An owl tapped on the window of the kitchen as Severus stood at the stove attempting to make drop scones that following morning which in fact he had never made before but thought they might be preferable to eggs for his ever nauseated houseguest. He opened the window and the bird flew inside, dropping his parcel onto the kitchen table before flying out the window again.
He untied the string wrapped around the Quibbler, and stared down at the front page. The War Within the Walls: Inside Hogwarts Before the Final Battle. Dozens of smiling faces beamed up at him from the photo of the self-proclaimed "Dumbledore's Army" just below the headline.
He hissed as the odor of burning batter drew his attention back to his pan. "Damnit." He rushed back to the stove and flipped the scones out of the pan to the plate. Those would be his. With a sigh, he dropped more batter into the hot oil.
"It smells so good in here." Luna stepped into the kitchen wearing an emerald green jumper over jeans swirled with some elaborate design in grey. "Oh, are those drop scones?. Who knew you were so domestic?" Her eyes became distant for a moment. She blinked and added, "But if I think about it, it really is not that surprising. Potions and cooking have many similarities." She shrugged.
He grunted. "I hope my potion work has been more successful than these pan cakes."
She laughed. "What do you mean? They look perfectly golden brown."
"Is that an appetite I sense?" His eyebrow cocked.
"It is." She nodded sending the odd dangles of color hanging from her ears into a curious dance about her cheekbones.
"Then sit." He motioned to the table with a jerk of his chin.
She sat down at the table, her eyes still on him. "You do know I am plenty capable of cooking for myself, don't you?"
"Likely so." He piled the scones onto a plate and placed it before her. "Honey? Jam?
"Yes, please."
She stood and grabbed some cutlery from the drawer near the stove. Pausing inches from him, she looked up at him. "You smell different."
"I smell different?" An odd observation.
"Apparently one of the many joys of pregnancy." She tapped her nose. "Super-smelling."
"Do elaborate." He leaned back.
"Well, I mean, I guess maybe I just always associated you with the smell of the potions lab - like embers and ink. Or the scent of the potions text. Sometimes there was also a hint of dittany and arnica."
He swallowed down the dryness in his throat as he looked down at the witch who now seemed so close he had little doubt she could smell his odor. He could certainly smell her airy fragrance of dandelion and citrus. He cleared his throat. "Were you in the practice of smelling all of your professors, Ms Lovegood?" As apparently, even before her super-smelling abilities, her olfactory abilities were keen.
"No. Just the ones in the habit of moving into my personal space while I worked." She shrugged. "Professor Flitwick smelled like green tea and candlewax usually."
"How enlightening," he drawled.
"But today…" She drew herself closer and inhaled, her eyes closing. "Today, I smell cinnamon, well-worn leather, and a hint of.." She inhaled again. "Something earthy. Is that valerian maybe?"
He swallowed again as the warmth of her closeness settled over him. The damn witch had to be in his head. It was impossible for her to perceive so much with just his scent. His jaw tightened. Perhaps she did not actually understand the significance of what she described; did not know the ditany and arnica were the primary ingredients of his wound healing salve he often needed after being called to the Dark Lord's side; the valerian the principal ingredient in his calming tinctures of which he'd depended on a bit too much as of late. The cinnamon was likely the firewhiskey which replaced the tinctures when they failed. And the leather, well, he'd practically planted himself in that leather armchair while Luna spent her days with the Weasley clan.
"It's quite pleasant, really," she almost whispered as she looked up at him with her deep, swirling, silver eyes.
He met her gaze, feeling himself drawn in deeper, almost as though they begged him to enter her thoughts. It would be so simple to dive into her head, swim through her feelings, her memories, her secrets. He could know for sure if she had been in his head and how much she knew. He grit his teeth and looked away to the table. "Shall we eat?"
"Oh, yes." She moved back to the table seemingly oblivious to the temptation she had just provided him.
Probably for the better, he thought. He did not want to even try to imagine what sort of overwhelmingly saccharine world existed behind those sparkling irises. To experience the world through those eyes would likely overwhelm him in ways he could not fathom. It almost caused nausea simply to try.
They sat, and he watched as she pulled two drop scones onto her plate and proceeded to tuck them away without hesitation. "These are wonderful."
"I am relieved you think so." He would make them for every meal if it meant her continued intake.
"Very much so. Thank you." She pulled another two cakes onto her plate.
He nodded as he took a bite of his own food, pleasantly surprised at the flavor. He would have to experiment with additional recipes in the future. As Luna had keenly observed, cooking was really a form of potions, combining the ingredients just so and adding the right amount of energy to achieve the desired results.
Luna reached for the Quibbler. "Did you read it?"
He shook his head. "Only the headline."
"Ginny really might have outdone herself with this one, I think. It reads like a short story more than a column, but she got in all the facts without cutting any of the emotion, dangers, or frustrations. It probably helped that she kept a journal through it all. She remembered so many things that I had forgotten or did not even know in the first place."
Severus reached for the magazine and started to scan the exposé.
"You reassembled that group of rebels?" he scoffed.
"In the DA, I found my true friends, and as it grew, so did my friendships. I needed them then more than ever. I never really meant it to become what it did, but Ginny and Neville sort of took it from there." She smiled, as she stared past him.. "You can understand about wanting to belong to something like that, can't you?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Yes." His left fist tightened as he recalled the first time Lucius had invited him to join a group of what would become the Death Eaters. He had been asked to teach them a few of his darker self-created spells which he had readily done without reservation at the time. How they all hung on his every word for those brief moments. How they all suddenly knew who he was and wanted to be in his presence after that. If only he had foreseen how deep he would go.
He suppressed a sigh as he continued to read. He cleared his throat as he read of the cruciatus practice rounds. He had known of them at the time but reading of them now, picturing the witch before him writhing in agony for her revolt caused his stomach to lurch.
Her eyes met his as he looked over at her. "It was much worse to be on the performing end, than the receiving…" she mumbled clearly understanding the meaning in his look.
"Gods, Luna…I did not know." Luna Lovegood had cast Unforgivables on her fellow classmates. He did not believe it possible.
"That was intentional, I imagine. Thankfully for my classmates, I was not very good at it."
"You have to really mean it…" he mumbled.
"Yes," she whispered. "I never did…never could…"
"Even now, after everything you have been through?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I don't think so, although there are few I would be willing to try against." Her face tightened.
He nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. Just how much had she really suffered? He had managed to shield her from severe punishment the day he'd caught her and the others breaking into his office to steal the Sword, but clearly that would have just been one of many apparently. Perhaps he should have taken a chance in her head. He took a long sip of tea as he continued reading.
"Did you really stun Alecto?" He refilled their tea cups
She shrugged. "Yes. She had worse coming, but it was what came to me first." She sipped her tea. "I guess I should have taken my practice seasons more seriously…"
He closed the publication and sighed. It was a compelling account to say the least. It would likely get attention if anyone actually read it.
"So?"
"The youngest Weasley does have a certain knack for writing."
"Is that a compliment, Severus?" She cocked her head.
"I must be getting soft." He sneered.
She laughed. "Subscription requests skyrocketed last week." Her face brightened.
He had underestimated the potential of this once quirky publication. As he flipped through the remainder of the magazine, he encountered ads for almost every business in Diagon Alley and several in Hogsmeade, some sort of puzzle game, and a note from the Minister of Magic and Headmistress McGonagal on the reopening of Hogwarts in the fall. The final pages contained coverage of the memorial. He closed the last page. "I do believe it has been well earned."
"Are you feeling well, Severus? That was two compliments back to back."
She was right. He had let two complimentary phrases slip back to back. He really was getting soft. He shrugged, a very uncharacteristic response, so much so, he felt an odd weight hang in his shoulders after.
"I promise not to tell anyone." She smiled.
"No one would believe you if you tried."
She laughed again, the sweet sound echoing in his ears. "Yes. Fair point." She smiled. "Would you like to join me today?"
The tension returned to his jaw as he looked into his tea. "I must decline."
"Oh. But I can't stand the thought of you sitting around here alone all day." Her smile faded.
"It really is not any different from before."
She observed in silence for a long moment. "I still don't like it. You must be lonely..." Her brow tightened as she watched him.
"It is not any different from before," he repeated.
Luna shook her head. "That doesn't make it right?"
"I assure you, I do not mind in the least."
Her eyes narrowed as she appeared to study him in silence. "It is hard to miss what you have never had…"
He frowned. "You presume too much, Miss Lovegood." A throb echoed in his temples as his teeth gnawed.
Her eyes widened as her pale lips fell open. "My apologies, Sir. I didn't mean to make assumptions."
He inhaled sharply, regaining his resolve over his desire to make some cutting remark. "Some of us enjoy our solitude."
"Yes. I understand. I only meant that you would be welcome if you so wished…" She licked her lips and looked down at her hands next to her plate. "And thought perhaps it has been a while since you've truly felt welcome," she added softly.
Something twisted in his gut. Damnit. How did she do it? He huffed as the throbbing in his head grew.
"But perhaps another time." She stood. "Do you need any assistance with .." She motioned to her neck.
"I think I can manage."
Her mouth opened as though she might argue and closed again as she nodded. "Of course. I hope you have a good day, Sir."
He nodded and watched as she left the room. With a deep sigh, he dragged his hands over his face.