59. Godric's Hollow

Towards the end of July, a tawny owl came tapping at the cottage window. It was unfamiliar to me, but I unlatched the window and let it in. It landed very cleanly on the back of the wooden wheelchair and watched me with its clear dark eyes, chirping when I took the letter from its beak.

It was a small, folded, cream-white card. I opened it and smiled.

Wilma and Severus Snape are cordially invited

to celebrate Harry's birthday, this 31st of July

at three o'clock.

Harry and Ginny Potter, 11 Feverfew Lane,

Godric's Hollow.

Around the cursive handwriting was a border of tiny drawn flowers and vines, charmed to move as though in a light breeze. Surely Ginny's work.

I was certain that Molly was behind the whole thing. Harry had always been averse to self-celebration, and it had likely taken quite a bit of coaxing for Ginny to allow the party to be held at their new house. But the consideration they'd demonstrated by inviting Severus and me as a couple warmed my heart. Even if I knew he would never want to return to the same little village where Lily and James had lived.

Severus came downstairs from bathing a few moments later. "Who's this?" he asked, of the owl, wrapping an arm around me and kissing my head. He spotted the card and I pressed it to my chest. "What is it?"

Momentary alarm blossomed in my breast. "Invitation," I forced out.

I showed him the card and he looked down at it, his eyes skating over the words.

"You don't have to come," I said softly.

He was quiet for a moment, and then pressed his nose to my hair again. "Enjoy yourself," he said.

I pressed his hand with understanding, then found a quill and ink for my response.

I will be there!

With gratitude,

Wilma

Ginny and Harry lived in a beautiful tudor house at the end of Feverfew Lane, which opened onto the green meadows of the countryside. It was warm, but the wind racing over the meadows spoke faintly of the approaching autumn.

A low wooden fence surrounded the house and the front garden, which was lush with blooming bushes. A bird bath stood in the golden sunlight beneath a young willow tree, and bluebirds flitted around it, singing and shaking beads of water from their feathers. The casement windows were open. As I went up the stone walkway to the front door I could see into the kitchen, where Hermione and Ron seemed engaged in a hushed but intense argument. I hurried past and knocked on the door. Ginny answered a moment later, smiling and flushing. Laughing voices carried from the back garden.

"Come in!" she said.

It was so curious to be inside of the house where my younger sister was living; so strange that she was married.

"Shoes off," Ginny prompted, with satisfaction in her voice. I complied, kneeling down to untie my laces, and looked up at her, sharing in her happiness. She seemed at home.

In my stocking feet, I turned my head slightly towards the strained whispers coming from the kitchen, before following Ginny deeper into the house.

"It's so beautiful," I praised, looking around at the wooden beams and wisteria wallpaper. Ginny had clearly worked to bring some of the Burrow's warm, lived-in atmosphere to her new home. Though there wasn't much inside of it, what they did have was a beautiful beginning.

On a circular table sat a large pile of gifts. I took a small vial of potion from my pocket, which I'd brewed at Hogwarts the day before. "For Harry," I said.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, taking it and examining the green bubbles.

"Hair raising potion," I said with a grin.

Her eyes brightened. "Brilliant." And she put it into her pocket for later. "Mum's responsible for the tulips," she told me under her breath, as we went to the door which led to the back garden. "They're completely uncontrollable. But don't tell her–she thinks I like them."

We shared a sisterly glance and went out to join the others.

A long, haphazard table stretched across the grass, laid with plates of light refreshments, and wildflowers in glass vases here and there. Everyone in the family was there–even Percy. George had come, to my relief, and was talking with Luna and Neville. Fleur was there, her arm hooked lovingly around Bill's. Harry had been forced into a birthday hat, but looked cheerful enough. Teddy sat near Harry in a high chair. Hermione and Ron, of course, were in the kitchen. The only one who wasn't present was Arthur.

I nibbled on a tiny sandwich and listened to Ginny talk about the house and the garden. She subtly directed my attention to the horde of madly-coloured tulips which had completely conquered the corner of the garden, and seemed to be rapidly expanding their territory. Ron wandered out the back door, but Hermione didn't follow him.

"Arguing since they arrived," Luna whispered to me.

I thought I would go inside and seek out Hermione, but just then Ginny called for everyone's attention. "Wilma brought the birthday boy a little surprise," she announced, bringing the winking vial out of her pocket.

Everyone gathered around, waiting to see what the potion would do. "Should we wait for Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked Molly.

"Oh, no, dear, he's held up at the Ministry. No telling how long he'll be."

Harry took the vial from Ginny with mock trepidation. "This had better not be one of your experiments," he told me with a grin.

I looked at George; Harry's remark had earned a small smile. I'd helped him and Fred with their questionable concoctions when they'd been first developing their Wheezes products. Harry and our other friends had fallen prey to many a botched recipe.

Ron stood over Harry's shoulder as the vial was uncorked. "What's it going to do?" he asked.

"It's a surprise," Ginny emphasised.

Ron chuckled. "You sure Snape didn't change it out for something nasty?"

"He didn't," Harry said.

His tone was casual, but I knew that beneath it was an unspoken reassurance that he was on my side, and that Ron's immature insults of our old potions professor were no longer his cup of tea. I was grateful to him.

"Bottoms up," I coaxed.

He pressed the vial to his lips and tipped his head back. A sudden gust of wind seemed to rush through his hair from his scalp, causing the birthday hat to shoot off his head and land across the garden among the tulips. There was laughter as the whistling gust of wind ceased, leaving Harry's shaggy black hair standing on end, exposing his forehead and his scar.

"Hair-raising potion!" Ginny proclaimed, and Harry held his head in surprise, laughing with the others. Ginny ruffled his hair and smirked.

"Not much difference, is there?" Bill said.

Harry grinned. "Brilliant, Wilma. Thanks." I giggled at his sarcasm.

Molly sighed, smiling. "Is it time for the cake?"

Ginny and I went back inside. On our way to the kitchen I heard the sound of crying from behind the bathroom door. Ginny looked at me significantly, continuing down the hall, but after a second of hesitation I decided to pause. I carefully knocked. "Hermione?"

Her voice was high with frustration. "I'm fine!"

"What's wrong?"

"This filthy Law."

Shuffling footsteps sounded on the rug at the end of the hallway and Fleur appeared, holding her large belly. "Is it occupied?" she asked, looking anxiously at the closed door.

"One moment, Fleur," Hermione called. I heard the tap running and then the door opened. Her eyes were pink from crying, and her eyebrows were pinched together from tension.

"I am sorry," Fleur said, "I do have to pee."

We moved aside to let her through, and heard the locking of the door followed quickly by a sigh of relief.

"Did something happen with Ronald?" I asked, keeping my voice down.

She shook her head, pressing her fists against her eyes. "It's just so disappointing. There are so many other things I want to do!"

A lump of fear formed in my throat. "Hermione… are you pregnant?"

She looked at me with wide eyes. "No, thank God! But he wishes I was! It was so different in school. Living together… Oh, who am I, complaining to you? I'm sure you more than understand, what with Snape."

A guilty expression had entered her face, and my sudden inability to respond didn't improve it. She opened and closed her mouth, seeming to see that she'd made a verbal misstep. "Excuse me," she murmured, and went down the hallway, supposedly to compose herself before rejoining the party.

Relieved, but also feeling somehow dirty after the interaction, I joined Ginny in the kitchen. I should have defended Severus, shouldn't I?

The cake was a beautiful chocolate one, with waves of frosting and blackberries adorning the top. Ginny was carefully sliding in the nineteen candles and lighting them.

"Is 'Mione alright?" she asked me.

"Don't know, honestly." I had never known Hermione very intimately. Perhaps this was a frustration which would pass… but by the way she'd been crying, I doubted it. It really was unfair, the Law.

Ginny paused in her work, looking out the window with surprise. "Is that Snape? I mean Severus?"

I looked up and followed her line of sight to see Severus walking down the lane in his turtleneck and trousers. I waved at him until he saw me, and made a beckoning gesture.

He slowed, and then inclined his head slightly, to indicate that he would indeed come inside. I watched him opening the gate and coming up the walk, happiness flowering in my heart. I hurried into the entryway and opened the door for him.

"You didn't have to!" I said, wrapping an arm around him to welcome him. It meant so much to me, after he'd gotten cold feet last time, that he'd decided to come of his own will, even after saying he wouldn't. "There's a shoes-off rule," I informed him.

He was placing his shoes beside mine at the end of the row when Ginny came down the hallway holding the cake stand, her face warm in the light of the candle flames. She smiled at Severus. "You're just in time."

I took his hand and we followed her to the back door. I held it open for her, and she began the birthday song with a long, "Haaappyyy…"

Everyone else joined in, watching as the cake was carried with much ceremony to Harry, who looked rather embarrassed, and kept his eyes locked on Ginny. Severus and I stood in the doorway watching the scene.

"Make a wish, dear!" Molly urged, as the song ended, and Harry blew out the candles in one breath.

"Cheating!" Bill proclaimed, for a wind had come through just as Harry had begun to blow.

"What's happened to Potter's hair?" Severus said with amusement. The question had been meant for me alone, but his deep and unmistakable voice carried to the table, and multiple heads turned.

Harry stood, much as he had done at my first wedding reception all those months ago. "Professor– Severus," he greeted, a bit awkwardly.

"Hair-raising potion," Ginny said.

"Clever," Severus said.

"Well," said Bill, saving us all from the uncomfortable moment, "he's always been quite hairy, hasn't he?"

There were snorts and merciful laughter, and Severus followed me as I stepped out onto the grass. No-one knew quite how to interact with him, but the conversation and ease around the table wasn't stifled by his presence, and everyone–even Ron–was respectful. As though he were a distant family friend whom no-one had seen for a number of years, and had returned from an unknown place. I sat with him at the end of the table, and we both listened passively to the voices that surrounded us. Under the table I squeezed his hand, wordlessly thanking him for being there.

Molly was carefully cutting the beautifully frosted chocolate cake, and setting the slices onto small yellow plates, when a deep and rumbling sound ruptured the calmness of the blue sky.

Everyone's faces turned upward, eyes searching for the source of the noise. Soon a dark shape appeared over the meadows and patches of woods outside the village.

As it grew closer, I suddenly recalled how Arthur had told me he was restoring Sirius Black's old 'mutterbike' for Harry's birthday. And Molly seemed to be in on the secret, because she hurriedly told everyone to get out of their seats and keep close to the house. I took Teddy up in my arms and stood near the back door. The flying contraption was zooming ever closer, Arthur's thinning red hair and flying goggles now visible, but he didn't seem to have much control over the vehicle. Hermione gave a piercing scream as the engine gave a stuttering blast and Arthur landed disastrously among the flowers. There was a worrisome moment as the tyres spun, hurling earth into the air, but then the roaring sound stopped and Arthur dismounted with a winded laugh. I bounced Teddy comfortingly, and was relieved when he began giggling rather than crying.

"Arthur!" Molly exclaimed, her hands on her hips. "The tulips!"

Ginny gave me a look, and we both shook with silent laughter.

Everyone began to speak and walk towards Arthur, but I sensed a sudden remoteness in Severus, quite at odds with the general mood.

As Arthur officially presented the bike to Harry, I realised that the sound and sight of the thing must have been agitating for Severus. I would not soon forget his memory of holding Lily (in a house somewhere in this very village) and being forced to apparate by the arrival of Sirius Black (on this very bike).

I turned to him, shocked by the sudden turn the afternoon had taken. "I'm so sorry," I said, feeling as though I personally had ruined everything.

His face was guarded, and that sense of remoteness only yawned wider. "I need a moment," he said.

I let my fingertips slip from the dark cloth covering his forearm, and watched him retreat into the house. I felt awful, but didn't stop him.

None of the others noticed his departure. I did my best to be amused as Harry mounted the bike and convinced Ginny to get on with him. He kicked the engine to life and they soared, shouting and screaming, into the air. Only when I could bear it no longer did I situate Teddy back into his high chair with a calming kiss, and slip inside the house through the back door.

"Severus?" I called.

I climbed the stairs, thinking perhaps he was finding a moment of peace in one of the upstairs rooms. I looked into open doorways. I saw Ginny and Harry's bedroom, bathed in warm sunlight, the swirl of bedsheets evidence of frequent love. I also knocked on a closed door at the end of the hallway, and pushed it open. It had clearly been used previously as a nursery. There was a protective rug on the floor, and an old dusty crib in the corner. The wallpaper pictured many small white angels. Someday, this would be the playroom of the new Potter children.

I went back downstairs and saw in the entryway that Severus's shoes were gone. Obviously he hadn't had any desire to remain in the house. I looked through the back windows. Harry and Ginny had just touched down–once again upon the tulips, to Molly's dismay. I knelt to put on my own shoes, and left the house by the front door.

The village was very small, and all of the streets led into one another. I found him quite soon, knelt in the graveyard behind the small church. There was no question of who was buried under the pale stone which silhouetted his slightly bowed head, his dark hair. The graveyard was beautiful, full of green blooms and sheltering trees like the ceiling of a cathedral. I remained half-hidden behind the nearest shop, knowing this was a private place, a private moment. But some instinct forced me out of hiding. I crossed the cobbled street, making no sound, and walked through the gate of the churchyard.

My step was soft and respectful as I weaved my way through the headstones. Soon I was near him, breathing carefully. If it weren't for the slight movement of his shoulder blades with his breath, he'd have been as still as the stones which surrounded him.

I waited a long moment before speaking. "Is it alright if I'm here?"

There was a pause, and I knew he'd sensed my presence long before I'd spoken. "Yes," he said.

I went closer and sat down on the grass beside him. I looked at him carefully, and was hurt by the numbness of his face.

IN LOVING MEMORY

OF

JAMES POTTER * LILY POTTER

There they were, together into eternity. A partnership etched in stone, from which Severus would be forever excluded.

We seemed to enter faerie time while we sat there. Severus seemed to be watching the stone for any sign of movement or change. But, of course, there was nothing.

He stood up slowly, seeming to have aged many years. I hated to think I had cut his meditation short, but could see by his posture, and the slightest angling of his shoulder towards me, that he wanted to be led away. I took his hand in mine and together we meandered to the gate.

There we paused, reality reluctantly returning as the wind rustled through the leaves above. Severus spoke after a long while, still holding my hand tightly.

"If he came back, what would you do?"

The word you isolated me. You. Not we. His question sent me wandering alone across a vast desert, though it was posed without malice.

I looked into his eyes, and saw there the lingering fear that Remus would return. I understood. The only person who could have taken Severus away from me was lying in the ground. For Remus to be floating somewhere in the world, half ghost and half alive, must have been torturous to Severus.

He wanted a real answer, and I wanted to give it to him. But as I searched my heart I could not find a single one. The truth was that I didn't know what I would do if Remus returned.

It had been easy back in the beginning. Then, I would have found a way to be with Remus again, and Severus would have had Frederica. But the circumstances of our marriage had changed much since then. Now, we only had each other. Now, I loved him in return. Deeply.

The words got stuck in my throat, but in time they found their way out. "I don't know," I admitted, with regret.

His reaction was subtle. Clearly the answer was not satisfactory, but neither was it completely disappointing.

"I appreciate your honesty," he said.

I searched his eyes, pained, but his voice remained free of malice.

We stood there together for another minute, and then our hands came apart. He put both hands into his pockets, and I hugged myself with my arms.

"I'm going to go back," I said. "You can still come if you like."

"No," he answered, with an effort towards kindness. "I don't care for chocolate."

We walked our separate ways. Once I was hidden behind the houses, I began to cry.

He had said it, I don't care for chocolate, in complete innocence. But it reminded me brutally of Remus.

His offerings of chocolate.

His stray wrappers.

I found it difficult, when I returned to the Potters' back garden, to enjoy the cake.

NOTE

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