Severus went to the Great Hall for breakfast on Saturday morning as usual but did not really eat, just nibbled on a slice of buttered toast and sipped tea. Even given it was early on a Saturday morning, the hall seemed muted. He swore the students were watching him, even more than they had been earlier in the week. He determinedly made no eye contact with anyone, until Pomona waved her hand in front of his face to inform him she, Filius, and Poppy were heading out now, and would he please come along.

Severus nodded tiredly and demurred when Filius asked if he needed to fetch other robes from his rooms for the funeral. Severus almost always wore black anyway, and he did not have robes any finer than his usual professorial garb.

The four walked out onto the sunlit grounds together. The sky was actually clear, and the brisk spring winds were mellowing now they were coming to the end of April. As soon as they exited through the great gates, they paired off for side-along apparition, Severus with Filius and Poppy with Pomona. He had taken Poppy over to Spinner's End earlier in the week with the two house elves Squeaky and Maxie so they could see what all needed doing. When they arrived in the little back garden, Severus hardly recognized the place. It was weeded. The bushes were trimmed. The few paving stones by the back door were swept. The old wooden bench had been scrubbed and oiled, as had the ancient hand water-pump.

Pomona looked around and nodded. "I can work with this. Few potted plants, few cut flowers, and you've got some crocuses and daffodils budding up I can encourage to bloom for us." She patted Severus' shoulder and set to work.

Poppy and Filius pulled him into the terraced house. The tiny mudroom was cleaner than Severus had ever seen it before, completely devoid of the usual pile of cloaks, hats, and shoes. Squeaky trotted over, bowed deeply, and explained she and Maxie had stored all of Eileen's personal things in her bedroom. They passed into the kitchen. All the dishes were put away; all the cabinets and shelves had been dusted and polished. Maxie was working on a platter of tea cakes, which smelled wonderful. Severus drifted through silently into the living room. Even two house elves couldn't do much to hide the poverty here. The furniture was clean, floors and shelves scrubbed, but the upholstery of the armchair was undeniably threadbare. Everything in this room was battered, and nothing was newer than ten years. A glance in the bathroom was similar. The elves had scraped all the lime off the faucets and drains and cleaned and reset the loose and broken tiles, but the basin sink would always be chipped and mirror always missing a corner from when Tobias had cracked Severus' head against them when he was nine and then threw away the bloody evidence before Eileen had returned home.

Feeling even less energetic now than he had when he got up this morning, Severus sank down into the armchair. It smelled like Eileen: familiar, a little musty, a little like stone dust. And a little like household cleaner.

"This is cozy," Filius said bracingly. "What sort of flowers would you like, Severus?"

"Flowers?" He echoed distantly.

"Of course!" The little Charms professor conjured up a row of matching vases of various sizes.

"Well, I suppose lilies and carnations would be most traditional," Poppy commented after a moment when Severus did not answer.

Severus shuddered. "Not lilies." He could grieve for Lily every other day of his life, but he did not want to be surrounded by distracting reminders of her at his own mother's funeral.

Filius and Poppy looked at him curiously, before shrugging. "Carnations... roses, and gladiolas," Flitwick said firmly and set to conjuring flowers. Once done with that, he looked around the bare walls and flicked his wand. It must have been a silent Colovaria, as the color changed from dingy plaster to a light beige tone, with a subtle design like wallpaper. "Is that alright, Severus?"

"Better than the alternative," Severus grunted. Eileen used to color the walls regularly until Tobias' death. The spell never lasted more than a few days before needing to be renewed, but everyone in the family had considered wall paint or paper to be a frivolous expense in the grand scheme of things after the original wallpaper became irreparably damaged and moldy and had to be removed after a heavy rainstorm that blew off half the shingles.

"What's this stain? Looks like even the house elves have trouble removing it. Scourgify!"

Severus looked over to Filius, peering at the floorboards between the bathroom and the steps to the upstairs. The dark stain resisted the Charms professor as well. He grimaced. "That's where my father died. Entrails-Expelling curse." It was the curse residue that could not be cleaned, of course.

"...Ah." Filius looked decidedly green.

Poppy gasped. "Oh, Severus..."

"I'm fine. I'm over it. I wasn't here at the time." He had heard rumor of the murder the next day and rushed home to find Tobias' body stinking heavily, and Eileen still barricaded in the bathroom under an anti-apparition jinx.

Silently, Filius conjured a brightly colored throw rug to hide the stain and levitated a small end table over the space. He enlarged and lengthened the table into the size of a buffet, blocking the stairs as well as the area of wall before which Tobias had once slumped. "No one but you should need to go upstairs anyhow," he said uncomfortably.

Severus nodded. Mercifully, Pomona came in just then to take over finding places for the various floral arrangements. Filius encouraged her to completely cover the new table with flowers. He then started conjuring extra chairs and some glowing lights for the dark corners of the room. Poppy brought over some tea for Severus. It was in the chipped china teacup Tobias had supposedly given Eileen for their first wedding anniversary. Within an hour, there was no more work to be done. The house elves laid out the victuals in the kitchen, bowed to Severus and Poppy, and made themselves scarce until cleanup. Filius and Pomona left through the front door to lay the short-term navigation charms to guide guests over from the old, abandoned Cokeworth mill, which was the official apparition point for the day. Flitwick would also be placing a muggle-repelling charm there, which Albus was to remove later.

It was nine-thirty. Severus and Poppy sat quietly for fifteen minutes until the first early guest arrived, Healer Valerian. "How are you, Severus?" The healer asked as he shook Severus' hand.

"I'm well."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Severus said nothing, as there was nothing to say to the bland statement. Valerian smiled sadly and turned to Poppy. By the time the two of them had reacquainted, Severus had slipped out to the kitchen with his half-drunk tea.

The next to find him were Minerva and Petrus. Then Chauncey. Then Argus, Silvanus, and David. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry for your loss.

By the time Albus and Aberforth found him, he had retreated to the bench in the back garden. The two Dumbledores rested a hand each on his shoulders. The touch was light, yet it felt like they were holding him down on the bench. Albus opened his mouth to speak, but Aberforth interrupted him by picking up Severus' empty teacup and thrusting it under Albus' nose. "Get him a refill, won't you?"

Albus squeezed his shoulder. Severus felt the pull of his gaze but refused to look up. He had spent quite enough time with Albus Dumbledore lamenting his mother's passing the past few months. Everything that needed to had already been said so far as he was concerned. Albus sighed, let go, took the cup, and walked away.

"Mind if I sit here?" Aberforth asked.

"Go ahead," Severus said dully.

Aberforth settled down and looked around the garden for a moment. "Nice place," he commented.

"No, it's not. You're seeing the work of charms and house elves. Usually, it's wretched."

"Alright, it's small, and it's old. Able to be cleaned up, though. I don't think I could get the Hogs Head to look this nice in less than a week, even with a dozen house elves helping me." Severus did not bother to argue. "Did you grow up here?" He nodded. "I've never visited a mill town for...ever. Odd that."

"I don't recommend it."

"You weren't happy here, I take it. Was she?"

Severus shrugged. "Maybe once. Not that I can remember though."

Aberforth sighed. "I'm sorry she wasn't happy, Severus. Sorry that she lived a hard life, and that that's carried over onto you. It's not your fault. Try to remember that she's not suffering now, lad, and she wouldn't want you to suffer either."

"Thank you."

The back door opened, and a middle-aged, mousy-haired, nervous-looking witch stepped out of it. Severus did not recognize her, but she walked straight over to his bench. He looked up at her quizzically. She fidgeted with her skirt for a moment. "Er, Professor Snape?"

"Yes."

She stuck out her hand. He accepted it automatically. It was sweaty. "I'm Olive. Olive Hornby. I went to school with your mother. Eileen and I were both on the gobstones team. I was in Ravenclaw though, not Slytherin."

"Oh." They stared at each other for a moment, until he remembered to release her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Did she still have all those gobstones? She used to get at least one new set every year, must have had a couple hundred stones by the time we graduated."

"They're in the house."

After a long moment of silence, Olive said, "You look like her."

"Do I?" His most glaring feature, the nose that was disproportionate to the rest of his face, was his father's. Tobias' jaw had been stronger, his neck thicker, to balance it out. No one had ever compared Severus to his mother before that he could remember except for his straight, black, stringy hair. Of course, he'd rarely met anyone who actually knew his parents outside of this town where Eileen had always been the outsider, Tobias the local boy.

"I missed your mother," Olive continued awkwardly. "After what happened with... you know, the family, she sort of disappeared for awhile."

Severus shrugged. "She wanted to keep a quiet life, I think. For my father."

"I always thought it was really brave of her to marry him. I only met him once, early on. He was, um, imposing to look at, I guess, but I think what Eileen really saw in him was the ability to be... different from how she was raised." Severus had nothing to say to that. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps that was how his parents had started, young, in love, rebellious and brave, but they had brought out the worst in each other year after year. He had only known them to be angry, stressed, and struggling. Then at the end in St. Mungo's, afraid.

"What time is it, do you think?" he suddenly asked Aberforth.

"Mmm... Ten-thirty, maybe?"

"I should go in and find Petrus, then. Your pardon, Madam Hornby."

"Of course." She stepped out of his way as he hastened back inside.

The rest of the funeral was something of a blur. The paltry eleven visitors gathered in the little family room with hors d'oeuvres and either tea or wine. Petrus thanked them all for coming and rambled for a few minutes about Eileen's staunch competitive streak and independence as a child. Severus knew all about the competitiveness, but he had always considered his parents horribly co-dependent once he was old enough to understand the wrongness of an abusive relationship and wonder why neither of them ever left. Albus spoke of Eileen as a diligent student and sounded like he was reading from the old student files, recounting her excellence in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He doubted the then-Transfiguration professor actually remembered his mother as a student with any clarity. At least he did not share the details of Eileen's mental collapse and premature demise. Minerva toasted Eileen as Severus' mother, at which point Severus zoned out until Petrus asked him to say a few words.

Severus took a gulp of wine. It was dry, almost bitter. He hated dry wines no matter the supposed quality. "She was my mother. We had our differences, but I loved her. She was born into a very traditional family but made her own way, for better or worse. She told me she met my father while researching muggle board games she hoped to adapt magically and market to our world. She would have been good at that, I think. Unfortunately, that was something she never had a chance to do in the end, because her very traditional family disagreed with her other, more important choices and did their best to bury her alive." The room was dead quiet now. He stopped himself from mentioning outright her being disowned, the strife in her marriage, or Tobias' murder, though all the angry thoughts were on the tip of his tongue. He could spew vitriol forever, but he shouldn't. He should stop talking before he made this worse. "She had a hard life... especially for the last few years while she was getting quietly sicker. She was never one to ask for help, even though I wish to Merlin she had... I hope she is happier now." He set his wine glass down abruptly on the table Flitwick had set out to cover over the stains from Tobias' death. Why the hell had he decided they should have the funeral in this house? "Excuse me."

He fled back to the kitchen, back to the garden, with all the daffodils Pomona had coaxed into blooming early. It was too small a space, but it did not feel right to straight-up leave. At least they left him alone for awhile.

Minerva proved to be the only one brave enough to come get him so guests could pay their final respects and leave. He managed not to offend anyone further. He, Poppy, Minerva, and Albus were the last ones in the house. Poppy summoned the two house elves back to clean up in the kitchen. Albus strolled around vanishing Filius' chairs, and then the flowers and vases, after confirming Severus did not want to keep any for the few days to a week they would last. Minerva stood next to Severus near the front door, keeping him company.

She peered at the boxes stacked on the nearest shelf and raised her eyebrows. "Are these all gobstones?"

"Yes."

"Good lord. What are you going to do with all of them?"

"Throw them out and replace them with books, I suppose."

She pursed her lips. "I don't think you should just throw them out."

"As you say, what am I to do with over five hundred gobstones, then?" he said sarcastically.

"If there's a nice set, keep that one," Albus suggested lightly. "Maybe you'll want it eventually, or maybe you'll find someone you want to give it to. A younger relative, perhaps."

"I'm estranged from all my relatives," Severus said irritably.

"Not all. You do have one nephew you are fond of, as I recall."

Severus rolled his eyes. He had no intention of giving Harry Potter morbid reminders of a dead woman to whom he bore no actual relation.

"You can always donate what you don't want, Severus. To St. Mungo's, or even to Hogwarts," Minerva said.

"To Hogwarts, eh?" He gestured expansively. "Take what you want, Deputy Headmistress."

Her eyes narrowed. "I will be happy to help you sort through things this summer, if you require assistance, Severus. I appreciate you not imply I'm some kind of vulture by doing so."

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted. You are having a trying day to round out a trying week."

Poppy rejoined them. "I think we're just about done here. Severus, are you coming back to Hogwarts with us or staying here for a bit longer?"

Severus wavered. He had no plans. He hadn't thought about what he would do the rest of the day, as if the funeral was a precipice terminating his path. He looked around at this house he so disliked... his house, now. His eyes fell on the floor stains. "I'm staying. Probably be back for dinner." He was going to rip up those planks and burn them. And find his father's urn and scatter the ashes. And get rid of all the other mementos of death and abuse he could find, including the bathroom sink.

Poppy touched his arm lightly. "I'll put a preservation spell on Maxie's sandwiches and leave them out for you, just in case you decide to stay a bit longer."

"Thank you."


Severus almost splinched himself when he left Spinner's End that afternoon. He had told everyone he would be returning to Hogwarts in a few hours... but at the last moment, the destination that arose in his mind was not Hogsmeade but Little Whinging. The brush with dismemberment gave him enough of an adrenaline boost, he consciously decided he did want to take Petunia up on her offer to visit unannounced. Finally. He transfigured his black robes quickly and walked the rest of the way to Number 4 Privet Drive in a numb haze.

Petunia opened the door to his knock. She sighed as soon as she saw him. "Oh, Severus... she's gone?" without waiting for an answer, she reached out and hugged him gently.

Severus was not expecting her... tenderness. He nodded mutely.

"I'm sorry. Come in." She pulled him into the house and led him to the kitchen, where she offered him the cup of tea she had evidently only just poured for herself.

"How did you know?" he croaked.

"It was obvious. I haven't heard from you all week. I wrote you on Monday, and Wednesday. Nothing urgent, but you always reply the same day. I asked Arabella if she had any news about you, and she hadn't, but I gather she checked with Dumbledore who said you were dealing with 'personal issues' but were otherwise in perfect health." She contemplatively poured herself a second cup of tea from the pot and added milk and sugar before guiding him to the breakfast table. "Boys are watching telly. Vernon's in London. We'll talk here. When did it happen?"

"Friday evening."

"Yesterday?"

"Last week. Funeral was this morning." He took a gulp of tea. "I hated it."

"I think that's normal. I hated both my parents' funerals."

"The only people who were there for her were myself, her doctors, and a single school friend," he said bitterly.

Petunia grimaced sympathetically, then squeezed his hand. "The rest of them were there for you. That's as it should be. She's not suffering anymore." Severus looked down at his tea. Oddly, Aberforth Dumbledore was the only other person who had said that so far. It was marginally more comforting than the proclamations of sorrow and sympathy most everyone else offered. "Do you want to tell me more about what happened?"

"Not really." He had no plan when he came here.

"That's alright." He could tell from her tone she was wildly curious. He had never told her what was wrong with his mother. He appreciated her restraint in not probing further. She sipped her tea for a moment and then set it down deliberately. She smiled. "I said before and will say it again, the boys are the best comfort I know. Their show is almost over, and I know Harry would leave it for you anyway. I'll be back in a moment." So saying, she got up and strode purposefully out of the room. Severus was alone for less than a minute before Harry bounded into the kitchen. The smile on his young, cherubic, living face was fiercely happy. Severus hastily set down his teacup in time for Harry to practically leap into his arms. Petunia followed more sedately and grinned at him. "Harry, I'm giving you a very important job. Uncle Sev is sad today. I want you to help cheer him up."

Harry looked up at him with wide, green eyes full of innocent concern. "You're sad?"

"I'm very sad," Severus admitted quietly. In fact looking at Harry, he found he was struggling to keep from breaking down in tears, for the first time since leaving St. Mungo's.

Harry's eyebrows knitted in thought, and he hugged Severus again. "Then we should color," he suggested seriously.

A brief laugh escaped him at the simple offer. "I'd like that very much."

"I get crayons and paper. An' Fantastic Beasts. An' you can hold Bear-Bear." Harry tottered away purposefully.

"And I'll take Dudders to get us all something sweet and unhealthy," Petunia said. She glanced at the clock. "In seven minutes. What's you're favorite dessert, Severus?"

Severus hesitated only a moment before answering, "Blancmange."

"Hmm... well, if I can't find one ready-made, I can get the ingredients and make it fresh. I have Mum's recipe."

"Don't put yourself out on my account, Petunia," he said hastily.

"Nonsense. You're staying for dinner. It will be set up by then if I stick it in the freezer for a bit. And the beauty of blancmange is in its cheapness."

Severus had no sense of time that afternoon. He colored three pictures with Harry, a mooncalf, a niffler, and an occamy. He was amazed the coloring book had lasted so long, until he realized Harry had been taking especial care with these pictures, determinedly keeping all the color inside the lines rather than enthusiastically scribbling everywhere as per his usual wont. Mostly. Next he watched Harry draw stick figures purportedly depicting their snowball fight at Christmas. Then Petunia and Dudley were back. Petunia declared they would all work on the blancmange together, which amounted to Severus supervising the two boys as they took turns stirring and Petunia doing everything else. Then he sat on the couch with the boys, mindlessly watching the children's favorite television shows. His only recollection of the shows was that they were sweet, colorful, mostly plotless nonsense. He knew nothing more about them than they were perfect for his mood. Harry and Dudley both fell asleep on the couch in short order; Petunia mentioned they had missed their usual naptime with his unexpected arrival. Severus held them close and kept listlessly watching the television. He even managed to doze off himself as afternoon transitioned to evening, feeling warm and relaxed for the first time in months with a child curled up under each arm.

He awoke suddenly when the front door opened and snapped closed. He blinked owlishly at the bright television screen before remembering where he was. The cartoons were over, replaced by the news. Harry and Dudley were both still there, and both still asleep, he noticed. Dudley was drooling on him, but he found he did not really care. He heard Petunia's and Vernon's murmuring voices and looked over towards the hall. Petunia smiled wanly at him. "Good, you're awake. Could you wake the boys too? I don't usually let their nap go so late, but I didn't want to disturb you."

Severus nodded and gently shook first Harry, then Dudley. Harry yawned, beamed up at him, and snuggled even tighter into his lee if that were possible. Dudley rubbed his eyes with his fists, then perked up when he saw what the television was playing. "Daddy home?" he hollered and slipped off the couch.

"I'm home, Dudders," Vernon affirmed. The big man walked into Severus' field of view, holding Dudley's hand. He turned off the television and sat in one of the armchairs. He met Severus' eyes and sighed. "Bad day, I hear," he said softly.

"Bad week."

"I'm sorry, Sev. Good you came to us, though. Petunia says you'll stay for dinner."

"I don't want to put you out."

"Y're not putting us out," he said simply. His mustache twitched. "I'm not that tightfisted to deny food and company when you're going through something like this."

"I did not mean to imply you were," Severus said quickly.

Vernon nodded, and he squinted at Severus. "You really needed that nap, didn't you? Looks like you haven't slept in a week."

Severus shrugged. "Not well," he admitted.

"Petunia didn't either, after Iris. It was a little different, then, of course, but still. You like herbal tea?"

"Sometimes," Severus said cautiously.

Vernon grimaced. "I hate it, tastes like grass. But I brewed chamomile tea for her every night for months. With that, bubble baths, foot rubs... and time... she got better."

"Well, thank you for suggesting the most manly of those options, Vernon."

Vernon chuckled and turned to Dudley. "And how was your day, Dudders? Did you help your Uncle Sev feel better?"

"Uh-huh. Mummy and me wen store, and we all help made dessert."

"Oh, yes? What kind?"

Dudley's brow furrowed in thought. "A block-man?" he looked over to Severus questioningly, as did Vernon.

"Blancmange," Severus clarified.

Vernon smiled. "Petunia's recipe is a good one."

"I help with block-man, too. An I help with coloring," Harry piped up, poking his head out from under Severus' arm at last.

"Yes, you did," Severus agreed, smiling softly down at him.

"They're good boys," Vernon said contentedly. Severus had to agree.

In short order, Petunia called them all to dinner. It was a quiet affair, with Severus merely listening to the routine conversation, reviewing Vernon's work and gossip from the neighborhood. He was like a ghost at the table. He did not feel like eating much, but Petunia served up everyone's plate herself, and he knew better than to leave food uneaten. Food waste was worse than asking for seconds. The blancmange was pure nostalgia. He would have sworn it was the same recipe as Eileen's. Perhaps it was. She was a pureblood from a wealthy family who would have had a house elf. She probably learned most of her cooking skills after marriage from the other women in Cokeworth, some of whom Iris Evans would also have known. After dinner, Severus quietly helped Petunia with the washing up. She raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. Evidently, she did not expect men-folk to voluntarily help her in the kitchen, but Severus found he wanted something to keep his hands busy at this point after a full day of other people anxiously taking care of him. Then they played a simple game with the boys called Snakes-and-Ladders. Harry encouraged Dudley to let Severus win in order to "make Uncle Sev happy." Surprisingly, Dudley agreed to this ploy, although it did not really matter since the outcome of the game was determined entirely by chance, so far as Severus could tell. That was the kind of "artless, pointless" game Eileen had hated most, and therefore never played with him, even when he was Harry's age. He found the simplicity strangely enjoyable, though. Petunia won the first round, Dudley the second and third, then Harry, but they kept playing rounds until Severus finally won. That was when Petunia declared it was time for the boys to go to bed anyway.

Rather than taking them upstairs herself, she called Vernon over to take care of it. He glanced at Severus and then acquiesced. The boys hugged Petunia and Severus both goodnight and followed after Vernon. Severus packed up the board game. Petunia quietly brewed more tea and wiped down the kitchen counters. After a few minutes of steeping, she sat back down across from him and offered him a cup.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.

He stared into the pale, golden brew. He could smell chamomile and lavender in the steam. Finally he answered, "Yes."

Author's Note: Olive Hornby was Moaning Myrtle's bully. The dates line up well for her to have been at Hogwarts the same time as Eileen Prince. And that was the end of the incredibly depressing storyline. New plot! Thank you as always for the reviews; I do read all of them and find them motivating. I'll aim for another update next Friday, but might be delayed since I'm still plotting the next arc.