Chapter 13- Unveiling Shadows
February 3rd, 2001:
From their previous encounters, Severus couldn't shake the feeling that Miss Granger wanted something from him. Whether it was friendship or some ulterior motive, he remained uncertain.
Despite her being a Gryffindor, a house known for their boldness and transparency of emotions, Miss Granger proved to be enigmatic and not easily decipherable. Which added a layer of frustration to their interactions, as Severus struggled to understand her true intentions.
Still finding his way after the war, Severus was unfamiliar with navigating new relationships. He had grown accustomed to assuming the worst, thus remaining guarded whenever someone attempted to get close. However, it was difficult to ignore Miss Granger when she frequented his dreams, repeatedly saving his life.
The entire situation felt unfamiliar to him. And while he briefly entertained the thought that Miss Granger might be making advances, he quickly dismissed it. After all, he was much older than her, and he doubted she was unattached considering the number of people who seemed to fawn over her.
Undeniably, Miss Granger was a remarkable woman, while he, on the other hand, was a miserable bastard.
However, he couldn't help but question why she made a habit of visiting his office whenever she was at the castle—thanks to Minerva's invitations, no doubt. Perhaps Minerva was trying to recruit her as a staff member, but Severus scoffed at the idea. Miss Granger was capable of far greater things than wasting her time in the confines of the castle. If she ever considered becoming a teacher, he would personally ensure that she heard his disapproval.
Severus had heard through Filius that Miss Granger was pursuing a career at the Ministry, although the specific department remained unknown to him. He didn't want to appear as if he cared to know, even though a part of him did.
But that did make the possibility that she was using him solely for knowledge of potions seem less likely, as there were limited positions related to potions within the Ministry. He believed that if she were pursuing one of those positions, he would have heard about it by now.
Also, their conversations had moved beyond the realm of potions, expanding to cover a range of topics. What had started as a brief greeting during her departure from the castle had gradually transformed into lengthy discussions, spanning events in the world and recommendations for books to read.
Miss Granger didn't ask many questions about potions, further dispelling the notion that her interest in him was solely academic.
Despite overall enjoying their interactions, Severus found himself deliberately avoiding her presence, often claiming school duties as the reason. However, she would always respond with a smile, promising to visit next time.
Realizing he had used the same excuse far too frequently, he eventually relented when she volunteered to help him. While he initially regretted accepting her offer, he couldn't deny that her assistance alleviated his workload, yet he also noticed the surprised look his students gave when they saw the unusually positive comments on their returned exam papers.
Severus had developed a habit of refraining from asking her personal questions, a decision greatly strengthened after inadvertently bringing up her old cat and witnessing her tearful response when she informed him that he passed away.
But, he couldn't deny that despite his efforts to maintain distance, each interaction with Miss Granger left him with an insatiable curiosity about her. He yearned to know more about the woman who occupied his thoughts, adding to his ongoing struggle to understand her true intentions and what she truly wanted from him.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in"
The door slowly creaked open, revealing none other than Miss Granger herself.
Speak of the Devil.
"Hello, Professor," she greeted, her voice carrying a gentle undertone. There was a certain seriousness in her demeanor that Severus couldn't quite put his finger on.
He watched her carefully, perhaps if he asked the right questions he would be closer to figuring Miss Granger out.
"Has Minerva finally convinced you then?" he asked, his tone tinged with boredom.
"Convinced me of what?" she inquired.
"To finally abandon your lofty aspirations and join the illustrious staff at Hogwarts", he replied dryly.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips, though it lacked its usual mirth. "No, actually, I haven't had the opportunity to speak with her yet."
Severus arched an eyebrow in surprise. "You haven't?"
"No... I'm actually here to see you," she replied.
Severus felt a flicker of intrigue dance within him. "And why, may I ask, would you want to see me?"
"I recently discovered something rather interesting," she began, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "It has come to my attention that you've been running a small business since the war. Selling potions to individuals for personal gain."
Severus tutted in annoyance, his lips curling into a slight frown. "And how, exactly, does that concern you? Are you looking to join the enterprise?"
A soft smile touched her lips, though it held a hint of something deeper. "Given my current position at the Ministry, this matter does indeed concern me."
Severus raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Has anyone reported any harm or ill effects from the potions I have brewed?"
"No," she conceded.
"Then why, pray tell, have you come here?" he asked, his annoyance seeping into his words.
"You do realize that selling potions to individuals requires a license, don't you?" she explained, her voice tinged with a touch of matter-of-factness. "While you are a registered potions master, you need a license for such activities post-war."
Severus stared at her in mild annoyance, his mind racing to catch up with the information. He had been unaware of such a law, a fact that irked him.
It seemed his fellow potions masters had neglected to inform him of any new regulations in the aftermath of the war, leaving him ignorant of the changes that had taken place after spending a whole year largely isolated.
In the back of his mind, he deduced that Miss Granger must be working in some branch of the law department at the Ministry.
"Are you here to arrest me then?" he asked, a note of sarcasm in his voice. "After all, I managed to escape punishment as a Death Eater during the war. Am I finally to be incarcerated for the heinous crime of selling harmless potions?"
A small shake of her head accompanied her response. "Not at all, Professor. I took the liberty of procuring a license for you. All that's needed is your signature here," she said, holding out a parchment for him to sign.
Severus's surprise was evident in his features. "Are you able to do that?"
The question of why would she do that for him even if she could, remained unasked.
Her usual smile was back on her face "It's one of the perks of working in the Ministry"
He took the parchment from her, his gaze never leaving her.
How the hell does this woman keep getting more complicated to read?
Despite her genuine demeanor, his skepticism remained, surely she wouldn't do this without expecting something in return.
"And what do you want in return for your efforts?" he asked.
"Nothing," she responded simply.
"Nonsense," he immediately retorted.
"I really don't want anything, Professor. I just wanted to do something nice for you."
He kept staring at her as if she had grown a second head, unable to conclude anything from all of this.
It seemed too good to be true, too selfless in a world where personal gain often motivated people's actions.
He was well aware that most individuals would rather go through excruciating pain than endure the tedious and time-consuming process of registration at the Ministry. The long lines, the crowded spaces, the forced interactions with strangers— Merlin... his head was hurting just thinking about it.
Surely no one would willingly go through it all just to be 'nice'.
Hermione sighed at his lingering look, "if you insist, how about a dinner?"
Severus felt as if he had been slapped in the face. "You want me to cook for you?" he asked incredulously.
She had the audacity to chuckle " Surely not, Professor, you can just take me out"
Severus, still bewildered, couldn't fathom how this was any better.
"That's too forward, Miss Granger"
Her face flushed with embarrassment. "Merlin... I'm not asking you to take me on a date, Professor. I simply would like to have a free dinner tonight," she clarified, trying to alleviate the tension.
Despite his inner turmoil, Severus found amusement in her flustered state. It seemed she wasn't the only one capable of disorienting the other. Perhaps this occasion could provide an opportunity to finally unravel the enigma that was Hermione Granger.
"As would I," he conceded, a flicker of a smile touching his lips.
She raised her eyebrow, confused, "The whole idea is that you'd be paying," she pointed out.
Severus smirked. "I know a fancy restaurant where the owner happens to owe me a favor. I rarely dine out, especially not alone. It's about time I take him up on his offer."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you using me for your debt collection, Professor?"
"It's Severus," he corrected. "I'm no longer your professor. And it's a bit strange not to be on a first-name basis with someone when having dinner, don't you think?"
"Fair enough," Hermione agreed. "But remember, it's not a date."
"I know," Severus replied dismissively. "But my dear friend doesn't need to know that if I'm to have an expensive dinner to impress a lady at his restaurant, " he said slyly.
Hermione chuckled at his cunningness.
"Well, then you're going to need to start calling me by my first name too, like I've been asking."
As they made plans to meet later that night, Severus couldn't shake off his lingering confusion. He still couldn't believe he had agreed to take her out —even if it wasn't a date.
But he reassured himself that the main purpose of this outing was to finally gain a deeper understanding of Hermione Granger and figure out her intentions.
Little did he know that this initial excuse would be used more often in the future, until it became forgotten, overshadowed by the unexpected journey that this dinner had set in motion.
Today:
Arya let out a sigh of boredom as she sat in the classroom, her eyes wandering over her classmates as they greeted their parents, who entered one by one.
The teacher had instructed them to draw and occupy themselves while they waited, but the growing number of parents arriving had distracted most of the children. Excited chatter filled the room, creating a noisy environment that made it difficult for Arya to concentrate on her drawing.
Frustrated with the commotion, Arya pursed her lips and scanned the class, searching for the familiar face she longed to see.
'Where is he?' she wondered, rising on her tiptoes and gazing out of the window.
Though she couldn't tell the exact time, she knew her father was late, considering that most of her classmates' parents had already arrived.
A pang of longing for her friend Alex washed over Arya, but the teacher had informed her earlier that he was sick and couldn't come to school that day.
'Even if he were here,' Arya mused, 'he would probably be busy talking with his mother, just like Emma was at that moment.'
Casting a sad glance at her friend, Arya wished she had befriended more children in the class, like the girl who sat alone beside the window, waiting for her parent just as Arya was. However, unlike Arya, the girl seemed unperturbed by the situation, engrossed in scribbling on a sheet of paper.
Arya slowly settled back into her seat, her eyes fixed on the drawing she had started. It depicted a girl with a green dress standing in a forest, sharing Arya's long black hair. She had already drawn a hand reaching out to hold the girl's, but the body remained absent.
Picking up her black pencil, Arya glanced at the door once more—no one entered. The noise in the classroom continued to escalate with the arrival of more parents.
With a dramatic sigh, Arya set aside her black pencil and exchanged it for an eraser. She delicately wiped away the outstretched hand that held the girl's, and then, after a moment of contemplation, erased the smile on the girl's face. Setting the eraser down, she took hold of the black pencil again and positioned its tip on the far left side of the paper, distancing it from the girl in the green dress.
Determinedly, she began sketching a tall man dressed in black, his straight hair flowing down to his shoulders. She added a long, pointed nose, deliberately making it the most prominent feature on the man's face. Only after completing the eyes and mouth did she include a wand, disguised as an ordinary stick to those unaware.
Perfect. Her Dad was so easy to draw.
Next, she bestowed a new mouth upon the little girl, one that conveyed her sadness. Arya glanced at the door, feeling a presence entering the room. But, of course, it wasn't her father—it was just another parent she didn't recognize. She watched as the person approached the girl who had been absorbed in her scribbling.
'Now I'm the only one who's alone,' Arya thought, her heart sinking.
She sighed once again, losing track of the number of times she had done so. Perhaps it was close to a million, she assumed wryly, before refocusing her attention on the paper.
Maybe she should make her father's nose even longer...
She gasped when she noticed that the man she had drawn was now near the little girl, holding her hand. A wave of disbelief washed over Arya. 'Did I just do magic?' she wondered, her eyes widening as she witnessed the man's nose shrinking and being replaced by a smaller one. Simultaneously, the girl's sorrowful mouth transformed into a smiling one.
Puzzled by the inexplicable events, Arya was about to look up and see if anyone else had noticed the changes in her drawings when she felt herself lifted into the air.
For a brief moment, she thought her magic had spiraled out of control, causing a scene in her Muggle school. However, that thought quickly dissipated as she found herself enveloped in the warm embrace of a familiar chest.
She tilted her head back and came face to face with her father. Involuntarily, a smile spread across her face, but she quickly composed herself, crossing her arms to convey her displeasure. "You're late," she stated, her little frown betraying a hint of adorableness.
"My apologies, but I believe I'm right on time," he replied, nodding toward her teacher, who was attempting to restore order and begin the activity.
Her father was dressed in muggle clothes that bore a striking resemblance to his usual attire, except for the absence of his cloak. The garments had a touch of familiarity but possessed a distinct muggle-like quality. The fabric and style seemed to blend seamlessly into the mundane world.
"Besides," he leaned in, his voice a soft whisper in her ear, "a wizard is never late."
Arya's frown gradually gave way to a smile, and she couldn't help but giggle, recalling the line from a muggle movie that Theo often enjoyed watching.
"I love you, Daddy," she said, her words laced with affection, and then she embraced him tightly.
"I love you too, Little Lioness" he replied.
"..and then Daddy said he's a Latin teacher, and everyone believed him!"
"Is that so?" Eileen inquired humoring the little girl.
Severus couldn't help but smirk as Arya enthusiastically recounted how her classmates' parents had approached him, seeking his expertise in Latin words. He had deftly provided them with answers, drawing upon his extensive knowledge to maintain the charade.
Dodging a potentially difficult situation, Severus had carefully contemplated the kind of profession he would claim during the meeting.
Initially, he had contemplated posing as a chemistry teacher, considering it to be the closest parallel to his true vocation. However, he quickly realized that there was a high likelihood of encountering a parent with the same occupation, leading to probing questions.
Opting instead for Latin, the language he had devoted years of his life to while developing new spells, seemed like a safer choice. Besides, he knew that fewer parents would be inclined to engage him in a deep conversation about an ancient language.
Arya was in the middle of imitating her father's voice, eagerly demonstrating to her grandmother how convincingly he had managed to deceive everyone, when he decided to make his presence known.
"Is that really what I sound like?" he inquired as he entered the living room, deftly extracting his wand to rid his robes of any soot that had undoubtedly clung to them after traveling through the Floo network.
"Daddy! You're back," Arya exclaimed with delight.
Severus nodded, his eyes briefly glancing at his pocket watch to check the time. "Twenty minutes past your bedtime," he remarked, his tone indicating a hint of gentle reproach.
Eileen shook her head, disapproval evident in her expression. "No more postponing, young lady!"
"But I'm not tired at all!" Arya protested, though her assertion was promptly undermined by an involuntary yawn that escaped her lips.
Both her father and grandmother arched an eyebrow, silently challenging her to contest their decision.
Arya huffed in resignation, dragging her foot reluctantly towards where her father stood as if she were a defeated soldier on the losing side of a battle.
Looking up at him, she raised her hands in a pleading gesture. "Will you at least read me a story?"
Severus rolled his eyes at her dramatics and, unable to resist her request, lifted her up. "There's no need to act as if I'm sentencing you to a lifetime in Azkaban," he muttered, his words tinged with wry amusement.
Confused, Arya quizzically questioned her father, "What's Azkaban, Daddy?"
Severus dismissed her inquiry with a wave of his hand, realizing that it wasn't an appropriate topic for bedtime conversation. "Nevermind that. Let's get you to bed before you miss out on the good dreams."
Arya giggled gleefully, her legs wiggling with excitement. She loved it when her father portrayed dreams as if they were movies, ones that she could miss if she went to bed too late.
"But you still have to read me a story first!" she exclaimed, making sure to get her way.
Severus heaved a melodramatic sigh, his eyes rolling playfully as he began ascending the stairs. "Oh, joy," he muttered sarcastically, his footsteps resolute as he marched toward Arya's bedroom.
"Is something on your mind ?" Eileen asked, her eyes fixed on Severus, who sat slouched on the couch.
"There's always something on my mind," he replied, his voice filled with weariness.
"But this feels different," Eileen persisted, concern evident in her voice. "Is everything alright with Hermione? You mentioned her father was improving."
"As far as I know," Severus sighed, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes.
Eileen continued to study him intently. He looked exhausted, burdened by something she couldn't quite grasp.
"You can stay the night if you'd like. Arya would be thrilled to have you here before she heads off to school," Eileen suggested.
"No," he shook his head slowly. "I have patrols tonight."
"Severus," Eileen's voice turned stern, "you better not be overworking yourself. You know you should take extra care of your health."
Severus opened his mouth, seemingly ready to refute her concerns and insist that he was fine. But instead, he sighed again, rubbed his forehead, and brought his elbows to rest on his knees.
Eileen recognized the signs. Her son was struggling with something, and she was just as stubborn as he was. She wouldn't let him suffer alone. She stood up and made her way to the kitchen, returning moments later with two cups of tea. Handing him one, she resumed her seat and slowly sipped her own tea.
She waited until she saw him take three sips before she broke the silence. "So, what's troubling you, Severus?"
He snapped his head up, startled, as if she had revealed a dark secret. Suspicion filled his eyes as he looked down at the cup of tea in his hand. Slowly, he brought it up to his nose, taking in its aroma.
Rolling her eyes, Eileen reassured him, "I didn't spike your tea with a potion."
"Wouldn't put it past you," he replied gruffly, taking another tentative sip.
"Not even Veritaserum?" he asked in a quiet voice, though Eileen sensed his question was half-hearted.
"No," she replied curtly. "What would be the point? I believe you're capable of resisting it with your Occlumency skills," she added with a raised eyebrow.
Severus stared at her for a long moment, and Eileen met his gaze, feeling the silent connection between them. She knew her son was reaching out to her, and she hated seeing him in such turmoil. It tore her apart to know he was suffering alone, trapped in his self-made prison.
"I've lost control," he confessed, his voice laden with vulnerability.
Eileen waited, expecting him to elaborate. When he didn't, she probed further, "Lost control of what?"
"My Occlumency shields. They're not working," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.
"How is that possible?" Eileen questioned, genuinely perplexed.
"I don't know," he replied with a sigh, his shoulders slumping.
"Did you try to find out?" she asked.
"I did some research, but I'm nowhere close to figuring it out. The cases I found of such occurrences usually involved head injuries or conditions like amnesia and Alzheimer's, but those individuals still retained some of their abilities," he informed her, then shook his head. "I haven't sustained any recent injuries, at least not to my knowledge. If that were the cause, this problem would have surfaced long ago during the war."
Eileen's mind engaged in a relentless search, seeking a plausible explanation for this perplexing situation. "Mind if I take a look?" she finally asked.
Severus hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on his mother's face.
She smiled at him.
Of course, he would need some convincing.
"It wouldn't be the first time, Severus. I promise I won't snoop," she assured him.
"Alright," he relented, setting his tea aside and standing up. "But I don't know if you'll be able to find anything."
Long exhausting minutes passed, their frustration growing with each passing second. Both of them were at a loss, their brows furrowed and their expressions filled with confusion.
Now standing in the center of the living room, they had thankfully applied a silencing charm as soon as their conversation began, careful not to disturb or alarm Arya who was sleeping upstairs.
"I don't get it," Eileen said, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Well, neither do I," Severus sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
Eileen shook her head, placing her forefinger on her mouth as she started pacing back and forth across the room, deep in thought. Her movements were restless, mirroring the turmoil within her mind.
Severus could only stare at her, feeling completely disoriented. It had been a while since he had allowed anyone to glimpse into his mind, and it had been even longer since it was his mother. The emotions swirling within him made it difficult for him to find his footing.
"The smoke, it's completely foreign," Eileen finally broke the silence, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Smoke?" Severus asked immediately, his attention fully focused on her.
"Yes, it's everywhere," she replied.
"What smoke?" Severus questioned, his confusion evident.
"You don't see it?" Eileen asked.
Severus shook his head, his frustration mounting. The room felt constricting as he struggled to understand what his mother was describing.
"It could be some kind of defense, making it foggy so others can't see properly," Eileen rambled on "So your shields aren't completely useless," she concluded.
"But you said it seemed foreign," Severus interjected, confused.
Eileen nodded, her gaze fixed on him. "Your mind is supposed to open up to me because I'm your mother," she continued, her voice softening. "We formed this relationship since you were born. It's no wonder I could easily tell when you were distressed as a baby."
Severus looked at her appalled, his eyes widening. It was the first time his mother had mentioned their bond in such a manner.
"But you said I could perform Occlumency against you. You could even tell when I improved," He reminded her.
She nodded in agreement. "I'm not saying I could get past your shields because we're related," she sighed. "I'm saying it's supposed to be familiar to me, and with the lack of your shields, even more so"
She looked at him again, meeting his concerned eyes with her own "But it felt foreign, something I can't recognize is in there."
"And I can't see it," he added, feeling his heart skip a beat.
The gravity of their words sank in, causing them both to pause and reflect, enveloped in a shared silence as they continued to gaze into each other's eyes.
The resemblance between the son and his mother at this moment was truly uncanny.
Eileen was the first to look away, "It could be intentional," she mused. "You're supposed to be unaware, otherwise, you would try to repel it."
"And if anyone tried to glimpse at it, they would think it's some type of defense," he concluded.
"But I'm not just anyone," Eileen added.
He slowly nodded and she sighed, " I'm glad you chose to come to me."
"I didn't have any other choice," he explained unnecessarily. "I've searched the library for days for anything that could help, but so far, nothing."
"It could be something external, not necessarily related to the magic of the mind," she suggested.
He looked at her incredulously. "You mean a hex or something?"
"Perhaps, or a potion," she replied.
"I don't drink potions I haven't brewed myself," he dismissed.
"But what if you didn't drink it knowingly?"
"I can recognize most potions," he replied.
"Not those developed by others," she reminded him.
Severus remained silent.
"Have you recently consumed anything that someone offered you?"
Severus shook his head. "Unless there's an evil elf lurking around Hogwarts, I hardly think that's the case."
"It wouldn't hurt to investigate. From the stories you told me before the war, elves can certainly be persuaded to commit certain crimes."
The elves at Hogwarts were known for their unwavering loyalty, and Severus believed he had always treated them fairly. He couldn't fathom any reason why they would want to cause him harm. Unless, of course, they still held a grudge against his wife— ex-wife, but he assumed they had long forgiven her for her past attempt to liberate them.
Severus sighed deeply. He sat down in defeat, covering his face with his hands. "We're no closer to figuring this out. What the hell is this bloody smoke supposed to mean?"
Eileen could recognize that his frustration stemmed from the situation rather than being directed at her personally, but that didn't mean it didn't cause her stress.
"Alright," she sighed, " if it's in your mind, then it's likely affecting other mind magic," she suggested.
He met her eyes, anticipating her next question. "Can you still perform Legilimency?"
Before she could finish her sentence, Severus was already in her mind, poking around.
Suddenly, an image of his younger self appeared to her. He was five years old, and she was teaching him about the intricacies of mind magic.
"So, you can read my mind?" young Severus asked, intrigued.
His mother pursed her lips and proceeded to lecture him on the correct term to use.
The memory played out before Eileen's eyes, and she watched with a mix of nostalgia and concern.
Severus emerged from her mind as abruptly as he had entered, his breathing heavy and his expression strained. Eileen couldn't help but tease him, trying to alleviate the tension in the room. "You could've been more subtle," she joked, observing his visible exertion.
"Did that overexert you?" she asked, her concern genuine.
"Did you enhance your Occlumency shields?" he asked, ignoring her question.
She shook her head. "I hardly had them up. You're usually much more subtle in your intrusion, even without your wand."
Severus sighed deeply, "This was harder than it usually is," he admitted.
"It must be related, Severus. Have you experienced similar effects recently when performing Legilimency?" Eileen pressed, her gaze fixed on him.
"The war is over," Severus commented with a hint of bitterness. "I couldn't care less about what people are thinking. I hardly go around delving into people's minds. I have my own brain to deal with."
Eileen rolled her eyes. "But when was the last time you did it? Have you experienced such difficulty before?"
Severus hesitated, taking a moment to contemplate. "There was one time when I couldn't perform it," he finally confessed.
"Couldn't?" she gasped, "Severus, this is important!"
"It was months ago," he finally revealed. "I only recently started experiencing Occlumency issues. Maybe it's unrelated."
Eileen shook her head emphatically, determination etched on her face. "I hardly think so! Of course, they are related," she asserted.
He remained silent and she could sense her frustration intensifying. It seemed as though whatever was in his mind, was clouding his thoughts, hindering clear thinking and impeding his ability to delve into the matter at hand.
"When exactly was this? You could have been investigating this since then, Severus. How could you dismiss that?" she pressed.
"I wasn't focused when I tried it that time. I was almost panicking, with so much going on in my head. I didn't really think of it until now," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret.
"This is so unlike you, Severus. You're usually way more careful than this. You don't overlook things like that," Eileen reproached, trying to get through his head.
"I think the word you're searching for is paranoid. And I don't need to be anymore. The war is over," Severus retorted, his tone laced with bitterness.
Again with the bloody war.
"That's exactly it, Severus!" Eileen hissed, her frustration reaching its peak. "You survived a bloody war, and that very ability of yours is what saw you through. I hardly think any situation you experience now would deem you incapable of using it, not when you relied on it most of your life. This smoke I saw must be affecting the way you think!"
He stopped talking again, but this time it seemed he was actually pondering her words.
"I need to see it," Eileen stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.
"What?" Severus asked, surprised.
"That time you failed to perform the spell, I need to see how it happened," she clarified.
"No," he immediately objected.
"Severus, this may very well be the root of the issue. I need to see it so I can help you," she pleaded.
"I don't need— you don't need to see it. I'll investigate it alone," he insisted.
"So you can walk in circles again? You mentioned you've been trying for days, but you haven't found any answers. Yet in just two hours together, we've made significant progress," she countered.
"But now I have a lead," he argued, his tone growing slightly defensive. "I appreciate your help, but you've already done more than enough," he added, making an attempt to stand up and conclude their conversation. However, Eileen swiftly intervened, her hand gently pressing against his chest, guiding him back onto the sofa, and joining him in a seat beside him.
"Stop being so stubborn, Severus. Do you really want to waste more time?" she implored.
Seeing that he was no longer on the verge of fleeing, she took a breath and continued, "You mentioned it happened months ago. Was it before the end of the school year?"
He looked at her, his gaze lingering for what felt like an eternity, before finally nodding.
"Severus, is this related to Hermione? Is it the reason you split?" Eileen probed, her voice gentle.
He remained quiet, but Eileen knew she was getting closer to the truth.
"Were you trying to perform Legilimency on her?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"No," he said firmly.
"Then who, Severus?" Eileen persisted.
He stayed silent, his internal struggle evident on his face.
"Whatever it is, I promise not to judge. I'm just trying to help you, Severus," Eileen assured him softly.
The man didn't even flinch, his reluctance to open up apparent. It was always challenging to coax him into opening up on the best of days, and today was anything but.
"You said you'd eventually tell me. Don't you think it's time?" she urged.
"I don't want you to see it," Severus finally confessed, his vulnerability palpable in his voice.
Eileen felt a deep sense of unease at his words. She was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense curiosity, a burning need to understand whatever it was that was affecting him so deeply. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she had to know.
"You were once a Death Eater, Severus," she said, her voice quivering slightly. "If I can come to terms with my son being part of that darkness, then I can handle whatever it is that you're hiding from me."
She despised having to dredge up the past, particularly given the pain it had inflicted on her son. But her desperation to uncover the truth pushed her to confront the shadows that had haunted their lives for so long. She needed to know what he was hiding, no matter the cost.
"It's not about what you can handle," he muttered bitterly.
She let out a weary sigh, understanding that she needed to grant him a sense of control to encourage him to open up. "If it comes down to it, Severus, I willingly give you my permission to Obliviate me if this proves necessary. Then you can go back to telling me on your own time."
The crackling fire provided a backdrop as they both remained silent.
"Very well," he finally relented.
It took a while for her to register his acceptance. She looked at him again to make sure and noticed he was holding her gaze, his eyes filled with anticipation and cold resignation.
She nodded her head and raised her wand. Although she was capable of performing the spell wandlessly, she didn't want to take any chances. This was important, and she didn't want to break contact mid-revelation if Severus had any hesitations.
"Legilimens," she pronounced clearly.
Flashes flew from his mind to hers. Severus had brought the memory to the forefront, making it easier for her to access. However, the fogginess and obscurity of the memory were still recognizable, resembling a dream.
Eileen couldn't tell if it was due to Severus' hesitation or her own shock, but there was no denying that it was a real memory from his recent past — not something he had fabricated.
After Severus broke the connection, they both remained silent. He avoided her gaze, but it didn't matter, for she couldn't see him either. Eileen replayed the scene he had shown her over and over again in her mind, still struggling to make sense of it.
Her son, lying in a foreign bed, half-naked, clutching his head in pain as a woman walked out of what she assumed was a bathroom, wearing a bathrobe.
"What the hell are you doing here?" the man exclaimed when his eyes settled on the woman, to which she surprisingly replied, "Severus, do you not remember last night?"
The memory then continued with Severus attempting to delve into the woman's mind, searching for answers to her presence, but it paled in comparison to the obvious conclusion that loomed before Eileen.
Severus' sudden shift in his seat snapped Eileen out of her loop.
"Severus," she said when she found her voice, her tone filled with disbelief, "how could you do that?"
A/N: Dun dun dunnn...
Oh boy...
Firstly I'm so sorry it took me so long to publish this chapter, as you see it has a BIG revelation that I wasn't quite sure how to go about it! I've also had massive life changes during the past few months, but I'm happy to announce that I've finally graduated xD Yay! I only have to worry about work now...
Also, please don't kill me for what you discovered in this chapter, I know you've all been waiting for it and frankly, I wasn't planning on it taking this long to be revealed, the story just stretched on, but I did drop quite a few hints here and there. I'm sorry if some of you expected something else, but rest assured that you still don't know the full picture, there are still quite a few revelations to come out in the coming chapters, so stay tuned!
AND DON'T BE TOO HARSH ON SEVERUS.
Thank you for sticking by xo.
~ ت