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wellpresseddaisy · 1 year

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Long Ago (and far away) pt. 19

Severus reminded himself that running would not help the situation and would, in fact, lead to seriously undesirable panic on the part of students. Of all the dunderheaded things to have left undone…two Gryffindor students with unsuitable wands. Surely Minerva would know.

He hoped.

She was kept so busy.

In about ten minutes she'd know, if she didn't already.

He didn't even have to wait for his door to open when he reached his quarters. He blew through the sitting room, hearing a bewildered 'Pet?' trail after him, but he had a mission. He could stop to soothe ruffled feelings in a moment.

He knelt by the bookcase in his study and pressed the molding just where a small snake had been carved into the wood. A panel popped open and he retrieved a casket.

"Pet, whatever is the matter?" Dare leaned in the doorway.

"Two Gryffindor students have been going about with hazardous wands. One is broken and the other is the worst fit we've seen in years. Inherited, of course. They will try to force a child to use a family wand." Severus muttered as he checked the contents.

"Ah, I expect you're going to see Professor McGonagall?" Dare asked.

"I hope it won't be long. There's Potter after dinner and then I really must take the time to speak to the Headmaster." He tapped his left forearm. "He needs to know."

"Of course. Should I wait up for you?"

The question had Severus halting in his tracks. "Beg pardon?"

"I can wait up, if you'd like. You might be a while with the Headmaster, after all."

Severus blinked as if trying to understand that someone would wait. For him. Just because he was out late and they wanted to see him.

"If you'd like?" He finally answered. "That would be…nice."

He escaped before his husband could unsettle him further. Precious few had ever waited up for him. The headmaster, certainly, but that was to hear a report. Minerva, on occasion, when she worried after him. The whole concept shook him down to his bones. Another person in this world cared for him for no reason other than he existed.

Would he ever stop feeling as if the axis of his universe was riding one of those appalling funfair contraptions?

He stuffed those rambling thoughts right down and hurried to Minerva's office. Better to think about towering rage at students being left to fend for themselves. How was the woman meant to cover all her actual work and pastoral care without the use of a time turner? When he stopped to think about it, it was bloody inhumane, piling all that one one person. He tapped sharply on her door and noted that there was no 'In Student Meeting' label posted for once.

"Yes? Come in."

He almost felt bad, she sounded that tired, but he entered. Minerva's desk was piled with parchment, stacks and bundles tipping precariously together. She did not rise to greet him, a sure sign she was as exhausted as she sounded. And so early in term.

"Severus, what can I do for you?" She asked.

"You can call Weasley minor and Longbottom in, please." Severus spoke briskly.

"Have they done anything?" She asked tartly.

Severus set his casket down on her desk. "What they haven't done is ask you for help. Both of them are using hazardous wands."

Minerva sighed and rubbed a hand across her face. "I knew about Longbottom, but what can one do about the Dowager? She's adamant that he use his father's wand. I expect Weasley's was damaged in his…adventurous return to school?"

"With that attitude, one can't do much." Severus replied crisply. "I have a solution. And, yes, Potter just disclosed that to me."

"You've been to see him?" Minerva asked, a bit too casually.

"I have and you were right. He is…not what I thought."

Minerva said nothing but looked incredibly smug. Severus wondered if that was part of her animagus form. Cats could radiate the most obnoxious levels of smug he'd ever experienced.

"I knew you'd see it that way if you spoke to him. Now, what is this solution?"

He opened the casket, revealing nearly stacked wand boxes.

"Severus! How did you—no. I don't want to know."

"It's been sanctioned by Ollivander, Minerva. He…he's had some concerns for a long time surrounding family wands. Many simply won't listen to him."

"If Ollivander is involved…do you plan to fit both boys with a new wand?"

"If there's one they match with, yes. Longbottom can either engineer an accident or pretend he's using his father's wand at school. Weasley shouldn't have the same problem. I have no doubt that he simply doesn't want to trigger another Howler."

"I'll call them. If Augusta gets wind of this…" she trailed off, going to the announcement board across the room.

"Send her to me." Severus smiled thinly. "She could do with a good routing. And if she persists in being a problem, I'll tell Dowager Prewett."

Minerva snorted as she inscribed a quick message on the board.

"I don't know why that woman has taken to you the way she has. There, that will go out now."

In a moment, her voice echoed through the corridors.

"Would Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom please come to my office."

"Now we just need to wait. They should be prompt. Weasley, at least, knows better than to lollygag."

Sure enough, the two boys tapped on the door and then skittered into the office minutes later, distinctly out of breath. Longbottom skulked behind Weasley, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"'lo, Professor McGonagall. We were in the library." Weasley sounded wary.

"It has come to my attention that both of you have wands which are causing…problems. Professor Snape would like to suggest a solution."

"Gran won't let me have a new one. She had a thundering row with Ollivander over it." Longbottom blurted out, horrified.

"We needn't tell your grandmother, Mr. Longbottom." Severus stepped in to reassure the child.

No use having Longbottom go to pieces when it could be avoided.

"We needn't?" Longbottom asked, as if this were an entirely new concept.

"You can see if one of the wands I have available will work for you. Then, you can either use your father's wand only at home or you can engineer a small accident so it's unusable but not destroyed."

"But that's lying!" Neville protested. "Are…are you telling me to lie to Gran?"

It seemed moral outrage overcame fear for Longbottom. Severus made a mental note. Minerva, whom he could see in his peripheral vision, pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom." Severus answered simply and Minerva sighed. He continued, "you are twelve and away at school. Your grandmother, while an estimable woman, does not need to know every choice you make. You can, of course, choose to struggle along with your current wand. You may also choose to tell your grandmother the truth and send her to me." Perhaps the child would prefer the hard road.

"I'd like to see if I match with a new wand. But…I'd like to think about what to tell Gran, if…if that's alright." Longbottom decided.

"That's perfectly fine, Mr. Longbottom. We can talk about how you'd like to handle your grandmother." Minerva promised. "Away from less than savory influences."

Weasley snorted.

Severus ignored her pointed comment. "And Mr. Weasley?"

"I'll try. Only I might be hard to match. I went through all the family wands and only Charlie's first one worked for me." Ron's hand went unconsciously to his pocket.

"We shall see." Severus removed the boxes from the casket and removed the top of each. "Mr. Longbottom first, please."

"What happens if we don't match with any?" Longbottom 's voice quavered.

"Then we call in Mr. Ollivander." Minerva answered. "Go on and try."

Longbottom stretched out a trembling hand, steeled himself, and then ran his hand over the open boxes instead of picking up a wand directly. He bit his lip as he hovered over the row of boxes, brows furrowed in concentration. Toward the end of the row, he finally plucked a wand from a box.

Shimmering golden sparkles fountained from it as a light breeze danced through the office, ruffling parchment and hair as it went.

"This is it." Longbottom's voice came out unsteady. "I didn't know….what is it, please, Professor?"

Severus lifted the box and looked at the label pasted on the top.

"Cedar and unicorn hair, Mr. Longbottom."

"Cedar?" Longbottom echoed. "I didn't think I…it's a bit of a surprise."

"Let's see if Mr. Weasley is as full of surprises. Which method would you prefer? The Longbottom or the Ollivander?" Severus, quite honestly, wished to finish so he could, perhaps, get an hour of marking in before dinner.

"I have a method." Longbottom muttered to himself.

"Er, what's it feel like, Nev? With hovering your hand?"

"It felt like something clicked for me. Like I'd been waiting and waiting and suddenly it was just…there."

"Right. Could I try the Longbottom method, please?" Weasley knocked shoulders with the other boy.

"Please."

Weasley made it to the middle of the row. He didn't need to be told twice before he scooped up a wand, sending a rain of brightly glowing miniature globes down on the room.

Without being asked, Severus checked the box. "Rowan and dragon heartstring."

"Rowan…" Weasley murmured, looking down at his new wand in wonder. "It's just like Nev said, too."

"With that sorted, I'll take my leave." Severus gathered everything quickly, but not quickly enough to escape Gryffindor soppiness.

"Thank you, professor." Weasley managed, tearing his eyes away from his wand.

"Yes, thank you so much." Longbottom echoed.

"Use them well." Severus escaped from the room and the overpowering gratitude.

They didn't own him that. He was just doing what needed to be done.

#long ago and far away #hp society/the ton #hp the season/the ton au #hp the season au #severus snape #minerva mcgonagall

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wellpresseddaisy · 1 year

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Long Ago (and far away) pt. 21

Monday Afternoon

Hogwarts

Millicent and Pansy met Granger and Weasley just outside the Infirmary door. They all stopped, staring at one another.

“What are you doing here?” Weasley asked, his eyes narrowed.

He probably thought it made him look threatening. Millicent thought it made him look like he had astigmatism.

“Visiting Potter. We had hoped to run into you, Granger.” Millicent answered shortly.

“Why are you visiting Harry?” Weasley wouldn’t lay off. Of course he wouldn’t.

“Because he’s rather a nice person and I think he could use more friends rather than fewer. And Mother said that if I wanted interhouse relations to change then perhaps I had a responsibility to make a start.”

“Well, if your mum said.” Weasley sighed. “She’s all right, your mum is.”

“Thank you, Weasley. I’m sure my mother’s life will be complete knowing that you approve of her.” Millicent answered so drily that both Granger and Pansy snickered.

“Why were you looking for me?” Granger asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Are Patil and Brown threatening to help you with your clothes?” Pansy butted in.

“They said they’d help.”

“Right, send us a note when you’re going to go over everything with them. We’ll help as well.” Millicent hoped she’d take it well.

“Why?” Healthy suspicion seemed like a good response.

“Because neither Pansy nor I trust them not to make you look a complete idiot. They both have a distressing fondness for ruffles and pink.” Millicent thought Granger would appreciate a straightforward answer.

“And while certain pinks suit you, they’ll try to go too far.” Pansy picked up. “You know, you really do have the most marvelous hair.”

“I suppose I could do with more assistance than just Lavender and Parvati.” Hermione mused. “I did wonder at their sudden wish to help.”

“Bulstrode’s mum runs their fabric warehouse pretty much single-handedly.” Ron put in.

“I’ll send a note round when we agree on a day and time.” Hermione nodded decisively. “And perhaps we can start to change the…the way students are siloed into houses.”

“Excellent. Now, if we’re all here for the same thing?” Millicent opened the door and ushered everyone through. Perhaps all of them showing up together would distract Potter from his moping.

She, at least, would be distracted from her own nerves at the upcoming meeting with Professor Snape.

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He wanted the quiet refuge of his study, a bottomless pot of tea, and…his husband. It’s an odd feeling, actually wanting another person. He thought he’d weaned himself off such things after…after. How had he come to want so much in only a few days? Hell, a few hours if he was being honest with himself. He’d been lost the first time Dare smiled at him. Now they weren’t even seventy-two hours bonded and all those old feelings, feelings he thought he’d killed off years ago, came roaring back.

Why would his treacherous brain not give him peace? He wouldn’t feel half as frazzled if he could concentrate on anything but the new bond fizzing away at the edge of consciousness and his worries rolling round and round in his brain like a caged snidget.

Some of it, he knew, was the magic (he may as well give in to the only train of thought he could keep). They’d bonded, not married, which mingled their magic, both personal and familial. Magic wanted them close while their bond settled and deepened. Magic wanted a bond as deep as they could manage.

Would Dare even want a deeper bond? It felt as if he did, sometimes. Dare felt like he near constantly had to hold part of himself back, as if he worried that he’d spook his husband. As if he worried that Severus would reject him.

Nonsense.

He’d accepted Dare as his Head of Family and House and a guardianship when he signed that contract. Even before signing, he’d accepted both when he sought the shelter of Dare’s House. While legally either had little affect on his life (for the most part, probably, he thought), he didn’t know that magic saw it the same way. Socially, both simply gave people a target for any complaints. Personally…magically…he’d allowed Dare in and had given him at least some level of authority. He knew many who took another as their head of family, who accepted their guardianship, and simply disregarded their partner’s wishes. Who treated those clauses as a relic of the past that could be blithely ignored. Who saw them only as words on paper.

That was not the kind of relationship he wanted.

He wasn’t entirely certain he could ignore them, could behave so shabbily as to ignore them. To him, they meant…they meant everything. They were a most solemn promise of fidelity and obedience. This time, instead of a mark seared into his skin, they twined, rejoicing, into his magic. Into his soul?

He never made a promise he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep, and he had no intentions of starting with this. That Dare didn’t expect absolute subservience of him as a matter of course made it easy. Easy to slide into…what? At the very least an amicable relationship.

(And that small, delighted voice at the back of his mind positively rejoicing over Someone Else In Charge…he could pretend that didn’t exist for a moment.)

Severus groaned, mostly to himself. As usual, his wants had to go unheeded. He couldn’t yet shut himself away, not when he had so much to do. Potter after dinner, the headmaster after that, and more immediately the Bulstrode dormitory had asked for a moment of his time.

They could have fifteen minutes. It was all he could spare if he also expected to stay ahead of his marking, especially as his afternoon had suddenly included emergency wand fittings. If they needed more, then his seventh year NEWT students would have to wait for their essays back. They just might have to cultivate patience anyway, never easy when every essay felt like a new way to fail. They never really did fail, though, and probably could have put their energy to better use than torturing themselves.

No one ever listened when he suggested jogging or tennis or a row on the lake or even just a brisk walk. They all went wall-eyed as a spooked horse if one so much as hinted at the benefits of fresh air.

One of the benefits, of course, being that he didn’t have to deal with nervous breakdowns if they’d just relax for five minutes.

He slipped into his office only moments before the Bulstrode contingent arrived. He contrived to look as if he’d spent his afternoon marking essays, most certainly not apologizing to undersized Potters or supplying clandestine wands to Gryffindors.

Millicent Bulstrode, Immogen Heartley, and Eiluned Owen made one think of wholesome outdoor games and the phrase “jolly hockey sticks”. They were, for the most part, nice girls, but each carried an air of common sense assurance that sent most off-kilter. They were only twelve, after all.

“I do hope your rooming arrangement has proven satisfactory?” he asked. “Splitting a cohort isn’t often done.”

“Oh, yes, professor.” Bulstrode answered. “We’re getting on splendidly. We had a request, though, and thought it best to speak to you.”

“What might that be?”

“We’d like Parkinson moved in with us, if it can be arranged.”

That was not at all what he’d expected. Severus stared for a moment, trying to gather his scattered wits. He made a non-committal noise to cover his confusion.

They wished to room with Parkinson? Voluntarily? They may as well have told him they wished to take up snake handling.

“We know it’s a bit odd,” Owens spoke. “As Parkinson has done her best to be a prime wart this term, but both she and Bulstrode say she wants to change and Bulstrode’s right; she can’t change of she’s left in the same place.”

“I see.” Severus steepled his fingers together. He’d learnt that from Minerva. It was an excellent delaying tactic. “You believe her to be sincere?”

“Yes, professor.” Millicent answered. “She cried, properly. Not that whimpery sniffle she used all last year. She actually let herself go all blotchy and Pansy doesn’t do that unless she really means it. And she’s written her Auntie Agapanthus to ask if she can stay with her in school holidays.”

“Her aunt…” someone had actually named another person Agapanthus?

“At least it isn’t Ranunculus.” Heartley put in, shrugging. “We spoke to Parkinson all together, too, professor, and she seems sincere.”

“In general, I don’t allow dormitory changes after the first week of classes. However, given that it would equalize the number of students per dormitory, I’ll make the change. Tell Miss Parkinson that her things will be moved by the evening.” Well, that was easy enough. He might need to handle hysterical Parkinson parents, but he could do that in his sleep.

If they persisted, he could set Agapanthus on them.

Merciful Merlin. Agapanthus.

The girls filed out happily after giving their thanks, no doubt off to plan an overthrow of the government if they’d finished their essays and reading. They were the sort who could pull it off, most likely, at least once they were adults, and with no one the wiser until they were quite entrenched as they’d do it through perfectly legal channels. Well, mostly legal channels. Bulstrode had her moments.

He’d watch that set with interest, now Parkinson was being cannoned into their midst. She might prove to be good for them.

#hp society/the ton #hp the season au #hp the season/the ton au #severus snape #long ago and far away #millicent bulstrode #ron weasley #hermione granger #pansy parkinson

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