Be Careful
53: What Makes You Happy
By Anne B. Walsh
"—absolutely brazen, not ashamed of himself in the least, leering at the girl and smirking through her pitiful cries until I wanted to wring his neck on the spot—"
"I believe you have been in this position before," said the blonde woman sitting on the end of the Headmaster's desk. "Pacing about in this very office, listing off the points which irritated you about one of your students. Only then, it was another child about whom you were complaining."
He paused in mid-turn, frowning. "When—ah, yes. I remember now." His cloak flared out as he completed the turn and gave her a long and searching look. "Dumbledore brought that up as well, when I discussed this with him earlier. But he was present that day. You were not. How is it that you know my life better than I know it myself?"
"Because you think very little of yourself, while I think rather highly of you." She slid to the floor and crossed to his side. "Severus, you cannot change what this boy does. You did your best to reason with him, and he would not listen. He was in his own home, he is of age, and he feels flush with success. While none of that excuses what he seems to have done—"
"There is no seeming about this, Cecilia," Severus began, only to be cut off by delicate white fingers laid across his mouth.
Very well, if you will not listen to me, I will not listen to you.
Instead I shall think about you.
Cecilia, the woman of his dreams. Cecilia Black, for her looks had the fine-boned elegance of that family. Still, she was kind and thoughtful, loving and generous, instead of haughty and cruel as the present-day Blacks tended to be. Even Andromeda Tonks retained much of her pureblood hauteur, despite her marriage to a Muggleborn, and Sirius Black, Gryffindor and Auror or not, had been capable of deeds as vindictive as any Death Eater.
Whereas the cruelest thing Lily ever did was well-deserved by its recipient.
A few words broke into his ears. "—capable of putting up a front—" He nodded absently, returning to his thoughts.
Even her name tells me from whom I have compounded her. The nickname "Cecy" is almost indistinguishable from "Cissy", as Bellatrix calls her sister, and I recall wondering for years why Lily signed her notes to me "L.C.", until at last one day she told me her "old-fashioned" middle name, and was surprised that I thought it beautiful…
"—but of course that would mean that the aliens could land there and turn everyone into gnomes, and we would have to relearn English, all but the curse words…"
Severus blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Yes, you had best do exactly that." Cecy had her hands on her hips. "I have been talking nonsense for the last two minutes, and until this moment, you did not notice. Which means you were not listening to a single word I said before that, either, were you?"
"I—" He sighed. "You do not know this young man, Cecilia. You cannot understand how impossible it is that he change his ways. He was born into a gilded cage, trained and groomed from childhood onward to be exactly what he is. That he was not able to kill, in my opinion, means only that he is weak, not that he is redeemable. In fact, I fear his soul may have been broken beyond true repairing, either that night or in the days that followed, when the Dark Lord tortured him for his failure."
She tilted her head to one side. "The actions you've described do not sound like those of a broken man, or a child who wants only to be left alone by the terrible adults who've hurt him."
"No, but they do sound like the same bluster with which he has always conducted himself." He shook his head. "He has been able to rebuild himself to some degree, but as nothing around him has changed, neither has he. If it were not so important that I maintain my cover, I might have been able to intervene at the critical point, but it is too late now. He has patterned himself after his father once more, to the detail of desiring every woman who crosses his path and taking advantage of those who fall into his power. Like Miss Lovegood."
"Poor child," she said with soft intensity. "Both of them."
They stood in silence for a moment. Severus broke it. "So, now that I have destroyed any vestige of Christmas spirit you might have possessed, what are your plans for the holiday?"
Cecilia laughed. "Never fear, my Christmas spirit is more resilient than that. Especially when I have been able to obtain three full weeks away from work."
"How in the world did you do that?"
"A combination of seniority, family connections, favors called in, and a sympathetic superior." Cecy looked out the window, where snow had begun to drift past. "I've told you before of our rotating timetable of parties, I believe, but that leaves me with a choice for the day itself. I would usually spend it with my cousin's family in his home in London, but this year I plan to celebrate with another family I know who have a country home."
"Because of your young patient, I assume?" Severus closed the distance between them, laying an arm over Cecy's shoulder. "You had mentioned he would be staying with friends for the holiday."
"More than a patient." She leaned back against him, and Severus felt his skin tingle at her unthinking trust. "He is without family of his own who can care for him properly, and I have come to love him very deeply, as he does me. We have called one another by familial titles since the summer. For Christmas, I plan to make it official."
"Saving those we can," Severus murmured. "And trying with all our might not to blame ourselves for the ones we cannot."
"Yes, we are not so different after all, are we?" Cecy looked up at him with a hint of a roguish smile. "What about you? Do you plan to spend your Christmas at Hogwarts, and shout ‘Bah! Humbug!’ at anyone who dares to give you good wishes?"
Severus laughed. "Compared to me, my dear, Ebenezer Scrooge was an amateur," he said, feeling his spirits lift at last. "But yes, I will be remaining at the castle. Partly to ensure that the Carrows do not stay without me, but mostly because there is nowhere I would rather be. Especially not if you will come to see me here sometimes."
"As often as I can," she promised, lifting her face towards him as if she wanted to be kissed.
He obliged.
Outside, the snow continued to fall.
Cecy awakened in her rooms at Fidelus Manor to a snowy morning and a conundrum.
We have never met in the Headmaster's office before, Severus and I. It is always Hogwarts, the place where we find one another, but usually he comes to look for me in the rose garden, or I seek him out in his quarters in the dungeons. But last night, when I searched for him, I found him in Albus’ office.
Which may not, in that place, be Albus’ anymore, if the portrait on the wall with whom Severus was arguing when I arrived is any indication.
And Severus treated the place quite as his own, to the point of inviting me upstairs. I agreed, of course—along with the more usual reasons, I have always wanted to see how the Head's quarters were laid out—and the rooms had a distinct look of my love about them. Ingredients drying or curing on every flat surface not holding a book, for instance.
She rose from her bed and wrapped her blue dressing gown around herself, sitting down by the fire to think.
There are two possibilities. Either Draco's stories have such an influence over my mind that I have begun to change my dreamworld to fit them, or…
There was, of course, an easy way to find out if the other possibility were the true one. All she would have to do was open the door into Draco's bedroom.
If he is alone, then my dreams are just that, concocted from my own fevered fancies and my son's tales.
If he is not alone—if a particular young lady shares his bed with him—
She was not sure which alternative she would prefer.
And thus, here I sit.
The flames snapped and danced in the fireplace.
Draco opened his eyes. Sunlight danced in patterns on the blue-painted wall above the door.
Home again, home again. No Hermione coming in my window this time, but I wasn't expecting her. She'll be on the train most of the day, probably get here around suppertime with the others. Which means Luna and I will have the day to ourselves. With Mum.
He let out a long sigh of contentment, pursing his lips through the last bit of it to ruffle Luna's hair. She stirred at the feeling, but settled back into sleep in the next moment.
Wish Snape could see this. The "rapist" and his "victim" all curled up together, nice and chaste in their pajamas—well, me in my pajamas, Luna still in her robes, since she hasn't got anything else. We'll have to go shopping for her today.
He groaned softly. And if I know Mum, she'll claim it as "girl time" and take Luna out alone. Never mind that I like choosing robes, that I have a good eye for color and fit—no, it's a "girl thing" and I'm not allowed to take part. And they'll trade stupid Draco stories the entire time, and embarrass me at dinner in front of everyone.
And he was actually looking forward to that, Draco realized. He wanted his mum to swoop in and carry off his girlfriend for the better part of the day, he wanted them to return with bags slung on their arms and smug smiles on their faces, he wanted them to giggle whenever they saw each other in the halls—
Because it's normal. It's what normal families do when there's a new girlfriend around. And normal is the one thing I've never been allowed to be.
Well, no. That's not quite true. Normal was one of the two things.
The other was happy.
Draco extricated his hand from the loops of rope he'd conjured the night before, to ensure he and Luna would continue touching all night, while he ruminated. No one ever said it in so many words, but most of the people I knew as a child considered happiness vulgar. Something for the lower orders, not for us. We could take pleasure in study or a hobby, we could enjoy a good meal or a game of Quidditch, but happiness as a way of life? Surely you're not serious.
Before he could stop himself, he'd imagined the answer of the tall, laughing, dark-haired man whom his mum so loved to tease, and who happily teased her in return.
"Of course I'm Sirius—so stop calling me Shirley!"
He chuckled aloud, making Luna stir again. Her hand, now free, groped about for a moment, until Draco tentatively laid his own hand across it. She intertwined her fingers with his, pulled his arm across her like a scarf, and cuddled closer to him, nestling her head under his chin and emitting a humming sigh.
"Put that in your cauldron and brew it, Snape," Draco muttered. "Stupid git."
He shook his head, carefully so as not to bump into Luna's. Enough about him. I'd rather think about Christmas parties. All twelve of them.
For, to his amazement, each family of his acquaintance hosted a party on a different day of Christmas, drawing straws near the beginning of November to determine who would host which day. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were quiet and private, for family only, but the following twelve days were wild and wonderful, and woe betide the first one to go home.
We got the rundown a week or two ago. Let me see if I can do it all from memory.
This year, the Potters got the Quaffle first, with a ball on St. Stephen's Day, followed the next day by the Wiltshire Blacks, Regulus and Morgan. They'd be at the Riddle house in Yorkshire on the Day of the Holy Innocents, and Harry's Muggle aunt and uncle would be hosting them the day after that, having rented a local meeting hall for the purpose, as their house in a quiet Surrey suburb was woefully inadequate.
Another couple things for the list of "ways to make Potter's mouth fall open".
Aunt Andy's house in London was the site of the New Year's Eve Eve party, and Lord Albus had, as always (this was the one slot which never changed), invited everyone to Hogwarts for New Year's Eve itself. Draco wasn't sure what to make of the rumors that the Headmaster's brother would be dropping a goat from the Astronomy Tower to mark the precise moment of midnight.
Neenie insists it's true, but she's got that funny look on her face that means she knows something about it I don't…
The French contingent—the eldest Weasley brother Bill and his part-veela wife Fleur, and Hagrid and Madame Maxime—were in charge of finding the venue for New Year's Day, as that would necessarily be a quiet and reserved affair.
Because everyone's still hung over from the night before.
Danger's parents, whom Draco hazily recalled were named David and Rose, would allow their house to be invaded next. According to Ray, they spent most of their time at these parties watching their horde of relatives and friends with a happily bemused look, as though wondering how exactly two dental degrees and one bookish daughter had led to a house full of half-drunk wizards singing off key.
‘Course, if Granger and Weasley smooth things over, Granger's parents might end up wondering the same thing.
The London Blacks, Sirius and Aletha, would take over from there, followed in quick succession by the Weasleys, the Lovegoods, and the Beauvois, who, like the Potters, often swapped their draw to get either first or last position.
One of those things about having a "stately home". Means you have things other people may not. Like ballrooms. And where there's a ballroom, people generally expect a ball. So we start and end with tradition, but the days in between can be quite literally anything… Ray swears blind Dumbledore filled the Great Hall with sand one time, and they had a beach party to ring in the New Year… and Ron says Fred and George are in charge of the party at the Burrow this year, I'd better watch my back that day…
A knock at the door brought Draco back to his surroundings. The parties, wild or sedate, were still several days in the future, and he had some explaining to do about the girl in his bed.
"Come in," he called. Luna shifted but did not wake.
Mum opened the door and stepped into the room. Her eyebrows went up at the sight of the bed's other occupant, and she folded her arms.
"Nothing happened," Draco protested.
The eyebrows lifted another inch or so. "Nothing?"
"Well. Almost nothing."
"Anything that you wouldn't have done in front of me?"
Draco flushed. His mum chuckled. "Never fear, little love, what's done is done. I will not scold you for it."
"Thanks. I'd get up to hug you, but I'm a little stuck at the moment…"
Mum laughed again and crossed the room to sit on his bed. To Draco's secret delight, she put her arms around both of them, though that could just have been because Luna hadn't left her much room to do anything else.
"As long as the story I heard last night is not true, what you did is your business and hers, not mine," she murmured into his ear. "I will, however, remind you that there are certain lines which should not be crossed until you have made a commitment."
"Nothing happened like that, Mum." Draco squeezed her arm between his shoulder and neck in lieu of any more comprehensive hug. "We snogged, we cuddled like this, I rubbed her back…"
"And her front?" Mum inquired blandly.
"Er."
"In other words, you were a pair of teenagers discovering that you care about one another." Mum smiled, dropping a kiss on Draco's cheek and another on the side of Luna's head. "Take it slowly, my love. But enjoy it. First love comes only once in a lifetime. Now, you two will likely be hungry, and then I would enjoy learning how you truly found one another."
"I thought you already knew—" Draco stopped. "Wait, how could you know? My days here come after my days there; I can't use the TVP to see into my future, only my past." He raised an eyebrow of his own at his mum. "So how, exactly, did someone tell you a story about Luna and me last night?"
"That is part of a story I need to tell you in my turn," Mum said quietly. "But after breakfast. We will all need to be well-fed to understand this."
"Oh, joy," Draco muttered. "Just what my life needed. More impossible complications."
"I believe it is part of the price you must pay for finding us." Mum kissed his cheek once more. "I will see you downstairs. Both of you."
"See you," Draco said to her back as the door closed behind her.
So the price of a life worth living is a little confusion, a few strange tasks, and tweaking my Headmaster's nose.
Somehow I think I'm getting a bargain.
I just hope the rest of the bill doesn't come due suddenly.