Chapter XVI: Apart

‘You have to be patient, little one. The term doesn’t end for another month.’

‘But you’re coming straight home after that, aren’t you, Mother?’

‘You don’t want me to go to London first to buy you a present in Diagon Alley?’

Morgaine smiled mischievously, and Demeter seemed to contemplate her mother’s offer for a couple of moments. But then the girl shook her head resolutely, her black hair whipping around her face. ‘No, I want you to come straight to Iceland because ...’ She broke off, and her blue eyes darted from the left to the right, as if to check that no one was eavesdropping on her. ‘I miss you, Mummy,’ she whispered.

Morgaine swallowed drily. ‘I miss you, too, Demeter. Not long now.’ She tilted her head to the side and smiled once more, a kind smile this time, a smile reserved for the people who held a special place in her heart. ‘You should be in bed, little one,’ she added. ‘One hour time difference or not, it is late.’

‘But the sun’s still up!’ Demeter protested.

‘If you wait to go to sleep until the sun sets and get up when it rises again, you will get very little sleep. Go now. Sweet dreams.’

Morgaine’s tone was friendly but firm, very much like the tone she used in class, and Demeter didn’t argue. She bid her mother goodnight and blew her a kiss through the fire. A moment later, she was gone, and the flames died not long after her face had disappeared. But Morgaine stayed on her knees in front of the now empty grate. There was still a ghost of a smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes anymore.

‘She seems to miss you a lot,’ Severus said in a low voice as he detached himself from the shadows from where he had been listening to their conversation. ‘I assume you feel the same.’

Morgaine took a deep, shaking breath, and Severus could see her twisting her hands in her lap. ‘I missed so much time with her,’ Morgaine said quietly. ‘And I cannot believe that there was a time when I was unable to love her.’

Severus drifted closer. ‘It is not like you actively chose not to love her.’ He did not like to have that conversation. They had had it before, and still he found it hard to convince Morgaine of what was obvious to him. ‘You had a rough pregnancy, and Demeter’s first year was a difficult time for you. No one can blame you for having felt overwhelmed. You must not blame yourself, Morgaine.’

She bit her lip in a very similar manner Demeter had moments ago, and despite the serious topic, Severus couldn’t help but smile. The girl might have his looks, but from what he had seen of her so far, she was her mother through and through. The same annoying habit of biting her lip, the same smile, the same sparkling eyes.

Severus lowered himself to his knees and looked into Morgaine’s eyes. As so often, far too often, they weren’t sparkling. Her blue eyes looked haunted, and her body language told Severus that Morgaine did not want to talk but rather run away. But he could not keep quiet and leave her with her dark thoughts. ‘You love Demeter,’ he continued in a calm tone. He had to convince her. ‘And most importantly, Demeter knows that you do.’

He could literally see Morgaine tense up. This, too, had happened before, and it made him feel utterly helpless. Most of the time, when Morgaine spoke about Demeter or shared her memories with him, she was happy, and he could see a mother’s pride reflect in her eyes. But there were other times, times like this one, when a shadow passed over her face and she turned away from him to hide, blaming herself for things that had been out of her hands. Those moments were far too many, and sometimes Severus feared that he would never be able to convince Morgaine that she was not to blame.

Whenever had she become so fearful, so self-accusing? She had always been so strong, standing right by his side for years, taking the blows that had been dealt out by both sides. Tall and unwaveringly she had stood year after year, facing all sorts of evil and accusations. Now Severus doubted that she would have the strength.

She was looking at him now with that sad smile that made him ache deep inside his soul. There was a treacherous tear hanging on her lashes, and Severus wished for nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and let her cry at his shoulder. But he was unable to. No matter how much he practised, no matter how many other ghosts he asked for advice, the only touch he was capable of was holding her hand sometimes.

He concentrated hard, put all his mental energy into materialising, and as he extended his ghostly hand towards hers it once more shimmered blue and he managed to close his fingers around hers.

‘You must not blame yourself, Morgaine,’ he repeated. ‘You must not brood on the past. It will not change anything. Trust me. I speak from experience.’

Morgaine laughed a little at his dry tone and looked down at their entwined hands. Severus wished she would squeeze back, but she never did. In some way, he could understand her. Him being able to hold her hand defied every law of magic he knew of, and he assumed that Morgaine was afraid. But at least she did not flinch away. Her hand lay still in his, small and warm, and Severus wondered if he was really able to feel the warmth of her skin or if the sensation was just an imprint in his mind, a memory from a time long gone.

‘I’ve been thinking about something,’ Morgaine suddenly said. ‘When Demeter comes to Hogwarts ... I do not want the other students to think that she is receiving any special treatment just because she is a duLac. And in case she gets sorted into Slytherin ...’ She took a deep breath to gather her courage. ‘Severus, I was wondering ... would you like Demeter to carry your last name?’

For a moment, Severus was taken aback. Demeter carrying his name would mean telling the whole world that she was his child. Would she want to? So far, they had not even met.

‘That it is up Demeter to decide,’ he said, his tone low and calm. ‘After all, the girl has never laid eyes on me. She might not want to carry my name.’ He squeezed Morgaine’s hand tighter as she opened her mouth to protest and smirked. ‘Besides, Snape does not exactly have a beautiful tone.’

He stayed for another hour or two. Morgaine sat by the fire and drank tea, and when Severus saw her eyelids become heavy, he bid her goodnight. She would never tell him to leave, and as much as he liked to watch her sleep, he wanted her to sleep undisturbed that night. As he floated towards the door, he heard her call his name and turned around to face her once more.

‘Demeter will love your name,’ she declared. ‘And she will carry it with pride.’

~ ~ ~
Morgaine Apparated to the edge of the geyser field, almost an hour’s walk from the tiny village she had grown up in. She could have Flooed directly to her grandmother’s kitchen, but she had chosen differently. She was in a strange mood and needed some time on her own to clear her head before meeting her daughter.

She had spent her last night at Hogwarts in the dungeons, first curled up in the armchair in Severus’ old study, then in his bed. They had talked, they had laughed, and when she had drifted off to sleep, Severus had once more held her hand. This time, she had dared squeeze back. Normally, she was too afraid that her fingers would go straight through his, that her moving would break the spell. But last night, another fear had been bigger: she had been afraid that it could be the last time they held hands.

It was a silly and utterly illogical thought, Morgaine knew that. Why would Severus not be at Hogwarts anymore when she returned in the autumn? Why would her leaving the castle mean that he would leave, too? He had been waiting for her when she had returned after New Year’s. Her fear didn’t make sense. But still, there was a knot in her stomach, and she felt frightened. Certainly, Severus had promised that he would never leave her side. But how could he make such a promise? He had still no idea why he had not passed on. How could he know that he would not just vanish into thin air one day? And what would she do the day it happened?

The hissing of a geyser made her snap up her head. She had to stop brooding, she told herself. Looking for answers that did not exist might just push her over the edge and make her tumble into the depths of insanity. Better to concentrate on the present, the tangible, the rational.

The village where she had spent the bigger part of her childhood had already come into sight. It lay peacefully embedded between the green hills, far away from any roads or other signs of civilisation, protected by ancient magic. Those who did not know of its existence or came uninvited would never find it. The village was detached from the real world and lay beneath it, behind it. Morgaine did not fully understand the ancient spells, but she knew they were there. They had protected her once, just as they were now protecting her daughter.

She narrowed her eyes, squinting into the sunlight, trying to identify the dark figure that had detached itself from the village. The figure was approaching quickly, and as it came closer, Morgaine could make out a dark blue skirt, a matching shirt, a pale face and raven black hair. Both mother and daughter broke into a run and almost fell as they embraced each other. And for a moment, Morgaine considered never to let go again.

‘You have grown,’ she pointed out as she held Demeter at an arm’s length later. Not even twelve years old, and already Demeter had outgrown her.

Snape genes, Morgaine concluded, she herself being barely five and a half feet tall with round hips and soft curves. Demeter, however, was tall and lean. Her skin was pale, and her hair was framing her face like velvety curtains. Her father’s daughter, through and through. Anyone who had known Severus would notice.

Demeter straightened and compared her height to her mother’s. ‘Looks like you can’t call me little one anymore.’ She smiled, and her eyes seemed to reflect the sunlight. They were blue and twinkling, just like Dumbledore’s once had been. Just as kind. And Morgaine did her best not to turn away.

~ ~ ~
‘A letter for Master Snape.’

At the former Potions master’s command, the elf unrolled the parchment and put it on the desk. And as the ghost did not give any further instructions, the little creature Disapparated with a pop.

Morgaine’s handwriting had changed slightly over the years, Severus noticed as he let his eyes travel down the parchment. It was still neat but now slightly cramped. And at some places, the letters looked shaky.

It is almost midnight, but the sun has not yet set. Everyone else is asleep, and I will go to bed soon as well. But first, I wanted to let you know that I arrived safely.

I spent the evening alone by the Well. The place still looks the same, quiet and peaceful. Do you remember it, Severus? Up there, on the hill?

Yes, he remembered the Well. Morgaine had brought him there when she had just been seventeen. He had been her teacher, and she had been his student. And still they had shared a kiss. It had been wrong, and still they had fallen in love.

Demeter has grown a fair bit. She is almost two heads taller than me now. Your genes, I assume. Oh, she looks so much like you.

How much must it have hurt to return to Iceland after his death and find that their daughter had grown up to look just like him, Severus mused. He knew how it felt to be haunted by one’s past. His ghosts had once taken the form of a child as well. He had never been able to look into Harry Potter’s eyes and not feel a stab of guilt. He had failed to protect the boy’s mother, and those green eyes had reminded him of his failure over and over again.

A frown appeared on Severus' ghostly brow. Lily. By Merlin, he had not thought of her since the night Morgaine had mentioned his Patronus, and that was almost a year ago. Never before or after had the memory of Lily crossed his mind after his death.

Severus thought back to his last moments in life, when he had lain dying, looking into Harry Potter’s green eyes. He had seen Lily’s eyes then, but it had been Morgaine’s voice, the memory of her and her love, that had made him let go. And since that moment, his whole heart and his whole soul had belonged to Morgaine. He would spend eternity by her side if it were up to him.

But was it wise, he suddenly wondered. Was it good for Morgaine? Or was she spending too many nights in the dungeons in his company and too many nights in his bed? Was he keeping her from living her life? She was still young, still alive but spent most of her time with a ghost. Even now, when she was in Iceland, thousands of miles away from him, her mind was still with him. Instead of going to bed, she was writing a letter to a ghost.

The cold hands of guilt gripped Severus’ soul. He had thought – hoped – that his being there for Morgaine when she returned to Hogwarts would do her good. They had never said goodbye in life, and he had hoped that they would be able to take farewell now and that it would enable Morgaine to let go. But instead, they were steadily growing closer.

It wasn’t natural. It couldn’t be good for her. But Severus had no idea how to help her start living her own life again.

~ ~ ~
Many miles away, surrounded by green hills, hissing geysers and ancient magic, Morgaine lay awake in her bed. She had fallen asleep the moment her head had made contact with her pillow and slept dreamlessly for a couple of hours. But in the early morning, just when the summer sun had started to creep through the gap between the curtains, she had shot up, feeling chilled to the bones, her heart racing.

Her eyes darted around the room, and it took her a moment to realise that she was not at Hogwarts anymore. She was in her old room in Iceland, and around her was only silence. There was nothing there that could have woken her up. She closed her eyes again and took some deep breaths, willing her heartbeat to slow down and at the same time trying to remember her dreams. Surely, she must have woken up from a nightmare, judging from how her nightshirt stuck to her back and the fast beating of her heart. But as much as she tried to remember her dreams, she was only met by emptiness, and all that was left was a chilling feeling of cold and solitude.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep, Morgaine knew that. So despite the early hour, she dressed and went outside. The house was still silent and so was the rest of the village. No one was up apart from her. They were all still sleeping peacefully, and Morgaine could not explain why she was not doing the same.

She wandered around aimlessly, breathing deeply and enjoying the peace around her, and before she knew it, she was walking along the river, her eyes fixed on a spot not far ahead, a spot where once a lonely birch tree had stood. A tree that had known so many of her secrets and which she had burnt to ashes a year ago, because she had hoped it would help her to start anew.

But nothing had started anew. She had hoped to be able to take farewell of Severus, to let him go, for both their sakes. Instead, they had grown closer. And Morgaine doubted that she would survive if Severus disappeared. Their souls had been connected for many years, but now it felt as if his had become a part of hers.

Abruptly, she stopped and turned. She would not go any closer to the place where she had fallen in love and promised her heart to Severus. She couldn’t. She mustn’t. She had to let go. But she had no idea how.

She fortified her mental walls and returned to the village. Today she would start tutoring her daughter. When the girl came to Hogwarts, she would know enough about charms and spells to be able to shine in class and impress her teachers. And she would also be prepared to meet her father’s ghost.