Chapter XXII: Reflections

The gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs had said that Demeter had left the Headmistress’ office almost twenty minutes ago, but still Morgaine decided to ascend. The girl might have left, but she hoped that Severus would still be there. Funnily enough, she was confident that Demeter had handled the meeting with the ghost of her father well. She was, however, not sure about Severus’ reaction. Hopefully, he had played nicely.

Morgaine could not keep her lips from twitching into a grin. How many first-years, cheeky Slytherins and timid Hufflepuffs alike, had been reduced to a puddle of tears during their first meeting with Severus Snape? How often had it not taken much more than a well-chosen word from him to make them quiver?

But surely, he would not have done so with his own child? Or would he?

Outside the office door, Morgaine paused. Severus was not there anymore, she would have sensed him otherwise. She always did. Certainly, he had retired to the dungeons.

For a moment, Morgaine closed her eyes and listened inwards: Yes, Severus was indeed in the dungeons, in his old study. But that was about all Morgaine could read. His mental barriers were strong that night, and she decided not to attempt to break them. Not yet anyway.

Instead she entered the now empty office.

Although Minerva had added her own personal touch to the office, it was still Dumbledore’s somehow. Minerva and the old headmaster had been good friends for many years, and Morgaine assumed that Minerva was reluctant to erase his trace completely. She had kept quite a few of his curious instruments, and even Fawkes’ cage was still there, despite the fact that the phoenix had not been seen since the day Dumbledore had been laid to rest. She used Dumbledore’s old chair, his desk, and on the coffee table Morgaine spotted his old tea set.

She did not even flinch as she heard his voice. She had expected him to be there, and out of sheer habit, her eyes flitted towards the chair behind the desk where she had seen him sit so many times, smiling benignly and his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. But of course, his voice was coming from his portrait on the wall.

‘What happened to your hand, child?’ was the first question he asked.

‘I played with fire and was burned,’ Morgaine replied and then slowly turned to face Dumbledore’s portrait, fixing its inhabitant with the icy look that was reserved for him alone. Any trace of wistfulness had disappeared from her mind.

‘I assume you have not been visiting any of your other portraits over the last hour, have you, Dumbledore?’ she asked.

‘You saw me leave when you brought Demeter, did you not?’ Suddenly the old man looked affronted. ‘Are you accusing me of eavesdropping?’

Morgaine crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Dumbledore.’

Dumbledore tilted his head and looked down at the young woman in front of his portrait. ‘There was a time when you called me grandfather,’ he pointed out. The offended look had given way to an almost sad one, and he sounded regretful.

‘There was a time when you deserved the title, old man.’ She had not said the words loudly, and for the time being, Morgaine did not care whether Dumbledore had heard them or not. She doubted that her bitterness towards her great-grandfather would ever lose its sting. If she had a choice, she would never talk to him again, not after how he had used her. Her, Severus, even Demeter. But for the time being, she had no choice.

‘How did it go?’ she started.

‘How do you think it went, child?’ Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling so kindly that it seemed impossible that he could have heard Morgaine’s hate-filled words. ‘Demeter was very well-behaved. She answered her father’s questions, and she answered them truthfully. As for Severus …’ Dumbledore broke off and a smile played around his lips. ‘Severus was as we would have expected him to be: guarded, uncomfortable. Yet he was curious.’

As much as Morgaine tried to keep her stern look, she could not help but smile as well. She had expected nothing less of Demeter than that she would look her father straight in the eyes and try to impress him, driven by Gryffindor bravery and Slytherin ambition. As for Severus, she had not expected him to react in any other way either. Ghost or not, he would not let anyone inside his armour, not even his own child. Not yet, anyway.

‘Was it evil of me to leave the two of them alone?’ she asked softly, and caught herself looking up at her great-grandfather almost in the same way she had many years ago, when she had still been an innocent child and the world still in its order. Back then, she had believed that Dumbledore had all the right answers.

‘No, my child, not evil,’ Dumbledore replied. ‘It was an act worthy of a Slytherin. You left them alone and hence forced them to get to know each other. The meeting could have ended in tears, but Demeter faced the challenge bravely.’

‘She is doing her House proud already,’ Morgaine pointed out.

‘Indeed,’ Dumbledore agreed. ‘Telling Severus Snape that he had been Sorted into the wrong House does take a brave person.’

Morgaine’s eyebrows shut upwards, and a short laugh escaped her throat. ‘She told him what?’

Dumbledore nodded. ‘They discussed House qualities, and Severus suggested that you should have been Sorted into Gryffindor because of your bravery. Whereupon Demeter told him that the same applied to him.’

The smile froze on Morgaine’s lips and was replaced by a frown. ‘I assume Severus did not react too kindly to that.’ Over the years, many people had pointed out that Severus Snape had been a brave man, and it had seldom earned them anything but a sneer.

Dumbledore’s eyes, however, were still twinkling. ‘Severus told Demeter not to listen to what other people say, but to make up her own mind. And I like to think your daughter understood his advice.’

He paused and then fixed Morgaine with a searching look over his half-moon spectacles. ‘I assume that we have now arrived at the point of our discussion where we should have started from the very beginning. Is it not so, Morgaine?’

Morgaine did not answer, but sank her teeth into her bottom lip. She hated it when Dumbledore read her mind. And she hated it when he was right. But Dumbledore did not need her to answer.

‘You are relieved that Demeter has not been Sorted into Slytherin,’ Dumbledore pointed out. ‘You are relieved that she will spend her waking hours far away from the people you think could have a bad influence on her. You are relieved that she will sleep in the tower and not in the dungeon.’

‘Can you blame me?’ Morgaine’s voice was soft now and had lost any kind of bitterness. This was not about her feeling towards her great-grandfather. This was not about her at all. This was about her daughter. She needed the old man. She needed his wisdom and his cunning. She needed him to help her protect her child.

Dumbledore nodded towards her left hand. ‘Even in the Shrieking Shack, you cannot cast an ancient spell without being noticed,’ he pointed out and raised his hand as Morgaine opened her mouth. ‘You did the right thing, child. Demeter will wear the talisman gladly because you gave it to her. It will protect her and it will help you sleep at night. You can also count on the magic of Gryffindor House and the magic of a very powerful ghost. I think no child within these walls has ever been better protected.’

‘Does she need protection?’ Morgaine asked, clamping her hand around the three obsidians that still lay in her pocket. ‘Is my child in danger?’

‘Not tonight, Morgaine,’ Dumbledore answered. ‘Tonight, Demeter will sleep safely in Gryffindor Tower. You do not need to keep watch. Tonight, you need to take care of yourself. Go to the dungeons, child. Go to Severus.’

~ ~ ~
Morgaine was greeted by the sound of glass breaking as she entered the dark corridor that led down to Severus’ old study, and her brow furrowed. Too often had she heard that sound. Too often had it been the result of Severus releasing built-up tension. Did that mean that his meeting with Demeter had not gone well after all, despite what Dumbledore had said?

She did not open the door at once, but let her hand rest on the doorknob, silently calling out for Severus. If his wall was still up, she would not enter his study, but leave him alone. But his mind was open, and he told her to enter.

There were no smashed phials on the floor. Actually, there was no glass anywhere. And Severus’ ghost was hovering beside the fireplace, where a fire was crackling. He seemed calm, despite his slight scowl.

‘Is everything alright?’ Morgaine asked and carefully closed the door behind her. ‘I thought I heard ...’

‘Glass smashing?’ Severus’ scowl darkened. ‘It seems I overestimated my magical abilities. I am apparently incapable of conducting a task as simple as transporting two glasses and a bottle of wine at the same time.’

There was indeed a bottle of elf-made wine standing on the mantelpiece and a fine crystal glass beside it.

‘Why two glasses?’ Morgaine enquired.

‘Just because I am unable to drink with you does not mean that I have no manners,’ Severus replied, his tone more annoyed than snappish. ‘I meant to keep you company when toasting.’

His waved his ghostly hand, and the bottle seemed to uncork itself, floated up into the air, tilted and filled the intact glass with dark red wine.

‘I am afraid you have to make a toast on your own now,’ Severus pointed out. ‘The other glass is beyond repair.’

Morgaine stepped closer. ‘And what are we – am I – toasting to?’

‘To our daughter’s arrival at Hogwarts?’ Severus suggested.

Our daughter. Morgaine smiled, accepted the glass that came floating towards her and repeated Severus’ toast. He had said our daughter.

‘How did it go?’ she asked straightforwardly after the first sip. She wanted to know. She wanted to know now and did not have the patience for pleasantries.

‘She called me sir,’ was the first thing Severus said, and his tone spoke of uttermost annoyance.

But instead of growing worried, Morgaine had to fight hard not to grin. Could it be that the stern, otherwise so confident Severus Snape was feeling insecure because his daughter had addressed him in such a formal manner?

‘Demeter is almost twelve and met you for the very first time,’ she pointed out, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch, and quickly raised her glass to her lips. Heavens forbid she would annoy Severus. ‘You did not expect her to call you Daddy, did you?’

‘No,’ Severus replied grumpily and frowned.

This time, Morgaine could not resist grinning at his reaction. What had he expected, she wondered. What had anyone expected? Surely, if Demeter had indeed called Severus Daddy and tried to wrap her arms around his neck – had that been physically possible – he would most probably have hexed her. No, not hexed. Physical violence was not something Severus resorted to. But he would certainly have chided her, and his words would have made the girl recoil in a more effective way than any hex would ever have. His sharp tongue had for many years been his weapon of choice, and he had wielded it well.

‘Have you spoken to Demeter yet?’ Severus suddenly asked.

Morgaine shook her head. ‘It’s her first night in the castle. The last thing she needs is me mothering her. She has friends to make.’

Severus smirked. ‘I told her the same thing.’

‘This means we are either good parents or make the same mistakes,’ Morgaine pointed out drily. Now that she knew that the meeting between Severus and their daughter had gone well, her other fears came creeping back into her heart. Not even the heavy elf-made wine seemed to be able to make her unwind. And as she felt Severus’ intense look upon her, she did not even try to hide her tension.

‘Demeter is not the only one with a lot on her mind tonight, am I right?’ Severus asked, his eyes narrowed.

Morgaine shook her head and put down her glass on the mantle. ‘I know it’s silly,’ she started. ‘Gryffindor is a good House. And Demeter is a good child and a talented witch. She will make friends and impress her teachers. But still ...’

‘You would be a strange mother if you did not worry, Morgaine,’ Severus pointed out and drifted closer, close enough that Morgaine could feel her skin prickle at his proximity.

‘Demeter will do fine,’ Severus continued. ‘She seems bright and strong-willed.’

‘She has inherited those traits from her father,’ Morgaine interrupted.

Severus fixed her with a stern look. ‘Do not diminish your own qualities, Morgaine.’

He tilted his head, and as Morgaine lifted hers, her eyes locked immediately onto his. They had been onyx once, she thought. As dark as the three stones she had handed over to her most trusted elf a short while ago.

‘I have already noticed how much Demeter resembles you,’ Severus said. ‘She is openhearted and honest. And the light in her eyes is the same you once had. So is her smile. And both are sorely missed.’

Severus’ voice was as soft as the most expensive velvet, and it seemed to wrap itself around Morgaine’s heart. She felt her bottom lip quiver, and as much as she hated it, she could not stop it. Just as little as she could keep her eyes from filling with tears.

‘I was so afraid that you would be gone when I returned, Severus,’ she said in a low voice. She had not meant to tell him, but she could not keep quiet any longer. ‘You have no idea why you are still here. You have no idea if you will still be here tomorrow or even in an hour. You could be gone the next time I blink.’

A tear ran down her cheek, and Morgaine wiped it off with the back of her hand, endlessly angry with herself. She should be focusing on the well-being of her child now. Instead she was crying for a ghost. And herself.

But Severus understood.

‘I am afraid, too, Morgaine,’ he confessed, surprised at how easy the words had come. Not so long ago, he would never have confessed his fears. But these were different times now. And for Morgaine, he would bare his soul. Maybe, if he were lucky, his confession would make it easier for her.

‘I am afraid that I once more will have to leave without being able to take farewell from you,’ he continued. ‘I am afraid I will not see our daughter grow up. When I met her today … Morgaine, I do not want to leave either of you. And I do not know how, but I will do everything in my power to be right by your side. Always.’

Always.

Severus had given this promise before, to the woman he had once loved and whom he had thought that he would love forever. She had kept a firm grip of his heart and soul for many years, and he had kept his promise and had protected her son until the very end, until he had been absolved.

He would keep this promise as well. For Morgaine, he would sacrifice his soul. For her, he would not do it out of guilt but true love. And this time, the child he had promised to protect was his own.

~ ~ ~
It seemed natural that Morgaine would spend the night in Severus’ old quarters. He did not even have to ask her. And when she lay in his bed, her chestnut hair and pale skin contrasted so beautifully with the dark sheets, and her cheeks were flushed from the elf-made wine.

‘May I?’ Severus asked and carefully extended his ghostly hand towards hers.

Morgaine did not answer, but wordlessly lifted her hand from the bed. They met in mid-air, palm to palm, and for a moment Severus was afraid that Morgaine’s hand would glide through his like a wanderer through the mists or a ship though water. But then he felt a tickling sensation, and his hand felt warm. And their fingers once more entwined as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Severus kept his eyes firmly on their hands, transfixed by the sight. It was almost eerie, and somehow it felt wrong. Ghost and human were not supposed to touch. But how could it be wrong if it felt so good? Why would the gods allow it, if it were wrong?

The hours passed, and the fire in the grate had long since stopped burning when a whisper made Severus snap up his head.

‘Would you want to come back to life?’

‘Excuse me?’

But Morgaine did not answer his question. In fact, she had probably not heard him. She was fast asleep. She had either talked in her sleep or it had been her soul whispering to Severus’ in the dead of night. It had happened before.

She looked so peaceful in her sleep. Gone were the frown on her brow and the tears on her cheek, and as Severus considered her question, he could only find one answer: Yes. Heavens, yes.

He had thought that being a ghost was enough. He was able to communicate and interact with the people around him and had even learnt to hold Morgaine’s hand. Maybe one day, he would learn to do more, but so far, it had been enough. Their relationship had, after all, always been more on a psychical level than a physical. But not having been able to follow Morgaine to Iceland over the summer, not even having been able to use the Floo network to talk to her, and – most of all – not having been able to embrace her when she had returned, had changed Severus’ perspective. Being a ghost, just being there, wasn’t enough. Not for him and definitely not for Morgaine. He could hear her sigh of relief every time he touched her hand and could feel the strength in her fingers when they closed around his. And he could see the disappointed look in her eyes every time they let go. She needed more. And he couldn’t give it to her.

And then there was Demeter.

Severus had never liked children, but this one was different. This child was his own flesh and blood, the daughter of the woman for whom he had returned from the realms of death. And the child reminded him so much of her mother.

They look nothing alike, Severus thought as he let his eyes rest on Morgaine’s face. But still, when he had met his daughter earlier, all he had been able to think of had been Morgaine.

Had it been because of the girl’s honesty with which she had answered his questions? Or had it been the fact that she had not trembled under his scrutinising gaze? Or had it been the look in her blue eyes, the look that said, I am here to stay no matter how hard you are trying to push me away?

Morgaine had been like that as well when she had come to Hogwarts. She had defiantly put out her chin when he had given her tasks he would not have given any other student her age. She had narrowed her eyes at his biting comments and returned them as well as he had dished them out. And when the whole world around him had seemed to sink into darkness, she had been waiting patiently in the shadows until he had been ready to accept her help, her friendship and eventually her love.

Slytherin determination and Gryffindor bravery. During their short meeting, Severus had noticed that Demeter, like her mother, possessed the two qualities the rivalling Houses valued most. She would have done well in Slytherin, there was no doubt. But the Sorting Hat had chosen Gryffindor.

Severus’ lips twitched. Who would have thought that his daughter would be Sorted into the House he had once despised most of all? Yes, had despised. Nowadays, he did not care that much anymore. He had learnt that the qualities people carried in their hearts mattered more than the colour of their House scarf. Certainly, Demeter would do her House proud. She would impress her teachers and her peers with her mind and her personality alike.

And all he could do was to stand by and watch.

A shadow fell over Severus’ pale face as it hit him how much he would miss. He would never lift his daughter onto a broomstick and teach her how to fly. He would never guide her hand while stirring a potion or casting a spell. He would never ...

Would he ever be able to do anything for his daughter? How were they to interact, a ghost and a child? It was hard enough for Morgaine, and she was a grown woman who made her own decisions. Demeter was merely a child, and soon she would be busy studying magic and making friends. She would not have time for a ghost. And despite her telling him that she would like to meet him again, Severus had his doubts. He wouldn’t impose himself on her. The child would have to come to him.

~ ~ ~
Up in her four-poster bed in Gryffindor tower, Demeter was unaware of her father’s thoughts. She had her own troubles that made it hard for her to fall asleep, and the belly ache caused by seven Chocolate Frogs and half a box of Bertie Botts was not the main reason for her still being awake. There were a million thoughts in her head, and the most dominant was about her meeting with the ghost of Severus Snape.

It had gone well, had it not? After what she had heard of Severus Snape lately, she had been prepared to have her head ripped off. But said head was still firmly attached to her neck. He had not snapped or been mean in any way. He had been ... Well, how had he been?

Reserved was the first word that sprang to Demeter’s mind. She had expected that. Her mother had told her that Severus Snape had never been a cordial man, and as this had been their first meeting, Demeter had not expected him to hug her or anything. But she would have liked him to be a little more, well, fatherly.

He had commented about her looks. Apparently, she had inherited them from her grandparents. And Demeter would have loved to ask the ghost about his parents, but she had not dared. If he had wanted to tell her anything, he would surely have done so of his own accord.

He had also commented about her Sorting. To Demeter’s surprise, he had not seemed too disappointed that the Hat had put her into Gryffindor. Actually, it almost seemed as if he had a positive attitude towards the bravery of Gryffindor House. Who would have thought?

But then Demeter had made a mistake for which she now wanted to slap herself. She had had the audacity to tell Severus Snape that he should have been a Gryffindor as well because he, according to Harry Potter, had possessed a lot of bravery himself. After that, he had more or less broken off their little chat and told her to go back to her common room.

But he had also asked her if she wanted to meet him again. And when she had given him a positive answer, he had not objected.

Demeter once more turned in her bed. It could have gone worse, she told herself. He had asked her to come back, after all. But still, she had the feeling that she had not made the best of impressions.

Walking down the stairs from the Headmistress’ office, she had not met anyone, no other students, no teachers, not even a ghost, and for some moments, she had considered trying to find her mother’s quarters. But she had decided against it. Partly because she could barely find her way back to Gryffindor tower and would most certainly get lost, but first and foremost because she did not want to be a cry-baby. Her mother had obviously been under the impression that Demeter could handle the situation, otherwise she would not have left her daughter alone with the ghost. Surely, she would have been disappointed if Demeter had come knocking at her door to tell her that she was afraid that Severus Snape did not like her.

And so, Demeter had returned to Gryffindor tower and her dormitory, where Sarah and Livia had been waiting up for her, sharing sweets and silly stories about make-up, shoes and boys. And Demeter had joined in, eating more sweets than was good for her and smiling happily just so neither of her new friends would ask any detailed questions about the meeting with the ghost of her father.

When the clock crept towards eleven, sleep finally overcame Demeter, and she drifted off into the land of dreams, never noticing the elf that silently put a small parcel on her nightstand. It was not until the next morning that she unwrapped it and found a simple silver necklace with a Phoenix-shaped pendent. The bird held three black obsidians in its claws and seemed to be taking flight towards the heavens. Underneath lay a neatly folded note from her mother, telling her to wear the pendent as a good-luck-charm and inviting her to the Potions mistress’ office after breakfast.

But before Demeter went down to the Great Hall, she unwrapped the second parcel that had appeared right beside the first one at the stroke of midnight, seemingly out of thin air. That parcel was wrapped in dark green paper and did not contain any note, just a heavy silver ring, encrusted with precious emeralds which were encircled by three coiling snakes. It was the perfect welcome gift to Hogwarts for the daughter of Severus Snape, had she been Sorted into Slytherin House. But as it was far too big for her to wear, Demeter carefully put it back into its box and stowed it away safely in the bottom drawer of her nightstand.