It took Lavinia nearly two months to gather her courage and apologize to Severus. She knew she'd been awful and she hadn't so much as given him a chance and besides, Bertie had been right, as he so often was. Lavinia needed to apologize, if only because she couldn't bear any more unresolved guilt. She had plenty and it was already eating her alive.
So it was that on a cloudy afternoon in mid May, Lavinia decided she was finally going to do it. Not that she had even the faintest clue where to find Severus. So, rather reluctantly, she started by going to Dumbledore, figuring that if Severus really had started working for him, then the old man would probably know where to find her old friend.
If she was honest, this was part of why she took so very long to get around to seeking Severes out. Put simply, she just didn't want to see Dumbledore. The last time she'd encountered the Hogwarts Headmaster, she'd said some rather terrible things. And though she knew those things had been borne from a raging sort of grief... it didn't change the fact that they had been awful.
On top of her reluctance to face Dumbledore again, there was the issue of going back to Hogwarts. She'd been back only once since she'd graduated and it hadn't exactly been pleasant. It had been after an awful, awful day, the memory of which still made her skin crawl, and she had practically begged Dumbledore to help her. And he had. Which was strange enough, really and an odd almost positive that had been starkly offset by the events that had led her to the Headmaster in the first place.
But she'd also broken a promise that day. A promise to an old friend. And a promise she now had the chance to fulfill.
So, with that in mind, Lavinia's first stop upon entering the ancient castle wasn't the Headmaster's office, but rather, the kitchens.
It was the strangest thing to step into that room, to have her senses flooded with the smells of dinner preparation. Strange and yet... nice, in it's own way.
It was exactly like she remembered. All the little elves bustling this way and that, steam rising off of pots and dishes starting to accumulate on the four long tables that mirrored those in the Great Hall above. It was like... Like nothing had changed. Like she was still in school, still escaping the world by tucking herself into a corner of the kitchens to watch these elves lead lives that were productive and uncomplicated.
She stood, stunned, in the doorway for only a brief moment before the elves noticed that someone had entered and she was pulled from her thoughts and memories as a slightly slope-backed elf came hurrying up to her, beaming as he paused and bowed low.
"Miss Lavinia," the elf intoned, the slightly squeaky words full of suppressed joy.
Lavinia smiled down at the creature, something softening in her. Apparently, this too hadn't changed.
"Hello Dinser," she murmured, watching as he rose from his bow.
"Miss is back for a visit," the elf observed, beaming up at her even as he pushed himself to his fullest, and not very impressive, height.
"I did promise," Lavinia pointed out, though something squirmed in her, remembering that she had not made good on that promise the first time she'd stepped into this castle. Of course, she'd been distracted then and the world had been chaotic and now... now the chaos was confined to small parts of her head and she'd realized that chaos was no reason not to drop in on someone who had taken better care of her than she'd deserved all those years ago.
"Miss will have some tea," Dinser announced, now ushering her over towards the corner she'd spent so much time in. Lavinia laughed slightly, but didn't argue as the elf sat her down like she was some guest of honor and served her tea as he had perhaps a hundred times before.
It was so weird. So very very weird, to sit here again.
Like nothing had changed.
And it was oddly comforting to know that, oddly nice to be tucked into this corner and know that at least some bit of the world remained untouched and untainted by the hells unleashed by the war.
So Lavinia spent the next hour or so sipping tea and watching the kitchens prepare for dinner and remembering times that were long, long gone. Remembering the moments she'd spent at Hogwarts that had been... good. She wondered vaguely how she had let herself forget these times. How she'd managed to convince herself that everything that had happened in this castle was dark and awful or at the very least, bittersweet now that the world had changed so much. But this... this was just like it had always been and the air and atmosphere were as warm and welcoming as she remembered.
It made her think that maybe, just maybe, those years during the war, those years with Sirius, might not have been entirely lost either. Maybe there were moments in there that, like this, had never been tainted. Moments that she might be able to look back at and smile about without any grief or pain or suspicion. Maybe. If she bothered to look for them. If she bothered to try. Of course, these days, there were a lot of things that hung on that particular 'if'.
So for now, Lavinia sighed and sipped her tea, filing this consideration away for later, for a time when those ifs felt a little more feasible.
Some time later, Lavinia departed the kitchens feeling better and lighter than she had in months. She thanked Dinser for his company and service and the elf puffed out his chest in pride before bowing low to her and asking her if she would come back again. And Lavinia, slightly to her own surprise, had agreed without hesitation. Because, she realized, she would like to come back here. She would like to sit in that corner and watch the elves busying themselves around the kitchen and smell bread baking and see all the work behind the scenes. She would like to remember that some things never changed, no matter how much the world fell apart.
So it was that she arrived at the Headmaster's office only shortly before dinner. Which was lucky, actually, because she realized that she had absolutely no idea what the password to the hidden spiral stair was. Thanks to her lucky timing, however, she stood staring at the gargoyle for only a little while, before the gargoyle sprang aside of its own accord and the door opened to reveal none other than Dumbledore himself, waiting patiently as the spiraling steps descended like a muggle escalator.
He blinked curiously at her as he stepped off the moving stone and onto solid ground.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Selwyn?" the Headmaster asked, inclining his head politely as he watched her from the other side of the threshold.
Lavinia stared at him for a moment, mildly surprised that he was being so... cordial. Last time they'd talked she'd ended the conversation by demanding he leave her home and never come back. She'd expected at least a little chill to his tone, or perhaps even a telling off. But then, she supposed, Dumbledore, talented legilimens that he was, had been in a position to realize just how broken her heart and soul had been when she'd said those words. So perhaps he'd forgiven her for them.
"I have business with Severus Snape," she said finally, keeping her tone rather formal and hoping Dumbledore wouldn't bother to question what exactly that business was. "I thought you might know where I could find him."
Dumbledore showed only a hint of surprise in the form of eyebrows that raised over his half moon spectacles as he surveyed her. "He is in this castle," the Headmaster supplied mildly.
"What?" asked Lavinia, frowning. Was that luck or... Or what? She had no idea why Severus would be at Hogwarts. Unless Dumbledore had somehow known she was coming and exactly what for, but that seemed a little far fetched even for the old man. No matter how much he liked no nose into other peoples' business, Lavinia didn't think he would go that far.
"I hired him as Potions Master at the beginning of last year when dear Professor Slugborn retired," the old man explained, still with the same level tone, like they were discussing the weather, or perhaps what to have for dinner.
It was Lavinia's turn to raise her eyebrows. "You hired him to teach," she repeated blandly, trying, and probably failing, to contain her surprise and skepticism at the wisdom of that particular decision.
Dumbledore inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, something unreadable glinting in his eyes that made Lavinia pause. It looked almost like... like he was preparing to defend Severus. From her. Why, she couldn't imagine unless he thought she was going to bring up Severus's frankly shady history. Which, honestly, she was tempted to do, in addition to pointing out that Severus had never exactly been the most patient person and she had her doubts about his ability to teach anything without getting rather annoyed at his students. But that look made her pause. Made her wonder.
"What did he do for you in the war?" she asked instead, narrowing her eyes slightly. Not because she really cared what Severus's role had been but... but it must have been something that had caused Dumbledore to trust Severus enough to give him access to students. Especially students from pureblood families who would no doubt be only too easy to sway to a radical cause now that there parents were being sentenced to prison, often without anything even resembling due process.
Dumbledore tipped his head to the side, as though he knew exactly why she had asked the question. "That," he said, with something like warning in his voice, "Is for Severus to tell."
Lavinia's eyebrows flicked higher at the old man's tone, but she let it slide, realizing he was probably right. It wasn't her place to pry and besides, she wasn't even sure Severus would want to see her after how poorly she'd treated him last time they'd spoken, nevermind share personal information about why he'd switched sides in the war.
"He will likely be in the Potion Master's office at this time of day. He usually eats late," Dumbledore informed her, resuming his light tone from earlier. Then, before Lavinia could so much as thank him for the information, he walked serenely past her, a bland smile on his face as he waved vaguely to a portrait on the wall that blushed and snapped open her painted fan.
Lavinia turned and stared after him for a moment, wondering at the strange old man who seemed so much... lighter that the last time she'd seen him. So much younger. But then, last time she'd seen him hadn't exactly been the best of times for either of them so perhaps it made sense. Perhaps Dumbledore hadn't really cared very deeply for any of the people they had lost. Or, she added, forcing herself to be reasonable, perhaps Dumbledore had simply learned how to move on more easily by this point in his long life.
So Lavinia shrugged slightly, making a point to roll her eyes at the still blushing portrait, and headed for the nearest set of stairs, descending towards the dungeons as she had so very many times before.
As she went, she passed students heading up to the Great Hall, almost all of whom stared at her as she walked past, no doubt unused to strange adults in these corridors. She didn't acknowledge them, instead just doing her best to keep her head high and remind herself that she was not here for school. That these stares were not like the ones she had endured in those awful last months of her time here. That she never had to walk these halls if she didn't want to. That she could leave. Had already left. And never had to come back.
Her jaw was clenched hard enough that it ached slightly by the time she reached the deserted corridors by the potions classroom and office. The door to the dungeon office reserved for the Hogwarts potions professor was closed when Lavinia reached it, so she knocked, feeling nerves building mercilessly in her throat, combining with the tightness already present from spending time in these too familiar halls.
"Office hours ended over three hours ago," came a slightly drawling voice from inside. "I don't listen to students sniveling outside of those times."
Lavinia blinked, frowning at the rather impatient and rude tone of the words. "Um," she hummed, unsure of herself and trying to decide whether or not she was offended on behalf of the students he had intended to aim those remarks at. "I'm not here for... office hours."
Silence. Utter silence greeted her words and Lavinia wondered if perhaps Severus had recognized her voice and decided he most definitely didn't want to speak to her. Or if he would like to throw those awful words she'd said right back in her face.
I don't want to talk to you.
But after a few minutes, the door opened and Lavinia was standing face to face with her old school mate.
There was a long pause during which they simply stared at each other, black eyes on blue, like two polar opposites divided by the threshold between them, Lavinia blonde haired and pale with her white blouse and pale jeans and Severus, his dark hair a bit greasy and his flowing black robes spotless. Like night and day. It seemed odd to think that they'd once had so much in common.
And right now, the main thing they had left of that was that both were remembering the last time they'd locked eyes. Remembering, and deciding if this was going to a repeat. Or if they might try something different. And this time, it was Lavinia who broke the silence, if only to stop the guilt that curled tighter in her stomach with every passing breath.
"I came to say I'm sorry," she explained in a bit of a rush, wincing slightly at how similar the words sounded to those he had started with two months ago. But she ploughed on nonetheless. "I understand if you don't want to hear it, I just... I was awful. And I know it. And... and I'm sorry."
More silence. Lavinia felt herself deflate slightly, like some balloon inside of her had been popped. Indeed, she had already opened her mouth, ready to just say goodbye and leave altogether, when he spoke.
"Come in," was all he said, pushing the door wide and motioning for her to enter.
Lavinia closed her mouth, staring at him and blinking slowly. He raised his eyebrows slightly and she merely shook her head and entered the office.
The room was... very him. The lighting was dim, the air the usual damp of these dungeon corridors, reminding her of all the frustrations of living in what was functionally a cellar. The walls were covered in shelves with jars of various floating and preserved things and to an outside eye it probably would have looked like a complete mess. But Lavinia could guess that the scribbled little notes on those jars were some sort of shorthand that Severus could read and that he knew exactly where everything he needed was. The desk was slightly more organized with an inkwell and quill in the corner and a few jars along one side. But parchment rolls were scattered all across it, like they'd been staked and had at some point tumbled down, with one open in front of the chair. An essay, she realized. And she must have interrupted his grading.
"I didn't expect you," Severus informed her, his tone blank, and Lavinia honestly couldn't tell whether or not it was an apology for the mess on his desk or just an observation.
"I know," she replied, rather awkwardly, wondering where, exactly, this was going. She hadn't actually thought much past getting here and saying those words that had been pressing at her for the past two months and now... well. Awkward felt like a pretty good description.
Lavinia watched cautiously as Severus rounded the desk and sat in his chair, rolling up the essay he'd been grading and pushing it to the side. Lavinia was struck suddenly by the sensation that she was a student about to be reprimanded for some wrongdoing as Severus watched her with those unreadable dark eyes.
"I really am sorry," she repeated, a guilty frown creasing her brow, wishing he would say something. Wishing he would forgive her, even though she knew she didn't deserve it.
But Severus nodded and sighed slightly. "I know," he replied. "I... well. I showed up out of the blue with no warning at all. I should have expected as much."
Lavinia shook her head and gave a forced little smile. "I was still awful," she pointed out.
Severus shrugged again and silence fell once more. Lavinia pulled habitually at her sleeves, wondering again where the hell this was going or if she should just make up an excuse to leave.
"So," Severus said after a moment, interrupting Lavinia's perusal of believable reasons to rush out and end this awkward encounter. "I hear you're a healer."
Lavinia nodded, watching him carefully, still not sure if he expected a response.
He smiled slightly. "Helping people suits you," he murmured and she saw it for what it was. He was throwing her a bone. A compliment to ease this encounter. An attempt at the kind of normal they hadn't had since their fifth year at school.
Lavinia wasn't stupid enough to throw away this chance, one she would probably never get again. So she smiled right back. "And you're a professor," she observed, then frowned. "I would never have pegged you for the teaching type."
Severus snorted, a sound that made something loosen a bit in Lavinia's chest. She remembered that sound. Hadn't forgotten it, even after so many years. "No," he agreed, his tone musing. "Children aren't really my thing."
Lavinia raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. "So why did you agree to work here?" she asked. The Severus she knew was ambitious. And brilliant. Surely he could do better than teaching. Surely he wanted to do better than teaching.
Severus looked up at her then, a frank expression on his face. "Because Dumbledore is willing to overlook my history. And others will not. Unlike so many of my former companions, I have no family fortune to fall back on."
Lavinia felt her lips part as a little "Oh" escaped her. She'd never thought of that. Of course, Severus had been under suspicion in those months after the Dark Lord's fall and cleared or not, she supposed plenty of people would want nothing more than to distance themselves from anyone even suspected of such activities. Which explained part of why he sounded so sour about a student trying to reach him outside of his designated hours. Because she could guess that this was far from Severus's first choice in jobs. Brilliant potioneer as he was, Lavinia was certain he could have ended up at the leading edge of the field rather than teaching first years. But with nothing else available... a job he merely tolerated was undoubtedly better than no job at all.
Something like pity curled in Lavinia, an understanding of the bitter tone she'd heard in his voice, the resentment she now understood wasn't aimed at students, but at life. At this world that would not forgive him for past sins.
But, deciding it would be best not to harp on any of that, Lavinia merely smiled slightly. "So tell me," she asked, shifting the focus of the conversation, "Are the first years as annoying as I remember."
Severus snorted again and rolled his eyes, but launched into a stream of stories about the various mistakes and explosions that had occurred in his classroom in the past year alone. Lavinia listened to him talk, listened to his exasperation and annoyance and amusement at various mishaps. And as she did, she realized something.
Severus Snape as he was now was not the same boy Lavinia had known. He was not the boy she'd had a crush on or the one she had fiercely protected. He wasn't even the boy she'd watched hand himself willingly to the Dark Lord. This man was bitter with his lot in life. He was angry at what the world had given him and had learned to find amusement in what little places he could get it, cruel though those places sometimes were. He was sarcastic and somewhat mysterious. And yet... parts of him were the same. The mess on his desk, the laugh, the way those dark eyes glittered in mirth. The same but... older. More mature. He had grown. Both for better and worse.
But then, Lainia reminded herself, they all had. She certainly had. And at least in the end Severus had done the right thing. At least had had helped Dumbledore, though how, she did not know. And it was only as Lavinia was preparing to leave that she worked up the courage to ask.
Once the words were out of her mouth, Lavinia wondered if she shouldn't have because Severus just looked at her for a long moment, weighing, assessing, anger and guilt and suspicion swirling in those dark eyes.
"I was his spy," he said eventually and the words were flat, tired. Lavinia could guess why too. Dumbledore's spy. Which meant he would have sold out his oldest friends, would have given them up to the Order for... for what? But then she remembered the words he had spoken when he'd showed up to her door.
I thought it might be nice to talk to someone who misses her too.
Lily. The Dark Lord had threatened Lily and Severus... Severus had sold his soul to Dumbledore in exchange for his help, for the protection he alone could offer the one person Severus had ever loved. Even after all these years. Even after she'd stopped talking to him, even after she'd married his worst enemy. It had not stopped him from loving her, from wanting to help her, even if Lily Evans, Lily Potter, would never know what her old friend had done for her.
So she looked Severus in the eye and said, "I'm sorry." And she hoped he understood what it was for. Not an apology for her own failings, but for the position he'd been in. For the awful choice he'd had to make. And for everything he had risked and sacrificed to do the right thing. Because Lavinia, of all people, knew what that felt like. Knew the cost of picking one side when part of your soul belonged to the other. And she was sorry he'd been in that position, sorry he'd had to make that choice. Even if she was grateful for what his decision had been.
Severus just inclined his head slightly and Lavinia offered a small, slightly tight smile before she departed, her head full of thoughts about how much they'd all changed. About how much they'd all lost. And about those few things that were so strangely, starkly the same. Things that hadn't changed despite everything, despite a war and a world turned upside down. Things that had persisted in the midst of pain and grief and hell.
And Lavinia realized that she'd been so absorbed in her own grief for months now that she hadn't really noticed that other people had been hurting too. Other people had lost things. And other people had accepted that. Had moved on. And managed to keep some part of the self they had been before it all went to hell.
So maybe... Maybe she could move on too. And maybe she could keep some pieces of her heart, of her soul. Maybe she didn't have to start over.
A/N: So I had what I would consider a prime College Moment (TM) today in my Criminal Justice course. We were just chatting about the syllabus cause, you know, first day of class is mostly intro and besides, no one know wtf is happening this semester in particular and my prof was just like, "so fun fact, I love colors and coloring" and everyone was like that's chill, cool story. And my prof then continued with "I have some coloring bookmarks y'all can print out for free do you want them?" And there were a few yeahs and sures and then she goes "Also I have some Lizzo bookmarks, do you want those?" And suddenly the chat feature is exploding with "I LOVE LIZZO" comments and my prof got super excited and we talked about Lizzo for like 10 minutes in the middle of class and decided we need a virtual Lizzo dance party before the prof was like, "yo we should really focus" and everyone wound down. And then, not five minutes later, we got distracted again bc my prof mentioned she had a puppy and there was a mutual agreement that we all needed to meet the puppy. Who is adorable, btw. So that's basically how that class went and it is so true to the college experience lol.
On the other side of the college experience, I spent like 3 hrs on Orgo homework and and I only got about half way through. The stupid Mastering still says I have 3+ hours left and I just... why.
Also, I did actually write a chapter today. No idea how that happened, but happy birthday I guess, cause y'all get another one tomorrow.
Anyway, as usual, I hope y'all enjoyed and I'll be back again tomorrow!