—————S—————
November 3, 1996
"Hey Dad," Aurora said cheerily as she came into his lab.
"Happy birthday, Aurora," he said with a bit too much resignation.
"Thank you," she said, sitting on a stool. He stared at her, trying to decipher why she was so cheerful.
It might have been that Longbottom finally got the nerve to ask her to court. It had been an amusing afternoon when the young man came knocking on his office door. Even more so when he'd asked for Hermione first, going deathly pale when he was informed she was unavailable. But he did have to give the boy credit. He actually didn't run the words together this time, unlike when he'd asked Aurora to the Yule Ball.
But the boy had requested permission months ago, practically at the start of term. Severus had kept Longbottom's request to himself and Hermione, not wanting Aurora to feel like she had to encourage or gently let the boy down before he got the nerve to ask.
"You're in a pleasant mood," he noted.
"Am I not allowed to be? Is there a rule that says one must always be sullen at sixteen?"
"Watch the cheek. And no, I just find you uncharacteristically cheerful given the time of day."
"I passed out on my bed just after nine o'clock and slept until about forty minutes ago," she replied and seeing as how it was just after nine-thirty in the morning, Severus could understand his daughter's pertness. "Apparently, Quidditch is good for insomnia."
"Is it? I'll keep that in mind. May I have your hand, please?" he said, extending his own right hand.
"Sure, what do you need my—ow! Dad, what the bloody hell was that for?"
He smirked as he levitated the droplet of blood from her finger and brought it over to the potion sitting on his work bench. The potion that very quickly wiped the smirk off his face and he had to force himself to not cringe when thinking about Aurora consuming it.
A contraceptive potion.
Hermione's allergy to the standard was something they had easily worked around. The charm, while not as effective, was a good enough replacement when cast properly. And it had done the job and kept them child-free for the time they'd wanted. But whether or not Aurora had inherited her mother's allergy to the potion was something he'd been putting off testing for what might have been too long. He could have, perhaps, kidded himself into believing that she was still too young. He'd nearly done it when she and Fred Weasley spent three months together, figuring if they had lasted that long, then the prankster was serious in his affections for Aurora. He let it slip his mind when their break-up happened, and barely allowed it a passing thought when Longbottom sought his permission.
But then Minerva complained over breakfast about needing to deduct fifty points from her own house for catching Weasley and Miss Brown in a compromising position. She also requested that he cover their detentions. And while the prospect of doing so gave him some cheer, a long list of disgusting or laboring tasks coming to mind to punish them with, the reality that a friend of his daughter was engaging in such an activity meant that there was a distinct possibility that she might do the same thing. Be it with Longbottom or someone else, he didn't want to know, but the reality was she was the age he and Hermione were when they first had done it.
He watched the drop of blood hit the potion and waited for the adverse reaction.
Nothing happened.
It was both a relief and disappointment.
"Dad?" Aurora asked, and he looked up at her.
"You don't have the allergy your mother does," he said, turning around and retrieving six more bottles of the contraceptive. "Take the first the next time you start your menses, and a new one every two months afterward."
Aurora frowned as she took the bottles from him, then really looked at them. Her eyes widened. "Dad, I, what? Why? Why are you... I'm not even ready."
"Good," he said. "It's what every father wants to hear, just short of hearing that you want to join a nunnery. But the fact of the matter is, you're at the age in which sexual intercourse becomes much more common, and while I would prefer to believe you would never do such a thing, I'm also not an idiot. Take the potion, Rory. Even if you have no one now, there'll come a time when you will, and you'll be ready. And don't share it with anyone else."
"Yeah. Pretty sure the idea of asking Professor Snape's daughter for contraceptive potions is something no one would ever do."
"And where do you think Aunt Poppy gets them?"
"For everyone else, it's a matter of plausible deniability. They think Aunt Poppy brews them, or buys them from St. Mungo's, or they magically appear in the infirmary to be available upon request, should the typical dunderhead not realize fifth year potion's kit has everything they need to brew it." When she stopped for breath, and he stared at her, Aurora shrugged. "My friends aren't dunderheads, and I'm fairly certain Ginny's already brewed her first dose. And Luna might have mentioned someone in Ravenclaw doing the same."
"At least it's Miss Weasley and not her brother," he grumbled. "I at least can have some confidence in her brewing skill."
"She's dating Uncle Ollie," Aurora blurted.
"Aurora, it's far too early for teenage gossip," he said, waving her away so he could, perhaps, sneak back into his rooms and nurse a whiskey before lunch.
"It's family gossip," she retorted, placing five of the small vials down on the counter and uncorking the sixth.
"Then go tell your mother," Severus retorted before frowning. "What are you doing?"
"You said take it the first day of—"
He held up his hand. "Aurora..." he said in a warning tone.
She smirked, then swigged it back. "It's best to do this in front of you regardless of the test. Maybe something else causes the reactions."
He gave her a half smile for thinking clearly, watching his daughter, his beautiful, smart, vibrant daughter as she waited for the potion to kick in. "It's disgustingly sweet," she said conversationally.
"So I've been told," he agreed.
"Well," she said after about a minute. "I think it's safe to say I am, in fact, allergy-free."
"So you are," he conceded.
"I'll see you and Mum later, then?"
"You and your entourage should be in our chambers by five o'clock. Anyone late won't be admitted."
She smirked, then surprised him by coming to his side and kissing his cheek. "Later, Daddy," she said, collecting her potions and leaving.
Daddy. Oh, he must have looked positively miserable for her to have used that title. With a heavy sigh, Severus headed back to his rooms, a firewhisky or two calling his name, as he knew there was much more to prepare for than merely an evening with his daughter and her friends.
—————H—————
"Alastor," Hermione greeted the one-eyed wizard, and he smiled at her.
"H.," he said, hobbling past her. "How's Hogwarts?"
"Limiting," she replied, following him into the sitting area. "Albus wants me to teach, of course, but it's pretty much just becoming a review of the last couple years. He doesn't seem to understand that they need to learn, regardless of who is doing the teaching."
"How're Potter and the rest?" he asked.
"They are, admittedly, above and beyond. But then, they were actually learning, and there are some things Remus taught Harry, that Severus taught him in passing, that Harry has shown the others. You taught us about Patronuses in our fifth year, but it was only really Severus who could almost cast a fully corporeal one. He's powerful, so I suppose that isn't too much of a surprise. But Alastor, all of these kids can produce a Patronus. All of them. They faced Death Eaters at the Ministry and they survived. They need more advanced lessons, but Albus won't let me. Or Severus. Or bloody anyone, though he has been giving Harry special lessons."
"We know what they are?" Alastor asked as they entered the sitting area.
"Why, our esteemed leader is teaching my sixteen-year-old all about Tom Riddle," Sirius said as he leaned back on the sofa, the space between him and Severus empty as they enjoyed some of the latter's whiskey. "Harry wrote to me about it. Everything about Riddle's history, starting from what Dumbledore knew of his life prior to Hogwarts." He sipped his whiskey. "I'm not sure if he's trying to get Harry to understand him or sympathize with him."
Severus scoffed. "He still believes Lily's love protected him all this time. I'll concede that Lily's final act was quite likely a shielding spell strong enough to guard against even the Killing Curse. She died for Harry to protect him. Or it could have been something as simple as wards on the crib. Runes carved on it that we never saw. Hagrid was the one who got to him, and frankly, without Harry there, I wouldn't have thought to look at it."
"What's left of the house now?" Sirius asked.
"The house is ash," Remus said from the kitchenette, fixing himself a cup of tea. "I went there not long after you'd gone to Azkaban. The place is dust, nothing but the shell of the first floor left."
Severus frowned. "So, someone set it on fire after I left."
"I suppose someone did," Hermione said as she sat down between her husband and their friend, Alastor taking the chair, leaving the loveseat for Remus and the delayed Minerva.
"Could've been anyone." Alastor waved it off. "Anyone at any time. A regular witch or wizard trying to burn the place Riddle bit the dust or a Death Eater trying to bring back their Lord."
Minerva appeared through the fireplace then, dusting herself off. She glanced at the men just as Remus came over to hand Moody a tumbler of whiskey before taking a seat.
"Have I already missed the important discussions?" she asked, gesturing to the liquor. "Or is Severus mourning?"
"What you lose?" Alastor asked.
"The ability to believe my daughter is young and innocent," he replied, leaning his head back. "She can take contraceptive potion."
"Own fault on that one, ain't it?" Alastor smirked.
Severus lifted his head. "Better to know she's taking that than find out she's been impregnated by some dunderhead."
"At least that's one thing I've never had to worry about." Sirius smiled.
"Harry could still—" Remus started.
"Harry's with Draco," Sirius cut him off. "And I would bet my house that if those two make it through the war, they're going to spend the rest of their lives together."
"What did you want to talk about, Severus?" Minerva asked, taking a seat next to Remus and cutting off any argument they may have had.
"A few things, actually," he said, leaning forward to set his whiskey down on the coffee table, steepling his hands between his knees. "We're facing what will probably be one of the most dangerous undertakings Albus has concocted yet: his own death. The fact that we were able to counter Miss Bell's curse leads me to think that, with time and research, we could do the same for Albus. However, I don't think he would allow it."
"He hasn't said anything 'bout it yet," Alastor replied. "Makes me think he wants to die."
"Which seems a bit odd since he wanted so desperately to become the Master of Death once," Severus replied, and Hermione was certain she wasn't the only one in the room looking at him in confusion or disbelief. "He and Grindelwald were partners, or has he made everyone conveniently forget that he was once a rising Dark Lord himself?"
"I remember," Alastor said.
"I never knew," Remus said.
Sirius whistled. "Neither did I. I thought he defeated Grindelwald."
"He did," Hermione replied. "In 1945, Dumbledore finally confronted Grindelwald. Dumbledore won the duel and imprisoned him. But it was only because of Dumbledore's sister's death, Ariana, that he turned completely against Grindelwald. Before then, the two were reported to have... well, to have acted like a pair of Death Eaters. Muggle-baiting, torture, believing that witches and wizards were superior over non-magical beings, and that the Statute of Secrecy needed to be eliminated, and a hierarchy be put in place for... for the greater good."
"They were also obsessed with wizarding lore, namely the Deathly Hallows. They believed possessing all three items would make them the Master of Death," Severus added.
"Okay, let's put aside the Hallows for now," Remus said, shaking his head and pinching his nose. "You're saying that Albus Dumbledore was once a man who wanted precisely what the Dark Lord is trying to achieve now? And we're all following him..."
"Like puppy dogs?" Severus said, eyebrow twitching. "Why yes, I believe most of the Order is."
"We'll get back ta Dumbledore's intentions another time," Alastor said. "He don't want us knowing he's going to bite it, let alone help, so what's on yer mind, Snape?"
"How much danger we're all in," he said bluntly, and Hermione reached over and placed her hand on his knee. "The fact that he refuses to tell the Order means he expects one of two things: that either I will die very shortly after his demise, because he thinks everyone will believe I was truly working for the Dark Lord after all and go for my head. Or the Order will splinter, and I'm willing to bet he believes that if that happens, the side that will believe me guilty will have the greater numbers."
"That's your neck on the line," Remus said. "What about ours?"
"Hermione's his wife," Minerva said. "She'd be considered a traitor by association."
"And if this execution has an audience, there will be no one from the light willing to let me and mine walk away unscathed. Even faking ignorance as I walk out with a bunch of Death Eaters, could be risky. You'll either be thought a traitor like your dear friend Peter, or you blow my cover, in which case you'll fail to receive valuable information."
"So, what're ya suggesting?" Alastor asked.
"Liquid Luck," Severus replied. "Just enough to get us through that night, and also a small vial for each of the children for their own protection."
"All right." Alastor nodded. "Suppose that could help. But still don't see how all of us need it, not just you and the missus."
"Because I believe there will be an audience and that Dumbledore will ask you all there to witness me turning sides. I want to propose a plan, but it has risks. And, of course, requires a lot of misdirection, especially for Order members who don't know the truth, and shouldn't until after Dumbledore's death."
"Why not let the others know now?" Minerva asked.
"Do you really believe Molly will be able to keep her opinion to herself?" Sirius asked, not unkindly. "She would go nearly blue when Harry or Ron would mention Hermione once it was discovered that H. is Hermione. She doesn't like the idea that her youngest children have been preparing for war and that they've been vocal about learning things no fifteen or sixteen-year-old should know, and let's not even get into her opinion on how we are raising our own teenagers. If she knew the truth about Dumbledore, she'd have something to say about it. If she knew the plan for him, she would have a conniption."
"Well that's Molly, but I always thought Arthur wise enough to understand the nuances."
"Perhaps, but he ain't really stealthy. Got too many tells, that one," Alastor announced.
"Kingsley would keep quiet, but he'd also have a hard time simply letting Albus pass on," Sirius conceded.
"And how would you know how Kingsley would take it?" Remus asked.
"I suppose that depends," Sirius retorted. "Can you say how Tonks would react?"
"Yes," Remus said, his tone suggesting he was ready to argue his point.
"Precisely."
There was a knock on the office doors, and everyone looked at one another.
"I suppose that means time's up," Hermione mused, glancing at the clock on the mantel as Severus rose to answer the door. "It's nearly time for the children to show up, and that's probably one of them now."
"I ain't staying for a party," Alastor said as he got up.
"Oh, Al, lighten up. You sat through Hermione's sixteenth," Minerva chided as she stood.
Alastor hesitated. "Who all?"
"Harry, Draco, the Weasley children, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom."
"Longbottom?" he said, mulling it over. "Suppose I can get a good look at the kid."
"Good, because once they're all occupied, I wanted to talk to you about a plan I had for a Defense lesson."
—————A—————
"Are you ready to head down?" Aurora asked Neville, who startled quite badly at her question. He quickly closed his Herbology book, grimacing when the parchment filled with notes stuck between the pages. "I might know a spell that'll remove the ink," she said. "My dad taught me."
"Really? Won't it... won't it remove all the ink?" Neville asked, glancing at the book apprehensively.
"No, you just need to specify the color. Our inkwells are filled with black, the texts are usually written in either dark blue, gray, or green." She shrugged. "You should see how often Mum has to remove things from her books. It's quite amusing, really, when you consider that my father writes notes in margins and she loathes pages being written on. Well, except that one book."
"One book?" Neville asked, standing, heading toward the common room door with her. Most of the Gryffindors were out in the Great Hall or socializing. She hadn't seen Harry at all that day, and Ginny had gone to get Luna just before Aurora found Neville.
"Yeah," Aurora said as they stepped out. "Mum says it's the most romantic gift she's ever gotten from him, and it's from before they even had their first date. A copy of Jane Eyre , with Dad's commentary all throughout. She still has it, with all the little herbs and flowers he stuffed in it."
"What made it so romantic?" Neville asked as they slowly ventured down the stairs, his hands stuffed in his pockets as Aurora rested her hand on the banister.
"Well, I think it was the fact that he underlined a passage that resonated with him. And it was during the proposal scene. I'm not sure, really. I suppose I don't quite share their idea of romance."
"And, uh, wh-what is your idea? Of romance, I mean?" he asked, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "I mean, the box Fred made..."
"And ended up selling," she reminded him. "Though, to his credit, I did say he could. And it isn't identical to the one he made me," she sighed, pondering. "I'm not sure. One would think that my parents are the prime example: friends who fell for one another, stayed together through what would have torn many apart. They had faith in one another, that they would always be together. And they have, they've weathered so many storms. And it's wonderful, but... I don't know."
"Well that's helpful," Neville mumbled, and Aurora glanced at him, wondering if he realized she'd heard him. "So, get any mail today?" he asked after the silence lingered too long, and Aurora watched as Neville's face twisted in agony and his hand nearly rose to palm his disheartened expression.
"I did," she said, smiling in an effort not to laugh. "Molly Weasley sent me a somewhat stilted letter of best wishes, though it seemed quite... cold. Not entirely sure I understand that one. My various grandmothers all sent me Galleons because the Granger one doesn't know me as well as she'd like, the Prince one knows that if she could have given my father money at any time to spend how he liked, she would have, and the McGonagall-Wood one is never certain what my taste in clothing is. The twins sent me a card and some Instant Darkness Powder. And jelly slugs, I do love Jelly slugs. Conveniently with all the yellow ones taken out, I'm really not a fan of those."
"So... yes," Neville said.
"Well, I saw how much you regretted the question the moment it left your mouth, so I figured I would answer it in detail to make you feel somewhat less silly."
Neville chuckled, and Aurora was quite pleased with herself.
"I've been meaning to ask you," he started, "if perhaps... if maybe the next Hogsmeade visit, you'd like to go just the two of us. I mean, just us... and you know it's meant to be just us this time."
"I'd like that," she said as they headed into the dungeons.
"Really!?" Neville's voice pitched and echoed off the stone corridor.
"Yeah," Aurora replied. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I have a long list of reasons why I figured you'd say no, but I'm not sure I should be getting into them and turn my luck," he said, and Aurora chuckled as they came to her father's office door.
"I doubt any of them could change my mind. Unless, of course, one of them was that you actually didn't get my parent's permission. In which case, I have to decline to appease them."
He didn't seem nervous about the prospect, so Aurora assumed that Neville had, in fact, braved her father once more in order to get his blessing. Or cheated and asked her mother.
She didn't knock as she headed into her parents' rooms, simply opening the door that appeared for her and walking through, making sure Neville was following so they wouldn't shut him out.
She was a bit surprised to find Draco and Harry already there, but more so by the abundance of adults she hadn't counted on.
"Happy birthday, Uncle Sirius," she said as she went over and sat on the sofa beside him.
"Happy birthday, Rory," he returned.
"Any particular reason why you're here?" she asked, seeing not-Professor Moody speaking with Harry, Draco chatting with Professor Lupin.
"Just a few things your father wanted to chat with us about, nothing in particular." He shrugged. "And your mother had an idea she wanted to run by a few of us."
"Bloody hell," Ron's voice cut through the haze of chatter, and everyone looked at him as he, Ginny, and Luna came through the door, held open by Aurora's mother. "I'm in a teachers' chambers."
"I see your powers of observation haven't changed throughout the years," Hermione said, but Ron merely continued to move forward. "If you were expecting coffins, I'm sorry to disappoint."
"I think he was just expecting it to be darker, more dungeon-y," Ginny teased.
"More books than the library in here!" Ron nearly shouted.
"Haven't spent much time in the library studying, have you, Weasel?" Draco snorted.
"Yes," Aurora heard her dad say. "We heard of your escapades from the previous night." He quirked a brow, making Ron blush.
"Can we please pretend that we aren't at Hogwarts, and that my friends and I are not in a room filled with three current professors, and two past ones."
"Three, actually." Uncle Sirius smirked. "I was a sort of pseudo professor for a year. Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"So... everyone over the age of seventeen in this room has been a professor here," Ginny said, looking around the room.
"Except for Moody," Harry noted.
"Nope, taught yer parents back in the seventies," he said. "Was just before I lost my eye and leg."
"Perhaps we should heed Aurora's request," Hermione said, and Aurora sighed with relief. "But first, before the food—"
"Oh," Ron grumbled.
Ginny gaped at him. "We found you in the Great Hall stuffing food in your face."
"Yeah, well." Ron shrugged. "Didn't eat as much as I usually do, knowing we were coming here."
"Anyway," Aurora's mother continued, glaring at Ron before turning back to her with a smile. "We wanted to give you something, poppet." Aurora watched as her mother looked at her father, and he withdrew a small box from his robes, handing it to Aurora. "When I turned sixteen, I was informed by my foster parents that it was traditional to give a ring," she said as Aurora opened the box and revealed an oval citrine set in a silver ring.
"It's lovely," Aurora said, removing it from the box and slipping it onto her right hand.
"It's also enhanced with protective measures," her father said. "One being a link to Draco."
"Me?" Draco asked, confused.
"Yes. You have a ring from your mother that lets her go to you. Your aunt and I can do the same with Aurora, but should she need to escape a dangerous situation, it'll send her to you. It's never certain where we'll be, and who we may be pretending to be. But you're not playing a part, you've chosen a side, the same one as her. If she's in danger, and you're not with her, then it's less likely that porting to you will make her situation worse. And your mother has given us permission to add the same charm to yours, so that you may go to Aurora's side if needed."
Draco nodded, both in ascent and understanding, rising from his spot to approach his uncle.
"Do you really think it's going to be that bad?" Harry asked apprehensively. "Enough that Rory would actually be safer going to one of us than either of you?"
Aurora watched her parents exchange wary looks and also with the other adults, who all seemed to share the same trepidation.
"If all goes as planned," Professor Lupin said slowly, "it'll never be more dangerous for any of you."
November 10, 1996
"Aurora," Neville said softly, nervously, and she looked up from her Transfiguration notes to meet his timid gaze. "Are... are you... you're busy, I'll just..."
"It's advanced notes," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "Career counseling may not come around until May, but Professor McGonagall is also my aunt, so she's trying to convince me to follow in her footsteps. She knows I haven't decided yet."
"Yeah." Neville grinned, and then seemed to realize why he was there in the first place. It dropped, and his nerves came back in full force. "So, you're free then?"
"Sure," she said, waving her hand over her notes and tidying them up.
Neville gaped. "You can do wandless magic?"
"We all can if we put our mind to it," she said, picking the books up and putting them inside her bag. "Our wands are merely a tool, a way to channel our magic." She withdrew her wand and sent her bag back to the dorms. She smiled cheekily. "And tidying is pretty much the only wandless thing I can do intentionally."
He laughed nervously, stuffing his hands in his pockets and stepped back a bit to give Aurora space for her to move around the sofa. "So, where are we going?"
"Well, er..." He stiffened and lifted his chin. "Come with me."
"'Kay." She smiled, following him as he led her out of the portrait hole.
Neville helped her through, then led her down the stairs to the ground level of the castle. The further away from the common room they went, the more Aurora frowned, and when he turned to the side door that was a direct path to the greenhouses, Aurora nearly asked what he was up to. Instead, she kept quiet and hoped her father or mother weren't on rounds for the evening.
When they were out in the cool night air, Neville reached into his pocket and withdrew something. Pointing his wand at it, he enlarged a cloak. "Here," he said, blushing as he wrapped it around Aurora's shoulders.
"Thanks," she said, curiously watching as he repeated the processes for himself. "Neville, what are we doing?"
"You'll see," he said, glancing upward and then doing a double take. "We gotta hurry, actually," he said, taking her hand and guiding her quickly along the path to the greenhouses.
Having spent a fair amount of her childhood at Hogwarts, Aurora knew the greenhouses fairly well, including which ones to avoid. Which was why she stopped short when Neville tried to lead her into greenhouse five.
Her halting made her tug on his arm when he kept moving. He turned, looking at her over his shoulder, and a genuine, true, excited smile washed over him, causing a rush of something to zip through her veins. "Come on!" he said, tugging her hand, and she obeyed.
This particular greenhouse wasn't overly humid, merely warmer than outside. The windows weren't frosted, and much of the foliage inside was large enough to block the view of the interior from the outside. And all of them were benign, as far as Aurora could tell. She stopped just inside the doorway, looking around, wondering why this one had always been off limits.
"Is there Devil Snare or anything lurking in a corner I don't know about?"
Neville laughed. "No," he said, waving his wand and dimly lighting some sconces placed few and far between. They brightened the space enough to see, but not so much that it drowned out the night. "Come on, this way," he said, stuffing his wand up his sleeve and retaking her hand, pulling her deeper into the greenhouse.
"Why are we in here? I was always told this wasn't a safe place."
"It's the apprentice greenhouse," Neville explained, and she hummed in understanding. "Remember the plant I was telling you about?"
"Yeah?" she said, and he stopped in front of a fairly large plant box with a single, closed, white-petaled flower inside.
"It's going to bloom tonight," he said, and as he said it, the petals slowly began to move. "I was actually aiming for your birthday, but... got it a week off. Then again, it's not like... not like I could change the moon cycles, and that's ... that's what's needed for it. New moon and all."
"Oh," she said, watching as each iridescent petal began to curl outward.
"I had this whole plan," Neville continued, his focus on the flower while his thumb lightly brushed the edge of her hand. "I was hoping it would have bloomed for your birthday and I would bring you out here and show it to you. Originally, I was going to repot it for you, but the more I read up on it, the more I found out they don't like to be moved. So, I actually started to grow another, too, but that won't be ready until the Christmas hols. And I couldn't wait that long, because ... well, I'd already put off asking you to... er... your dad called it court."
Aurora turned away from the large flower to look at Neville, who was nervously looking at his shoes. He looked up and met her eyes.
"I've had a crush on you for a really long time," he said.
"I know," she confessed.
"Oh," he said, surprised, then, more sadly. "Oh."
"Is that okay? That I knew? I mean, I didn't want anything to be different between us..."
"Yeah, suppose that's evident," he said mirthlessly.
"But that's not to say that I wouldn't want to ... court you."
"But if you knew... and you didn't—"
She put a finger on his lips to quiet him, and the surprise of it made him turn quite visibly red, even in the low light of the greenhouse.
"I knew and I didn't want things to change because, well... you're my friend. One of my best friends, and we have so many friends in common that I worry... And there was Fred, and I liked him, I do— did , and..." she sighed, taking her finger away and resting her hand on his shoulder. "Now I'm mucking this up."
"Think I mucked up first," he sighed. "I should have just left things as they were."
"No," she said, shaking her head.
"Yeah, I think I really—"
He stopped talking when she gently tugged on his shoulder, pulling him to her. And when he stiffened and wouldn't move, Aurora brought herself closer. She paused, studying his face, seeing the nervous anticipation in his eyes, felt the pounding of his pulse against her thumb where it rested on his neck. Aurora wasn't sure he'd breathed since she moved, and she smiled before closing the space between them and gently pressed her lips to his. He didn't reciprocate, but she knew better than to think it anything other than shock. So, she kissed him again and felt his hand touch her back briefly once, twice, then finally settle between her shoulder blades. He put his hand on her waist just as she moved her lips away, and this time he was the one who began the next kiss.
Aurora's other hand found its way into Neville's hair, and he breathed deeply through his nose, pulling back so quickly there was actually a smack at the end of the kiss, making Aurora giggle.
He did too, his smile so elated that it made her heart swell.
"Sorry," he said, blushing. "Just... it was... I didn't expect that when I brought you out here."
"Am I moving too fast for you, do I need to slow down?" she teased.
"NO!" he yelled, cracking his voice, making her laugh harder as he blushed and groaned. Neville bowed his head, his forehead touching hers. "Merlin, can I please stop embarrassing myself in front of the girl I like. Please?"
"Still just the girl you like, then? Not your girlfriend?"
He reared back. "You are now, aren't you? Right?"
"I'd like to see if it fits," she said, feeling her own cheeks redden. "I do like you, Neville. I wouldn't have gone to the ball with you if I didn't. Or to Hogsmeade. And I want to do that again, hopefully without finding one of our housemates in the process of being cursed next time. And I would like to know it's a date going in."
"Yeah," he said with a breathless laugh. "Yeah, probably better when we both know, right?"
Aurora nodded, glancing at the moonflower in full bloom. "My Muggle grandmother has a couple of those. The non-magical version. They're a lot smaller and grow on vines."
"They're distant cousins of each other, actually," Neville said. "It's said that the Muggle versions actually originated from ours. Sort of like a Squib, born without magic, so they're smaller and don't shimmer like these do. But they kept the night-blooming characteristics, and apparently also have a much more powerful scent, and... I'm going to stop talking about plants and maybe kiss you again, if that's all right?"
Aurora giggled. "Yes, I think that might be all right."
"Okay, good," he said leaning in and kissing her, surprisingly adept for someone who had never kissed anyone before. After a few minutes, he paused and asked, "How am I doing? Is this okay?"
"You're doing fine," she assured him, giving him a quick peck.
"Really? Because, if you want me to try to snog like Ron was—"
She chuckled. "Please don't."
"Okay," he chuckled, then resumed his very sweet but confident kiss.
—————S—————
"I think it's sweet," Pomona said, and her arm physically barring Severus from storming over to Longbottom and ripping him away from his daughter.
They'd been doing rounds together, and when she noticed the light in the greenhouse, Pomona had asked if he wanted to see what Longbottom had been cultivating. He didn't expect to find him with his hands and mouth on Aurora.
The moment they spotted the teenagers talking to one another in front of the admittedly brilliant-looking moonflower, the Head of Hufflepuff had immediately put up a silencing charm around them and locked his feet to the ground. By the time Severus had countered her jinx, Longbottom was leaning in, making his move.
"I know I gave the boy my blessing, but I didn't think he'd actually go through with it."
"Well, Aurora looks happy, doesn't she?" Pomona asked, a romantic sigh lacing each word of the sentence. "A much better match than Mr. Fred Weasley."
He turned to his colleague and scowled. "You're playing favorites."
"And you're not?" she countered.
"I dislike the idea of any of the miscreants running around the castle being anywhere near her, except her brother and Mr. Malfoy."
"And Mr. Potter," Pomona added.
He grumbled a slight agreement but wouldn't say more than that.
The teenagers parted, and with Aurora's hand in his, Longbottom led her out the other door.
Severus spun and quickly followed them out, stalking them a short way and not quite catching up to them when he heard Hagrid bellow a greeting at them, then offer to lead them back to the castle. An offer the teenagers warmly accepted, Aurora parting from Longbottom to loop her arm around Hagrid's hand and ask how he'd been.
"They grow up, Severus," Pomona said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You can't always be her protective shadow. Sooner or later, you'll have to let her stand on her own."
Pomona didn't seem to realize the weight of what she'd just said as she continued up the path to the castle.
But Severus did.
Aurora would be of age in less than a year. And in that time, the war would get worse, and who she decided to kiss in greenhouses would be the last thing Severus would have to worry about.
With a heavy heart and a buzzing mind, Severus slowly returned to the castle, wishing he had a Time-Turner to go back before everything became so dire.