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In Search of a Life	By : devsgma Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 2554 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter Universe, nor am I making any monies from the stories I write

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In Search of a Life

by devsgma

T (PG-13)

AN: Thank you, Lariope, for all your hard work.

Hermione was proving to be a very good brewer, not that Severus would tell her that in so many words, but it had allowed him to take an odd afternoon off now and then that he normally spent with Andrew in the flat above the shop. His child was growing – too quickly in Severus’ opinion – but that didn’t stop the process. It only served to make him greedy for more time with his son.

This particular spring afternoon found the wizard at Spinner’s End. There was adequate room in his childhood home for himself, Andrew and his mother. He wasn’t thinking of proposing marriage by any means, but he needed more room than the flat offered now that he had a son. If he could persuade Hermione to move in with Andrew, it would gain him a great deal more access to Andrew as well.

As he moved from room to room, various memories returned. There were a few that he would classify good, but the greatest majority… weren’t. The land in the back of the house was adequate for the small garden his mother had always planted, but it wasn’t really large enough for his son to play in. He knew that from first hand experience. It was obvious from the condition of the ceilings in the upstairs bedrooms that the roof would need patching at the very least. The windows needed re-glazing, and the carpets – what there were of them – were threadbare. Spinner’s End was drafty, drab and almost a hovel.

Severus heaved a sigh as he locked and warded the door behind him. Glancing up and down the street, he knew there would be no buyers for this house. The other houses around it were empty and had been since the Dark Lord had fallen.

“If the bloody thing is still standing by then, Andrew will be thrilled to inherit it,” he grumbled before moving toward the street.

Returning to the flat he currently called “home,” Severus sat down at his desk with his accounts ledger. It was abundantly clear that he couldn’t afford to buy a different house, but he could probably afford to repair the roof, re-glaze the windows and purchase decent carpets and drapes. “That leaves next to nothing for the furnishings,” he muttered as he closed the book, almost – but not quite – regretting the funds he’d spent to purchase the apothecary.

Remembering the bright, comfortable home Andrew and his mother had enjoyed in Australia, Severus doubted his childhood home would tempt Hermione in the slightest unless he made some major improvements. She was already living rent-free at Grimmauld Place and had the added advantage of having Kreacher there. While he wouldn’t call it exactly cheerful, there was plenty of room, and the park across the street relieved it of any need for a yard.

“Think, man,” he scolded himself. “There has to be a way to earn or acquire enough to buy some proper furniture short of selling your soul to another Dark Lord.”

********

Three days later, after having sent a request for an appointment to see Lucius and having subsequently being invited for tea, Severus found himself outside the gates of Malfoy Manor at the appointed hour. While he wasn’t surprised that the Malfoys would continue to live in the house after all the atrocities that had occurred there during the Dark Lord’s occupation – it was one of their grander homes and Lucius had always been inordinately proud of it – he was surprised at his own reaction to seeing it again. A vision of Charity Burbage being consumed by Nagini sent a chill down his spine before it was shoved firmly to the back of his mind. Severus became aware of his left hand covering the portion of his neck that still carried scars from the brute and hastily removed it. It wouldn’t do to give Lucius any sort of advantage in the coming negotiation.

As he approached the boundary of the property, Severus felt familiar wards caress his skin as the gates slowly, gracefully opened to admit him. The long walk up the drive reminded him of other trips and the fallen “comrades” that had, at times, accompanied him. He was extremely content to be alone on this particular trek.

He stopped as one of the many Malfoy elves appeared in front of him and bowed. “Master is being in the red garden gazebo for tea. If Mister Snape is not knowing the way, Splinter is being able to lead.”

Severus’ eyebrows rose slightly. “Is there more than one gazebo now?”

“Yes, Mister Snape. There is being the yellow garden gazebo, the white garden gazebo and the red garden gazebo. The blue garden is having no gazebo, but Master is promising Mistress that---”

“Just lead me to your infernal Master,” Severus snarled after he rolled his eyes.

Walking past the lush grasses, fragrant flowers and bountiful fruit trees of the various Malfoy gardens, Severus was forcefully reminded of the vast differences between his upbringing and Lucius’ childhood experiences. They served to underline the unbridgeable abyss between what he could offer Andrew and what Lucius had been able to provide for Draco.

Despair almost overwhelmed him at that point as Severus stopped and stared at the opulent surroundings. Spinner’s End would never be an adequate substitution for the home his son had left behind in Australia. He knew that no amount of repairs or refurbishing could turn his pig’s ear of a home into a silken web that would tempt Hermione enough to move away from Grimmauld Place.

“Is Mister Snape wishing to use the lavatory?” Splinter asked.

“What? No,” he replied before once more following the elf. Severus was tempted to turn on his heel and leave, but pride wouldn’t let him. Lucius would probably assume that seeing the grounds where the Dark Lord had ruled had proved to be too much for Severus’ psyche, and he couldn’t allow that.

The red garden gazebo – and Lucius’ platinum hair – finally came within his line of sight. Dismissing the elf, Severus took his time approaching his old “friend” as this was their first meeting outside St. Mungo’s. While Severus wasn’t exactly leery of the other wizard’s reaction, he kept the handle of his wand in the ready position as he approached.

“Severus, old man,” Lucius said as he rose. “I was beginning to think that bloody elf led you to the wrong gazebo.”

More than a slight amount of confusion muddled Severus’ mind for a moment as he took in the likeness of Lucius Malfoy… smiling at him. Severus stopped as the handle of the wand fell into his hand. He had seen Lucius smile on many occasions, but this particular smile wasn’t in the other wizard’s repertoire that he knew of. It held affection and – dare he think it? – happiness in the crinkles around the mouth. Crinkles that Lucius would never have allowed to appear on his face. It was a smile more suited to Dumbledore than a Malfoy.

“Lucius?” Severus cursed himself over the tone of his own voice. It held disbelief and a touch of the insecurity he was feeling. If this was someone using Polyjuice, he’d given away the game before it began.

The imposter – if that’s what he was – gentled the smile into an adequate impression of Lucius’ well-known smirk. “Lucius Malfoy at your service, Severus. I didn’t realize you’d had memory problems during your recovery or I would have properly introduced myself, but you must admit that your request for an appointment was coached in the terms of someone who was already familiar with me.”

“Don’t be a bigger ass than you already are, Lucius,” Severus growled as the wand was returned to its holster. “It was that ruddy great smile that threw me. What did you do, take lessons from Lockhart?” Severus asked as he moved toward the table, grasped the hand Lucius extended in greeting, and chose a seat.

Lucius scowled slightly before saying, “Any other wizard saying those words might be receiving a hex instead of tea.” He fell silent for a moment while a elf served them each a steaming cup of tea. “It’s your own fault, really.” When Severus’ eyebrows rose slightly, Lucius waved the elf away and leaned forward. “It is,” Lucius insisted angrily before he took one of the delicate cakes on the tray and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

The complete lack of any genteel manners had Severus wondering if he’d stowed his wand a little too quickly. “Who are you and what have you done with the Lucius we all know and… love?”

Wiping his mouth with a monogrammed linen napkin, Lucius glared at Severus before taking a sip of his tea. “I’m right here, you old bat. It’s not my fault your continued absence forced me into a display I’m not accustomed to giving.” Lucius picked up another of the little cakes and demolished it in the same manner as its predecessor before pushing the plate in Severus’ direction. “Narcissa has me on a blasted diet,” he said by way of explanation. “Since she isn’t here at the moment, I ordered the elves to provide proper cakes for tea in honor of your visit.”

“Ah, I see,” Severus advised with a touch of amusement in his voice. He reached forward and removed one of the cakes from the serving platter before taking a generous bite and placing the remainder gently on his saucer. “So it was the anticipation of having a few treats that put that Dumbdorian smile on your face and not my longed for presence as you would have me believe.”

“Now you’re being vicious for no reason,” Lucius commented dryly while eyeing the remaining cakes covetously.

Slightly exasperated, Severus pushed the plate back in Lucius’ direction. “Oh, do have at them, Lucius.” He sighed when the blonde narrowed his eyes. “I’m not about to carry tales to Narcissa that you’ve gone off your bloody diet.”

Scowling again, Lucius reluctantly nudged the plate back in the other man’s direction. “You might not, but she’ll grill the damned elves, therefore, if I want anything close to a decent dinner this evening, I’ll not be having any more.”

Severus entertained the notion of scarfing the remainder of the cakes in front of the other man for his own amusement, but reasoned it wouldn’t do much for his cause if he did. “Order the elves to box the remainder for me to take with me when I leave. I’ll shrink it, slip it to you when they’re not looking, and you can enjoy them at your leisure.”

A delighted expression crossed Lucius’ countenance before it was replaced with a suspicious look. “Why?”

“I’m not about to eat them all,” Severus advised before he finished off the cake he had. “I’d have indigestion for a week, and no, it’s not because they’re anything but delicious; I’m not accustomed to such rich fare,” he lied with a straight face. Gertrude brought him wonderful little snacks about once a week. The Malfoy cakes didn’t compare to her homemade treats, but he wasn’t about to let Lucius know or he would probably make Severus share.

Lucius sat back in his chair, crossed an ankle over a knee and sipped his tea. “Now that that’s settled to our mutual satisfaction, tell me what drove you to actually see me. I was almost surprised to hear from you after the number of invitations you’ve refused.”

This was an old argument and one that Severus didn’t feel the need to start again.

“You’re a bit more blunt than you used to be, Lucius. A few years ago you would have waited me out,” Severus replied as he, too, put one ankle on a knee. “You know very well why I decline your gracious invitations for a sumptuous evening of wining and dining. I live in a flat that Narcissa wouldn’t be caught dead in so I am unable to return your hospitality. I still refuse to be the poor relation who comes to dinner once a month.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that point, shall we?”

“We shall,” Severus stated before taking a rather large drink of his tea. Setting the cup down gently, he raised an eyebrow in Malfoy’s direction. “Are you still interested in the collection of antique books left to me by my mother’s family?”

Lucius paused in the middle of placing his own cup down, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “If I were, does that mean they’re finally for sale?”

“Would I have asked if they weren’t?”

Severus winced when the fine china cup entrusted to Lucius’ hand clattered onto its saucer.

“Are you mortally ill?” Lucius asked with what Severus noted in surprise was a touch of real concern in his voice.

“Not unless you’ve fed me some untraceable poison in my tea,” Severus replied after sniffing his cup. “What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing is wrong with me, my friend,” Lucius assured him. “I have to wonder what has occurred for you to be willing to part with your prized collection after all these years. If it’s not an incurable illness of some sort, what is it?”

Severus scowled at the other man and debated the wisdom of trying to lie to him. If he knew Lucius at all, and he did, the man would dig and scour until he found the truth of the matter. “I have a son, and I wish to repair Spinner’s End into a proper home for him.”

“A son?” The astonishment evident in Lucius’ tone was reflected in his face. “When… How…?”

“A minor dalliance during the last few months of the Dark Lord’s existence,” Severus said bluntly. “And before you ask, it’s Granger.”

A small smirk emerged on Lucius’ face. “That would explain the Weasley whelp’s hangdog expression every time I have the misfortune of seeing him. His true love threw him over for a roll in the sheets with the – their former professor. That has to sting,” Lucius added with a brilliant smile on his face. “Poor lad. How will he ever recover from the blow?”

“Careful, Lucius,” Severus growled. “I could easily forget to leave the parcel of cakes.”

Lucius chuckled and waved a hand in the air. “After such good news, even cakes come in a poor second.” The hand stopped in midair, and a horrified expression replaced the gloating one. “You’re not considering marrying the Mu – Granger, are you?”

Severus snorted and drank from his cup. “I said I had a son, not that I’d become completely addle-headed. We’re sharing custody, not a grand love affair.”

Lucius nodded and then frowned before tilting his head and sending Severus a calculating look. “I’ll agree to purchase your secondhand volumes, at what I assume will be an incredibly inflated price, on one condition.”

Snape’s head tilted in the opposite direction while one brow rose. “I refuse to try and devise a potion that will allow you to eat as much as you want without gaining any weight, Lucius.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “That thought never crossed my mind.” Lucius mused briefly while gently rubbing his chin and nodding. “Although… it could be extremely useful and profitable. Think it over before you toss that idea in the rubbish, will you?”

“What’s the condition?” Severus growled, sure that it had something to do with attending the many dinner parties the Malfoys seemed to throw every other week and wondering if it would be worth it.

Lucius leaned back in his gleaming white wrought iron chair and smirked. “Nothing that will cause you any pain, my old friend.”

Knowing that any further groveling for the information would only encourage Malfoy’s coyness, Severus sat back in his own chair and picked up another cake. Lucius’ eyes narrowed slightly, and he watched as Snape placed it gently on his plate without taking a bite.

“You’re no fun any longer, Severus,” Lucius stated with a sigh.

“Almost dying tends to curb one’s sense of humor,” Snape retorted dryly.

“There is that,” Lucius said with a nod. “Very well.” He snapped his fingers and motioned to an elf to attend him. Leaning over, he whispered something, and the elf immediately scurried off to do whatever it was that his – or her – master demanded.

“How many of those blasted things do you have now?” Severus asked while pouring himself some more tea.

“Elves? I don’t have a clue. Narcissa takes care of keeping track of them and naming any new ones that pop up,” Lucius replied with an airy wave of his hand.

The elf returned, bowed and presented Lucius with a rolled up parchment, which he took. “Go,” he commanded while making a shooing motion with his hand. “Far, far away.”

The elf turned and cast a woe-be-gone expression toward its master before trudging off into another area of the garden.

“That’s one of the little buggers that reports my every bite to Narcissa. It’ll probably have to iron its hands or some such after it has nothing to report,” Lucius grumbled while unrolling the parchment. “I had this drawn up – well, when we knew for sure you were going to live,” he stated baldly. He handed the item to Severus and then sat back.

Severus took and then skimmed the parchment before shooting Lucius a suspicious glance. “Why would you want to purchase Spinner’s End? Have you discovered gold under its meager cellar?”

Lucius chuckled once and then sobered. He drew a large breath, raised his arms, placed the elbows on the fragile looking table, clasped his hands and shook his head before dropping both hands to the surface. “What price would you have me put on my son’s head, Severus?” he asked softly.

Severus sent Lucius a confused look and asked, “What does one have to do with the other?”

“Everything,” was the exasperating answer he was given. Lucius rose and walked to the edge of the paved terrace. “All of this,” he advised while waving an arm to indicate the whole of the Malfoy estate, “would be worthless and of no value to me if we had lost Draco. You ensured that he survived, and I would gladly – gladly – sign it over to you if I thought you would actually accept it. But you wouldn’t, would you?”

“Of course not,” Severus stated almost angrily. “What was done or wasn’t done---”

“Spare me the speech,” Lucius stated wearily, interrupting and sitting down again. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care. I don’t care!” he repeated louder. “I purchased the rest of the row houses surrounding yours when it was obvious you were going to survive. This,” he said while indicating the parchment Severus still held, “is my way of saying thank you for protecting my son. Take it, buy a decent home for you and your son and allow me to tear down that block of monstrosities once and for all.”

For the second time in less than a year, Severus Snape was left speechless.

“I… I need time to think,” was all he could manage to get out of his mouth.

“What’s to think about?” Lucius asked while snatching the agreement out of Severus’ hand. “This document is almost painful for me to read, do you realize that? There are none of the clauses or twists I normally have put in. It’s a straight forward, vanilla purchase contact in my butterscotch world of business.”

“Butterscotch?”

“Oh, shut it. It sounded better than saying chocolate.”

“You could have said butterbrickle. It has those crunchy little toffee bits and tastes quite good on a certain type of cake.”

“Are you going to sell me the blasted place or not?”

“I would be a fool not to.”

“That’s never stopped you before. Hey! Don’t do that! You said – Oh, for pity’s sake – Here! Take that, you black-hearted scoundrel!”

Splinter slowly scratched his head and pondered the strangeness of his master and his master’s guest as they completely ruined the cakes his master had demanded by throwing them at each other. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to report the bizarre event to his mistress.

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In Search of a Life