HP: TSH — Chapter 318 - Extra: Praeris and Snape

Extra: Praeris and Snape

It was a Muggle restaurant. All three of them had used magic to avoid violating the Statute of Secrecy.

Whether it was the Muggle setting or the requirements of the Statute of Secrecy, Draco Malfoy didn't raise a single objection throughout. Whatever Praeris did, he did as well.

Snape observed this with a passing, almost careless glance.

Praeris opened the menu, ordered herself a children's meal, then went through a string of other dishes. She turned to Draco Malfoy. "Anything else you want?"

"That's all," Draco Malfoy said. "Nothing needs changing."

Praeris nodded. "In that case — carrot cake, bread pudding, sponge cake..."

With every item she added, Draco Malfoy's expression grew stranger. Why was Praeris ordering so many desserts?

She finished ordering and passed the menu to Snape. Snape handed it directly to the waiter without adding anything.

"Sir," Draco Malfoy said with a smile, "you're still so attentive to Praeris. No professor is as devoted as you are. Why don't you continue as headmaster? It's what you deserve."

After the war ended, Snape had voluntarily resigned from the position of Hogwarts headmaster, with Professor McGonagall taking over. He himself became the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, now no one could stop him. Not even Voldemort's curse.

"Ah, Draco Malfoy." Snape offered a faint smile. "You always manage to say the fair-minded thing. But it's hardly a good post. Lucius tells me you're planning to study alchemy — is that right?"

Draco Malfoy smiled. "That's right. Next time you visit the Manor, I must show you my little projects."

"No need for that," Praeris said, already pulling her necklace out from her collar. She unfastened it and held it out for Snape to see. "Look at the craftsmanship."

Snape's eyebrows rose slightly. For once, he did not praise Draco Malfoy. "Passable."

"Nicolas Flamel's legacy is surely known only to Dumbledore," he added, in the same calm tone. "When he wakes, don't forget to demand payment."

"I won't forget," Praeris said.

The waiter began bringing out the food. Praeris asked him to place all the desserts on Snape's side of the table.

Draco Malfoy couldn't shake an odd feeling.

It wasn't that Snape had never dined at Malfoy Manor, though those occasions were very, very rare, and when he did come, he only ever had a little wine.

Lucius's assessment of this was: "Severus has always been like this."

But today, Snape had not only accepted the invitation. He had also allowed Praeris to order half a table of pastries for him, and he was actually eating them.

"Oh, right." Praeris seemed to recall something. She turned to Draco Malfoy, her tone perfectly flat. "I don't know if Lucius ever mentioned it, but Mr. Snape is my relative. I only found out myself later."

"What?" Draco Malfoy's mouth fell open. The shock on his face was genuine.

Among British wizards, who was related to whom was hardly a remarkable matter, Draco Malfoy was even related to that mad dog Sirius Black. But the relationship between Praeris and Snape was clearly something far closer than ordinary relatives.

"Surprising, isn't it?" Praeris said calmly. "I didn't expect it at first either."

Snape set down his fork, picked up his handkerchief, and wiped his mouth. "This is not something worth broadcasting. Draco Malfoy, just keep it to yourself."

All along, Draco Malfoy had assumed Snape valued Praeris because of her talent in Potions. He'd never imagined there was a family connection as well.

It was really... really... Mr. Snape looked like a person with no relatives or friends whatsoever... wait. Where did that leave his own father and mother?

Something clicked. He suddenly understood why his father and mother hadn't opposed his relationship as strongly as he'd expected, why they had accepted Praeris, a half-blood. Part of it was certainly Praeris's ability and reputation, but Snape's presence was by no means without influence.

Praeris, for her part, found it quietly amusing. She understood exactly what Snape meant by "keep it to yourself." On one hand, he was telling Draco Malfoy not to go around disclosing his private affairs. On the other, he was making sure Draco Malfoy knew that Praeris had family.

"Where are you living now?" Snape asked.

"Above the beauty shop on Diagon Alley," Praeris said, "sometimes at Black Moon Lane. Before the hearing I stayed at Malfoy Manor for a few days. Depends on my mood."

Snape seemed to find this barely acceptable. The two of them moved on to discussing Praeris's potion reform bill.

For the rest of the meal, Draco Malfoy tasted nothing. It felt like sitting an O.W.L. exam with an examiner firing questions at him, like sitting on a bed of nails. Praeris, on the other hand, finished her entire children's meal. Snape, on his side of the table, worked through two servings of dessert.

After the meal, Praeris told Draco Malfoy to head home on his own. He couldn't wait to leave. This was the first time he had ever seen Professor Snape without any need to cultivate connections, or rather, there was simply no longer any need to cultivate them at all.

He wanted to go home right now and ask his father and mother what exactly was going on.

But he knew he couldn't say that. So instead he said, "Pansy is very worried about you. I'll write them a letter and let them know you're safe."

Millicent and Pansy had gone to Germany together. Praeris had work and couldn't go. As was customary, they would bring back local specialties, even though Praeris already had far too many German specialties as it was.

Praeris and Snape walked along the streets of London. She said suddenly, "Severus, would you like to go see Southend-on-Sea?"

Perhaps it was Snape's question about her living arrangements that made her think of it, this place that was part of her inheritance.

Snape was silent.

They walked from one end of the street to the other before he finally spoke. "She probably wouldn't welcome me."

"Sylvia welcomes you," Praeris said, without hesitation. "Otherwise she wouldn't have stood in front of you."

During Praeris's second month at St. Mungo's, Kaya mentioned that a Healer who had once worked in the Spell Damage ward wanted to see her.

"Granny Daisy," Kaya said, with a soft note of feeling. "She retired over ten years ago."

Granny Daisy was an exceedingly good-tempered old woman who had become a Healer purely out of kindness, and had suffered quite a bit for it when she was young. She treated all the younger staff at the hospital well, and everyone liked and respected her.

"Child, I've been so worried about you," Granny Daisy said the moment they met. "Your mother went to Azkaban, and I didn't know whether your uncle had gone to find you."

Hearing those words, Praeris went still.

That day had been no different from any other for Daisy, except that she had admitted a special patient. A murderer awaiting trial. Also a girl who had just suffered a miscarriage, sick and in pain, barely holding together.

After all these years, Daisy had learned how to deal with murderers and villains. But she was also a mother. She could not help but pity a pitiful mother.

In the moonlight, she covered her mouth and wept as she broke St. Mungo's regulations, using her own owl to send a letter on behalf of this mother named Sylvia.

Daisy knew she had made a mistake. She tried to put it out of her mind and go on being an ordinary Healer. But she still couldn't stop worrying about Severus Snape.

She knew he was a Death Eater. She knew Snape had escaped trial with Dumbledore's help. But there was never a child by Snape's side.

Daisy couldn't help thinking about it, again and again. How she wished she could send another letter to Spinner's End, but she didn't even know the name of Sylvia's child. She hated herself for not having glanced at the contents of that letter.

She had kept this secret for nearly 20 years, until not long ago, when she heard about Snape and his student, and it was said that the student's mother was Sylvia.

"Your mother didn't not want to find you." Daisy wiped her tears. "She was in so much pain then. She had lost all her children. At night she cried and cried, calling for her mother and father, and calling out to her cousin — saying she was sorry, that she had been disobedient, begging someone to save her child."

Snape turned his head away.

He couldn't listen anymore.

He knew why Sylvia had said those things.

He had told her not to get involved in the wizarding war. That fool — angry as she was, had still thought her cousin was looking out for her, so when she got married she sent Snape an invitation.

Go to St. Mungo's sooner, Snape had thought at the time. This condition is quite serious. So he wrote another letter full of venom, telling her that rather than marrying a Muggle, she might as well have died in the wizarding war like her father. At least that would have been clean.

That midnight, Sylvia had perhaps remembered what Snape said to her then.

It's all in the past now, Snape thought.

Southend-on-Sea.

Praeris had once stayed here with Dumbledore for half a summer, but they had been too busy, and many rooms had gone untouched. It wasn't until after the war that Praeris finally cleaned the whole place.

"I used to watch the stars here," Praeris said, pointing at the now-broken astronomical telescope. Then she led Snape further up. "When I was little, I lived in this room."

"Back then, I had an outburst of accidental magic that terrified Dipur William." She said it the way someone states a fact. "Dipur William's mother was devout. By the time I woke up, I was at the convent, and I had forgotten everything."

"Sylvia wanted me to forget the fear of the magical outburst. And Dipur William — probably hoped his Lord would save me."

Snape gave a cold laugh. "Muggles."

He didn't say more. After all, this was Praeris's biological father.

Two trunks sat in the corner. Praeris called them forward and opened them for Snape.

One held the things Sylvia had originally entrusted to Sophia. After Sophia passed away, the descendants who inherited her estate had tossed them into a junk room somewhere, until Praeris came to reclaim them.

The trunk was full of magical items used for Divination. "I plan to donate these, along with some astronomical observation tools, to Hogwarts," Praeris said. "So they can continue to be of use."

If no one used them, the items would gradually dim until they died. Praeris hoped they could go on serving a purpose, as a continuation of Sylvia's life, in their own small way.

"You are also her continuation," Snape said. The words came out quickly.

Praeris smiled. "Severus, you're right."

The other trunk held Sylvia's personal belongings, several diaries and notebooks. The last one ended with Sylvia recording that she had cast a Memory Charm on her daughter.

"I saw you, sir," Praeris said, her grin turning impish. "Right in here."

This was Sylvia's diary from her school days. She had written about the time her cousin rejected her with such viciousness, and inside, she had gone to town on Snape, calling him a pitch-black freak bat, a gloomy pervert hiding in a cave, a great villain who couldn't recognize a kind heart.

"Naive," Snape said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Foolish."

Praeris let out a bright, wicked laugh.

Snape watched her laugh in silence. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes about a hundred times.

"Do you want to go to Spinner's End?" he said suddenly.

"Where?" Praeris asked.

"My home," Snape said.

Spinner's End was in Cokeworth, an industrial town, right next to an abandoned industrial zone. The environment here was worse than London's worst slum districts. Aylesbury at least only had drunkenness and violence, fistfights, gang disputes, and robberies, but that was beside the point.

Cokeworth was objectively grim. The river ran black and murky. The walls were grey with grime. Broken street lamps went unrepaired.

Praeris followed close behind Snape, step for step, and heard him say, "I grew up here. A wretched place, isn't it?"

"That's truly remarkable," Praeris said.

Snape frowned. "What?"

"Severus, you are truly remarkable." She said it slowly. "To come out of a place like this and become a widely recognized Potions Master — with that kind of power, brilliance, and cunning."

Praeris had never been ashamed of having grown up an orphan. The lower one's origins, the more it proved that everything she had achieved was entirely her own. No one to lean on. No one to thank but herself.

By that same measure, she understood better than most how hard Snape's road had been. A poor half-blood boy, carving out respect and renown in Slytherin, how much that must have cost.

Surprise crossed Snape's face. It was gone in an instant. He resumed his frown, turned his head, pressed his lips together, and led Praeris onward.

He could have Apparated them directly to his house. He had chosen to walk, this damp, foul-smelling, filthy, uneven road, because he wanted to see what Praeris would make of it.

Snape led his only family through alley after alley of abandoned brick houses and dark, sealed windows, walking as though he were passing through the ruins of his own past.

"We're here," he said.

He said it. But he didn't move.

Praeris looked at him. "What's wrong?"

Snape shook his head and opened the door with the ease of long habit.

The door opened directly into the sitting room, no partition at all. The space was cramped, every wall lined with books. A candle-lit lamp hung from the ceiling, its light too weak, the room dim and shadowy. In the center sat a sofa, an armchair, and a table.

Beyond that, Praeris saw nothing with any personal character. Nothing with any personal feeling.

In Snape's office at Hogwarts, there was the vase left behind after the daffodils withered, the little bucket Praeris had once used to scrounge supplies off Slughorn, the Potions Master mug, Snape's private stash of chocolate and sugar cubes, and a few bottles of wine, though he rarely drank, doing his best to keep a clear head. And so on.

Compared to the house on Spinner's End, the office at Hogwarts felt far more lived-in.

➤ Next: Extra Arc: Praeris and Snape 2