Falling Stars, Part 13
Title: Falling Stars
Rating: PG, Angst
Summary: The war's finished, the good guys won, and it's time to live. Wouldn’t it be lovely if that were true?
from Falling Stars, Part 12
Unlike his daughter, Severus’s son had almost gaunt features that further
accentuated the addition of Severus’s easily recognizable lips and nose -
right down to the thick bump of cartilage at the ridge of his nose.
The tell-tale bump, in itself, was proof of his wife’s theory.
Rather than adopting the natural structure of his new father’s nose,
as his daughter had, the boy had apparently wished his restructured nose
to include the thick bump that Severus’s uncle had put there when he broke
the then fourteen year-old’s nose and refused to heal it.
Falling Stars, Part 13
While Juliette went to wake and dress their daughter, Severus poured his young associate another tea and waited for the young man to broach whatever subject he had been mulling over nervously. When it seemed that the young man would be unable to marshal his nerves, Severus finally spoke.
“Neville, you might prevent at least some bruising if you would cease gnawing at your lower lip and simply state whatever it is that has been troubling you. If it would be of any assistance, I can offer to restrain from casting any permanently damaging hexes for a period of … say… ten minutes.”
“Haa-hh,” the younger professor barked appreciatively. “Never one to mince words are you? Chop, shred, dice, and crush…but, never mince. Very well, to be blunt, I would like to give Harry his birthday gift, but due to the circumstances, it’s something that I will need to ask that you maintain and hold in trust for him until.”
“Indeed and what is the nature of this gift that you cannot transfer it to him immediately? A broom? A wand? I can think of very little in the wizarding world that your nature would find appealing that a child could not enjoy.”
Severus’s had rarely regretted being burdened with a harsh nature. In truth, he was rather certain that if he had been a single trace softer, he would not have survived his harsh up-bringing, much less his years of service to the order. Nevertheless, as he watched the solemn young man slip a charmed ribbon off from around the scroll that had softly slapped in his hand and quietly whisper a charm to end the birthday theme it had begun to play, he might have otherwise wished that he had the innate ability to provide comfort to the boy. After scanning the scroll, Neville slipped a page of it out and dropped it into his pocket before passing it to Severus.
“Under the circumstances, I don’t think he would object to having you read this. Be careful and keep the blank parchment though until you’ve read through my letter entirely. I suspect you might have a particular appreciation for it if you think back to our third year; Harry had something very like it that perplexed you. The phrase to open it is ‘second childhood’. It’s not quite as extensive as the other, but has other some features that the first didn’t.”
The young man paused reminiscently - apparently remembering other times that they had used the strange parchment that Severus remembered quite well- then shook his head to draw himself out of his memories, and continued, “It would probably be wiser for me to say my goodbyes now, before he wakes up. I don’t want to confuse or upset him. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to owl, or - if it’s an emergency - hold his bracelet and think my name. Mine will warm in response and I’ll trigger the portkey to it as soon as can drop whatever I’m doing at that time. But, it would be appreciated if you could make sure you’re in an open area that I can portkey through to without causing any destruction.”
Hearing the finality in Neville’s voice, Severus frowned.
“Mr. Longbottom, you do realize, do you not, that your parting… is not permanent. The boy, Harry, in lieu of his as yet un-chosen name, though I suspect my wife has some suggestions regarding that…” he trailed off musing as he remembered a significant glance that his wife had given him when they had discussed the child’s name, then set the question aside and continued, “In any event, Harry cares deeply for you.”
“Professor,” Neville denied with soft vehemence, “he’s a child.”
“From my perspective, Professor Longbottom, so are you.” Severus paused - suppressing a smile as he anticipated the surprise that he hoped his next comment would draw as he finished, “And yet, I have known other professors, who were wiser and older than you are now, who discovered that - given the extended lives that wizards enjoy - a ten year difference in ages is often irrelevant once the younger wizard reaches maturity. I suspect this will be particularly true for Harry as the aging process releases the memories of … his previous life. Indeed, perhaps the intervening years might give you the opportunity to advance your own experiences so that when he does reach maturity the two of you will be more closely matched.”
As he had expected, once his comment sank in, the young man nearly choked on his tea. Whether he was more surprised to be receiving encouragement from self-acknowledged dour and dismal pessimistic professor or to hear that his worst critic was willing to allow Neville to court his child, Severus couldn’t be certain - but the effect was certainly salutary enough to make up for being the frequent target of jokes at Hogwart’s yearly budget meetings where he had inevitably endured the headmaster’s question of why he needed yet more replacement cauldrons for the students.
Longbottom nodded thoughtfully and studied the bottom of his cup for several seconds before he stood and turned to leave, but as he left the table, Neville paused to turn back and look at Severus with a painfully frank and open gaze. The unreserved honesty that Severus read there was startling and for the briefest moment, Severus had a glimpse of what he thought Potter might have seen in the awkward young man.
When his former student spoke that awkwardness had been replaced with solemn dignity: “Then, Sir, I will remind you of my offer for any assistance and leave you to your wife and children. As you so aptly point out, the man that I have known and loved, is - for the moment- years away. I will look forward to a visit as soon as you feel it would be appropriate.”
Before Severus could make any response, Longbottom turned swiftly and took the quick half-apparation step - disappearing with a soft flutter of breeze, as the surrounding air swept inward to fill his sudden absence. Shaking his head, Severus quickly scanned the scroll. thumbed through it, then scanned the letter of explanation again as he realized that it contained several deeds to the manor, cottages, nurseries, and areas around Green Man’s Grove - which in itself was quite a big estate. Also, if he was reading it correctly, the blank scroll was a charmed map of Green Man’s Grove.
“Second childhood,” Severus murmured experimentally, then muttered a surprised oath when the likeness of a verdant green ivy vine sprouted from one edge and scrolled across the top of the parchment - seeming to grow leaves as it thickened and curled in on itself when it reached the parchment’s other edge. As it did, ornate glittering gold letters moved across the vines, spelling out: Messirs Moony, Gred, Forge, and Ivy proudly welcome you to Green Man’s Grove and sincerely hope that you find it a place worthy of dropping the weight of the world from your shoulders and enjoying a second childhood.
Pausing for a moment, Severus shook his head in amusement wondering from the tone of the message if he were standing in a manor or an amusement park; certainly, Potter had earned a respite, and the initiators of the map - if he correctly interpreted their pseudonyms - were more than likely to try and make up for the childhood that the boy-who-lived had missed out on. As soon as he came to that conclusion, the words scrawled across the ivy blinked out of existence and were replaced by a mild challenge: To ensure that you are a rightful possessor of this excellently charmed item, you are asked to please answer the following questions:
No sooner than he had finished reading the line, it blinked out and was replaced by an analogy.
The moon is to moony as dementors are to __________.
Each of the five ivy leaves glowed brightly in turn as gold letters appeared, spelling out possible answers.
Ickle ronniekins
Ivy
Lightening
Wittle Seeker
Songbird
Smiling at the well chosen comparison, Severus considered the analogy carefully making certain he understood it before answering. Given its authors, a false answer could easily have explosive consequences.
It seemed straightforward enough, however. From his long exposure to the golden trio then the defense association, Severus easily recognized the potential answers as the group’s pseudonyms. Ickle Ronniekins was, or had been, the late Ronald Weasley. Ivy was, not surprisingly, Longbottom. Lightening, also no surprise, referred to Harry. By elimination, Ginevra Weasley would have undoubtedly have been the ‘Wittle Seeker’ combining her brother’s references to her as their ‘wee wittle sissy’ and her role as succeeding Potter as the Gryffindor Seeker. Songbird, would have been the one to confuse him, being possibly Granger or Lovegood, if he had not earlier heard Miss Granger singing the prophecy.
The second aspect was slightly more complex, though he felt that he still had enough information to feel confident of his interpretation; the moon to moony could refer to several things including a forced transformation, but as the boy’s godmut wasn’t included in the list, the next option - a deep seated fear- was more probable as both clues were Lupin’s and Harry’s boggart forms.
“Lightening,” he responded with certainty and was rewarded with a flare of golden light followed by a dance of new letters across the ivy.”
A sour bat’s glare can truly scare, but a word to the wise and enlightened - it’s of the old coot’s _________ _________ that you should truly be frightened.
As the answers flickered onto each leaf:
amiable hoot
grumpy growl
impish twinkle
impertinent toot
Severus chuckled appreciatively at their audacity and humor. While general familiarity with the group might have allowed someone to recognize that the phrase ‘old coot’ referred to Dumbledore, the rhyme scheme and deceptively simple phrasing pointed to the incorrect answer: amiable hoot. Presumably, the map’s authors felt, Severus had to agree, that only closer knowledge of the venerable wizard’s personal tendencies and physical tells would have hinted at the correct answer: that the meddlesome headmaster’s mischief was almost always accompanied by madly twinkling eyes.
Before he could even finish saying ‘impish twinkle’, leaves holding each of the potential answers seemed to curl in on themselves then uncurled to flash mischievously sparkling eyes glittering in gold ink that blinked once, twice, and then out of existence as more gold letters scrolled across the vine. As he read the last question, his mouth -quite uncharacteristically - dropped open with shock.
His godson was key to the last puzzle:
For Cobra, it was heartstring and pansy, that first worked magic pure and sweet, but Lightening found only phoenix and _______ could quicken his heartbeat.
This time, instead of scrolling down each leaf, the optional answers were flown across the page by tiny, poignantly accurate sketches of Harry’s friends that swept around the edge on broom back before sweeping forward to seemingly hang delicate drawings of plant materials in the center of the map before returning to circle the edge of the parchment in acrobatic sweeps that nearly distracted him from the question at hand.
A tiny Sirius darted across the parchment leaving a trail dogwood blossoms behind him.
Following him, a red-inked Ginevra Weasley swept across the field to leave a wreath of ginger blossoms.
Cedric Diggory zipped across after her - diving through the wreath she’d placed to set an arch of hickory branches at either side.
Finally a miniature sketch of Neville wobbled into the center of the screen trailing a garland of ivy.
Reading over the puzzle, Severus stifled another round of shock as he realized that his godson had actually revealed his wand’s core: dragon’s heartstring. His throat tightened with sad relief at the thought that the boy had obviously felt that he’d found at least some measure of friendship and acceptance before he was murdered; he would not have otherwise revealed his wand’s core… one of the private details of a wizards life that not infrequently only a spouse or blood-bond might know. Indeed, it was one of the first secrets that wizarding society considered perfectly acceptable for young wizards and witches to withhold from their parents. In fact, Severus was almost certain that Draco had told neither Lucius nor Narcissa the composition of his wand. Lingering over a softly pained memory of Draco’s first moments at Hogwarts - after being sorted into Slytherin with a smile more than a wand’s length wide - running into his quarters and brandishing his new wand as he challenged “You’ll never guess - you’ll never guess - …” Severus could almost hear the boy’s melodic singsong chant.
Dragon’s heartstring - had first woken Draco’s magic… and Pansy … Pansy Parkinson, the selfish, prejudiced, narrow-minded, shrewish, promiscuous Pansy Parkinson was the first to wake his heart. While the girl was neither pure nor sweet, Draco’s love for her was, and it was Voldemort’s callous, impulsive rape and murder of the girl to assuage his ego and thirst for pain that finally saved Draco from following in his father’s depraved path. Though the little chit grated on Severus’s nerves every time he watched her throw herself at his godson in public, only to later be caught again and again having slipped out after curfew to pursue her illicit affairs with any student (male or otherwise) whom had caught her fancy for the evening, he could, nevertheless, hardly deny that for all of her abundant and glaring faults - she was his godson’s first true love and the loss of that love, while devastating had also woken Draco’s humanity in a way that nothing else could have.
Heartstring and Pansy…
While Severus had no need to guess at the phoenix core of Harry’s wand after the third tri-wizard task, the true question was who paralleled Pansy - by capturing Harry’s heart first. Before he’d seen the intimacy between Harry and Neville earlier that morning, Severus would have automatically assumed the answer to be the ginger blossoms that he took to symbolize Miss Weasley - as probably any one else would have as well. That fact, in itself, should have told him he was wrong. Their challenges so far had shown a fair bit more subtlety than he would have expected, but then the Trio squared had somehow always managed to exceed and out match his expectations. Despite the evidence of Harry’s inclinations, toward men, Severus felt safe in excluding Sirius.
Longbottom’s nickname lingered briefly on his lips, but he bit back the breath it would have been carried on as another parallel to Pansy came to mind accompanied by a second flash of memory from the fourth year. The unquenchable despair that he had witnessed on Potter’s face as he clung to Cedric Diggory’s lifeless form as Dumbledore tried to pull the boy away had haunted and troubled Severus for months afterward - so much so that he had included the astronomy tower into his patrol at random intervals three or four times nightly until the boy slowly came out of his grief. The openly staggering pain that had shown on Harry’s face was almost a mirror for the anguish and despair that he would later see on his godson’s face when Draco came staggering back from Hogsmeade carrying Pansy’s broken and brutalized body back without the aid of any spell. The little chit had died at some point in his escape from Malfoy mansion, without Draco’s knowledge, and Poppy’s final pronouncement had entirely devastated the boy. Even though he had not reconciled the similarities in their grief, before this, the very similar expression had set off several more months of nightly trips to the astronomy tower.
As he considered the possibility that Diggory had been Harry’s first love, the parchement warmed slightly and rustled threateningly (sounding almost annoyed) as it reminded Severus that its author’s were the often impatient, prank prone Weasley twins. Giving an incorrect answer, or not giving the correct in a sufficiently timely fashion was rather likely to have an explosive result. As if to confirm his suspicion, thin tendrils of smoke rose from each the symbols to form numbers mid-air.
10
One tendril melted away as the other warped.
9
A wispy leg of smoke turned and curled back in on itself.
8
Shaking his head in amusement, Severus watched the smoke unwinding into a seven as he answered with quiet certainty: “Hickory”.
In response, the smoke rising from the enchanted parchment began to twist and separate into small silhouettes of each friend that one after another shot past Severus, then curled around his back, and swiftly returned - diving back into the parchment with identifying traces of Severus’s magic that they had been designed to gather. As the small wispy figures converged they became indistinct floating over the parchment like a thin layer of clouds. After a moment, the tiny clouds broke into more natural formations leaving gaps through which Severus could easily see and read an expansive blueprint of the property that seemed to extend to the edges of the parchment with a suggestion that the actual property carried beyond the edges.
Once again, gold lettering scrolled across the ivy vine still running across the top.
To refine picture, select landmark or person present in Green man’s grove, and say ‘zoom’.
Nodding in response to the instructions, Severus focused his thoughts on his wife, murmured her name just for good measure, and cast the ‘zoom’ charm. At the first breath of her name, the orientation of the map changed directions and skidded across the page until it settled on a manor house that began to expand as he finished the charm.
Rating: PG, Angst
Summary: The war's finished, the good guys won, and it's time to live. Wouldn’t it be lovely if that were true?
from Falling Stars, Part 12
Unlike his daughter, Severus’s son had almost gaunt features that further
accentuated the addition of Severus’s easily recognizable lips and nose -
right down to the thick bump of cartilage at the ridge of his nose.
The tell-tale bump, in itself, was proof of his wife’s theory.
Rather than adopting the natural structure of his new father’s nose,
as his daughter had, the boy had apparently wished his restructured nose
to include the thick bump that Severus’s uncle had put there when he broke
the then fourteen year-old’s nose and refused to heal it.
Falling Stars, Part 13
While Juliette went to wake and dress their daughter, Severus poured his young associate another tea and waited for the young man to broach whatever subject he had been mulling over nervously. When it seemed that the young man would be unable to marshal his nerves, Severus finally spoke.
“Neville, you might prevent at least some bruising if you would cease gnawing at your lower lip and simply state whatever it is that has been troubling you. If it would be of any assistance, I can offer to restrain from casting any permanently damaging hexes for a period of … say… ten minutes.”
“Haa-hh,” the younger professor barked appreciatively. “Never one to mince words are you? Chop, shred, dice, and crush…but, never mince. Very well, to be blunt, I would like to give Harry his birthday gift, but due to the circumstances, it’s something that I will need to ask that you maintain and hold in trust for him until.”
“Indeed and what is the nature of this gift that you cannot transfer it to him immediately? A broom? A wand? I can think of very little in the wizarding world that your nature would find appealing that a child could not enjoy.”
Severus’s had rarely regretted being burdened with a harsh nature. In truth, he was rather certain that if he had been a single trace softer, he would not have survived his harsh up-bringing, much less his years of service to the order. Nevertheless, as he watched the solemn young man slip a charmed ribbon off from around the scroll that had softly slapped in his hand and quietly whisper a charm to end the birthday theme it had begun to play, he might have otherwise wished that he had the innate ability to provide comfort to the boy. After scanning the scroll, Neville slipped a page of it out and dropped it into his pocket before passing it to Severus.
“Under the circumstances, I don’t think he would object to having you read this. Be careful and keep the blank parchment though until you’ve read through my letter entirely. I suspect you might have a particular appreciation for it if you think back to our third year; Harry had something very like it that perplexed you. The phrase to open it is ‘second childhood’. It’s not quite as extensive as the other, but has other some features that the first didn’t.”
The young man paused reminiscently - apparently remembering other times that they had used the strange parchment that Severus remembered quite well- then shook his head to draw himself out of his memories, and continued, “It would probably be wiser for me to say my goodbyes now, before he wakes up. I don’t want to confuse or upset him. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to owl, or - if it’s an emergency - hold his bracelet and think my name. Mine will warm in response and I’ll trigger the portkey to it as soon as can drop whatever I’m doing at that time. But, it would be appreciated if you could make sure you’re in an open area that I can portkey through to without causing any destruction.”
Hearing the finality in Neville’s voice, Severus frowned.
“Mr. Longbottom, you do realize, do you not, that your parting… is not permanent. The boy, Harry, in lieu of his as yet un-chosen name, though I suspect my wife has some suggestions regarding that…” he trailed off musing as he remembered a significant glance that his wife had given him when they had discussed the child’s name, then set the question aside and continued, “In any event, Harry cares deeply for you.”
“Professor,” Neville denied with soft vehemence, “he’s a child.”
“From my perspective, Professor Longbottom, so are you.” Severus paused - suppressing a smile as he anticipated the surprise that he hoped his next comment would draw as he finished, “And yet, I have known other professors, who were wiser and older than you are now, who discovered that - given the extended lives that wizards enjoy - a ten year difference in ages is often irrelevant once the younger wizard reaches maturity. I suspect this will be particularly true for Harry as the aging process releases the memories of … his previous life. Indeed, perhaps the intervening years might give you the opportunity to advance your own experiences so that when he does reach maturity the two of you will be more closely matched.”
As he had expected, once his comment sank in, the young man nearly choked on his tea. Whether he was more surprised to be receiving encouragement from self-acknowledged dour and dismal pessimistic professor or to hear that his worst critic was willing to allow Neville to court his child, Severus couldn’t be certain - but the effect was certainly salutary enough to make up for being the frequent target of jokes at Hogwart’s yearly budget meetings where he had inevitably endured the headmaster’s question of why he needed yet more replacement cauldrons for the students.
Longbottom nodded thoughtfully and studied the bottom of his cup for several seconds before he stood and turned to leave, but as he left the table, Neville paused to turn back and look at Severus with a painfully frank and open gaze. The unreserved honesty that Severus read there was startling and for the briefest moment, Severus had a glimpse of what he thought Potter might have seen in the awkward young man.
When his former student spoke that awkwardness had been replaced with solemn dignity: “Then, Sir, I will remind you of my offer for any assistance and leave you to your wife and children. As you so aptly point out, the man that I have known and loved, is - for the moment- years away. I will look forward to a visit as soon as you feel it would be appropriate.”
Before Severus could make any response, Longbottom turned swiftly and took the quick half-apparation step - disappearing with a soft flutter of breeze, as the surrounding air swept inward to fill his sudden absence. Shaking his head, Severus quickly scanned the scroll. thumbed through it, then scanned the letter of explanation again as he realized that it contained several deeds to the manor, cottages, nurseries, and areas around Green Man’s Grove - which in itself was quite a big estate. Also, if he was reading it correctly, the blank scroll was a charmed map of Green Man’s Grove.
“Second childhood,” Severus murmured experimentally, then muttered a surprised oath when the likeness of a verdant green ivy vine sprouted from one edge and scrolled across the top of the parchment - seeming to grow leaves as it thickened and curled in on itself when it reached the parchment’s other edge. As it did, ornate glittering gold letters moved across the vines, spelling out: Messirs Moony, Gred, Forge, and Ivy proudly welcome you to Green Man’s Grove and sincerely hope that you find it a place worthy of dropping the weight of the world from your shoulders and enjoying a second childhood.
Pausing for a moment, Severus shook his head in amusement wondering from the tone of the message if he were standing in a manor or an amusement park; certainly, Potter had earned a respite, and the initiators of the map - if he correctly interpreted their pseudonyms - were more than likely to try and make up for the childhood that the boy-who-lived had missed out on. As soon as he came to that conclusion, the words scrawled across the ivy blinked out of existence and were replaced by a mild challenge: To ensure that you are a rightful possessor of this excellently charmed item, you are asked to please answer the following questions:
No sooner than he had finished reading the line, it blinked out and was replaced by an analogy.
The moon is to moony as dementors are to __________.
Each of the five ivy leaves glowed brightly in turn as gold letters appeared, spelling out possible answers.
Ickle ronniekins
Ivy
Lightening
Wittle Seeker
Songbird
Smiling at the well chosen comparison, Severus considered the analogy carefully making certain he understood it before answering. Given its authors, a false answer could easily have explosive consequences.
It seemed straightforward enough, however. From his long exposure to the golden trio then the defense association, Severus easily recognized the potential answers as the group’s pseudonyms. Ickle Ronniekins was, or had been, the late Ronald Weasley. Ivy was, not surprisingly, Longbottom. Lightening, also no surprise, referred to Harry. By elimination, Ginevra Weasley would have undoubtedly have been the ‘Wittle Seeker’ combining her brother’s references to her as their ‘wee wittle sissy’ and her role as succeeding Potter as the Gryffindor Seeker. Songbird, would have been the one to confuse him, being possibly Granger or Lovegood, if he had not earlier heard Miss Granger singing the prophecy.
The second aspect was slightly more complex, though he felt that he still had enough information to feel confident of his interpretation; the moon to moony could refer to several things including a forced transformation, but as the boy’s godmut wasn’t included in the list, the next option - a deep seated fear- was more probable as both clues were Lupin’s and Harry’s boggart forms.
“Lightening,” he responded with certainty and was rewarded with a flare of golden light followed by a dance of new letters across the ivy.”
A sour bat’s glare can truly scare, but a word to the wise and enlightened - it’s of the old coot’s _________ _________ that you should truly be frightened.
As the answers flickered onto each leaf:
amiable hoot
grumpy growl
impish twinkle
impertinent toot
Severus chuckled appreciatively at their audacity and humor. While general familiarity with the group might have allowed someone to recognize that the phrase ‘old coot’ referred to Dumbledore, the rhyme scheme and deceptively simple phrasing pointed to the incorrect answer: amiable hoot. Presumably, the map’s authors felt, Severus had to agree, that only closer knowledge of the venerable wizard’s personal tendencies and physical tells would have hinted at the correct answer: that the meddlesome headmaster’s mischief was almost always accompanied by madly twinkling eyes.
Before he could even finish saying ‘impish twinkle’, leaves holding each of the potential answers seemed to curl in on themselves then uncurled to flash mischievously sparkling eyes glittering in gold ink that blinked once, twice, and then out of existence as more gold letters scrolled across the vine. As he read the last question, his mouth -quite uncharacteristically - dropped open with shock.
His godson was key to the last puzzle:
For Cobra, it was heartstring and pansy, that first worked magic pure and sweet, but Lightening found only phoenix and _______ could quicken his heartbeat.
This time, instead of scrolling down each leaf, the optional answers were flown across the page by tiny, poignantly accurate sketches of Harry’s friends that swept around the edge on broom back before sweeping forward to seemingly hang delicate drawings of plant materials in the center of the map before returning to circle the edge of the parchment in acrobatic sweeps that nearly distracted him from the question at hand.
A tiny Sirius darted across the parchment leaving a trail dogwood blossoms behind him.
Following him, a red-inked Ginevra Weasley swept across the field to leave a wreath of ginger blossoms.
Cedric Diggory zipped across after her - diving through the wreath she’d placed to set an arch of hickory branches at either side.
Finally a miniature sketch of Neville wobbled into the center of the screen trailing a garland of ivy.
Reading over the puzzle, Severus stifled another round of shock as he realized that his godson had actually revealed his wand’s core: dragon’s heartstring. His throat tightened with sad relief at the thought that the boy had obviously felt that he’d found at least some measure of friendship and acceptance before he was murdered; he would not have otherwise revealed his wand’s core… one of the private details of a wizards life that not infrequently only a spouse or blood-bond might know. Indeed, it was one of the first secrets that wizarding society considered perfectly acceptable for young wizards and witches to withhold from their parents. In fact, Severus was almost certain that Draco had told neither Lucius nor Narcissa the composition of his wand. Lingering over a softly pained memory of Draco’s first moments at Hogwarts - after being sorted into Slytherin with a smile more than a wand’s length wide - running into his quarters and brandishing his new wand as he challenged “You’ll never guess - you’ll never guess - …” Severus could almost hear the boy’s melodic singsong chant.
Dragon’s heartstring - had first woken Draco’s magic… and Pansy … Pansy Parkinson, the selfish, prejudiced, narrow-minded, shrewish, promiscuous Pansy Parkinson was the first to wake his heart. While the girl was neither pure nor sweet, Draco’s love for her was, and it was Voldemort’s callous, impulsive rape and murder of the girl to assuage his ego and thirst for pain that finally saved Draco from following in his father’s depraved path. Though the little chit grated on Severus’s nerves every time he watched her throw herself at his godson in public, only to later be caught again and again having slipped out after curfew to pursue her illicit affairs with any student (male or otherwise) whom had caught her fancy for the evening, he could, nevertheless, hardly deny that for all of her abundant and glaring faults - she was his godson’s first true love and the loss of that love, while devastating had also woken Draco’s humanity in a way that nothing else could have.
Heartstring and Pansy…
While Severus had no need to guess at the phoenix core of Harry’s wand after the third tri-wizard task, the true question was who paralleled Pansy - by capturing Harry’s heart first. Before he’d seen the intimacy between Harry and Neville earlier that morning, Severus would have automatically assumed the answer to be the ginger blossoms that he took to symbolize Miss Weasley - as probably any one else would have as well. That fact, in itself, should have told him he was wrong. Their challenges so far had shown a fair bit more subtlety than he would have expected, but then the Trio squared had somehow always managed to exceed and out match his expectations. Despite the evidence of Harry’s inclinations, toward men, Severus felt safe in excluding Sirius.
Longbottom’s nickname lingered briefly on his lips, but he bit back the breath it would have been carried on as another parallel to Pansy came to mind accompanied by a second flash of memory from the fourth year. The unquenchable despair that he had witnessed on Potter’s face as he clung to Cedric Diggory’s lifeless form as Dumbledore tried to pull the boy away had haunted and troubled Severus for months afterward - so much so that he had included the astronomy tower into his patrol at random intervals three or four times nightly until the boy slowly came out of his grief. The openly staggering pain that had shown on Harry’s face was almost a mirror for the anguish and despair that he would later see on his godson’s face when Draco came staggering back from Hogsmeade carrying Pansy’s broken and brutalized body back without the aid of any spell. The little chit had died at some point in his escape from Malfoy mansion, without Draco’s knowledge, and Poppy’s final pronouncement had entirely devastated the boy. Even though he had not reconciled the similarities in their grief, before this, the very similar expression had set off several more months of nightly trips to the astronomy tower.
As he considered the possibility that Diggory had been Harry’s first love, the parchement warmed slightly and rustled threateningly (sounding almost annoyed) as it reminded Severus that its author’s were the often impatient, prank prone Weasley twins. Giving an incorrect answer, or not giving the correct in a sufficiently timely fashion was rather likely to have an explosive result. As if to confirm his suspicion, thin tendrils of smoke rose from each the symbols to form numbers mid-air.
10
One tendril melted away as the other warped.
9
A wispy leg of smoke turned and curled back in on itself.
8
Shaking his head in amusement, Severus watched the smoke unwinding into a seven as he answered with quiet certainty: “Hickory”.
In response, the smoke rising from the enchanted parchment began to twist and separate into small silhouettes of each friend that one after another shot past Severus, then curled around his back, and swiftly returned - diving back into the parchment with identifying traces of Severus’s magic that they had been designed to gather. As the small wispy figures converged they became indistinct floating over the parchment like a thin layer of clouds. After a moment, the tiny clouds broke into more natural formations leaving gaps through which Severus could easily see and read an expansive blueprint of the property that seemed to extend to the edges of the parchment with a suggestion that the actual property carried beyond the edges.
Once again, gold lettering scrolled across the ivy vine still running across the top.
To refine picture, select landmark or person present in Green man’s grove, and say ‘zoom’.
Nodding in response to the instructions, Severus focused his thoughts on his wife, murmured her name just for good measure, and cast the ‘zoom’ charm. At the first breath of her name, the orientation of the map changed directions and skidded across the page until it settled on a manor house that began to expand as he finished the charm.