Surprise!
Date: Sunday, January 7, 2001
Time: Early afternoon
Location: The Woods' cottage
Characters: June Connors, Oliver Wood, Wini Wood (NPC), Severus Snape
Rating: G - there's a child present! (Well, now that Snape's involved, I should probably push that to at least PG...)
( Here comes Santa Claus... )
Time: Early afternoon
Location: The Woods' cottage
Characters: June Connors, Oliver Wood, Wini Wood (NPC), Severus Snape
Rating: G - there's a child present! (Well, now that Snape's involved, I should probably push that to at least PG...)
( Here comes Santa Claus... )
In truth, he had no intention of staying long - the only reason he had asked to accompany June was that he was quite certain Wood would either slam the door in his face, or refuse to open it entirely, if Severus arrived alone. Moreover, if he sent the gift by post, it was sure to return to him, unopened, which was simply unacceptable.
Once Winifred had seen it and opened it, whether or not she would be allowed to keep it would no longer be in question. Wood was far too soft to deny his child anything she wanted. Severus just had to make sure she had the opportunity to want it!
Then, he would leave, and let them to themselves, though he was not the least bit satisfied with June's interest in the philandering prat! How many women had Wood been associated with in the last ten months, his wife scarcely cold in her grave? How quickly he abandoned Ginevra Weasley - though that was for the best - Oliver Wood wasn't good enough for anyone Severus esteemed. Why couldn't the prat toy with Katie Bell's affections? There would be a suitable match.
"I'm always 'nice' when it is deserved," he added, under his breath.
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He was looking forward to going back to coaching, but that was about all right now. It was another low time for Oliver, and he was a bit annoyed at the knock at the door that broke his persual of the latest Wizarding Sport publication.
Wini looked up from her colouring page at the knock, "Da?" she said quietly, her blue eyes round.
"I'm gettin' it, Win," he said, folding the magazine and setting it on the table. He headed to the door, peaking through the window to check and see who it was.
It was June, he saw, and Snape. With a grunt he used his wand to release the door from it's tightly charmed locks and open it.
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Upon discovering (or rediscovering) the faces of those close to her, June's first response was always to stare. To trace her eyes over every inch of their faces, the way someone who'd lived on bread and water for three years might react to being given a piece of chocolate cake, savoring every crumb. Only once that hunger was assuaged had she been able to really use her eyes for the purpose to which most people use them, and take in what she was seeing.
Not so with Oliver. Oh, she stared, and it helped that she wore her old glasses so he couldn't yet have any idea that she was staring. But what caught her attention wasn't the color of his eyes or the line of his jaw or the way his hair fell. It was the shadows under his eyes, the slight tightness of his mouth.
He looks so tired...
He didn't even smile when he opened the door. Then again, she had Severus with her, so that might have something to do with it. But part of her wanted to reach up and touch that tired face, ask him what was wrong, pester him until he talked to her and she could find a way to help.
But Severus. Right. No, best for now to pretend she hadn't noticed; he wouldn't appreciate her prying in front of the hated Professor Snape. She caught the frown forming on her face, and turned it back into a smile.
"Happy Christmas, Oliver! A bit late, but we come bearing gifts," she informed him, some worry creeping into her light tone in spite of herself. "Also-" Shifting the two packages to her left arm, she reached up. She'd been planning to surprise him, and there wasn't really much choice but to go ahead with it, but in a low-key way. He didn't seem in the mood for high excitement. "Also, I wanted to show off my favorite present to you."
She pushed the glasses up to perch on top of her head, and smiled at him.
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He leaned down to touch her hair when he realized June was still speaking. He lifted his chin up and, his heart beginning to pound he realized what was happening.
"My gods," he said, his eyes squinting at her in disbelief. He had known that this was going to happen eventually. She had told him about it, he had secretly donated money for it.. And yet it had never really occured to him that he would see her with her eyes just then.
"June!" he said, stepping forward. His mouth morphed from a frown to a grin, his eyes bright as he stared into her own. "You've got -- You've got-- Eyes." He gripped his forhead with one hand. "I didn't know it'd-- My gods.." She looked beautiful. But he couldn't tell her that. Especially not with Snape around. "How long...?" he wondered aloud. He'd had himself locked up for so long.
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Besides, he had no desire to stay while they made dove-eyes at each other! His only intent in coming now was to shamelessly use Wood's distraction to his own advantage.
As he now did.
Stepping deftly around the father, Wood having so obligingly moved forward as to leave the door perfectly accessible, Severus squatted down to eye-level with the child who was trying to keep up with her father's motion, and made an attempt to distract her from her paternal-clinging.
"Hello, Winifred," he said, managing to smile slightly. The large box tucked under his arm was the only gift he had purchased which did not end up wrapped in Slytherin green and silver. Instead, it was primarily lavender and pink, covered in a motif of teddy-bears holding balloons.
The woman at the shop had assured him it was 'just the thing' for little girls of Winifred's age.
This box, almost as large as she was - and topped with a ridiculously frilly, violently purple bow, he held out to her.
"I've brought you a present. Shall we go inside and open it?"
The box was far too heavy for the child to carry on her own, and Severus couldn't be arsed to care about the propriety of inviting himself into Wood's house. Indeed, by Severus' way of thinking, Wood ought to be pleased that Severus was both not snarking at him, and distracting his daughter, that he might enjoy a moment or two of private conversation with June.
Besides - as soon as the gift was opened and all the wee, perfectly toddler-sized potions ingredients, stirring rods, fat little pan-balance scales, and another cauldron - this one already magically charmed to be a low-heat safety-cauldron with the very intent to stimulate budding Potions interest in small children - were examined and laid out by the delighted child, there would be no question of her father taking the gift away from her, and Severus could leave with satisfaction.
The ingredients and the very simple two and three-step directions - complete with a picture-recipe book - could not be concocted into anything dangerous, no matter how combined. All successful 'potions' would yield a variety of sweets, and even 'mistakes' would be tasty - though generally of an unappealing colour or aroma.
Severus was quite delighted with himself over the thing.
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"Mine!" she said.
She stepped backwards, away from her father and into the living room that was messy with the toys she already had gotten that year.
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The detritus of Christmas was still visible - and Severus could not help but glance about the house with a critical eye. What did he care for Wood's distress over the recent Holiday past? Emotional distress was no excuse, in Severus' book, for disregard of general cleanliness and basic upkeep!
Of course, Severus did not have an active toddler to clean up after at all times, and no matter how clean the house was, in actuality, Severus would have found fault with it because of his opinion of the 'irresponsibility' of the owner.
It was work of some difficulty to navigate the way through the sitting room without stepping on this ball, those blocks, that teddy. He was pleased to note that the cauldron he had given her so long ago was still visible in the sitting room, presently with a stuffed rabbit apparently stewing within, quite forgotten in the midst of the newer objects.
Wood's perceived 'irresponsibility' now worked in his favour, however, and he cleared a space on the sofa (by moving what appeared to be a tea-party-in-progress, complete with wee teacups and a china-doll - all of which he carefully shifted aside so as not to disturb the 'tea') and sat down, setting the large box on the floor just in front of him so he could watch her open it.
"Yes, Winifred. Yours," he said, the slight smile still playing at the corners of his lips as he regarded her indulgently. "Open it."
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"Mine!" she said again. She scooted closer and banged her hands on the box. "Mine!"
She knew that it was to be opened by tearing at the paper, but her hands were a bit clumsy with the paper and she didn't quite know where to tear it. She fiddled with one edge, unable to get her chubby fingers quite into the groove of the paper, and looked up at Snape with a pleading glance. "Mine peddent," she mumured, frowning back down at the box.
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It was a shame about her unfortunate parentage, but then he knew as well as anyone that one could not alter such things.
On the other hand, the only other small child with whom he had ever interacted to any extent was Draco Malfoy. Children, by that limited experience, were always 'charming' when being catered to and given presents.
"Your present," he repeated again, though this time he recoginsed the difficulty. Pulling off the ridiculously frilly, obnoxiously purple bow, he was about to cast it aside when he recalled watching the 'girls' at Spinner's End on Christmas morning. Apparently it was accepted - and almost expected - to place such things in one's hair until the adhesive charm wore off. With a rare burst of almost-playfulness he solemnly pressed the bow into her golden curls.
Though he did dart an embarrassed glance toward the still-open door, as though afraid to be 'caught' at such frivolity.
The bow dealt with, he slipped a finger beneath the cellotape and lifted a large section of the wrapping to give her purchase to tear the rest.
"There you go, can you do the rest?"
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"Pot'n."
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Having become somewhat accustomed to the new delight of watching people he cared about open gifts he had given them during Christmas morning at Spinner's End, his smile did not fade as the child tore through the wrapping. When she could finally see the pictures on the box, he was very pleased to see how quickly she realised what it was.
"Exactly! Your very own potions. Here... I will help you."
Allowing her chubby little hands to excitedly tug and pull at the box, and laughing occasionally when she pushed his hands away, wanting to do it 'all by myself', and then helping her again when frustration threatened to ruin enjoyment, they soon had all the pieces and bits and little pots of ingredients all laid out on the coffee-table. They were all brightly coloured - and colour-coded, so that the shades of pink belonged to one 'potion' recipe, while shades of blue belonged to another and so on.
Severus was completely pleased with himself for finding something so broadly educational, age-appropriate, and which would feed whatever natural interest in potions might possibly exist.
"It makes sweets, Winifred, see?" he said, opening the child-friendly cardboard 'recipe' book and showing her how to prop it up to look at.
"If we do this one, we can make a lolly, see the picture? Or this one makes juice - you like juice, yes? And this one makes... hmmm... you might be a little too young for taffy, we had best wait until your father can be consulted for that one. Shall we make a lolly before I leave?"
He really wasn't planning to stay long - just long enough to get her completely enamoured with his 'gift' - but if Wood wasn't yet kicking him out of his house... well, he'd stay and see for himself if it worked in practise as well as it advertised on the package.
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"Lol, mine," she said. She pushed over another bottle in her excitement to try and grab the instructions and sticking her nose too closely into it. "Readin', mine." She giggled before tossing the instructions on the other side of the table. "Help, please," she said in her babyish voice, pointing at the instructions and the items. "Do mine," she lifted up the stirring stick. "Me do."
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"Of course I will help you. First, you have to set up your cauldron so it won't spill, like this. Caul-dron," he repeated the word, enunciating it slowly and deliberately as he set it flat on the table and scooted the other items a safe distance away. The cauldron would not get hot, but it would warm, and the point of this gift was to stimulate her interest in the subject. It was never too early to learn basic potions safety.
"Now. The lolly needs the pink ingredients, see? Like it shows on the page. Help me find all the pink things."
With a little nudging if she faltered, he helped her settle several little pink pots, a very skinny pink stirring-rod which would become the stick of the lolly, and three color-coded measuring cups next to the cauldron. He then showed her the case for storing and keeping her 'kit' neatly together. Upon looking about the sitting-room, this was a necessary object, lest the pieces be lost and scattered, making the toy useless.
"Before we start, we must put the things we're not using away."
At seeing her look of displeasure at the idea of tidying up, he admonished her with gentle earnestness.
"It's very important, Winifred, when you are making potions. You have to keep your work-space clean and neat so nothing gets burnt up."
So he helped her sort all the yellow pieces into the yellow cloth bag with the over-sized zipper. All the blue, green, red, orange, and violet soon followed, likewise. Each colour-coded bag fit very neatly into a multi-coloured plastic storage case designed to look like a Potions Masters valise.
Severus was newly smug at his choice of gift, and newly impressed with the cleverness of the invention. If the Weasley twins could come up with things like this, he would fell less hesitant to work with them on other projects.
"There. Now we can make your lolly."
Showing her how each measuring spoon matched the precise colour of the lid of the jar containing the ingredient it was designed to measure. Sliding over on the sofa so he was directly behind her, he opened the lids for her and helped guide little hands to hold the measuring cup over the cauldron before carefully pouring the ingredient into the measuring device, and then letting her pour the contents into the cauldron.
"Well done, Winifred," he said warmly when all the ingredients were in the little pot. It was still quite cool to touch, but would begin to heat when she began to stir. He handed her the stirring rod and cupped his hand over hers as he had done once in his lab, to help her get the feel of the rhythm of stirring.
"Slow and gentle, now," he said softly. "If we stir too fast, it won't work. See? We make circles in the potion."
They stirred gentle circles in the concoction, the cauldron slowly warming and the ingredients within making colourful spiral shapes of various shades of pink. When they were done, the lolly would look like a pin-wheel.
The chemical reaction began from the barely-warm-cauldron and the magic of cauldron and stirring rod. The liquid rapidly reduced and became thick and heavy.
"Now, Winifred - put the stirring rod in the very middle, and watch...."
This, too, he helped her do, because he was afraid she'd be over-eager and remove the rod too quickly.
"Now we wait for ten seconds - can you count to ten? One... two... three..."
He counted slowly with her, then released his hand from hers when they reached the magic number.
"There, Winifred - take out the stick - and your lolly will be on the end of it," he said with pleased anticipation.
The sweet would be much larger than the normal 'lolly', perhaps a full six centimetres in diameter, and was a swirl of many shades of pink. It already smelt cloyingly sweet, an excess of fruity-fragrance of the sort which children generally enjoyed.
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The smell of the potion had made her more excited and she proclaimed, "izbee!" a few times, reminded of her favorite treat 'fizzing whizbees.' She grabbed at the stick eagerly when Snape told her that she could and her mouth latched onto one end of it, her free hand gripping at his leg and she awkwardly climbed up and sat herself down in his lap.
"Mine wolly," she told Snape, though she did offer him the chance to take a quick lick if he so desired.
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Said fondness, however, did NOT extend to wishing to 'share' toddler-saliva, no matter how sweetly the 'offer' was made!
He did a tolerable job of concealing his grimace of disgust though, and the sweet, being quite large, was enough to conceal the truth as he pantomimed 'tasting' the treat.
"Mmmm, very tasty - well done, Winifred. You made your first potion."
Of course, nothing which ever came out of his cauldrons bore any resemblance to sweets, but the point of this exercise was to interest her in the art. She had many years to slowly learn the true beauty of the intricacies of potions.
He settled her on his lap for a few minutes while she rapturously became a sticky, gooey mess - the lollipop's being far too big to fit entirely into her mouth did not prevent her making repeated efforts at doing so, which meant in very short order her entire face was covered in sticky, pink toddler-spit.
Which naturally meant that this was a perfect time for Severus to leave and allow June her pleasant visit with the Woods' without his presence. Whatever they could have been discussing outside the door all this time was beyond him, but he didn't mind. The quarter of an hour or so had been well-spent.
Glancing toward the door as if now afraid of being 'caught', he squeezed his arms slightly around the child where she sat on his lap. NOT a HUG, of course! Surely not! He then gently deposited her on her feet.
"I must go home now, Winifred. Your 'Da' will help you make another potion later, I'm sure."
If she begged him as persistently as she seemed to do everything else! The kit was so simple, not even Longbottom could screw up the directions, so he had no fear that there would be many more sweets-making episodes now.
"I will see you at Hogwarts now and then, I'm sure. Do you remember my name? Snape."
'Severus' was much too hard for a child to pronounce, and as he wasn't (yet) her 'Professor', he wouldn't expect her to be able to say that yet, either.
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June's smile broadened at Oliver's open astonishment. Presented with his world-weary appearance when he opened the door, she'd started to worry whether her surprise would get anything like the reaction she'd hoped, but he didn't disappoint her. She stifled a laugh as he stammered, seeming at a loss for words.
"Since a bit before Christmas." It was a vague sort of answer, but she was reluctant to tell him she'd waited nearly a month to come and show him. Would it hurt his feelings that she hadn't come sooner? She'd meant to... "I've had to get used to them slowly, you know, but it's just... it's brilliant, Oliver, so much more than brilliant." Was there even a word invented that would describe the euphoria of having her sight back?
She hadn't missed Severus slipping past her to guide Wini inside, but she suspected Oliver had missed it, or had just been too distracted to object. Distracted by me? The way he continued to stare at her brought a faint tinge of pink to her cheeks. I guess I really do look different.
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