Cobwebs of the Past (1 - 6)
Title: Cobwebs of the Past
Team Name: The Order
Word Count: (6 x 100)
Rating: PG
Challenge: Family Visit
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Eileen Snape
Her fingertips traced the name on the silver Christening cup. It was barely visible through years of tarnish and neglect: Severus Tobias Snape.
She’d found it in the top corner of the rusted steel kitchen cabinet while helping Severus to pack up at Spinner’s End.
He never spoke of his family. When she broached the topic, his posture stiffened and his expression shuttered - the studied indifference she so despised.
“The past is just that, Hermione.”
Her attempts at discussing the war years were answered similarly.
She jumped at the insistent, high-pitched whine of the wizard-proximity charm - an unexpected visitor approached.
sSs
She picked up her wand from atop the Daily Prophet - 'Heroes of the newly-ended war', the headline proclaimed.
The living room was even dingier now - the empty bookshelves intensified the aura of neglect. Soon, they would be finished here, and starting a new life in a home that was bright and warm.
A tentative knock at the door startled Hermione, despite the fact that she’d expected it. She didn’t like being here alone while Severus moved the boxes. There were sinister memories that lurked in the shadowed corners, it seemed.
She opened the door a crack, and her eyes widened.
sSs
Her hair was wispy-white, but the heavy brows and ebony eyes were unmistakable.
Eileen Snape.
The years had weathered the woman; despite being in her early sixties, she looked infinitely older. Her skin was not pallid, but had the fragile, age-cracked appearance of antique bone china.
The Daily Prophet was clutched in spidery, age-spotted hands.
“I’m sorry, I was hoping that Severus Snape still owned this house,” she said, sounding relieved and regretful all at once.
“He does,” Hermione said, with an apprehensive smile. “He’s not here at the moment, but he’ll be back soon. Please, come in, Mrs. Snape.”
sSs
In contrast to her son, Eileen’s posture was stooped and weary, as though the weight of a lifetime of hardship pressed them forward.
She stepped into the living-room, and stopped dead in her tracks. Her dark eyes scanned the bleak room, taking in the details as if she’d never it before.
She shook her head slightly, as though realising that she’d been drawn into the shadows of the past. “I apologise - it has been many years …”
Hermione nodded and gestured to the sagging sofa and worn armchair. “Please, sit, Mrs. Snape. Would you like some tea while we wait?”
sSs
Hermione conjured a tea tray, which settled on the rickety table; she’d packed all the kitchen crockery away that morning.
She glanced up to see that Eileen was regarding her with the same inscrutable look that Severus had sometimes; it was disconcerting to see it on her face.
She was apprehensive about being faced with the woman who Severus refused to speak of - what would he say when he returned?
Why had Eileen Snape returned?
“How do you know my son, young lady?” she asked, accepting a cup of tea. The cup rattled on the saucer, echoing Hermione’s jangling nerves.
sSs
Hermione blushed. “Sorry, forgive my rudeness; I was surprised to see you. My name is Hermione Granger - I - er - worked with Severus during the war.”
Eileen glanced down at the crumpled paper on her lap. “Ah, yes, there you are … a war hero as well,” her thin voice cracked a little, “like Severus.”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, the wizarding world owes your son so much.”
Eileen’s lips pressed together for a moment, although this did not hide their tremble entirely. “And I owe him an apology … a lifetime’s worth of apologies, really,” she said, with infinite sadness and regret.
TBC...
Team Name: The Order
Word Count: (6 x 100)
Rating: PG
Challenge: Family Visit
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Eileen Snape
Her fingertips traced the name on the silver Christening cup. It was barely visible through years of tarnish and neglect: Severus Tobias Snape.
She’d found it in the top corner of the rusted steel kitchen cabinet while helping Severus to pack up at Spinner’s End.
He never spoke of his family. When she broached the topic, his posture stiffened and his expression shuttered - the studied indifference she so despised.
“The past is just that, Hermione.”
Her attempts at discussing the war years were answered similarly.
She jumped at the insistent, high-pitched whine of the wizard-proximity charm - an unexpected visitor approached.
sSs
She picked up her wand from atop the Daily Prophet - 'Heroes of the newly-ended war', the headline proclaimed.
The living room was even dingier now - the empty bookshelves intensified the aura of neglect. Soon, they would be finished here, and starting a new life in a home that was bright and warm.
A tentative knock at the door startled Hermione, despite the fact that she’d expected it. She didn’t like being here alone while Severus moved the boxes. There were sinister memories that lurked in the shadowed corners, it seemed.
She opened the door a crack, and her eyes widened.
sSs
Her hair was wispy-white, but the heavy brows and ebony eyes were unmistakable.
Eileen Snape.
The years had weathered the woman; despite being in her early sixties, she looked infinitely older. Her skin was not pallid, but had the fragile, age-cracked appearance of antique bone china.
The Daily Prophet was clutched in spidery, age-spotted hands.
“I’m sorry, I was hoping that Severus Snape still owned this house,” she said, sounding relieved and regretful all at once.
“He does,” Hermione said, with an apprehensive smile. “He’s not here at the moment, but he’ll be back soon. Please, come in, Mrs. Snape.”
sSs
In contrast to her son, Eileen’s posture was stooped and weary, as though the weight of a lifetime of hardship pressed them forward.
She stepped into the living-room, and stopped dead in her tracks. Her dark eyes scanned the bleak room, taking in the details as if she’d never it before.
She shook her head slightly, as though realising that she’d been drawn into the shadows of the past. “I apologise - it has been many years …”
Hermione nodded and gestured to the sagging sofa and worn armchair. “Please, sit, Mrs. Snape. Would you like some tea while we wait?”
sSs
Hermione conjured a tea tray, which settled on the rickety table; she’d packed all the kitchen crockery away that morning.
She glanced up to see that Eileen was regarding her with the same inscrutable look that Severus had sometimes; it was disconcerting to see it on her face.
She was apprehensive about being faced with the woman who Severus refused to speak of - what would he say when he returned?
Why had Eileen Snape returned?
“How do you know my son, young lady?” she asked, accepting a cup of tea. The cup rattled on the saucer, echoing Hermione’s jangling nerves.
sSs
Hermione blushed. “Sorry, forgive my rudeness; I was surprised to see you. My name is Hermione Granger - I - er - worked with Severus during the war.”
Eileen glanced down at the crumpled paper on her lap. “Ah, yes, there you are … a war hero as well,” her thin voice cracked a little, “like Severus.”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, the wizarding world owes your son so much.”
Eileen’s lips pressed together for a moment, although this did not hide their tremble entirely. “And I owe him an apology … a lifetime’s worth of apologies, really,” she said, with infinite sadness and regret.
TBC...