Real Magic Part IV
Real Magic
Credits as for Part I
For the wonderful, patient and long-suffering Geyer.
"Miss Granger," Saturnin hissed into Hermione's ear under cover of drawing her close to him in the dance as the music slowed. "You are without doubt the least secretive specimen that it has ever been my misfortune to see in action. Why were you ever given this assignment?"
"Well, forgive me for not having graduated spy school!" Hermione argued in a somewhat higher pitch. "Minerva sent me because I relate well to children and Muggles. It's not like you can say the same."
"Perhaps not, but Eastern Europe is not exactly littered with trained Muggle-born witches and wizards, for obvious reasons," Saturnin explained. "There are few faculty members at Durmstrang of even half-blood status. Nevertheless, at least I know that, if you want to keep a secret, you give your audience the most boring answer you can. You do not titillate them with half-truths that invite further questioning."
"What was I supposed to do?" Hermione demanded. "Lying isn't second nature to all of us, and even if I could lie to normal people, those were vampires. They would have picked up on a dozen signs that others wouldn't."
"Then I suggest that you steer clear of them for the rest of the evening." His voice was like raw silk against her ear. "Stay with those who know your secrets."
"Like you?" Hermione asked.
"Like me, like Miss Giles, like her parents and her brother," Saturnin replied. "I suggest, on the basis of your recent performance, that if anyone else comes near you, you should cultivate a burning desire to powder your nose. Now, will you damn well relax? People are supposed to believe you're enjoying yourself."
Hermione gave a tiny snort. "Did you hear what I said about not being a good liar?"
"I'm not deaf, but I think it should be within even your capabilities to put your arms around my neck, rest your face on my shoulder and sway in time to the music. I assure you that I've been told it's not an entirely unpleasant experience."
Hermione lifted her chin and met his eyes in a defiant glare, but then she did as he'd requested, even if she couldn't resist one last barb. "You know certain women will say anything if you're paying them."
She expected arrogance and anger, but instead she felt the rumble of laughter against her ear. "Touché, Madam Krum. I will remember that the kitten has grown some claws."
Strangely, after that, Hermione did find her body becoming more pliant in his embrace.
"Okay, Giles, what's the what?" Buffy demanded in her usual tactful way.
"In what context?" Giles asked in a much put-upon tone as his wife pushed a whisky tumbler into his hand and interposed herself between him and the vampires.
"Rupie, we're not brain-dead," Spike protested.
"Yeah, Giles," Angel added. "Since when do people trail half way around the world to negotiate contracts with an outlet the size of The Magic Box? Random English people, who know enough to be able to spot a vamp at first meeting, just turning up out of the blue?"
"I thought you were supposed to be retired, Watcher," Spike added. "Why's the Council snooping around?"
Anya rolled her eyes. "As if I'd invite stuffy old Watchers!" She turned briefly to her husband. "No offence, darling."
Giles scowled at the two vampires. "Believe it or not, the Council doesn't employ the entire population of England, not even all the English people who come to America."
"Look at Hugh Laurie," Anya added.
"Well, they didn't come here to sell you slug-scented candles!" Buffy argued.
"Of course not," Anya agreed. "They're here to talk to Audrey about Witch School."
"Which school?" Angel asked. "Like 'Which?' magazine? Isn't she kinda young to be picking colleges?"
"No, Witch School, with a T," Anya corrected, "or Witch Schools; they work for different ones."
"Anya, dear, I don't think you were meant to mention that to anyone outside the family," Giles said, reaching for the glasses that he wasn't wearing, and then covering by running his fingers through his hair.
"How come there are Witch Schools and this is the first I'm hearing about it?" Buffy demanded.
Anya stared flatly back at the slayer. "You never asked."
"But if there was a Witch School, wouldn't they have wanted Willow?" asked Buffy.
"Try saying that ten times fast," Spike interjected.
"Willow didn't exhibit any obvious signs of power until her mid to late teens," Anya argued. "And her mother hated magic."
"What's that got to do with it?" Angel asked.
Giles gave him a disparaging look. Not that he thought it was a completely idiotic question per se, but he'd take any opportunity Angel presented. "It matters because the American school charges for tuition and board. If a candidate's parents refused to pay their fees - and I suspect that someone who once tried to burn her own daughter at the stake might just quibble a little about paying for magic lessons - their representative would simply make the whole family forget she was ever offered a place."
"Or try to, once he gets back from wherever I teleported him to," Anya added.
They were allowed two slow songs in succession before the party music took a turn for the more upbeat.
"This," Saturnin remarked, "falls well outside the bounds of duty. Might I interest you in a drink instead?"
"Nothing alcoholic," Hermione stipulated. "A double gin and half a bottle of wine is my limit when I'm representing the school."
"As you wish. Might I recommend that you find a secluded table for two?"
Hermione's eyes flashed upward to meet Saturnin's pitch-black gaze.
"The birthday girl is opening her presents," he pointed out. "I suspect that your friendly vampires will remain in the vicinity of her and her family until the ritual is complete. Therefore, I cannot leave you with either Audrey or her parents."
"I'm not sure that there are any empty tables," Hermione admitted.
Saturnin replied with a feral grin. "Are you a teacher or aren't you?"
As the children dispersed throughout the club, Giles and Anya began to dispose of the mountain of wrapping paper that adorned the table where the family had been sitting.
"This one's from us," Spike announced, stepping forward to hand the young girl a small package wrapped in silver paper, now that she'd opened all those from her peers.
The girl beamed up at her favourite 'uncle' and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug that prompted a snort from her father. She took the gift and began to shred the wrapping paper. A rainbow of velvet ribbons spilled from the opening, and she pulled them free before tipping out an ornate heart-shaped locket to land on top of them.
The locket was about an inch and a half tall, and though it had been recently polished, the deeper recesses in the design still held a patina of age. "It's gorgeous," Audrey enthused, as she fingered the catch, and opened it up.
Anya looked less thrilled. "Where did you get that, Spike?"
"It's not stolen, if that's what you're worried about," the vampire protested. "Leastways, not from anyone that's going to complain." He turned to Audrey who was looking at the hollow interior with a slightly puzzled mien. "Not set up for photos. Sorry, pet. Think it's a bit older than that, but you can always keep a lock of hair in there when you find someone as hair you'd want to keep."
"Spike!" Giles growled.
The vampire rolled his eyes. "It was in with all that stuff that came with the Gem of Amarra. I kept a few of the nicer bits and pieces. Thought Bite-Size might be growin' out of her tomboy phase enough to appreciate it."
"Spike..." Both parents seemed to loom over the blond vampire, even though Anya wasn't as tall as he was.
"Oh, stop gettin' your knickers in a twist, Demon Girl." Spike pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one with his usual flagrant disregard for California's anti-smoking laws. "It's all been checked. Had a demon I know down in LA check all the stuff I kept for bad mojo. It's clean."
"I hope so," Giles pronounced solemnly, the tension in his body promising grave retribution if the vampire was mistaken.
Audrey selected the soft green ribbon that best matched the top she was wearing.
Seeing what she was doing, Spike took ribbon and locket from her hands and threaded the two together before he tied the pendant around her neck.
Buffy stepped forward carrying a much bulkier gift. "This one is from Oz and Willow. They're really sorry they couldn't make it, but it's their busy time of the month."
Audrey shrugged. "I guessed. You run a werewolf sanctuary, you're not going to get the night off come full moon." She undid the string and brown paper wrapping and skimmed the note that came with the gifts: a dream catcher with a wolf's head design and a pale-coloured sheepskin-like jacket with beaded embroidery in pastel pinks and blues and greens.
"Oz says the shaman Willow's been working with made the dream catcher, and they got the jacket from the trading post at Long Lake. He says the embroidery is a Dene Tha' thing. And he says don't forget our guitars when we go up there in July. That's about it." She passed the note to her father and set the dream catcher down on the table with her other gifts while she tried on the jacket.
"It's a little big," she decided before she shrugged it off again and folded it neatly on top of her stash of gifts.
Giles shook his head slightly. "It'll be fine by the time you put on a jumper or two, and it sounds as if you'll be needing those... one way or the other." His voice seemed to crack slightly on the last few words.
"Giles?" Spike raised an eyebrow and waited to see if the former Watcher was prepared to offer more information.
"Dad, if you really don't want me to go..." Audrey began.
"Darling, that's not what your father means," Anya cut in, squeezing Giles' hand as she did so. "Your father and I want you to do whatever will make you happiest. That's not to say that we won't miss you if you choose to go, but you'd be home for holidays. If you choose Hogwarts, we might even move to England."
Giles stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his daughter and pressed his lips to the top of her head.
"Da-a-ad," Audrey sighed resignedly, but she made no effort to extricate herself from his arms.
"You're growing up and sooner or later you're going to leave your poor old dad behind. If it isn't now, it'll be when you go off to college, and that's the way it's meant to be. I might wish you could wait until you're a little older, but if you pass on this opportunity now, you won't get a second chance. You have to decide if it's something you want, not me, not your mother. And if you try it and it's not for you... your room will be waiting for you."
Audrey squeezed her father more tightly and lifted her head to look him in the eye. "You're the best, Dad."
"Just be happy," Giles whispered, so that Audrey had to read his lips rather than hear the words through the music that permeated the club. "And write at least twice a week," he added more loudly.
Anya positively beamed at her little family as father and daughter finally drew apart. She took Giles' hand and stood on tip-toe to brush her lips to his cheek. "I'm so proud of you," she said for his ears alone, her dark brown eyes gleaming as she drew him away from the group toward a roped-off stairway.
"Mo-o-om!" Robert protested. "We're in public." He rolled his eyes and headed off for the corner where his friends were congregated.
"Hey!" Angel protested. "I haven't given her my present yet?"
"Is it jewellery?" Giles asked, drawing Anya to a brief stop.
Angel blushed at the reminder of the gift he had given Buffy when he first started to keep an eye on her. "What?" he stuttered.
"Watcher wants to know if you're going to go all stalkery on his little girl like you did with the Slayer when she was jailbait," Spike translated. "Seems like a reasonable question to me!"
"Shut up, Spike!" Angel muttered.
"Too close to the truth, huh?"
"No. Look, it's just- It's not that sort of gift."
Anya tugged again at Giles' hand. "Angel, you don't need an audience. Just give her the gift," she said. "Spike, we're borrowing your office. When we come down, I want some music that Giles and I can dance to."
Angel pulled a box about the right size and shape to hold a bottle of wine from his coat pocket with a disgruntled sigh. "Here," he said as he graciously handed it over. "Spike said you were into all that Egyptian crap."
Audrey had barely slid the statuette of a woman with a cat's head free of its wrapping when the DJ put on the timeless classic, 'Jump Around' by House of Pain. Audrey shoved the statuette on the table with more speed than care and grabbed Spike's hand.
Spike tossed Buffy a playful glance and let himself be towed into the middle of a crowd of pogo-ing eleven-year-olds.
Angel stood next to Buffy in embarrassed silence for several seconds before he knocked back the contents of his glass. "So, do you want another drink?"
"You couldn't even intimidate a couple of kids into getting up?" Saturnin asked as he passed Hermione another glass of grape juice.
"Did it ever occur to you that I might not be comfortable with that?" Hermione responded. "If you hadn't forbidden me to speak to anyone, I might have gone about things another way."
"Or we could sit over there?" He nodded toward the corner booth piled with gifts. He held out his arm and Hermione curled her free hand around the crook of his elbow. His arm gave her additional support as she strolled over to the table on three-inch heels.
Hermione slid into the seat, moving far enough along to leave room for Saturnin to sit at her side before she took a sip of her drink.
His thigh brushed hers as he took the seat, but he pulled back immediately.
Hermione resisted the urge to slide toward him, rearranging the amorphous heap of gifts into tidy piles to make more room.
Saturnin's lips quirked as he pulled 'Hogwarts: An Updated History' from the heap. "I should have known."
"It gives her more information than we could possibly give her in an interview, and she can assimilate it at her own speed. If we can plant a seed..." Hermione suggested.
"Oh, I agree, but don't you think that this violates the spirit of our non-competition agreement?"
Hermione gave him a mischievous smile. "I didn't happen to have a history of Durmstrang in my bag. I'm sure you can arrange to send her a copy, if you're so inclined."
"I might. Perhaps I should send one to your son, too?"
"You're welcome to, but I don't think it would change Dimi's mind. He knows Viktor preferred Hogwarts. It just depends how much he wants to get away from me," Hermione admitted.
"Durmstrang has changed since Viktor's day," Saturnin said.
"I know," Hermione said. "You've made real headway. You've brought Muggle-borns into the system. You've managed to talk the various Ministries into giving you funding for more teachers, but the building was never designed to hold so many people."
She gave him a sad smile. "They'll approve revenue funding, but no-one wants to pay for more classrooms and more living quarters. The former Russian Ministry won't chip in unless Bulgaria, Poland, the Czechs, the Slovaks, the Slovenians and everyone else come to a mutual agreement, and that's not going to happen any time soon. They might, but they're afraid. They don't want to spend a goblin's ransom to expand the facilities, for the next guy to come along and go back to the pureblood line. Some do it out of pragmatism and some are motivated by prejudice, but it amounts to the same thing. You've raised a fair bit in donations from former pupils, but your physical expansion program won't catch up with pupil numbers anytime soon. Until it does, you have overcrowded dormitories and teachers sharing classrooms and offices."
"You have been doing your homework," Saturnin drawled.
"He's my son," Hermione replied. "He might not want to go to school where I teach, but if he decides to go to Durmstrang, it will be an informed decision."
"Then you should know that your assessment sounds far worse than the reality. Much of the castle has been magically expanded. It's not an ideal situation, but some would say reinforcing the spells periodically provides work for otherwise idle hands." Saturnin gave a wry grimace.
Hermione gave a snort of disbelief. "I can't imagine you having the patience to be idle."
Severus inclined his head and took a sip from his tumbler of amber liquid. "Have you considered that if he chooses Durmstrang it might not be because of you? He might want to feel closer to his father."
"He might," Hermione conceded, "and attending Durmstrang would make him feel less like he's losing that side of his heritage." She shook her head as if trying to clear it. "Let's talk about something else. It's not like I would be any worse off than every other witch whose son goes away to school."
Saturnin seemed to hesitate for a moment before he gave a nod. "At worst, you would have the advantage of being personally acquainted with his headmaster."
"Just acquainted?" Hermione teased.
Severus's brows drew together. "For now. It may take me a little time to reconcile the unholy trinity of Jean duBois, Gryffindor know-it-all and-"
Hermione caught her lower lip beneath her teeth to stop a sigh escaping her lips as his sin-black eyes brazenly catalogued every physical feature from the tip of her head on down until the table hid her thighs from view and then equally slowly travelled back up to pause at that captured lip before meeting her own.
"And?" she asked with a tremor of trepidation.
His lips curved into a leisurely smile, one eyebrow quirked briefly upward, and he picked up both their inexplicably empty glasses and slid from the booth with his customary sinuous grace.
"Penny for them."
Hermione started visibly, drawn from her contemplations. Her gaze switched from the enigma at the crowded bar to the young girl who was taking the seat opposite her. "Nothing worth sharing."
"Nothing worth sharing, or nothing worth sharing with an eleven-year-old?" Audrey asked gently.
"Nothing suitable for a birthday, though since I could become your teacher the other might apply, too," Hermione admitted.
Audrey snorted as she sorted through the debris beside her on the seat until she found a large carrier bag. "Have you seen my parents together? You can't grow up in a house with the two of them and not be able to recognise the signs. You were staring straight at him and I've seen enough of those smiles."
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes as she knelt on her seat to make it easier to help the girl pack her presents into the bag. "I wasn't thinking about him."
Audrey gave her a sceptical look.
"No, really. I was thinking about my husband." Hermione picked up the Egyptian statuette, planning to replace it in its box before she packed it away, but before she even worked out why, she found herself frowning.
"Ah. So you have your very own Księcia?"
'If only.' Hermione finally put her finger literally and figuratively on what was bothering her. The asymmetrical glyphs should have faced in a uniform direction, but they didn't. The designers had probably just chosen glyphs at random. "Not any more. I was just wondering what Viktor would have been like as he grew older."
"A bit like Doctor Księcia?" Audrey suggested.
"No!" Hermione burst out, finally lifting her eyes from the figure and returning it to its box before she added it to the bag. "Okay, well, maybe a bit. One of my friends used to call Viktor Snape-Lite, but that was just his idea of a joke. I mean on a superficial level, there are some physical similarities, and Viktor was very intelligent and I suppose neither of them were ever exactly gregarious, but Viktor was only a few years older than I am and..." Hermione's description ended with a wistful sigh. The words just didn't exist to tell someone who hadn't known him just how different from his public persona Viktor could be within the shelter of the family unit. She gave a small shrug. "He loved me and he loved our sons." That was the true difference for which no amount of similarities could ever compensate. "He put up walls as far as most of the world was concerned, but he was different with us."
"Maybe Doctor Księcia would be different in private, too?" the girl suggested slyly. "And a bit of an age difference isn't the end of the world." She nodded toward where her parents were dancing a salsa or some other dance Hermione couldn't identify to 'La Vida Loca'. "Mom's always said that Dad was the best thing that ever happened to her, and I'm guessing you and Mom are about the same age and Dad maybe has a couple of years on your doctor."
Hermione sighed. "This isn't the sort of discussion we should be having."
"I'm not a pupil at either of your schools, yet."
"Nevertheless... He wouldn't appreciate it. Not only that; it's a pointless discussion," Hermione argued. "And it isn't just his age. Doctor Księcia used to be my teacher. It would never work."
"Dad was Mom's high school librarian. Same thing."
"He w-what?" Hermione sputtered.
"Dad was the librarian at Mom and Buffy's high school. That was his cover so he could do his watcher thing without getting locked up for hanging around school playgrounds. I mean Mom was about twenty-three or twenty-four before they started dating. They didn't go out when she was at school, but you're no schoolgirl either."
"No, I'm old enough to know things are never as easy as you make them sound," Hermione said. She picked up the dream catcher, examining the detail on the carved wolf head. "Even if we wish they were."
"We don't use that word." Audrey's serious expression surprised Hermione.
"What word?"
"Wish. We never wish. Not out loud. Bad things can happen if you wish."
When Saturnin returned to the table, all the gifts had been cleared away and consigned to a selection of bags at the far end of the booth. He resumed his seat at Hermione's side, inclining his head toward Audrey as he did so. "We haven't actually been introduced."
"Doctor Saturnin Księcia," Hermione began. "Miss Audrey Giles, but if you plan to look him up in that book, you'll find him under Professor Severus Snape, Order of Merlin."
"Third class," Saturnin added cynically.
"What does that mean?" Audrey asked.
"It means he was only ever given a fraction of the appreciation he deserved. The Order of Merlin is British wizarding society's highest honour, but there are three tiers of recognition-"
"Third class being the lowest. Professor Krum holds an Order of Merlin, First Class. You'll find her listed under Insufferable Know-It-All."
Hermione's jaw dropped open at the cruel words, but then she saw that his lips had not thinned into a disdainful line, nor had his eyes the cold gleam she'd once known. "I think, Doctor, that you'll find that's only in your copy. In everyone else's, I'm listed under my maiden name as Hermione Granger."
Audrey grinned. "I'm going to leave you two alone before he starts pulling your braids literally instead of metaphorically. I hope you'll both be able to visit with me and my family tomorrow after school. I should have read at least some of that book by then, and I think Dad will be a bit more receptive."
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Giles," Saturnin rose and gave a curt bow as the girl left her seat.
The girl's eyes darted all too knowingly between Saturnin and Hermione before she answered, "Likewise."
As the girl was swallowed up in a crowd of similarly coltish pre-adolescents, Hermione kept her eyes fixed on the dark, polished granite finish of the table top. "Were you?"
"What answer would you like?" Saturnin purred.
"An honest one."
Music blared through the P.A. system, but at the table, neither so much as breathed.
"You invaded my privacy. I thought a modicum of charm would repulse you more effectively than any protests," Saturnin finally admitted.
"Oh!" Hermione rose to her feet. "In that case, if you'll excuse me..."
"Sit down, Hermione. You asked for honesty."
"Let me out. I won't stay where I'm not wanted!"
With a tug on her arm he pulled her back down to her seat and used just enough pressure to hold her there. "I expected you to regard me either as the subject of one of your crusades or as a subject for potential gossip between you and your erstwhile friends. However, you did not react as the rather prissy young girl I remembered would have done."
"It's called growing up. I doubt that the Severus Snape I knew had much in common with the one who was a pupil at Hogwarts."
Saturnin arched an eyebrow but decided to save that discussion for another time. "I admit that my preconceptions were erroneous. I had no more wish to be treated like some tragic hero than I had to play the Death Eater I once was, and so I responded as a man. When I realised that you were not intimidated, my curiosity was piqued. You have matured into a woman who is not completely devoid of charm. Your published works show that you have finally learned to use your intellect rather than regurgitate the words of others by rote. I decided to see where events might lead."
"I see," Hermione answered coolly. "Now if you'd remove your arm and get out of my way, I would like to use the bathroom."
Hermione stormed through the door, looking desperately for something satisfying to kick. Unfortunately, the only potential candidates that wouldn't result in a broken toe were a couple of Audrey's friends. "Damn the man!" she muttered under her breath as she pushed into one of the stalls and locked the door behind her.
She fingered her wand, wishing that she could Untransfigure the jeans she had loaned Severus without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. It would almost be worth Obliviating everyone in the club to cut off circulation to those man-bits, better still if they cut off his wedding tackle altogether. Pity that he would probably just transfigure them back in two seconds flat.
Tears of frustration overflowed and the air around her tingled with errant magic like the precursor of a thunderstorm. She had thought that Saturnin was her friend, had hoped that he might even become more, but underneath he was just Severus Snape, bitter, twisted, misanthropic, all with good reason, and also a complete bastard. How could she have ever forgotten that? How could she ever have thought that Severus "I see no difference" Snape might actually like her? Six years of first-hand experience, and she'd forgotten it all in a day, falling for his manipulation. He hadn't reinvented himself after the war. He'd just found a new mask.
He was no Viktor, with a heart that was loyal and generous, hidden under a brusque exterior.
Mad as she was at him, it was nothing to how pissed off she was at herself for wanting to believe. The sooner she could have that chat with Audrey and her parents tomorrow, the sooner she could go home to the only men who mattered, her boys.
The air in the stall swirled around her, tugging at the strands of her sophisticated coiffure in eddies that defied the air conditioning system. She leaned over the toilet to press all ten fingertips to the gleaming tile of the load-bearing wall in an effort to 'earth' the power coruscating from them in opalescent shades, until with an effort of will, she drew her magic back under her control.
Spent, she took a seat, elbows on knees, chin in hands, feeling as alienated and alone as she had when she had skipped her first Hogwarts Halloween feast.