Homecoming - A Snagrid Tale
Title: Homecoming
Author: A.C.I.D
Pairing: Snape/Hagrid
Rating: PG/PG-13
Word Count: 3148
Feedback: Yes. Constructive criticism is what I like.
Beta: Hannah!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling had me falling in love with Snape and Hagrid, and sylvadin's Snagrid universe sparked my muse esp. the ever witty Healer (MATTY!) Blaylock and adorable Nifflers!
A/N: This oneshot is inspired by sylvadin's wonderful series Courtship and Tango. I recommend reading both series before diving into this story because I reference to a few events that happened and I don't want to SPOIL anything for anyone.
This story takes place during the Autumn following the last events in A Blessed Event (http://sylvadin.livejournal.com/55998.html) BEWARE OF FLUFF!
****************************************************************
“This is completely ridiculous.”
“Quit yer grumblin'. We're almost there.”
‘Almost there’ felt like it had been hours since a certain gamekeeper and potions master side-along apparated to a clearing in the Forbidden Forest. They were in pursuit this late Saturday morning of the elusive fairybell bush whose flowers might enhance a modified dreamless potion Severus was developing. The petals and pollen were known to incite euphoric dreams when directly ingested. Hagrid had claimed to have spotted the budding plant during one of his many trips into the Forest which, Severus noted, he seemed to be visiting at a higher rate than usual. Well, at this point, Hagrid probably was mistaken and this excursion would only produce sore feet or a sore pelvis in Severus' case. The potions master cursed as he stumbled over a hidden forest vine for what might have been the 20th time. He pulled his black cloak tighter around his slim frame as a sudden gust of autumn wind swirled around them, causing his knees to creak a little every step he took. Damn Voldemort and that stupid curse of his. May his obliterated soul stay that way for eternity and beyond. So mote it be.
Another shiver flew down his spine but this time from the tingle of magicked wards. The smell of burning wood immediately assaulted his sensitive nose. His hand instinctively sought for familiar ebony wood, hidden within the folds of the billowy cloak. Dark eyes quickly scanned their surroundings. Shoulders tensed, preparing to face the unknown as they rounded a bend in the uneven path. Mind and body always battle ready though the war had ended nearly five months ago.
Caught up in his surveillance, Severus failed to realize Hagrid had come to a stop, emitting a light 'oomph' as his face collided with the soft solidness of Hagrid's broad moleskin-covered back. A large warm hand steadied the shorter wizard's stance.
“Alright there?” Hagrid asked softly, a touch of nervousness in his voice. “Well, we're here.”
Severus followed the line of the gamekeeper’s large finger to see stone steps surrounded by large bushes of green foliage but nothing that hinted of fairybells.
“Exactly where are we, Hagrid? Because those are common bushes. Fairybells are much more miniature in size.” He tried to keep the harshness out of his voice but the slow pressure of a mounting headache made it difficult.
“They're inside,” Hagrid paused to take a calming but slightly shaky breath, “our house. Our home.”
“What are you talk...oh." Severus' eyes widened as he realized what exactly those stone steps were attached to, half-hidden behind those 'common' bushes.
Home was a modestly sized stonemason cottage that sat cozily between two grand oak trees whose brightly colored leaves painted the ground in a beautiful replica of an Regency era piece. The navy blue shingled roof tiles glittered like waves of a gently lapping sea underneath the rays of the October sun. Small clouds of smoke lazily streamed out from a single chimney stack. Below one of the towering oaks, a small garden of herbs - basic potions ingredients, Severus quickly discerned - peeked around the front from the back corner of the cottage. Thin flowering vines clung to polished blue-gray stone walls, outlining simple white-washed window frames and shutters before slithering up to rest upon the roof like gardens snakes basking on heated rocks. A tall door, wide enough to allow Hagrid's girth easy passage, stood out amongst the more modest fixtures. The deep forest green paint looked almost black in the shade of the overhanging trees. Etched into the painted wood was an elaborate motif of curves and lines, glowing a pale gold color even within the shadows. The golden swirled patterns gathered and swelled forming an ornate egg-shaped doorknob. It felt as if it were a doorway to another world. A world called Home.
Hagrid shifted nervously from foot to foot at the intense inspection of the small house. “I know it ain’t much but I thought it’d be nice ter ‘ave a place o’ our own. Away from the school fer, yeh know, privacy an’ whatnot. ”
Severus tore his eyes away from admiring the blood drop white leaves of the “Debauched Virgin” flowers swaying along the edge of the garden to see the slump shoulders and dejected fidgeting of his half-giant companion. Usually cold and calculating eyes took on a soft and gentle gaze. Potion stained fingers stretched to cup a bearded cheek. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
A quick but firm kiss punctuated the sentiment. Hagrid preened under the loving gestures of his usually reserved husband. His bright smile turned to worry lines at the faint frown that returned to his Severus’ face.
“If yeh don’ like it, Sev’rus, it’s -”
“No, no. Truly, I love it.” The groundskeeper beamed even brighter at the rare use of the L-word. Severus, face flushed with pink, crossed his arms loosely in front of his chest, clearing his throat before continuing. “Yes…well, I am simply at a loss to where you found the time a - and the necessary funds to build all of … this.” Severus waved languidly in the general direction of the stone house.
Severus heavily sighed inwardly; lips drawn into a small scowl. He despised the enforced poverty he was currently facing brought upon by the Ministry mandated Re-appropriation. The bittersweet reality of surviving a maniacal tyrant and finding an amazing lifelong partner only to realize that one could not live on merely hope and good intentions caused his hips to ache and his knees to cramp in pain. No matter how much that meddling old fool or even the Potter boy bleated his heroisms, to many he shall always be an evil Death Eater.
Strong arms gently encircled Severus, pulling him from his dark thoughts. He rested his head against a thick muscled chest, concentrating on the steady loud thumps of a too kind heart. Home.
“Quit with all tha’ frettin’ an’ worrin’,” Hagrid gently chided. “Really, it weren’t tha’ bad seein’ as we jus’ added onto Weird Wanda’s hut.”
Severus pulled back slightly from his warm cocoon; both dark brows perched up high near his hairline.
“The old hedgewitch?” Severus asked incredulously while his sharp eyes scanned the façade of the house, searching for any hint of the hedgewitch’s former dwelling. But it was for naught as he was preoccupied with more pressing matters during his previous visit (recovering from being on the brink of death, for one) to exert any real effort in committing details of the once tiny stone shack to memory.
He felt Hagrid shrug. His sturdy chest trembled with deep rumbles as Hagrid hummed in affirmation. “I reckon’ tha’ nobody would care ter go this deep in ter Forest. Won’ be catchin’ too many noses snoopin’ where they're not s’pose ter be.”
A particularly strong whip of October wind gave Severus an excuse to snug - nestle further into those strong, warm arms that kept the monsters at bay. “With the money bit…well I didn’ really spend much ‘cause most o’ the materials came from the Forest. An’ few of the lads from town owed me a favor or two so I weren’t doin’ too much haulin’ an’ hammerin’ on me own. Oh, an’ some o’ the Professors an’ Headmistress helped too, 'specially with the wards so we won’ ‘ave ter worry about any creatures sneakin’ in.”
“Is there anyone else I need to owl Thank-You notes to?” came the muffled, sarcastic reply.
“Couple o’ the Weasleys pitched in here an’ there.”
Hagrid chuckled at the half-hearted groan. “Come on now, let’s get yeh inside so yeh can ‘ave a proper look 'round.”
Large hands guided the potion master up the expanded stone steps to cross over the threshold of their new house. Home.
Severus paused at the as-wide-as-it-was-tall door, long pale fingers ghosting over the rune symbols for protection, feeling the pulse of the living magic. “Professor Dumbledore was the one ter do tha’.”
Hagrid’s eyes widened then squeezed shut in regret. He mentally kicked himself at the slip of tongue. “Ah, I shouldn’ ‘ave said tha’. ‘E didn’ want yeh ter know seein’ as yeh both still ain’t on the best o’ terms.”
And that is how it shall stay, Severus bitterly thought. A few gifts and apologies could not easily erase years of forced servitude and weak lemon scented words that irritated rather than soothed deeply embedded nightmarish memories. He drew his wand, running the tip over the doorknob in purposeful sideways strokes, murmuring a string of incantations. He re-sheathed his wand, scowling in disapproval when the readings came back negative for any superfluous extras.
“I hope you were attentive enough to ensure he placed only the necessary protection runes and nothing of a surreptitious nature.”
“If yeh mean bein’ sneakier than a jarvey after gnomes then the Headmistress is a kneazle with a taste fer jarvies.” Hagrid winked with a bit of an evil smirk. Severus felt a rush of pride at his husband’s flash of Slytherin- ness.
With that Severus reached out slowly, hesitantly, to grasp the golden knob, hand trembling slightly in a mixture of excitement and apprehension. A soft click and swoosh of the forest green door revealed gleaming wood floors and thick rafters wedged high in sturdy stone. Severus was scarcely aware of the door shutting behind him and his cloak being removed as he edged further into the welcoming space. The entire room was bathed in a warm glow from a low banked fire crackling and popping gaily in an enormous stone hearth which took up most of the western wall. Fang’s basket was nestled near the grate in a familiar manner. A beautifully carved Niffler House (the original was destroyed in the hut fire) stood close by; the usual rustlings absent as the Hogwarts’ Niffler family and Fang were currently being spoiled by a group of Third Year Hufflepuffs back at the castle. Two mismatched chairs reclined contentedly before the fire unaware of the room’s other occupants. Severus instantly recognized that the darkest of the pair and the ornate red rug lying beneath the chairs’ feet were from his long-since-seized home.
“Ha - How were you able to retrieve them?” Severus voice wavered with mixed emotions as he gripped the worn leather back of the overstuffed chair.
Hagrid hesitated, starting and stopping twice before murmuring a reply.
“Professor Dumbledore an’ ‘Arry helped me get a few o’ yer things when the Ministry were ‘avin’ tha’ estate sell o’ yer house.” He grimaced, waiting for the blow up but the sound of leather straining beneath a white-knuckled death grip was all he got in response.
Hagrid quickly searched the room trying to find a distraction for the stifling tension. Something through one of the rear windows of the cottage caught his eyes causing them sag to in relief then spark with excitement, twinkling brightly behind dark black-brown eyes. He skillfully unhinged Severus’ hands and then clutching one in his own, led the stubborn potions master past an agape door on the left that showed a glimpse of a large bed. Severus barely registered the basket of fairybells resting on top of Hagrid’s knotted wooden table before being pulled through a plain rear door into a very green back area. The gamekeeper hurried down a neatly trimmed stepping-stone path with Severus in tow, coming to a stop in front of a windowless, rectangular, much-larger-than-a-shed structure. The stones of its walls matched those of the cottage. The building’s door was solid cast-iron rather than wood with no visible runes on its face or even a door handle.
Hagrid loosened his grip allowing Severus to snatch back his hand, placing it within the folds of his clothed armpit to stave off the coolness of the Fall air. Hagrid returned the shooting glares with twinkling eyes full of mischief that reminded Severus sourly of the Barmy-Old-Coot-Who-Should-Be-Ignored.
“Matty told me a little secret of yers. Well more than one but most’ve ‘em I already know,” Hagrid smirked playfully at the expressionless potions master.
Only a twitch of an eye betrayed Severus’ embarrassment as he remembered the foolish mistake he made two months ago by joining the aforementioned healer for a drink in celebration of his clean bill of health. Severus ended up totally smashed, spouting off complete nonsense in the process. Damn Blaylock and his wily ways. Thinking of Blaylock, Severus still needed to firecall the man to see if he was coming by tomorrow for their biweekly research exchange or Tea ‘n’ Bitch as Poppy so eloquently called it.
“Ah, don’t give us tha’ look. ‘E just said somethin’ about yeh wantin’ ter take on an apprentice or two ter teach ‘em all yeh know about potions ‘stead o’ -,” Hagrid’s voice then took on a wonderful imitation of Snape’s drawl, “- unappreciative dunderheaded brats.”
“So I built this.” And with that, Hagrid unceremoniously took up Snape’s right hand, placing it on the center of the door. The iron door swung open on hidden hinges and Hagrid nudged Severus over the threshold into a replica of Severus’ office at Hogwarts sans the damp and dreary atmosphere.
Any protests about being manhandled died in the back of Severus’ throat as he took in the beautiful view before him. A mahogany stained desk and chair set matched well with the backdrop of floor to ceiling built-in bookcases that lined most of the office's wall. They were crammed with books from the library of his sold childhood home. Off to the side was a regular sized fireplace with what could have been the sisters of his favorite black reading chair sitting nobly in front of the unlit hearth; a dark mahogany side table rested in between them.
Severus let himself be guided through another iron door which revealed a knee-weakening sight. A fully stocked potions lab, big enough to fit three people comfortably (four, if they were feeling particularly friendly), gleamed and sparkled like a brand new broomstick or a Muggle vehicle under the bright witchlight. A ginormous wooden cabinet with clear glass inlays took up most of the back wall. It contained rows upon rows of different sized specimen jars and phials, many already filled with grotesque pickled ingredients. Several low crouching cupboards, baring a wide variety of cauldrons, stirrers, scales, and other necessary tools for the ever busy Potions Master, were spread out around the edges of the room. Two long and sturdy workroom tables stood in the center; wizarding versions of Bunsen burners occupied their surfaces. It was the room of his dreams. It was everything that he wanted and more. It was...too much. He needed - wanted...just... Hagrid caught him as he staggered; setting him down on one of the benches that lined the entrance wall. Severus pried open the first few buttons of his high collared robe as the room's temperature swelled, or maybe it was just him. He was too old for big shocks and surprises like this.
“Much too old for this.” His voice broke with a whisper of a sob. He dug the heel of his palms into his eyes trying to stave off the prickling sensation of tears.
Hagrid did not respond, afraid that he would start blubbering. He let his hands do the talking: gathering up the smaller man into his arms then gently began threading his fingers through raven feathered hair. He roughly swiped away the few tears that betrayed his brave front as he felt the small trembles of barely contained sobs against his chest. After a long moment of silence peppered with soft weepy sniffles, Severus sluggishly extracted himself from Hagrid’s arms, giving the offered handkerchief a mock-glare before taking it to scrub away any traces of un-Slytherin behavior.
“Merlin, I’m turning into an overemotional Hufflepuff,” Severus sneered though the usual sarcastic bite was notably absent.
“Nah. Jus’ an over’motional Slytherin.”
Severus gave his chuckling husband a huffy glare, quelling the juvenile urge to stick out his tongue. He looked around the potions lab once more. He had so many questions brewing in his mind but he shook his head to fling them aside, squeezing Hagrid's hand tightly in silent thanks. A light pressure of a kiss upon the top of his head showed that Hagrid understood. He rested his head on his loving husband's arm, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of happiness.
A sudden sharp chirping sound had both men jerking up in alarm. Hagrid recovered first, realizing what the annoying chiming was. He patted Severus’ knee, reassuring the tense man that it was the wards on the fireplace alerting them that someone was firecalling. He left to answer the call while Severus explored the - his lab further. Hagrid returned moments later to find the devoted Potions Master, refastened buttons and all, rearranging the ingredients cabinet. A Self-Writing Quill was skittering back and forth on a long sheet of parchment as Severus muttered to himself
“Who was it that was firecalling?” Severus asked, sniffing an open jar of rose colored goo before recapping then returning it to its proper place on the shelf.
“Poppy. Had ter give her the password ter come through the main fireplace. Didn' know it were tha' close ter noon,” Hagrid muttered that last part more to himself.
Severus paused in his task giving Hagrid's smiling face a suspicious side glance. “And what, pray tell, is the reason for Poppy's sudden visit?”
“For the housewarmin' party, o' course.”
Hagrid shrugged at Severus' blank stare, mouth curved in a teasing grin. “Would yeh 'ave liked a surprise one, then?”
Severus' resigned sigh and eye roll spoke clearly of what he thought but he swiftly placed all the unorganized jars back into cabinet, grabbed the quill to make a quick notation, then waving his wand in a complex motion, set a ward against any thefts. He strode towards the outer door, pausing to give Hagrid a pointed look, a small pleased smile clashed with his trademark brow raise.
“Well, I am certainly not going in there alone. Merlin knows there is at least four Weasleys trouncing the place.”
Hagrid shook his head in mock disapproval as he closed the distance between them, opening the outer door with a bit of flourish which evoked a light laugh from the contented potions master. Hand in hand, they made their way towards the excited chatter of friends and family and welcoming warmth of the cottage.
Home.
Author: A.C.I.D
Pairing: Snape/Hagrid
Rating: PG/PG-13
Word Count: 3148
Feedback: Yes. Constructive criticism is what I like.
Beta: Hannah!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling had me falling in love with Snape and Hagrid, and sylvadin's Snagrid universe sparked my muse esp. the ever witty Healer (MATTY!) Blaylock and adorable Nifflers!
A/N: This oneshot is inspired by sylvadin's wonderful series Courtship and Tango. I recommend reading both series before diving into this story because I reference to a few events that happened and I don't want to SPOIL anything for anyone.
This story takes place during the Autumn following the last events in A Blessed Event (http://sylvadin.livejournal.com/55998.html) BEWARE OF FLUFF!
****************************************************************
“This is completely ridiculous.”
“Quit yer grumblin'. We're almost there.”
‘Almost there’ felt like it had been hours since a certain gamekeeper and potions master side-along apparated to a clearing in the Forbidden Forest. They were in pursuit this late Saturday morning of the elusive fairybell bush whose flowers might enhance a modified dreamless potion Severus was developing. The petals and pollen were known to incite euphoric dreams when directly ingested. Hagrid had claimed to have spotted the budding plant during one of his many trips into the Forest which, Severus noted, he seemed to be visiting at a higher rate than usual. Well, at this point, Hagrid probably was mistaken and this excursion would only produce sore feet or a sore pelvis in Severus' case. The potions master cursed as he stumbled over a hidden forest vine for what might have been the 20th time. He pulled his black cloak tighter around his slim frame as a sudden gust of autumn wind swirled around them, causing his knees to creak a little every step he took. Damn Voldemort and that stupid curse of his. May his obliterated soul stay that way for eternity and beyond. So mote it be.
Another shiver flew down his spine but this time from the tingle of magicked wards. The smell of burning wood immediately assaulted his sensitive nose. His hand instinctively sought for familiar ebony wood, hidden within the folds of the billowy cloak. Dark eyes quickly scanned their surroundings. Shoulders tensed, preparing to face the unknown as they rounded a bend in the uneven path. Mind and body always battle ready though the war had ended nearly five months ago.
Caught up in his surveillance, Severus failed to realize Hagrid had come to a stop, emitting a light 'oomph' as his face collided with the soft solidness of Hagrid's broad moleskin-covered back. A large warm hand steadied the shorter wizard's stance.
“Alright there?” Hagrid asked softly, a touch of nervousness in his voice. “Well, we're here.”
Severus followed the line of the gamekeeper’s large finger to see stone steps surrounded by large bushes of green foliage but nothing that hinted of fairybells.
“Exactly where are we, Hagrid? Because those are common bushes. Fairybells are much more miniature in size.” He tried to keep the harshness out of his voice but the slow pressure of a mounting headache made it difficult.
“They're inside,” Hagrid paused to take a calming but slightly shaky breath, “our house. Our home.”
“What are you talk...oh." Severus' eyes widened as he realized what exactly those stone steps were attached to, half-hidden behind those 'common' bushes.
Home was a modestly sized stonemason cottage that sat cozily between two grand oak trees whose brightly colored leaves painted the ground in a beautiful replica of an Regency era piece. The navy blue shingled roof tiles glittered like waves of a gently lapping sea underneath the rays of the October sun. Small clouds of smoke lazily streamed out from a single chimney stack. Below one of the towering oaks, a small garden of herbs - basic potions ingredients, Severus quickly discerned - peeked around the front from the back corner of the cottage. Thin flowering vines clung to polished blue-gray stone walls, outlining simple white-washed window frames and shutters before slithering up to rest upon the roof like gardens snakes basking on heated rocks. A tall door, wide enough to allow Hagrid's girth easy passage, stood out amongst the more modest fixtures. The deep forest green paint looked almost black in the shade of the overhanging trees. Etched into the painted wood was an elaborate motif of curves and lines, glowing a pale gold color even within the shadows. The golden swirled patterns gathered and swelled forming an ornate egg-shaped doorknob. It felt as if it were a doorway to another world. A world called Home.
Hagrid shifted nervously from foot to foot at the intense inspection of the small house. “I know it ain’t much but I thought it’d be nice ter ‘ave a place o’ our own. Away from the school fer, yeh know, privacy an’ whatnot. ”
Severus tore his eyes away from admiring the blood drop white leaves of the “Debauched Virgin” flowers swaying along the edge of the garden to see the slump shoulders and dejected fidgeting of his half-giant companion. Usually cold and calculating eyes took on a soft and gentle gaze. Potion stained fingers stretched to cup a bearded cheek. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
A quick but firm kiss punctuated the sentiment. Hagrid preened under the loving gestures of his usually reserved husband. His bright smile turned to worry lines at the faint frown that returned to his Severus’ face.
“If yeh don’ like it, Sev’rus, it’s -”
“No, no. Truly, I love it.” The groundskeeper beamed even brighter at the rare use of the L-word. Severus, face flushed with pink, crossed his arms loosely in front of his chest, clearing his throat before continuing. “Yes…well, I am simply at a loss to where you found the time a - and the necessary funds to build all of … this.” Severus waved languidly in the general direction of the stone house.
Severus heavily sighed inwardly; lips drawn into a small scowl. He despised the enforced poverty he was currently facing brought upon by the Ministry mandated Re-appropriation. The bittersweet reality of surviving a maniacal tyrant and finding an amazing lifelong partner only to realize that one could not live on merely hope and good intentions caused his hips to ache and his knees to cramp in pain. No matter how much that meddling old fool or even the Potter boy bleated his heroisms, to many he shall always be an evil Death Eater.
Strong arms gently encircled Severus, pulling him from his dark thoughts. He rested his head against a thick muscled chest, concentrating on the steady loud thumps of a too kind heart. Home.
“Quit with all tha’ frettin’ an’ worrin’,” Hagrid gently chided. “Really, it weren’t tha’ bad seein’ as we jus’ added onto Weird Wanda’s hut.”
Severus pulled back slightly from his warm cocoon; both dark brows perched up high near his hairline.
“The old hedgewitch?” Severus asked incredulously while his sharp eyes scanned the façade of the house, searching for any hint of the hedgewitch’s former dwelling. But it was for naught as he was preoccupied with more pressing matters during his previous visit (recovering from being on the brink of death, for one) to exert any real effort in committing details of the once tiny stone shack to memory.
He felt Hagrid shrug. His sturdy chest trembled with deep rumbles as Hagrid hummed in affirmation. “I reckon’ tha’ nobody would care ter go this deep in ter Forest. Won’ be catchin’ too many noses snoopin’ where they're not s’pose ter be.”
A particularly strong whip of October wind gave Severus an excuse to snug - nestle further into those strong, warm arms that kept the monsters at bay. “With the money bit…well I didn’ really spend much ‘cause most o’ the materials came from the Forest. An’ few of the lads from town owed me a favor or two so I weren’t doin’ too much haulin’ an’ hammerin’ on me own. Oh, an’ some o’ the Professors an’ Headmistress helped too, 'specially with the wards so we won’ ‘ave ter worry about any creatures sneakin’ in.”
“Is there anyone else I need to owl Thank-You notes to?” came the muffled, sarcastic reply.
“Couple o’ the Weasleys pitched in here an’ there.”
Hagrid chuckled at the half-hearted groan. “Come on now, let’s get yeh inside so yeh can ‘ave a proper look 'round.”
Large hands guided the potion master up the expanded stone steps to cross over the threshold of their new house. Home.
Severus paused at the as-wide-as-it-was-tall door, long pale fingers ghosting over the rune symbols for protection, feeling the pulse of the living magic. “Professor Dumbledore was the one ter do tha’.”
Hagrid’s eyes widened then squeezed shut in regret. He mentally kicked himself at the slip of tongue. “Ah, I shouldn’ ‘ave said tha’. ‘E didn’ want yeh ter know seein’ as yeh both still ain’t on the best o’ terms.”
And that is how it shall stay, Severus bitterly thought. A few gifts and apologies could not easily erase years of forced servitude and weak lemon scented words that irritated rather than soothed deeply embedded nightmarish memories. He drew his wand, running the tip over the doorknob in purposeful sideways strokes, murmuring a string of incantations. He re-sheathed his wand, scowling in disapproval when the readings came back negative for any superfluous extras.
“I hope you were attentive enough to ensure he placed only the necessary protection runes and nothing of a surreptitious nature.”
“If yeh mean bein’ sneakier than a jarvey after gnomes then the Headmistress is a kneazle with a taste fer jarvies.” Hagrid winked with a bit of an evil smirk. Severus felt a rush of pride at his husband’s flash of Slytherin- ness.
With that Severus reached out slowly, hesitantly, to grasp the golden knob, hand trembling slightly in a mixture of excitement and apprehension. A soft click and swoosh of the forest green door revealed gleaming wood floors and thick rafters wedged high in sturdy stone. Severus was scarcely aware of the door shutting behind him and his cloak being removed as he edged further into the welcoming space. The entire room was bathed in a warm glow from a low banked fire crackling and popping gaily in an enormous stone hearth which took up most of the western wall. Fang’s basket was nestled near the grate in a familiar manner. A beautifully carved Niffler House (the original was destroyed in the hut fire) stood close by; the usual rustlings absent as the Hogwarts’ Niffler family and Fang were currently being spoiled by a group of Third Year Hufflepuffs back at the castle. Two mismatched chairs reclined contentedly before the fire unaware of the room’s other occupants. Severus instantly recognized that the darkest of the pair and the ornate red rug lying beneath the chairs’ feet were from his long-since-seized home.
“Ha - How were you able to retrieve them?” Severus voice wavered with mixed emotions as he gripped the worn leather back of the overstuffed chair.
Hagrid hesitated, starting and stopping twice before murmuring a reply.
“Professor Dumbledore an’ ‘Arry helped me get a few o’ yer things when the Ministry were ‘avin’ tha’ estate sell o’ yer house.” He grimaced, waiting for the blow up but the sound of leather straining beneath a white-knuckled death grip was all he got in response.
Hagrid quickly searched the room trying to find a distraction for the stifling tension. Something through one of the rear windows of the cottage caught his eyes causing them sag to in relief then spark with excitement, twinkling brightly behind dark black-brown eyes. He skillfully unhinged Severus’ hands and then clutching one in his own, led the stubborn potions master past an agape door on the left that showed a glimpse of a large bed. Severus barely registered the basket of fairybells resting on top of Hagrid’s knotted wooden table before being pulled through a plain rear door into a very green back area. The gamekeeper hurried down a neatly trimmed stepping-stone path with Severus in tow, coming to a stop in front of a windowless, rectangular, much-larger-than-a-shed structure. The stones of its walls matched those of the cottage. The building’s door was solid cast-iron rather than wood with no visible runes on its face or even a door handle.
Hagrid loosened his grip allowing Severus to snatch back his hand, placing it within the folds of his clothed armpit to stave off the coolness of the Fall air. Hagrid returned the shooting glares with twinkling eyes full of mischief that reminded Severus sourly of the Barmy-Old-Coot-Who-Should-Be-Ignored.
“Matty told me a little secret of yers. Well more than one but most’ve ‘em I already know,” Hagrid smirked playfully at the expressionless potions master.
Only a twitch of an eye betrayed Severus’ embarrassment as he remembered the foolish mistake he made two months ago by joining the aforementioned healer for a drink in celebration of his clean bill of health. Severus ended up totally smashed, spouting off complete nonsense in the process. Damn Blaylock and his wily ways. Thinking of Blaylock, Severus still needed to firecall the man to see if he was coming by tomorrow for their biweekly research exchange or Tea ‘n’ Bitch as Poppy so eloquently called it.
“Ah, don’t give us tha’ look. ‘E just said somethin’ about yeh wantin’ ter take on an apprentice or two ter teach ‘em all yeh know about potions ‘stead o’ -,” Hagrid’s voice then took on a wonderful imitation of Snape’s drawl, “- unappreciative dunderheaded brats.”
“So I built this.” And with that, Hagrid unceremoniously took up Snape’s right hand, placing it on the center of the door. The iron door swung open on hidden hinges and Hagrid nudged Severus over the threshold into a replica of Severus’ office at Hogwarts sans the damp and dreary atmosphere.
Any protests about being manhandled died in the back of Severus’ throat as he took in the beautiful view before him. A mahogany stained desk and chair set matched well with the backdrop of floor to ceiling built-in bookcases that lined most of the office's wall. They were crammed with books from the library of his sold childhood home. Off to the side was a regular sized fireplace with what could have been the sisters of his favorite black reading chair sitting nobly in front of the unlit hearth; a dark mahogany side table rested in between them.
Severus let himself be guided through another iron door which revealed a knee-weakening sight. A fully stocked potions lab, big enough to fit three people comfortably (four, if they were feeling particularly friendly), gleamed and sparkled like a brand new broomstick or a Muggle vehicle under the bright witchlight. A ginormous wooden cabinet with clear glass inlays took up most of the back wall. It contained rows upon rows of different sized specimen jars and phials, many already filled with grotesque pickled ingredients. Several low crouching cupboards, baring a wide variety of cauldrons, stirrers, scales, and other necessary tools for the ever busy Potions Master, were spread out around the edges of the room. Two long and sturdy workroom tables stood in the center; wizarding versions of Bunsen burners occupied their surfaces. It was the room of his dreams. It was everything that he wanted and more. It was...too much. He needed - wanted...just... Hagrid caught him as he staggered; setting him down on one of the benches that lined the entrance wall. Severus pried open the first few buttons of his high collared robe as the room's temperature swelled, or maybe it was just him. He was too old for big shocks and surprises like this.
“Much too old for this.” His voice broke with a whisper of a sob. He dug the heel of his palms into his eyes trying to stave off the prickling sensation of tears.
Hagrid did not respond, afraid that he would start blubbering. He let his hands do the talking: gathering up the smaller man into his arms then gently began threading his fingers through raven feathered hair. He roughly swiped away the few tears that betrayed his brave front as he felt the small trembles of barely contained sobs against his chest. After a long moment of silence peppered with soft weepy sniffles, Severus sluggishly extracted himself from Hagrid’s arms, giving the offered handkerchief a mock-glare before taking it to scrub away any traces of un-Slytherin behavior.
“Merlin, I’m turning into an overemotional Hufflepuff,” Severus sneered though the usual sarcastic bite was notably absent.
“Nah. Jus’ an over’motional Slytherin.”
Severus gave his chuckling husband a huffy glare, quelling the juvenile urge to stick out his tongue. He looked around the potions lab once more. He had so many questions brewing in his mind but he shook his head to fling them aside, squeezing Hagrid's hand tightly in silent thanks. A light pressure of a kiss upon the top of his head showed that Hagrid understood. He rested his head on his loving husband's arm, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of happiness.
A sudden sharp chirping sound had both men jerking up in alarm. Hagrid recovered first, realizing what the annoying chiming was. He patted Severus’ knee, reassuring the tense man that it was the wards on the fireplace alerting them that someone was firecalling. He left to answer the call while Severus explored the - his lab further. Hagrid returned moments later to find the devoted Potions Master, refastened buttons and all, rearranging the ingredients cabinet. A Self-Writing Quill was skittering back and forth on a long sheet of parchment as Severus muttered to himself
“Who was it that was firecalling?” Severus asked, sniffing an open jar of rose colored goo before recapping then returning it to its proper place on the shelf.
“Poppy. Had ter give her the password ter come through the main fireplace. Didn' know it were tha' close ter noon,” Hagrid muttered that last part more to himself.
Severus paused in his task giving Hagrid's smiling face a suspicious side glance. “And what, pray tell, is the reason for Poppy's sudden visit?”
“For the housewarmin' party, o' course.”
Hagrid shrugged at Severus' blank stare, mouth curved in a teasing grin. “Would yeh 'ave liked a surprise one, then?”
Severus' resigned sigh and eye roll spoke clearly of what he thought but he swiftly placed all the unorganized jars back into cabinet, grabbed the quill to make a quick notation, then waving his wand in a complex motion, set a ward against any thefts. He strode towards the outer door, pausing to give Hagrid a pointed look, a small pleased smile clashed with his trademark brow raise.
“Well, I am certainly not going in there alone. Merlin knows there is at least four Weasleys trouncing the place.”
Hagrid shook his head in mock disapproval as he closed the distance between them, opening the outer door with a bit of flourish which evoked a light laugh from the contented potions master. Hand in hand, they made their way towards the excited chatter of friends and family and welcoming warmth of the cottage.
Home.