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Severus was in a relatively chipper
mood, by his standards anyway, when he met Miss Granger in
the staff room that afternoon to embark on their “outing”.
He’d come prepared wearing some of his few muggle garments
under his robes, since he suspected they’d be venturing
outside the magical world again. His suspicions were
confirmed by her appearance in a becoming peach sundress,
white jumper, and a pair of rather feminine-looking shoes.
She carried nothing but a sort of muggle handbag, slung by a
strap over her shoulder. Severus tugged his gaze from the
way the strap delineated her breasts and forced himself to
ask, “Where to, Miss Granger?”
“To London,” she replied. “I know a
place just the place south of the river that will have the
best selection.”
Dear Merlin, thought Severus.
Please tell me we’re not going shopping for clothes or
some such nonsense. “Selection of what, Miss
Granger?” he asked, mentally cringing.
“Oh, I’ll explain along the way,” she
replied cheerfully. “We’ll head off from the Leaky
Cauldron, since there’s a tube stop close by. After you!”
She motioned toward the fireplace for him to leave first.
After passing through the familiar pub
with the obligatory greetings to its occupants, the two made
their now familiar way to the London Underground. Miss
Granger led him again through the maze of corridors marked
with strange labels like “Piccadilly Line” and “Jubilee
Line” that he never seemed to get used to. When they found
seats on their train, Miss Granger began her explanation.
“One of the strongest instincts a
person can have beyond those we’ve already explored is the
parental instinct. Caring for someone, especially someone
who loves you unconditionally, usually leads to a feeling of
love for that someone in return,” she began.
Severus interrupted her with a
shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re finding me a child,
Miss Granger. I trust I need not remind you that I see
hundreds of these throughout the year and not one has
inspired the slightest bit of ‘parental instinct!’”
“I don’t agree with that; you’ve
certainly shown some favoritism to your Slytherins on many
occasions. But fear not, we’re not getting you a child.”
Miss Granger assured him. “Even in the muggle world you
can’t just buy a child from the local market! No, I was
thinking more along the lines of a pet.”
“Have you forgotten, Miss Granger, that
I already have an owl in my possession? Surely he qualifies
as a pet?”
Miss Granger shook her head. “I don’t
think so, actually. I’ve seen your owl and though he is a
useful creature he doesn’t exactly inspire the type of
feelings I mean. He’s very self-sufficient and hardly
affectionate at all. No, what you need, Professor Snape, is
a puppy.”
“A puppy?” Severus thought back to the
picture of the tiny golden puppies she’d showed him several
weeks before. “You must be joking. I’m hardly a puppy sort
of person.”
”There are all different sorts of
puppies, Professor, they aren’t all fluffy cuteness. I’d
wager that where we’re going, we can find at least one that
appeals to you. They have adult dogs as well, you know, if
you don’t mind taking on a used pet.”
Severus remained unconvinced as they
made their trek to what Miss Granger referred to as the
“animal shelter”. Once there, Miss Granger informed the
clerk that they’d come to adopt a dog. After making them
wait for several minutes in the waiting room, another clerk
arrived to take them through a door labeled “Dogs.”
The room looked almost like a prison,
thought Severus, or maybe a hospital; a long, narrow hallway
with rows upon rows of cages with cross-barred doors that
resembled tiny little cells. There were a large variety of
dogs here, acknowledged Severus, of all shapes and sizes.
Some sat right near the fronts of their cages, eager, tails
wagging. Too cute. Severus passed these by; their
excited enthusiasm reminded him of the way Miss Granger used
to jump up to answer every question in class, something he
was trying to forget as he much preferred the more tempered
personality she exhibited now. Others bared their teeth and
snarled as he approached; these too he ignored. Some lay so
still one might think they were asleep, not even budging
when Severus shook the door of their cage.
Severus walked the length of the room
twice, examining his choices. “See any that you like, sir?”
asked Miss Granger.
He shook his head and motioned with his
hand to silence her. He was still thinking. He paced the
room several more times, stopping in front of one of the
farthest cages from the door they’d come in through. In it
was a scruffy-looking black dog of questionable parentage,
the grey hairs that dotted its muzzle revealing it to be of
advanced age. It had walked gingerly to the door to watch
him approach, looked up at him resignedly and then sat,
gazing back with glazed eyes. Waiting.
“Tell me about this one.” Severus
ignored Miss Granger and addressed the attendant, who wore a
nametag pronouncing her to be “Claire.”
Claire looked doubtfully back. “Oh,
you don’t want that one, sir, she’s old, very old, can
barely see through her cataracts, poor old thing. Probably
doesn’t have more than one or two good years left in her.
If you want a black dog, you’d be much better off with one
of these.” Claire indicated a litter of excessively perky
puppies near the front of the cellblock.
Severus looked down into the old dog’s
eyes again. They seemed to speak back at him. “She’s
right, you know. I’m really not good for much anymore. I’m
old and even sometimes incontinent. You should take a puppy
and let me just die already.”
“No. I want this one.”
Severus’ mind was made up. Miss Granger may have dragged
him here against his better judgment but he was not
leaving without that dog.
As Miss Granger filled out the
paperwork, the attendant told Severus what she knew about
his new pet. A family had brought her in several days ago,
complaining that she kept messing on the rug, saying they
didn’t want her anymore. Her name was “Moira”, but Claire
told him he could probably change that if he wished. Claire
rambled on for several minutes about all of Moira’s various
maladies, and how expensive the medicines to treat them
would be. Severus was not dissuaded. He wagered he could
whip up something to clear those eyes at the very least.
So, armed with a few days worth of medicines and a leash,
Severus and Miss Granger were presented with Moira.
“You should apparate back with the dog,
Professor,” suggested Miss Granger. “She’s a little too big
to carry on the tube. I’ll stop at a pet shop and get you
some supplies and meet you in your dungeon a couple of hours
from now.”
“You can’t just transfigure everything
we’d need?” asked Severus curiously. “I’m shocked, Miss
Granger, after hearing Minerva rave about your talents for
the past seven years that you would need to go to a shop to
acquire pet supplies.”
Miss Granger rolled her eyes at him.
“Geriatric dog food is hardly part of the normal NEWT course
in transfiguration, Professor. And since I myself have
never had a pet dog, I’d rather get advice from the experts
the first time around. I’ll bring everything down to you
later.”
Severus led Moira into an alleyway
nearby, then stooped to carefully lift her before apparating
to just outside the Hogwarts grounds. Moira seemed startled
by the experience, but made only minimal fuss. He gently
set her back down and began leading her through the grounds
back toward the castle. She kept up his pace for a couple
minutes, but then began to lag behind, panting and wobbly on
her feet. Severus felt a flash of annoyance at the
inconvenience, but when he looked down, intent on scolding
her, but when he met her pained expression, he felt
something very different replace the irritation. Something
surprisingly akin to compassion. The experience was almost
overwhelming.
“Come on, mutt, let’s take you to see
Poppy.” He slowed his pace to match that of his new pet.
“Severus? I thought you’d said the
stomachache potions wouldn’t be ready until next week?”
Madame Pomfrey looked very surprised to see Severus leading
an aged dog into her hospital wing but wisely did not
question him much.
“I’m not at all experienced in looking
after pets, Severus, especially canine ones, but I’ll see
what I can do.” The potions master thought he heard Poppy
mumbling something about “a cat or a rat or a toad” but
chose not to reply.
Poppy declared that the dog’s hips
seemed to have a similar ailment to that which Albus’ joints
used to suffer on occasion, so she produced a tonic that
should “do the trick, if you can get her to drink it.”
Severus wondered if it were illegal to cast “imperio” on an
animal for its own good, before deciding it might be simpler
to mix the potion in with her food. He considered the
various herbs he could add to ensure the result was
palatable as Poppy began to treat the old dog.
Moira’s cataracts were removed with a
variation of pupula acclaro, then Poppy announced
that she’d done all she could. “She still is rather an old
dog, Severus, so she may get a bit dodgy from time to time.”
Severus nodded to Poppy in goodbye and
made his way back to the dungeon, Moira trotting contentedly
beside him. He imagined how shocked the other professors
would be to see him wandering the halls accompanied by a
pet, never mind how the students would react. Luckily he
had several weeks of summer remaining to become accustomed
to the idea.
When Miss Granger returned that
afternoon with food and toys, Severus had already
transfigured beds for Moira both in his lab and in his own
private quarters. Moira rested comfortably in the latter
while the young woman reiterated what Claire from the
shelter had told him about how much to feed her and how
often to take her outside.
“Wouldn’t it be simpler to just make a
sort of loo for her down here?” grumbled Severus, out of
sorts from being reminded of his responsibilities as if he
were a child. Additionally, he didn’t particularly enjoy
going out in the sun. “It’d be less walking for her and any
mess can be cleared with a simple evanesco.” Severus
knew that from years of removing the remains of
students’ botched potions experiments.
Hermione shook her head. “Not all the
time. A dog needs lots of fresh air and sunlight – real
sunlight – to be happy and healthy. And she’ll adjust much
better to these new surroundings if she has time out of
doors. You could fix up a run for her for when you’re
asleep, but you should take her outside at least twice a
day, at least during the warmer months. In the winter we’ll
need to create an artificial solution but not until then;
Moira will be able to tell the difference,” she insisted.
Miss Granger had been right about one
thing, pondered Severus that evening while he was reading
the latest issue of Alchemica Acta in his sitting
room. A dog behaved more … companion-like… than his owl
did. At that moment, Moira was lying on the floor by his
feet, or rather, on his feet, keeping them nicely warm
through his slippers. She wasn’t actively demanding his
attention, but seemed content to lay quietly in contact with
him. Severus could feel the gentle in and out of her
breathing against his feet. He rather liked it, actually.
It made him feel… not alone.
Severus sat under the shade of a large
oak tree near the lake several days later. His attention
was split between reading a book and watching Moira amble
around nearby, her nose in the grass. He’d had the idea to
let Moira loose in the meadow, bound to remain within 30
feet of him by way of a simple proximity charm. This
allowed Severus to remain productive even while taking the
dog for her twice daily exercise.
It wasn’t too bad, in all honesty. The
tree shielded him from the sun’s rays while allowing him to
enjoy the smell of the fresh outdoor air. Before this
summer, he’d only come outside due to necessity, but now he
was rediscovering the simple pleasures of a light breeze,
the smell of the wildflowers blooming nearby, the crackle of
acorns underfoot. The solitude of the grounds seemed
peaceful and appealing, especially when compared to his
self-imposed exile in the dungeons. There, he hid from
others; here, he merely reveled in their absence.
His solitude was not to last long.
Severus watched as Moira trotted towards Miss Granger until
the proximity charm would allow her to go no further. There
she sat, wagging her tail gently as she watched the woman
approach.
The librarian knelt to pet the dog, the
leaning motion unsettling her top and allowing Severus a
bird’s eye view down the valley between her breasts.
Severus found himself responding to the arousing sight,
hastily dropping his book onto his lap as Miss Granger stood
and approached him, Moira close behind.
“Lovely day today, isn’t it,
Professor?” Miss Granger unceremoniously plopped down on
the grass in front of him. She sat cross legged, elbows on
her knees, her face cradled lightly in her hands. This
position also offered Severus a pleasing view.
“Indeed,” replied Severus,
unconsciously petting Moira as she sat beside him, resting
her chin on his knee. “The air is quite temperate.”
Miss Granger laughed. “You don’t have
to worry about admitting to me you’re starting to
like it outside. I won’t tell anyone.”
Severus merely raised his eyebrows,
saying nothing. He preferred to let Miss Granger direct the
conversation where she would, so that he could enjoy the
benefits of surprise.
“Tell me truly, Professor. How do you
feel today?” She was eyeing him carefully now, obviously
entering therapist mode.
Severus sighed. He could play that
game, or prevaricate and pretend he didn’t know why she had
asked. He chose the former, deciding that a little
acknowledgement of success would do Miss Granger no harm, as
long as he did not reveal the full extent of it. “I
feel…relaxed.”
“That’s definitely a start. You’ve
been high-strung for so long I imagine you’d forgotten how
to relax. Have you been listening to the music I gave you?”
“Occasionally. But not all of it.
Only a few of the selections are bearable, the rest give me
a headache,” admitted Severus.
Miss Granger beamed. “That’s perfectly
normal, everyone has different tastes in music. Personally,
I can’t bear the ‘punk’ music that Harry and Ron listen to…”
Her voice trailed off. Severus could
see in her face that she’d just been reminded of that which
she was trying to forget so he tried to distract her. “I
like the di Rossi the best, myself. The Liszt and Chopin
are also pleasant. Moira appears to like them too.”
“How do you feel about Moira?” Miss
Granger’s eyes moved to look down at the canine whose chin
rested on Severus’ thigh. “Now that you’ve had her a few
days.”
Severus looked down at the content face
of his familiar, feeling a niggle of affection. “She is
tolerable. Although it is rather inconvenient having to
clean up after her and keep to her medication schedule.”
“I’m glad. That she’s tolerable, that
is.” Miss Granger looked to be stifling a smile – whether
one of satisfaction or believed superior understanding,
Severus couldn’t tell. “Who do you like?”
“I beg your pardon?” Severus didn’t
understand the question.
“If you could choose any person to
spend your day with, who would it be? No fair answering
‘nobody’, you have to choose.” There was that curiously
analytical look again.
Severus thought a moment before
replying. The first answer that popped into his head seemed
rather unwise to share, so he strove for a more prudent
response. “Everyone I would choose to spend my time with is
dead. However, Poppy is fine in small doses, I suppose.”
Miss Granger’s eyes shimmered with a
look of pity, but only for a moment before she sprang
another question. “And who do you hate? Not in the general
sense, as in the Death Eaters, but personally. Who do you
know that every time you see them or even think about them,
your blood boils?”
“Besides Saint Potter?” quipped
Severus. “Cornelius Fudge, perhaps. He is as stupid as
they come. But the rest of these, too, are dead.”
“Lucky for them,” Miss Granger grinned,
apparently ignoring the remark about her friend. “What
qualities do you look for in a friend?”
A friend. For him? Now there was a
foreign concept. Severus had known two masters, both of
whom held his life in his hands and neither of whom he would
consider a friend, despite any good intentions the latter of
the two had. Albus had been a benefactor, a protector,
almost a father to him, but never a friend. Severus had
many acquaintances, including many of the Hogwarts staff,
but these too were acquaintances by proximity and not by
choice. He avoided discussions of their private lives, and
they did the same of him. Some of the Death Eaters,
ironically, were the closest thing to a friend he’d ever
had, but the level of trust that Severus theoretically
associated with the term was understandably absent.
Friends? He’d had none.
But if he did, someday, have a friend,
what would that friend be like? He repeated the first words
that came to mind. “Intelligent. Trustworthy. Discreet.
Sensible.”
“Discreet? That’s an interesting
choice. Why discreet?” Miss Granger tipped her head to the
left, the way she always did when she was thinking.
Severus smirked. “I’m surprised you
have to ask, Miss Granger. You are quite aware that I’m a
private person. Any friend of mine would have to keep my
business to themselves, and I of course would do the same in
return.”
“I understand. But what if you were in
danger, and this friend needed to betray your confidence to
keep you from harm? Would you still consider them your
friend?“
Severus pondered this for a minute. “I
suppose that would depend somewhat on the end result, now
wouldn’t it? And how serious the perceived harm actually
was. I’m sure I would be quite angry in any case, but
whether I could overlook that would depend on the
circumstances. My trust is neither easy to earn nor easy to
regain once lost. But this is all irrelevant, since I do
not have friends nor am likely to have them in future.”
“Why do you say that, that you wouldn’t
have them in future?” Miss Granger seemed confused by his
words.
“Come now, Miss Granger, be honest with
yourself. I see nothing about myself that would encourage
anyone to befriend me. I accepted this long ago, and have
made my peace with it.” Years of hearing himself referred
to as the greasy git no one wanted around had driven that
point deeply in.
Miss Granger snorted. “That’s patently
ridiculous. The world is made up of all kinds of people,
Professor, and everyone appeals to someone.
There are far worse people than you that have friends, so I
see no reason you should not make some for yourself. You
just need to meet a wider variety of people.”
Severus was about to retort but then
Miss Granger continued as if she’d latched onto an idea.
“Yes, that’s it! You need to meet some new people… I know
what your next treatment is going to be!” She scrambled to
her feet, brushing some twigs from her skirt. “I need to do
some research. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon,
Professor. I’ll see you at supper and fill you in then on
the details of our next outing!”
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