I Never Thought It Would Be You

Chapter 2: A Parade of Idylls - 5 August 2002

By Pigwidgeon37

Hermione checked her flat one last time, to make sure that anything magical was concealed from the prying eyes of Mrs. Goodyear, her neighbour, who was going to feed Crookshanks for the next two days, scratched her cat behind the ears and Disapparated to the gates of Hogwarts. When she materialized, the first thing she felt was a violent blow to her right shin, followed by a frantic wail.

“ Maaaaaamaaaaaa!”

Yes, she thought, exactly what she had been looking forward to. Glancing down, she met the stare of a toddler, chubby, red-faced and definitely angry. And the mother-animal was already stampeding towards her, fangs bared, growling and hissing. Maybe Severus's idea to watch The Gladiator had been better than he thought.

The woman picked up the child and turned towards Hermione. “Can’t you be more careful? There are children here!”

“Then maybe it would be wise not to let them crawl all over the Apparition area,” Hermione responded politely.

“And look what you did! You broke his toy broomstick!”

“I had no idea it was a he,” Hermione said, scrutinizing the stout little fellow for any signs of male-ness. “But he bruised my shin, just in case that is of interest to you.”

The woman was not listening; all her attention was focused on stopping the child’s irate screams. Hermione sighed, shrugged, and looked at her… and looked again… “Lavender?” she said, realizing too late that her incredulous tone might offend the other witch.

“Yes, what… Hermione! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you! You look so different with short hair… Oh, I’m so glad to see you! Hermione, this is David, my son.”

Not quite sure what she was expected to do, Hermione gave a nod and tried an enthusiastic smile. “I didn’t know you already had a child, Lavender.”

“Oh, of course I do! It’s wonderful, Hermione, I love being a mother, it’s so fulfilling and absolutely marvellous… Number two is already on the way,” she added, pointing at her belly.

Hermione took a step backwards-she knew it wasn’t contagious, but better be sure… “Congratulations,” she said, “This is good news indeed.” Where the hell was Severus? He had promised to come and get her at the gates, in order to save her from exactly the scenario she was now caught in. There were horseless carriages for the guests, but Hermione had absolutely no desire to be squeezed together with screaming infants and their distressed parents. Then she saw a look of horror dawn on her ex-schoolmate’s face and knew that her saviour had arrived.

“Pro… Pro…” Lavender stuttered, clutching little David.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wood. Hello, Hermione.” Snape gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry for being late, but I had to assist Albus and Minerva.”

“Anything wrong?” she asked anxiously.

“No, not really. But Albus had insisted on decorating the Great Hall with Amazonian Nightstar Orchids, which happen to be the favourite food of Humminglizards. And Hagrid-”

“ Hagrid has a Humminglizard? But they’re venomous!”

“He has three of them, not one. The man is in his seventies now, and a living proof that old age doesn't necessarily mean wisdom. The same can be said about Albus, of course. I told him those beasts would smell the flowers and-” David the toddler, whose enraged outburst had stopped the moment he had set eyes on the Potions Master, seemed to have come out of his terrified stupor and spat at Snape’s face, missing his left eye by less than an inch. Stony-faced, Snape pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his face and said to Lavender, “You might want to work on its attitude, Mrs. Wood, before… it starts at Hogwarts. The step from Potions student to potion ingredient is but a small one.” With these words, he offered his arm to Hermione.

“See you later, Lavender,” she said cheerfully, and they started walking towards the castle.

A little later, all the guests with their spouses and children were assembled in the Great Hall for lunch. To make communication easier, there were no House Tables but a hundred smaller ones, where eight people could be comfortably seated. Hermione, who hadn’t been quick enough to escape, was sharing a table with the Wood family and Professor Trelawney. From time to time, she craned her neck to cast longing looks towards the other side of the hall, where noisy laughter and merriment resounded from a group formed by Dumbledore, Snape, Harry, Ron and two small boys. They were orphans, sons of a fellow Auror who had died in the fight against Voldemort, and had been taken in by the gay couple, who raised them as their own sons, which meant that they were going to be the bane of their teachers at Hogwarts in a few years’ time. Hermione didn’t have much fun right now-scarcely astonishing, given the identity of her tablemates. The conversation was dawdling, not least because Lavender had to divide her attention between murmured exchange with her idolized ex-Divination teacher and feeding her husband, who had been badly injured during a Quidditch match the other day and was carrying both his arms in slings. For some unfathomable reason, Lavender was convinced that nothing could please Hermione more than taking care of little David, into whose mouth she was currently attempting to stuff small pieces of carrots and potatoes, trying to cause the least possible damage to her own clothes. It didn't go particularly well.

“You know,” Lavender chirped brightly, thus jerking Hermione out of a dire reverie featuring gagged toddlers, “it would be much easier if you let him sit on your lap.” Hermione stared and opened her mouth to formulate an indignant reply, but Lavender continued, “When are you and Professor Snape going to get married and have children?”

Transfixed by the sheer tactlessness of the question, Hermione let the spoon hover out of David's reach for a moment, and the boy promptly started howling. “Oh, shut up!”, she snapped irritably and took advantage of the wide-open mouth to slip in a piece of potato. The howling stopped abruptly. “Severus and I? What-”

“Very soon,” Trelawney stated, lifting her face towards the enchanted ceiling in a not-very-convincing imitation of divinatory trance, “I saw it this morning in the flight of the dove… Soon they are to be united in wedlock, and the flame of passion shall burn hot and bright…”

“Bullshit,” Hermione said, “We’re friends, nothing else! Now will you stop it!”

Trelawney’s eyes, magnified by those enormous glasses, came to rest on her. “Friendship is but the beginning of love… Look at Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley…”

“But they're gay, for heaven's sake!” Hermione replied, completely exasperated.

“You see? Fate overcomes every obstacle.”

Hermione closed her eyes, and thus didn’t see that little David was spitting a well-chewed piece of potato right on her silk robes.