Chapter Fourteen

The village fete was in full swing. The vicar watched the scene before him with a proud smile. Everything was perfect, even the weather was fine: sunny, but not too hot. People were queuing for refreshments, the jumble-sale stall was busy, as were those selling home-made jams and home-knitted jumpers and socks. Most tickets for the raffle had already been sold. It was perfect. Beaming with pleasure the vicar turned to his companions, Sir William Brent and his guest from Cornwall. "I hope, you'll stay for the concert this evening. The choir has made a tremendous effort and has become very good. There's also a small orchestra. They would feel honoured by your presence." Sir William cast an enquiring look at his guest, who smiled and nodded. "Yes, why not, I like music, let's stay." The three men continued their stroll around the village green, nodding greetings right and left as they went, shaking hands.

Suddenly the vicar's eyes fell on the tall man at the bouncy castle. As always, he was dressed in black and was crouching next to a small red-haired boy, comforting him and wiping the tears from his face: Mr Weaver, certainly one of the most interesting characters in the village. He had to introduce him to Sir William.

The vicar liked Severus Weaver, enjoyed talking to him. The man was a scholar, a declared atheist, but well-read in theology, with a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. The two men had been meeting regularly in the vicar's study for heated discussions over a bottle of good red wine ever since they had become acquainted in the course of Martin Bell's illness.

The Weavers had moved to the village two years ago, they had bought an old derelict farmhouse and had restored it expertly. Mr Weaver was a pharmacist and an accomplished gardener, his wife a non-medical practitioner. At first the family had kept very much to themselves; they came from London – or that was what everybody deduced from the little information the Weavers volunteered – and there was agreement among the villagers that they were different somehow, but they were friendly and helpful, and ever since Miranda Weaver had managed to cure little Martin Bell's painful eczema with her treatment and the salves made by her husband, the village community had taken them into their hearts.

The two red-haired children, a boy and a girl, attended the village school and the doctor now often sent his hopeless cases to Miranda.

"Severus!" the vicar shouted, walking towards the bouncy castle, his hand outstretched for a hearty handshake, "do you know Sir William?" The man with the long grey hair kept in a ponytail – another fact that had caused a few raised eyebrows among the villagers - smiled at the vicar and looked in the direction of the vicar's sweeping left arm. His face became rigid and drained of all colour: He had never met Sir William, but he certainly knew the man walking next to him, Mr Theodore Trelawney from Cornwall.

The vicar was too busy addressing Sir William to notice this reaction.

The introductions were made and Mr Trelawney kept the eye-contact with Severus a bit longer than usual, but didn't say anything. After the first polite remarks the guest from Cornwall directed the conversation towards gardening, addressing himself mainly to his new acquaintance until the two men finally were standing apart from the others.

"So the two of you are still together and married. You're a lucky man, Mr Sn… Weaver," Mr Trelawney said quietly. Severus nodded nervously. He still had not got over the initial shock of recognition.

"You didn't write," Mr Trelawney went on.

Severus raised his hands in an apologetic way. "Somehow I never got round doing it, I had to build a new life from scratch."

Mr Trelawney smiled. "You don't have to apologize. I'm glad you succeeded."

Severus relaxed a bit.

"How long have you been living here?"

"For two years. First we went to London, Miranda could go back to her old job at St Mungo's and I – well…," he sighed and grimaced wearily, "I tried to come to terms with freedom, which took some time. Without Miranda's incredible patience and support I wouldn't have been able to do it."

"Where's your wife?"

"In the tea-tent. One of the helpers became ill and Miranda is standing in for her."

"This area doesn't have a wizarding community, do you live as Muggles?"

Severus laughed softly and shook his head. "No, not really. We just keep our contact with the wizarding world to the absolute minimum. Business affairs only. We try to hide the fact that we use magic. Miranda still works as a healer, some wizards come from London to see her, I make potions and sell them to St. Mungo's and other wizarding hospitals as well as to the local chemist's. But for the people here we are ordinary Muggles. We use computers and even have a car."

With an ironic grin he continued. "We may seem a bit strange in their eyes, but they put that down to the fact that we come from London. Even my friend, the vicar, hasn't got a clue or he would probably burn me at the stake rather than share his best wine with me."

Mr Trelawney laughed heartily. Severus took a deep breath to calm down his still fast-beating heart.

"What about the children?" Mr Trelawney smiled at the kids who had climbed out of the bouncy castle to see who their father was talking to.

"They have magic, but they don't know it yet. They go to the village school, it will be some years until their Hogwarts letters arrive."

They started walking towards the tea-tent in silence. Suddenly Severus stopped and looked at Mr Trelawney. "Does Sir William know you are a wizard?"

"Oh, no, he doesn't. We do business together from time to time, that's all."

Severus breathed out slowly. "Good, so he won't suspect anything."

Mr Trelawney put his hand on Snape's arm. "No, he won't and you can count on me for not telling anybody. I'm glad you've managed to settle down and I'm glad that now I know where to find you. I really did enjoy our talks, you know."

The little red-haired girl tucked at her father's sleeve. "Who is this man, Daddy?"

Severus cast a look at Mr Trelawney and smiled. "This is Mr Trelawney, Lily. He's…"

"An old friend," Mr Trelawney continued, "without me your parents would never have met. Now let's go and find your Mum."

Miranda pushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead with her arm und cast a look towards the entrance of the tea-tent and the endless queue of hungry and thirsty villagers. During the last hour she had come to regret her decision to help, her legs and her back were aching and her t-shirt was clinging to her back with sweat. A new group of people arrived at the back of the queue – oh, well, so her family was hungry, too – and Miranda nearly dropped the full tea-cup she was holding in her hand. Mr Trelawney! What on earth was he doing here, together with Severus? Hastily she handed the cup to her customer, excused herself and squeezed her body through the gap between the two trestle tables.

"Madam Weaver! How nice to meet you!" Mr Trelawney's face was full of pleasure when he took her hand and shook it enthusiastically, causing many curious faces to turn in their direction. Miranda smiled shyly and looked at her husband for help.

"He's a friend of Sir William's. He's staying with him," Severus explained the situation.

"Mummy, can we have chocolate cake?" Lily's impatient demand cut through an embarrassed silence.

Miranda nodded and patted their children's heads absent-mindedly. Making use of her privileges as a helper she jumped the queue in front of the cake table and bought two pieces of chocolate cake. Her thoughts were elsewhere. For years she had been harassing Severus with her pleas to keep his promise and write to Mr Trelawney, and for years Severus had found excuses for procrastinating. His experiences with the Death Eaters and the time of his captivity had left him extremely vulnerable to nightmares and panic attacks. He fought them, tried to overcome them by sheer force of will, but every now and then there were nights when he woke suddenly, disoriented, drenched in sweat, screaming with terror or whimpering with the pain he had just been reliving and only Miranda's patient presence could soothe him. Or days when some unexpected words, images, sounds or smells caused suppressed memories and sensations to re-surface which left him helpless, shaking, unable to think clearly or work. He desperately wanted to close these dismal chapters of his life and start a new one. Therefore they had left London and its wizarding institutions. In this village, with as few wizarding contacts as possible, he had succeeded so far, but now the tentacles of the past had got hold of him once again in the person of Mr Trelawney.

She handed a piece of cake to each child and watched her husband anxiously for signs of stress and panic. But he seemed perfectly at ease in Mr Trelawney's presence.

"I could do with a cup of tea," Severus said. "Do you have time for one?"

Miranda looked around. The other women were already casting impatient looks in her direction and the influx of visitors had not abated. She sighed.

"Oh, Severus, I don't think this would be a good idea right now. You have to do without me. Sorry, Mr Trelawney."

"Don't worry, Madam Weaver, I can't stay long anyway. Actually, I should be going back to Sir William, he's probably wondering about my whereabouts already."

"What are your plans? How long are you going to stay in the area?"

"Till tomorrow."

"Why don't you come and…" Miranda gave her husband a sidelong glance, "why don't you come and visit us for lunch tomorrow. Then we'll have time to talk."

She held her breath, waiting for Severus' reaction.

To her surprise he joined in with her invitation without hesitation.

Mr Trelawney accepted gladly and left the tent together with Severus and the children.

With a deep sigh of relief Miranda went back to her duties. She was handing out teacups and change on autopilot, her mind was busy evaluating the unexpected turn this day had taken. But they had mastered the situation, Severus had mastered the situation – and hopefully another step for him back to a normal life had been accomplished.

After they had settled their children for the night, Severus joined Miranda on the sofa in the living-room for a cup of coffee before bedtime. Miranda rested her head against the back of the sofa, her eyes closed. She was so tired, more tired than after a full day of normal work. Placing the coffee cups on the table, Severus sat down next to her, gently putting his arm around her shoulders. She shifted a little, snuggling closer to him.

They remained in this position, perfectly still, enjoying each other's presence, listening to each other's breathing and the occasional noises of the children upstairs.

"Have I ever thanked you?" Severus suddenly said softly.

Miranda tilted her head upwards and looked at him. "What for?"

"For your staying with me, for your patience, your never-ending support, your optimism."

Miranda just shrugged a little and settled even closer to him. She was too exhausted to think of anything appropriate to say.

Severus continued to speak, more to himself than to her.

"When I talked to Mr Trelawney this afternoon he called me a lucky man and I suddenly realized how much you have done for me during the last years and how much I have taken it for granted."

At last Miranda sat up and put her arms around his neck. Their eyes met. She smiled.

"Severus, it's all very simple. I love you."

And she kissed him, making him respond passionately, until they both forgot time and space in their being together. The coffee on the table remained untouched.

The end

Thanks to J.K.Rowling for the inspiring characters