Snape In Love

Chapter 25

Still Falls The Rain

There was a chill in the air as Hagrid and I travelled in the horseless carriage to Hogsmeade, and I could see my breath in front of me as I huddled deeper into my cloak. I wished I still had my old school scarf, to warm my neck and cover my mouth, and I remembered wearing Severus´ Slytherin scarf on Christmas Day. That had been one of the happiest days of my life, I reflected, and I wondered what on earth had gone wrong.

Hagrid left me to my thoughts for the most part, until we were trundling down the main street towards the Three Broomsticks. As the carriage slowed down he turned to me and said gruffly,

"Are yeh sure yeh want ter go?"

"No, I´m not, but I have to go. It´s for the best."

"´Ow can it be fer the best when yer both so miserable?"

"We´ll get over it!" I said lightly.

"I doubt tha´!"

He eyed me quizzically, unconvinced, and when I made no reply he shook his head, muttering to himself, "As stubborn as they come, an´ no mistake."

He helped me down from the carriage and my legs began to shake. Covering my mouth with my hand, I tried not to cry, but failed. I felt so sad, and so alone. Hagrid put his great hand on my shoulder, embarrassed, and said,

"Come on, let´s get yer inside, I´ll have Rosmerta fetch yer a brandy."

"No, no, I can´t, really, Hagrid. I´ll be fine."

"Well, why don´t yer let me send fer Hermione?"

"Because she´s part- no. No, it´s okay, really, don´t worry about me. I just need to get on with it, that´s all," I said, drying my tears with Hagrid´s proffered handkerchief. "This is the hardest part."

"Hmm, well, if you say so," he said, unconvinced.

I stepped into the fireplace in the snug at the Three Broomsticks with some trepidation. I took a fistful of Floo powder and shouted,

"The Leaky Cauldron!" and was on my way. I hated travelling by Floo, but it was less traumatic for me than attempting to apparate. I had always found unaccompanied apparition very frightening, and my kidnapping by Lucius Malfoy had made me even more distrustful of it as a means of transport. Floo, while turbulent and not good for my stomach, was nevertheless the preferred option. I could have done it the Muggle way, but sixteen years of living ,for the most part, away from the wizarding world had left me weary of it.

Several fireplaces later, however, I was beginning to see the benefits of more conventional modes of travel. I was dusty, hot, queasy and completely fed up by the time I finally tumbled into a small pension in the middle of nowhere, where a small round wizard clad in rustic clothes awaited me.

"Ah, mademoiselle, vous etes arrives! Ca va?"

My foreign language skills, while competent, were not sufficiently fluent to allow me to be irritable in anything other than my mother tongue, so I simply replied,

"Ca va bien, monsieur. Est-ce que vous allez m´emporter jusqu´au chateau?"

"Oui, oui, Madame Maxime veut bien vous revoir!"

"Merci, monsieur."

"Je vous en prie. Allons-y!"

We emerged, blinking, into the bright sunlight of an unseasonably warm French day, and I removed my winter cloak before getting on to the donkey-cart that was to be our transport to Beauxbatons. The journey was pleasant, if a little slow, but a combination of too much travel by Floo, strong sunshine and bumpy French country lanes left me feeling very nauseous and a little light headed by the time the chateau shimmered into view.

I was relieved when I could finally get down from the cart, which stopped in a shaded part of the central courtyard of the chateau. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine and wisteria, which climbed the walls and were trained across small gazebos placed in each corner. It was intoxicating, but did nothing to settle my stomach, and I felt on the verge of passing out.

The small wizard must have noticed me steady myself against the cart, because he came bustling round to me and offered his arm, a look of alarm on his kindly face.

"Venez par ici, Mademoiselle. Vous etes malade, non?"

"Non, je ne suis pas malade."

A shadow fell over me, and a familiar voice said curiously,

"No, you are not ill, are you, ma petite? You are...enceinte, n´est-ce pas? `Ow you say, pregnant?"

I turned to see Madame Maxime beaming down at me, her arms outstretched. We kissed one another in the usual French fashion, twice on each cheek, then she led me into the cool of the entrance hall and, from there, into an elegantly furnished salon whose picturewindows overlooked manicured lawns which swept down to the river.

Sitting beside me on a very large Louis Quinze style sofa, she regarded me enquiringly.

"I am correct, am I not?"

"How on earth did you know? Apart from Hermione, I´ve only told Madam Pomfrey!"

"Your face looks ill, cherie, but your body, eez blooming, non?"

"I feel sick..." I murmured, wiping perspiration from my forehead.

"Drink zis. It will `elp. And zen, you must rest. We will talk later, yes?"

I nodded, and took the proffered glass of iced tea gratefully. Sitting back against the antique silk upholstery, I sipped it and felt myself relax. I felt safe.

We made small talk while we drank, and I gave Madame Maxime a crumpled letter Hagrid had retrieved from deep in his coat outside the Three Broomsticks. She tore it open excitedly and scanned it.

"Oh la la!" she simpered, "My `Agrid says `e will come to visit me in the `olidays, in May!"

Smiling at her fondly, I set down my empty glass and she took that as her cue to suggest that we go to my rooms.

I had been allocated a small suite of rooms almost directly above the salon which we had just left. The door opened on to a small hallway. To the left was the bedroom, decorated in French rustic style with blue gingham and white paintwork, which overlooked the courtyard. Ahead was an elegant marbled bathroom, and to the right a spacious living room with windows on two sides, overlooking the lawns and the river. This room was less formal than the salon we had just left, and I was thankful that the sofas appeared to be far more comfortable, too.

"Thank you, it´s lovely!" I enthused as Madame Maxime fussed around, plumping cushions and straightening curtains.

"We want you to feel at `ome while you are wiz us," she smiled. "Now rest, ma petite!" She swept out out like a galleon in full sail, leaving me to settle in.

House elves had unpacked my luggage as soon as I had arrived, so there was nothing for me to do. I looked out of the window on to the formal gardens below, noting the fantastically shaped topiary which depicted dragons, unicorns, centaurs, hippogriffs and all manner of magical creatures.

"No wonder Hagrid keeps asking Professor Sprout for permission to plant new shrubs," I mused, "since he loves to be surrounded by magical creatures. He must love it here, walking through the gardens with Madame Maxime..."

I sighed, the thought of their happiness a painful reminder of what I had lost. I wandered into the bedroom and found that the house elves had placed the black lacquered box on my dressing table. I sat on the edge of the soft feather bed and looked at it. I was torn. I wanted to put it in a drawer and try to forget about it, and Severus, but I was drawn to it and picked it up, my hands shaking as I opened it and revealed the emerald inside.

I took it out, and passed my hand over it, saying "Mirror Mirabilis!" as I did so. Indistinct grey shapes gradually came into focus and I saw Severus, hunched over the lectern in his classroom, eyes blazing fire as he spat out some invective at his class. To judge from their reaction he was being even more cutting than usual, and I put the stone back into the box quickly, not wanting to see any more. I did not want to feel responsible for his foul mood, although I knew that I was. In my heart, too, I knew that I didn´t need a magic mirror to tell me how he was feeling. I sighed and lay down on the bed, stroking my belly and telling myself I´d done the right thing.

I managed to avoid being alone with Madam Maxime for the rest of that day. I didn´t feel ready to answer her questions, of which I was sure there would be many. The next day, however, she knocked at my door soon after I had breakfasted, and said,

"Come, Ella, ze gardens are in bloom, we will walk!"

I liked Madam Maxime very much, and had found her very easy to talk to the previous year, but I knew that she was not an easy woman to contradict. There was a steely determination behind her smile and I would not be allowed to demur.

Once outside, we began to walk down towards the river. She linked my arm in hers as we went, but since she was at least two feet taller than I was, this made me feel rather like a small child being swept along by its mother. At length we stopped remarking on the mildness of the weather, and admiring the beauty of the landscape and the prettiness of the spring blossoms, and Madam Maxime asked me what I had known she would.

"You are carrying ze child of Professor Snape, non?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Eet eez a secret?"

I nodded.

"Eez a secret even from `im?"

"Yes," I repeated firmly.

"May I ask why?"

"I have my reasons," I said levelly, looking her in the eye. She returned my gaze shrewdly.

"´Ow long? Three months? Four?"

"Almost four."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"You and `e, you `ave been through a great deal, cherie."

Swallowing a sudden lump in my throat, I could not answer. She sighed, and said,

"You will see our nurse?"

"No, there´s no need..."

"Ah, but zere is! I promised Dumbly-dorr we would look after you, and so we will! You will see ze nurse."

Reluctantly I nodded my assent. A physical examination would be useful, I thought, and was in any case overdue. It was unlikely that anyone here would mean me harm.

A curved wooden bridge spanned the river, and we stood in the middle, watching the water underneath dance and splash across the stones on the shallow riverbed.

"It´s lovely here," I mused, gazing down into the water.

"I come to zis bridge a lot. When I need to zink. Eez vairy tranquille, n´est-ce pas?"

I smiled my agreement, but thinking was the last thing I wanted to do, so I made my way back to the riverbank and dry land.