Keeping Emma

Chapter 8: Politics & Persuasion

Michael Dalton replayed the tape for the hundredth time. He felt sick as Viola's face appeared on the screen. She was being interviewed by some air-headed blond.

"Miss Gianni, it's been over three weeks since your daughter disappeared. British authorities have called off the search for her body. Her assailant confessed to killing her. What makes you so sure she is still alive?"

"She was seen," answered Viola. "An elderly couple has come forward and said that they saw Emma four days after her so-called death. She approached them, told them that she was Emma Gianni and that someone was trying to kidnap her. They hadn't been following the news and thought she was a street person. Later, they happened to see her picture on the television and recognized her. They said they looked back and saw a dark-haired man grab her by a phone booth. Later that evening, a flower seller said she'd been at King's Cross Station with a tall, dark-haired man. He had called her Emma and she had acted frightened of him. She never spoke, and the man had said she didn't speak English because she was an American. A taxi driver corroborated the flower seller's story. He said that he had dropped off the man and this girl, and the girl wore a long, hooded cloak. When she spoke, it was in gibberish. She must have been drugged."

"Let me place the photo of Emma on the screen," said the blond.

Once more, Michael saw her face. She looked just like her mother, except for the green eyes--his eyes. Viola's eyes were brown. Why hadn't Viola contacted him to let him know she was pregnant? He mentally berated himself. He should have at least checked on her. But no, he'd just left her in the middle of the street, crying, as he'd driven away.

"Miss Gianni, you are neither wealthy nor a celebrity. The motive cannot possibly be for ransom. Why do you think your daughter was kidnapped?"

"Since Emma vanished, I've been doing a lot of research. There is a high incidence in illegal trafficking of young girls in Europe. As much as it kills me to say it, it's the only possible explanation."

The clueless blond smiled brightly into the camera. "Thank you Miss Gianni. Next up, learn about the best beach destinations in the Caribbean. But first, a word from our sponsors."

Michael turned off the television and walked over to the window, placing his hands upon the sill. He looked out at the New York City skyline. His office took up one corner of the top floor of the United Nations. He represented the government on matters of international disputes and protocol. But he was also the liaison between the non-magical government and the Supreme Coven, which worked to oversee and organize the magical community in America.

Unlike England, the American Magical Community did not isolate themselves from the general population. They attended elementary school with non-magical children. Then, in the sixth grade, they were sent to one of several Witches' and Wizards' Institutes that existed around the country, where training in the use of magic was combined with a regular curriculum.

Afterwards, everyone went on to college and made their living in the general economy. Because Michael had been born in Boston, to non-magical parents, he had gone to the Salem Institute and had gone on to college. He had always dreamed of a career in politics.

He'd gone to Buffalo that fall to take a special course in comparative world politics from a visiting professor who was working to end apartheid in South Africa. That's how he'd met Viola. She'd been sitting in a coffee shop, a college hangout, all alone, reading. She was gorgeous. He had assumed that she was a college student and had gone over and asked if he could sit with her. They had met in Delaware Park the next day and walked in the rose garden, taken in the art gallery.

She'd let him believe she was a student at the University. She'd never allowed him to pick her up at home, saying that her parents were very strict. Then, in early December, she had gotten up to go to the bathroom in his dorm room. He had accidentally knocked over her purse and saw her school id--her high school id. He'd been angry, had felt fooled. He'd confronted her with it, and then told her to dress. He'd been irate, berating her for her lies, asking her if she had any idea that she could have destroyed his life.

He had been nearly twenty-one, dating a seventeen-year-old high school kid. She could have cost him his career, his future. He'd taken her home and driven away, never looking back. The next day, he sat for his exams, and then returned to Boston and Beth, the daughter of his parents' best friends. Their parents had always hoped he and Beth would marry one day. They did, in June, just as Emma was being born. Natalie came the next summer.

"August," he called out. He heard his secretary apparate behind him. He turned to speak to him. He saw his reflection in the mirrored wall that hooked to the MirTran, the American Magical Transport Network.

"Yes, Ambassador Dalton?"

"Has that meeting with the President been arranged?"

"Yes, Ambassador," answered August Peller. "He awaits your arrival via the MirTran"

"Make ready to travel to London. The president will get a sudden urge to reassign me to our Embassy in the UK. Call my housekeeper and tell her to pack for several months. We may be there for some time. Also, tell her to not let Natalie go anywhere. I have to explain the situation to her tonight. I knew it was too much a coincidence that Emma was last seen outside their hospital and at King's Cross. My spies have told me that the Ministry has disposed of her. The Brits are paranoid about keeping their existence secret from the non-magical population. Also, they have no respect for anyone who is not a wizard. If she stumbled upon their world, she was probably taken to Azkaban."

"Why don't you send an eagle to Minister Fudge?"

"I don't want them forewarned. They'll just close ranks, try to cover up what they've done. They might even kill her, if she's not already dead. The Ministry is more corrupt than any government I've ever dealt with, magical or not. I want the element of surprise. If she's still alive, I will find her and bring her home. She's mine and I want her. After I find her, I'll deal with her mother."

Michael looked down at the file on his desk. He had asked August to compile one on Viola. She'd had a hard life after he'd left her. She'd been homeless, showing up at the Emergency room of the County Hospital in labor. She'd had no prenatal care and had lived in public housing, on welfare, after Emma's birth, which was on June 25^th.

He had left her in early December. She had to have known she was pregnant. Why did she hide it? Why hadn't Emma been born a witch? But, it happened that way sometimes. Born under those circumstances, no medical care, not enough food, it could have affected the development of the powers. Not that it mattered. She was his daughter and his responsibility. He would have supported them. His wife would have understood. When he'd returned to Beth in Massachusetts, he had told her about what had happened with Viola. Beth had been hurt, but she had forgiven him. If Viola had been willing, maybe they could have raised Emma as their own, next to Natalie.

"What about the Supreme Coven, Ambassador?"

"Send an eagle off to the Supreme Coven, apprising them of the situation. I'm going to approach the Ministry with a bone for them to chew on. They are so much in debt to the Goblins from their last war that they are avid to get us to adopt their monetary system. The Goblins want to expand their influence in this country. If the Ministry can pull it off, the Goblins will forgive their debt. We'll never do it, of course, but they don't know that."

Michael Dalton walked into the mirrored wall, muttering, "Oval Office."

*****

Severus stood inside Hagrid's hut, waiting. Finally, his opportunity had come. Dumbledore and Hagrid had gone off together to see about getting some supplies in Diagon Alley. He'd managed to subvert the spells Dumbledore had put in place to keep Emma on the grounds of the school, so he would be able to remove her from the grounds.

Kingsley had returned to London but was making Hogwarts his weekend getaway spot. Severus had learned that Emma had been enlisted to feed Fang while Hagrid was gone. Over the last two weeks, Severus had made the old Bluff house as comfortable as possible. He glanced over to where Fang was sound asleep by Hagrid's hearth. He wasn't much of a watchdog, as far as Severus could tell. What was keeping Emma?

Then, he heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel path leading to Hagrid's door. He peeked out the window and saw her.

Emma pushed open the door to Hagrid's hut. She stepped inside and just stood, letting her eyes adjust to the darkened interior. She wished she had some matches to light a candle. She was plunged into total darkness as the door suddenly slammed shut behind her. She turned to see a figure by the door, her heart jumping into her throat.

Severus lit his wand. "Hello Emma," he said. "Long time no see."

"I am not going to speak to you, Severus. Leave me alone."

"You and I are going to take a little holiday," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said.

Severus smiled faintly and kept coming closer to her. She backed away until her route was blocked by Hagrid's table. Severus lightly caressed her face with the tip of his wand. "You will board my broom behind me and hold on, or I will force you to come with me."

Emma began to be afraid. "What are you going to do?" she asked, staring apprehensively at his wand.

"I could do any number of things," he said. "There's the Imperius Curse. You'd have to do whatever I told you to do. Then there's the Reducto spell. I could shrink you down to doll-size and put you in my pocket."

"Severus, please. There's something you need to know. I might be pregnant. I think I am because I've not been feeling well the last couple mornings, and there are a couple other signs. Please don't hurt me."

"Hurt you? Is that what you think this is about? I'd never do anything to hurt you. I need to get you away from Dumbledore and Shacklebolt so I can convince you to marry me."

"Marry you? Why do you want to marry me? You don't love me. I'll never marry someone who doesn't love me. I want my baby raised in a happy home."

"Hippocrite! You don't love Kingsley. No, don't you look away from me. Don't you hide your thoughts from me."

Emma kept her eyes averted. "You have no respect, Severus. Every time you invade my mind without my permission it is a violation. It's an abuse of your power. I'm not your little plaything to be picked up and then discarded at your convenience. You still haven't said why you want to marry me. Is it because I might be pregnant? I won't marry you just because you think you have to."

"No. I don't care if you're pregnant or not. I want you regardless. Do you really think I'm that...noble?"

"If it's not for the baby or for love, then why? For sex? I won't be any man's whore."

"The only person who thinks you're a whore is you, Emma. I want to marry you because...because I need you. I'm tired, just so sick and tired of being alone. You remind me of Lily in so many ways. You have her eyes. It's what drew me to you that first day. But it's more than that. You have her kindness, her gentleness, and on the train, you said that you forgave me. Lily, in the end, said she forgave me, but she didn't. She was lying to herself and to me and I knew it even as she said it. You think I have no idea how hurt you are? I know what it's like to love someone who does not return it. I need you because I think, maybe, you can teach me how to forgive myself."

"Forgive yourself for what, Severus? What have you done?"

"It's my fault Lily is dead. I heard Trelawney make a prophecy. I only heard part of it, but she said that a child born as July wanes would have the power the Dark Lord knows not, that this child would destroy him. I thought it was a joke. I know Sybill; she was a couple years ahead of me in school. She's a fraud. I met up with this Death-Eater named Lucius Malfoy and told him about it. He went running off to the Dark Lord with the story. I'd lost touch with Lily, and I'd had no idea that she'd had a son who was born at the end of July."

So that was it. He had allowed his guilt to close his heart. Emma closed her eyes as she felt her resolve to resist him begin to melt away.

Severus could sense that she was weakening. "Please Emma. You have the power I know not. Forgiveness. I need to be strong. Dumbledore expects me to help protect Lily's son. The Dark Lord is not dead. He's out there somewhere; I can feel it. He will come back some day, and I will have to go back to pretending to be one of them. It's so hard to surround yourself with evil and not let it poison you. I need you, Emma. When I'm with you, I forget to despise myself."

Emma stood, silent, her eyes closed. She hadn't expected this. Her heart bled for him. How would she feel if she knew she was responsible for the death of someone she loved?

"Emma?"

"I'm thinking, Severus." There was no escaping the one truth. In all of that, he had not mentioned love. "Why can't you love me? What is it that I lack?"

"It's not you, Emma. You lack nothing. It's what I lack."

"What is it?"

"Courage, Emma. I lack the courage to take another loss. Everyone I love dies. Emma, I promise, I will keep you; I will care for you and stand by you until the very end. I will lay down my life to protect you."

"But you will never love me," she said.

He was silent for several seconds. It would be so easy to tell her what she wanted to hear. But that would be another sin. Even if it cost him this chance, he couldn't do it. "I'll never lie to you, Emma," he said, finally, hopelessly.

Emma sighed. It killed her to see him so ravaged. Despite everything, she loved him; she wanted to comfort him. She loved him not knowing how, when, or wherefore. Yes, she could turn him away. She could salvage her pride. But pride, she had learned, was a cold bed companion. Her desire for him shadowed her days and haunted her nights; he lived darkly within her mind, her soul, her body. Perhaps what he was offering would be enough. If it wasn't, she would have his child to love. "There would have to be rules, Severus," she said. "You will never use magic on me without my permission, and that especially goes for the mind-reading crap."

Severus felt hope surge through him. She was saying yes. "Agreed, unless there is a compelling reason. If you are in danger, you cannot expect me to wait for permission."

"Of course, Severus, that goes without saying. But I will not be disrespected or bullied. And you will be faithful."

"Anything, Emma," he said. He stepped close to her and tucked her head under his chin, slipping his arms around her. "I won't be a mistake. I give you my word."

That evening, Emma and Severus waited in the entrance hall for Professor Dumbledore's return. Finally, the doors opened and he and Hagrid walked in. When Dumbledore saw Emma and Severus sitting on the stairs together, his eyes narrowed and he looked annoyed.

Severus got up and approached him. "Headmaster, Emma and I would like to discuss something with you."

"What is it, Severus?" he asked.

"Emma has agreed to become my wife," he said.

Professor Dumbledore walked over to Emma and stared into her eyes. "Is this true? Is this of your own free will?"

"Yes, Professor, it is," she answered.

He turned to look at Severus. "Do I have to make use of Scarpin's Revelaspell to make sure you haven't enchanted her?"

"You're free to if you want," said Severus. "You'll find no spell or potion was used on her. I sought her out, made my case, and she agreed." He wisely omitted the fact that he'd planned to kidnap her.

"Very well. I will make the arrangements," said Professor Dumbledore. "But Severus, I will be watching."

*****

Saturday, the seventh of August dawned bright and clear. Emma ran to the window upon waking to see the blue sky. She looked down toward the lake where Mr. Hagrid was busy setting up some chairs for the ceremony that afternoon. In the two weeks since she'd agreed to marry Severus, she had been busy. As a member of the Wizengamut, Professor Dumbledore could perform the ceremony. He said that it would be a legal marriage in both worlds. It seems that the Ministry has people planted in the Muggle government to handle making sure the proper paperwork was recorded, and that Scotland happened to have relatively lax regulations surrounding marriage.

The week before, Severus had taken her to Mulroon, a Muggle college town less than an hour's broomstick ride away. They had come down on a wooded rise just outside the town. Severus had taken the precaution of using his wand to lighten and straighten her hair and had even temporarily fixed the space between her teeth so she would not be recognized. When he was done, he'd looked shocked at the result. When she asked why, he'd said that she looked like Lily. He hadn't intended to, but he'd made her look like Lily. He hurriedly used his wand to return her hair to its darker shade.

They'd come to Mulroon so Emma could shop. She needed to find a dress to wear to be married in and some clothes for the fall and winter. Once the school year began, there would be little time to take care of such practicalities. Her pregnancy had been confirmed, so he also wanted her to get what she needed for the baby, which would arrive in April. He would portkey the packages directly to Hogwarts.

They went into a department store and Emma went directly to the shoe department. She began looking through the displays of winter boots that looked so incongruous with the hot summer day outside. When she could not find a pair small enough for her, the salesman had suggested that she go look in the children's department. Severus had cracked up laughing.

"You think that was funny?" she asked, irate.

"It's just that he is so lucky you're not a witch," he'd whispered. "He'd probably be sprouting green pustules right now if you were. The look you gave him was...perfect. Just buy the smallest size they have and I can use magic to make it fit."

Afterwards, Severus took her to the women's department. He was greeted by a woman who seemed to know him. She hurried toward him and welcomed him back. The mystery of how Severus had managed to buy her all those lovely things when she'd been denied entry to Gladrags was solved. He had merely brought Emma's list to the store, told this woman that his American fiancé's luggage had been lost, and had let her pick out a wardrobe. The woman helped Emma pick out nice warm coats, sweaters, slacks, dresses, and nightwear from the maternity department. By the time she'd made her purchases, Emma was exhausted. Severus took her to a Muggle inn and booked a room. After portkeying the items back to Hogwarts, he'd gone out and brought back some dinner for them to eat in the room.

The next day, Emma had shopped for some baby items. She'd bought blankets, diapers, sleepers, caps, and booties, even a cradle. She'd even gotten him to wait outside a small bridal shop while she went inside and chose a dress to wear to be married in. It was ivory satin, with a high halter top that hooked at the back of her throat, leaving her shoulders bare. The top was strewn with floral embroidery, sequins, and tiny pearls. The skirt fell to the floor. It was much too long, but she knew that she could get Professor McGonagall to shorten it for her. She decided to go without a veil. She bought a pair of ivory satin pumps and a special bra to accommodate the halter top.

On the way back to the inn, Emma noticed a library. She asked Severus to take her in. He sat, watching, as she read through the past month's reports about her murder. As the weeks had gone by, the story had moved from the headlines to the back pages, the articles getting smaller and smaller until they finally ceased. In one early article, however, was a photo of her mother in America. Severus watched while Emma copied it on the noisy machine the library provided.

That night, Emma had felt tired again. So far, the pregnancy seemed to exhaust her energy more than anything else. The only other symptoms were overwhelming cravings for green olives and Honeydukes Cinnamon Sticks. She'd cuddled next to Severus in the bed and asked him what he wanted to name the baby. He said it did not matter.

"Would you like to name it after you if it's a boy?"

"I don't want to burden him like that," he'd answered.

"Why? Do you think it would be too much for him to live up to?"

"No Emma, it would be a difficult thing for him to live down."

"What about after your father, then? What was his name?"

"Most definitely not; I despised him," he'd said. "Let the child have its own name, nothing from the past, please."

"I always liked the name Allison for a girl. And Elyse. What do you think of Allison Elyse for a girl, and maybe Jonathan Scott for a boy?"

"Whatever you want, Emma," he said. Talking about the baby always made him nervous. He still had to get used to the idea of a child. "I want to talk to Madam Pomfrey when we get back to Hogwarts tomorrow. You are not pregnant enough to be getting so tired so quickly. I'll see if she has any suggestions for a special strengthening potion. Now go to sleep, Emma."

"Severus?"

"What?"

Emma noticed that he avoided talking about the baby. It was the elephant in the room between them. The one they danced around, pretending it did not exist. So, once more, she changed the topic. "Is England the only place there are witches and wizards?"

"Of course not. They even exist in your country. They are quite backward thinking. They call themselves the Magical Community and refuse to adhere to the system of government that has proven the most efficient way for us to live. They try to pretend there is no difference between themselves and the Muggles. In fact, they only began organizing within the last forty years or so, forming some sort of governing council. But their council takes a very hands-off approach to most things, as I understand it. They just don't seem to understand the need for secrecy and separation. Now go to sleep, Emma. We have a long trip back to Hogwarts tomorrow."

Rousing herself from her memories of the trip to Mulroon, Emma pulled herself away from her window and ran to get ready. She took a long soak in the tub, using the soap and salts that Severus had made for her. While in Mulroon, he had not wanted her to purchase any Muggle-made products. He kept saying they were filled with poisons.

When she was done, she found Merope in her sitting room, a breakfast tray on the small table. The little elf was getting quite bossy. She stood there, waiting, until Emma finished every bite. Then she handed Emma the bottle of special strengthening potion that Madam Pomfrey had made for her. It helped to keep the morning sickness at bay and was filled with extra nutrients to keep both Emma and the baby strong.

After the ceremony, the headmaster had planned a special party in the Great Hall. He had invited the Tonks family and Kingsley, as well as some old friends of his who served on the Wizengamut, and a lady named Bathilda Bagshot. Mr. & Mrs. Flume from Honeydukes would be there, as would Madam Rosmerta from the Three Broomsticks. Hagrid would be performing the honor of giving her away, and Professors Flitwick and McGonagall would be the best man and maid of honor.

A knock came at the door. It was Professor Sprout. She had managed to grow some daffodils out of season and had fashioned a pretty bouquet for Emma from them. A yellow satin ribbon trailed from the bouquet.

That evening, Severus sat at the Head Table growing more impatient by the minute. At the moment, he was watching Emma dancing some sort of polka with Professor Flitwick. Well, at least it did not look as ridiculous as it had when she'd danced with Hagrid. Flitwick was only a couple inches shorter than she was. Hagrid had carried a portrait of an orchestra into the Great Hall and propped it up against a wall. The musicians in the portrait began to play, and they had not yet stopped once. It was after midnight.

Dumbledore had dragged Severus onto the floor and literally forced him to dance with Emma. He'd tried to explain that he did not dance, but Emma merely stepped into his arms and began dancing with him. Then the snotty little...wench had taunted him by asking if he needed her to lead. Then, just as he began to enjoy the feel of her body pressing so closely against his, the song had ended and she had scampered off to grab Dumbledore's hand and dance with him, leaving him to muddle through the next song with Minerva.

The song finally ended and Severus hoped that the damned party was over. But, no, they'd begun another one. Then another. Severus had lost count. At one point, Emma had instructed the musicians in the portrait on how to play something called the Chicken Dance. She'd taught them all how to do it, proclaiming it some sort of American wedding reception tradition. Severus had sat and watched, caught somewhere between horror and hilarity as they had all formed a circle and behaved like utter fools. Flitwick was now partnering one of the ladies from the Wizengamut and Emma was dancing with Shacklebolt.

After his dance with Emma ended, Kingsley made his way over to the table where Severus sat alone. He wondered what the hell was wrong with the man. He had a pretty, sweet little bride like Emma and he sat there, like a lump on a log, glowering at her. Kingsley decided to have a little fun with Severus. He took the seat next to him and poured himself a glass of wine.

"So, Severus, you're a married man."

Severus sighed and, in an uncivil voice, said, "So it seems."

"She's lovely, and such a sweet girl too. Too bad she doesn't have an older sister."

"I'm rather surprised you're taking this so well, Kingsley. Considering that you wanted her for yourself."

Kingsley laughed. "Oh, you mean that little conversation in the Three Broomsticks? I saw you out the window, Severus. When that door blew open on a windless day, I knew it was you. Emma and I staged that conversation for your benefit."

Severus stared at Kingsley, stunned. They'd completely flummoxed him. He grew more irritated as Kingsley continued to laugh at him.

"Well, your life is certainly going to change. You've a wife and a baby on the way to top it off. Congratulations. No hanging out down on Knockturn Alley for you anymore."

Severus was angry over having been fooled by Shacklebolt. "Emma and I have an arrangement," he said. "You really need not concern yourself regarding my conduct."

Kingsley watched Emma as she danced and suddenly found himself fed up with Severus Snape. He whipped out his wand and poked it into the man's privates. "She carries your child. Doesn't that mean anything to you? You have a chance to do something right for a change, Snape. That girl certainly deserves better than the likes of you. If I even think that you are mistreating her, or hear that you are hanging out down on Knockturn Alley, I am going to turn your you-know-what into a tulip. Permanently. Now get up and ask your wife to dance. You are hurting her feelings. Nobody is that insensitive, not even you, so you must be doing it deliberately."

Severus looked into Kingsley's eyes and saw that the man was deadly serious. He winced as Kingsley jabbed his wand into him sharply. Severus shoved his chair back and stood up. He made his way over to Emma and Dumbledore and asked to cut in. As the headmaster turned Emma over to him, he said, "Well, it's about time, Severus."

Emma stepped into his arms and laid her head on his chest. Instead of dancing, they merely stood in one spot and swayed. Severus slipped his hands from her waist to her hips. Emma was not merely short; she had a very delicate frame. He began to imagine how she would look as the pregnancy progressed. A vague sense of unease possessed him as he began to worry about how she would ever be able to actually deliver a baby through those slim hips. He resolved to speak to Madame Pomfrey about it first thing tomorrow. Emma looked up at him, her eyes sleepy. "Thank you for coming to dance with me, Severus," she said.

"Yes, well, Kingsley threatened to turn my you-know-what into a tulip if I didn't."

Emma giggled. "I knew there was something about Kingsley I liked." She yawned and was silent. After a couple minutes, the hand she had placed on his shoulder fell. Severus realized that she had actually fallen asleep and lifted her into his arms. Minerva immediately came over to see if she was okay.

"She fell asleep," he whispered. "I'm taking her to bed. She's overdone it."

Minerva stroked Emma's hair maternally and smiled. "She is a sweet child." Then she looked at Severus. "Albus and I will be watching you, Severus. Hurt her and they will never find your body."

As he carried Emma down to his dungeon chambers, he began to wonder how it had ever come to this.