Keeping Emma

Chapter 11: Separation & Reunion

Emma sat at the window of her bedroom, looking out over the snow covered grounds. It was Wednesday, the beginning of her second full day here. Only eighty-eight more to go and she would be with Severus again. She felt her daughter move within her. "You miss your daddy too, don't you little one?" she whispered sadly.

The Ambassador occupied a large apartment on the third floor of a gorgeous old Georgian estate in Hampshire. It was the country home of the American embassy. Entering the mansion, a brass and glass elevator in the black and white marble entry had swept them up to the third floor, opening into an elegant foyer. Directly ahead was a large sitting parlor, with windows that led to a balcony that looked out onto the rear grounds. Hallways on each side of the foyer led to the Ambassador's private study, dining room, kitchen, and the housekeeper's suite on the right and the bedrooms on the left. The apartment boasted five large, luxurious bedrooms, each with its own bath. Emma was given the bedroom at the end of the hall, next to the Ambassador's and across from his daughter Natalie's. The housekeeper was a large, motherly, middle-aged American witch named Mrs. Trumbell who had been with the Daltons for years.

Emma had learned that the ambassador's wife had been a Muggle who had passed away four years earlier. Natalie was treating Emma very kindly, as was the Ambassador. The Daltons seemed to have integrated both magic and Muggle technology into their lives and home much better than the British witches and wizards had managed to do. Natalie explained that they enjoyed the telephones, electric lights, the televisions, the central air and heating. Americans, it seemed, did not live separately from the Muggles, or non-magical folk, as they called them, as the British did.

In the limo on the way here, the Ambassador had explained that the non-magical governments of the world were well aware of the existence of magic and it was his job to promote the Supreme Coven's interests with the Ministry as well as use his powers to promote the President's agenda abroad. Wizards in some countries had simply assimilated and learned to co-exist better than in others. Exhausted, she had fallen asleep in the limo. When she had awoken, she'd been embarrassed to find that she had been using the Ambassador's arm as a pillow.

Upon arriving on Monday afternoon, the Ambassador had turned Emma over to Natalie and Mrs. Trumbell. Then he had gone into his private library and had spent over an hour on the telephone. During dinner, he had explained that he had dispatched his secretary, a wizard named August, to tell her mother that the Embassy had heard word of Emma, and to return to England with her on a commercial flight as soon as possible. Natalie giggled that August must be highly upset at the prospect of an airplane ride. It seems that the wizard was terrified of them.

After dinner, for which she'd had no appetite, Emma went to her room to watch television. She began to cry when she realized that she had no Honeydukes Cinnamon Sticks. She began to wonder if the Daltons might have some green olives, which were the next best thing, but she didn't feel comfortable asking. She was just a guest, after all. She felt foolish crying over something so trivial, but she just couldn't help herself. She heard a soft knock at the door. After a second, it opened and Natalie came into the room. She sat on the bed where Emma lay, crying and put her arm around her. "Emma, it's all right. Please don't be so upset. Your mom will be here soon. Won't that make you feel better?"

"You don't understand. Of course I'll be thrilled to see my mother. But Severus is my husband. I do love him. I know my own mind. Why won't anyone believe me? And I don't have any cinnamon sticks from Honeydukes or green olives. Severus would always go get me some, no matter what time it was, or how early a class he had. That alone should prove how much he cares for me. I know he did terrible things, but he has changed."

"Emma, you have to understand. Daddy is irate over what that man did to you. It was unforgivable. I was with him when he first interviewed that Healer from St. Mungos. Professor Snape is lucky to be alive. Daddy wanted to kill him. The thought of him ever touching you again makes him sick."

"She was mistaken! But even if she was right, why should he even care? I'm nobody. I'm a total stranger and a Muggle to boot."

Natalie stared at her sister, beginning to feel guilty at her role in the whole thing. Her father wanted Emma's mother present when she learned the truth. "He does care Emma, and so do I. Just accept that as truth for now. I'll go see if we have any green olives for you, okay? And Emma, we do not use the "M" word. It's a nasty, stupid sounding word, a racial slur. Now get in the shower and get dressed in something else, Emma, and then come have breakfast. You got so many pretty new things yesterday, and you're still wearing the outfit you arrived in. And you haven't showered since you came here. Your mother will be here this afternoon, and I don't want her seeing you like this. If you refuse, I'll simply use my wand to make these clothes disappear, and I'll Imperius you into the shower."

The day before, the Ambassador had arranged for a local ladies' clothing shop to come bring clothing for Emma to wear. She, in effect, had her own private fashion show, and Emma was told to select everything and anything she wanted. When the women from the shop arrived, Emma had been uninterested in buying anything. She had not felt comfortable knowing that Ambassador Dalton was paying for her things. But, when she had told him that, he had turned to Natalie and given her free reign to select a new wardrobe for Emma. Both Natalie and her father seemed to think they could do anything they wanted where Emma was concerned. Emma did not doubt for a moment that Natalie would do as she threatened. So, she got up and began to gather a different outfit to wear.

*****

Viola Gianni stepped out of Heathrow Airport nearly dragging the Ambassador's Secretary behind her. The man had been green during the entire flight. Why in the world would someone who was terrified of planes opt for a career in the diplomatic field? She spied the long, dark limo with the American flag on the door. The driver, a young man in dark glasses and a black suit got out and opened the door for them as Viola shoved the man inside disgustedly.

After all these months, this guy shows up at her door claiming that they have gotten word about Emma, but then cannot say what it is. She would have to travel to England to speak with the ambassador privately. Anticipation mixed with dread in Viola's stomach. This must mean that Emma has been found, alive. If she were dead, they would have just told her, wouldn't they? Oh God, she thought, maybe they needed her to identify the body. This was hell. She needed to know one way or the other.

Finally, after a drive that seemed like it took days, they pulled up in front of a gorgeous mansion that had the American flag out front. The gates opened and they drove past a marine in the small gatehouse. Two more young marines guarded the door. August seemed to have finally recovered. He led her into the building and they took the elevator to the second floor. August led her through the outer office, past the desk that had his name on a plate, and opened the door of the ambassador's office.

"Mr. Ambassador," he intoned pompously, "Ms. Viola Gianni." Then he closed the door and left Viola alone with the man in the office. He stood, his back to her, looking out the window, as if gathering the courage to turn and face her. Finally, he turned and Viola's jaw dropped to see those green eyes after all these years. "Oh my God," she said. "You, it's you."

"Hello Viola," said Michael. "It's good to see you again. I have found our daughter. She is upstairs in my private apartment."

Viola felt her legs begin to give out. Michael took out his wand and a chair immediately appeared behind her. She fell into it. Viola gave a small bitter laugh. "After all these years, I'd convinced myself I'd imagined it, that you were crazy when you'd told me about being a wizard and that I had been hallucinating the things I saw you do."

"And for all these years, Viola, I had never understood how you could lie to me about your age. You were just seventeen and I was twenty-one. I fell in love with you and then found out that you'd been lying to me, telling me you were in college. Imagine my shock when I turned on the television and saw you on the news, learning that I'd had another daughter and that she was dead. I want to know what you told her about me. You had to have made up something. You're quite good at that."

"I told her mostly the truth. I was seventeen and had fallen in love with a man who was older. You'd already found out my real age and had left me by the time I discovered I was pregnant. I couldn't tell them your name or you'd have been arrested. So, I made up a name and pretended that I'd gotten involved with some sleazy traveling salesman who had given me a fake name. Have you told Emma yet?"

"No, I needed to see you first, to find out what you'd told her. And, she has been through hell, Viola. How could you let her go running off to Europe all alone? She was held against her will, hurt, and...God, who knows what else. She's pregnant, Viola. And to make matters worse, she believes herself to be in love with the...the...man, if you can call him that, who did it. I believe he has her under some spell or has drugged her with a strong love potion. I have managed to get her away from him for ninety days. That should give the magic time to wear off. But she is married to him and if she still wants him after this time period, I have to return her to this person."

Viola doubled over and began to cry. "Oh, God. My baby. My poor baby," she said. "You're right, it is my fault. I never should have let her go, but she'd worked so hard and saved her money ever since she was twelve. Coming to England was her dream. Do you have any idea how hard it is to never live your dream?"

Michael began to feel guilty. It was easy to blame Viola. But it still did not let him off the hook. After he'd found out her true age, he'd just vanished, angry at being deceived and worried about the trouble he'd be in if anyone ever found out. He'd never stopped to consider that he might be leaving a child behind. He should have made sure that Viola was okay. He had told Viola his own lie of omission. When they'd met, he'd never bothered to mention the fact that he was engaged to another. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you," he said.

"How did you find her, Michael?" Viola asked.

"After I saw your face on the news, I knew she was mine. I contacted our operatives here in England and they began to ask questions."

"But how did she end up...I can't even say it."

"It seems that the assailant in the alley had beaten and stabbed Emma, but this wizard, his name is Severus Snape, heard her screams and rescued her. The magical people here have their own government, monetary system, laws. There is a statute that says that a non-magical person who represents a threat to the secrecy of their world can be imprisoned. They did not feel completely confortable throwing her into the wizard prison, so they gave her over to this Snape person. They allowed the world to believe she was dead. Tell me about her, Viola. I want to know about her life."

Viola began to speak. She told him how her parents had kicked her out of the house when it had become obvious she was pregnant, the months of homelessness, sleeping in shelters and bus terminals. One day, she had gone into a small diner that had a Help Wanted sign in the window. While asking about the job, hunger and fatigue had overtaken her and she'd fainted. The lady who owned the place had felt sorry for her and hired her, letting her sleep on a couch in the back office in return for Viola working for her. Even if she didn't get paid, at least she'd had a roof over her head and food to eat.

Then, when she went into labor, a social worker at the hospital had helped her get a crappy apartment in the projects. She had received welfare and food stamps until she had recuperated and found a new job. She had scavenged some furniture off of people's lawns on garbage day.

She told him about Emma's birth and showed him some pictures she had in her purse. She even told him about the men she had brought home, hoping that someone would want her enough to marry her and give her and Emma a real home. She told him about Emma's excellence in school, the scholarship to college.

"I often thought how she must have gotten her brains, as well as her eyes, from you," she said. "Emma was always very lonely. She never had any friends over or was invited to parties. At her first school, she was the only white girl in the class and the neighborhood. So, I thought it was because of that. Maybe the other parents didn't want their kids playing with her. But when I got a better job, we moved to a nicer area. She was awarded a scholarship to a private school. But it was still the same. She kept saying she was friends with this girl named Amy, but I never met her. She never came over. I actually came to think she was making Amy up so I wouldn't worry. It turned out that Amy did exist, but she was never Emma's friend. After Emma disappeared, I got a postcard from her asking me to contact Amy's family and learned that she had never planned on coming to England with Emma. She'd lied to her and strung her along. She laughed at me and told me that she spoke to Emma only because Emma let her copy her homework."

"You should have contacted me, Viola. I would have helped you."

"I did go to the library and look you up. I read the announcement of your engagement in the Boston paper. I didn't want to bring you down or screw up your life too. It was bad enough that I'd ruined my own and my baby's. Your wife, what does she think of all this? Have you told her? Oh God. She's going to hate me."

"My wife died four years ago, in a car accident. We have a daughter; her name's Natalie. She's seventeen. She knows. She's thrilled to have a sister at last. We haven't told Emma who we are to her yet. I thought it best to wait until you got here."

"You said that Emma is pregnant?"

"Yes, the baby is due the second week of April. Emma was under that man's control for all of five minutes when he first raped her, Viola. That's the type of man we're dealing with. She was forced to submit, threatened with torture. They put this device around her throat. It is called the Silver Circlet. It tortured her for any disobedience or at the whim of this man. And after all this, she says she loves him."

"Abusers can be charming, Michael. I've had more than my share of them. And, like you said, she could be under some spell or something. When can I see her?"

"Now. We have to announce that she has been found, alive. We have to be on the same page with this. We will say that she had been badly beaten, had wandered off, frightened, confused. That she'd wandered onto a train, gotten off in a rural area, been taken in by someone and suffered from amnesia, had forgotten her identity until now. It's the most plausible story I can come up with. The local cops won't care enough to question it. They have enough on their plate, and I can always use magic to redirect them."

"Okay, Michael, whatever you think is best. Just take me to my daughter."

Michael escorted Viola out to the lobby and into the lift. Upstairs, he introduced her to his daughter, Natalie, who looked just like him, tall, and Emma's green eyes, but with red hair.

"It is so nice to meet you, Ms. Gianni," said Natalie. "The chauffeur brought up your luggage. I've placed it in the first bedroom on the left down this hall. I am so thrilled that we found Emma, that she is alive. And she is safe now. We will make this work. Once she is free of whatever dark magic he has used to control her, we will all be a family. As an only child, I had never thought I'd actually be an aunt. She's having a girl, you know. Did Daddy tell you?"

"It's nice to meet you, Natalie. Please, just call me Viola. No, he hadn't told me she was having a girl. Wow, I'm going to be a grandmother. I seem to be having trouble wrapping my mind around that one. Isn't there some spell or potion that you could use to cancel out whatever this man used?"

"No, Viola," said Michael. "Not without knowing exactly what he used, if he used anything. Also, she's pregnant and experimenting might be harmful to her or the baby."

They heard a door opening. Turning, they saw Emma emerge from her bedroom at the end of the long hall.

"Mommy," she said as she began to run toward her, or, rather, tried to run, holding her swollen stomach.

Viola dropped her purse and ran toward her. They embraced. Natalie and Michael walked into the parlor to allow them some privacy.

Viola led Emma into the parlor, not wanting to take her hands off of her, frightened it was just a dream and she'd wake up, and Emma would still be gone. Natalie sat on the sofa, looking down at her hands, similar to how Emma did it when she was nervous. Michael stood looking out the window. He turned around as they entered the parlor.

"Emma, Viola, please be seated. It's time for us all to talk."

Emma sat on the sofa next to Natalie and her mother sat on her other side. She looked around, confused at how somber they were being. "Yes, Ambassador Dalton, I've been thinking, I really want to pay you back for all the clothes you bought me. Mommy? Did they ever give you my stuff back, from the alley? I had over two thousand dollars in travelers' checks."

"They're still holding it all for evidence at the trial, Emma," said Viola. "But we need to talk about something else now. You see, Emma, Michael and I are old friends."

"Emma," said Michael. "Now that your mother is here, I see no reason to keep the truth from you any longer. Natalie told me that you asked her why I cared about what had happened to you. I have every reason to care, Emma, and every right. I want to make sure that you are kept safe and not being abused. I met your mother years ago. She was in a coffee shop near the college I was attending. I assumed that she was a college student, and we began going out." Michael paused and looked at Viola.

"Emma," said Viola, "Michael is your father."

"Excuse me? No, this isn't possible," Emma said. "I asked Severus and the Nurse at Hogwarts. They both told me that the gene for magic was dominant, that I would certainly be having a magical child. If you were my father, I would be a witch."

"What you were told is correct, Emma. Most of the time, it does happen like that. But, rarely, even a witch and a wizard can have a non-magical child. In America it really does not matter to us. Here, however, with the superior attitude that the Magical community has, it is considered to be an embarrassment or a tragedy."

"But, my mother told me that you took off when she told you she was pregnant. She said that she never even knew your real name."

"I lied, Emma," admitted Viola. "I was ashamed because I'd lied to Michael about my age and afraid that I'd ruin his life if I told the truth."

"I did not abandon you, Emma. I never even knew that you existed. When I found out that your mother was just seventeen, I freaked out. I was scared, worried that I'd be arrested, my life ruined. So, I disappeared, never stopping to even think that I might have left her in a bad situation. I only figured it out this past summer, when I saw your mother on television, your picture, your age. I nearly lost it. To discover that I'd had another child and she was dead was terrible. I began making inquiries as to what had happened to you and found out that the ministry had not permitted you to be released. I told Natalie the truth about what I'd done and we came here."

Emma sat, quiet. Her face turned red and she felt embarrassed that this man, her own father, had been forced to stand there in that courtroom and listen to that testimony of what had happened to her. He believed that Severus had used her most poorly. No wonder he hated Severus so much. But it didn't matter. She loved him and wanted to be with him.

"Emma, what's wrong? Say something," her mother said.

"You're not going to let me go back to Severus, are you? This isn't fair. You can't come storming into my life and keep me from him. We're having a baby. We want a home, a life together. He loves me, he really does. Please, please just let me go back to Hogwarts."

"Emma, please stop. You shouldn't let yourself get so upset," said Viola. "It's not good for the baby."

"How can I help it? He's my husband. He married me. He made everything all right. He didn't have to marry me, you know. He didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do."

"Emma, by placing you into his custody, your right to choose was compromised. You were denied your freedom. I only want to make sure that you are choosing to stay with him freely."

"But this isn't your decision. I'm not a little girl," Emma protested.

"I know that. This ninety day period is just so we can all be certain that he is your decision, made freely and in a clearheaded manner," said Michael. "I will not compromise on this."

"Can I at least write him?

Michael stared at her. He so wanted to say no. But then he remembered how she had sat at dinner the past two nights, despondent, not eating properly. Ever the diplomat, he had finally found something he could use to negotiate with. "I will permit you to send him letters, one per week, contingent upon you calming down, eating the way you should, and allowing us to take care of you. He will not be permitted to respond. You will give me each letter for inspection and you will not provide him with any information on the location of this embassy. Agreed?"

"Yes, anything. I'll agree to anything if I can communicate with him. Oh, thank you, Ambassador. And you'll see. In ninety days, I will simply love him more than I do today. The only effect this separation will have will be making my heart grow fonder for him," she said, twisting her wedding ring.

"Oh," said Michael, holding out his hand, "the ring. Give it to me. I hadn't thought of it before, but he might have bewitched it too."

"It's my wedding ring," she said. "I can't take it off. It's bad luck."

"Do you want to send that letter or not? Give me the ring, Emma. You'll get it back in three months, if you still want it by then."

Sadly, Emma obeyed. She pulled the ring from her finger and dropped it into his hand.

*****

Severus paced back and forth in Dumbledore's office. He kept raking his fingers through his hair nervously. "You promised that everything would work out fine. You said that the marriage would not be overturned and Emma could not be taken away from me. How did this happen?" he asked for the hundredth time since Dumbledore had entered that room he'd been kept in, stupidly waiting while Emma had been stolen away from him.

"Severus," said Professor Dumbledore, "it is money and politics. Most of the people in that courtroom Monday didn't give a damn about Emma. They want to placate the Ambassador. The only thing that kept them from voiding the marriage was the fact that she is pregnant and in this country, in cases of mixed marriages, the parent who is the witch or wizard is considered to have greater parental rights than the Muggle."

"There's something strange about Ambassador Dalton. He is too involved. Until we met, I thought he was trying to make a name for himself for politcal gain. But, in that courtroom, he looked at me like this was personal. There was hate in his eyes. He wanted to kill me."

"I agree, Severus. I saw it too. I cannot imagine what is behind it, but I am determined to find out. The Ambassador sent out a press release today. Gloria Shamstrung from the Wizengamut sent me a copy by owl. You remember Goria; she was at the wedding. She and your mother had been friends as girls. Here, read it for yourself," Albus said, picking up a clipping from the London Times from his desk.

Severus reached out and began to peruse it. "They have announced that she has been found alive. They are saying that she suffers from amnesia from head injuries caused when she'd been beaten in that alley. They have flown her mother in. Headmaster, do you know where they are keeping her?"

"Yes, but I am not telling you. If you go there, you'll only make matters worse. He could use it as an excuse to keep her away longer. Listen, I was thinking. On Sunday, I will go there myself. I will ask to see Emma and try to find out what is going on."

Professor," said Severus, "Thank you. You can take her the Strengthening Potion Madam Pomfry makes for her. Will you tell her I miss her and that...well, you know."

"Yes, Severus, I'll tell her. I know."

"Maybe I could go with you. I could put a disillusionment Charm on myself. I just want to see her."

"No, Severus, I wouldn't put it past the Ambassador to have some sort of spells in place to detect that trick."

"There must be some way for me to see her."

Professor Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Perhaps there is a way, Severus. Let me think about it a while."