When greeting over a distance people smile and nod; and if very friendly, they raise their eyebrows with a rapid movement, keeping the eyebrows maximally raised for approximately 1/6th of a second. [...]The pattern signals readiness for contact, as can be deduced from the contextual and sequential analyses. In Central Europe the eyebrow flash is used mainly as a greeting to good friends and relatives, but if people are reserved they do not use it. [...] In some cultures the eyebrow flash is suppressed. In Japan, for example, it is considered as indecent. In Samoa, by contrast, it is regularly used in greeting and also as a general sign of approval or agreement, when seeking confirmation, and when beginning a statement in a dialogue. We use the sign in approximately the same situation though we perform it less readily in a greeting encounter. We use it in addition frequently during flirting, when strongly approving, when thanking, and during discussion — for example, when emphasizing a statement and thus calling for attention. We are normally not aware that we use this signal, but we respond strongly to it in greeting situations. We smile back and often answer with an eyebrow flash. However, if we are not familiar with the person we experience embarrassment. [...]

By looking for other contexts in which eyebrow raising occurs we get hints as to its possible phylogenetic origin. People regularly raise their eyebrows during surprise and hold them in this position for a while. The same movement pattern occurs during a conversation when people as questions. [...]

Finally, we raise the eyebrows during disapproval, indignation, and when we loot at a person in an admonishing way, a pattern reminiscent of the threat stare of a number of infra-human primates. Again this admonishing look at the same time signals attention.

(Eibl-Eibesfeldt in Hinde, 1972)

"Why?" Granger asked, and for a second, Severus dragged his eyes off the road and to hers. Again that wide-eyed look that, if he didn't know better, would certainly imply that she was rather dim-witted and hadn't just listened to him. Looked as if she couldn't draw the simplest deductions. He quickly turned his eyes back on the road, just in time not to run over a swerving bicycle driver. Those should remain off the roads.

"Did you not listen to me?" asked he and he felt his eyebrows rising ever so slightly.

"You don't want her to go there because Malfoy wants them to be together?" she asked, twisting in her seat further to face him.

"No, Granger. But if she gets there, she will be married to Draco within the next few months."

"But why? I mean you only said that he needed fresh blood, not that he needs it now. Wait, that sounded a bit vampiry. You know what I mean..."

"Unfortunately, I do," he had to smirk. He had heard others describe him as a vampire but never Lucius.

"And?"

"And nothing. Aideen is not fresh blood," he said and, because he truly didn't want to explain further, he fumbled blindly with the radio and tried to switch it on. Barely a second later, his hand was pushed away — pushed away — and it was Granger who turned it on, looking at him, he thought. Pushed his hand away.

"He's very sweet," said Aideen, quietly and handed the boy who still looked like Snape, "and quite quiet and happy. Gran gave him a bit banana about one and a half hours ago so he will be hungry again soon, I suppose."

Hermione nodded — but this wasn't what she wanted to talk about with Aideen and she could see that she was itching for news as well. Now was the opening. Mrs Callaghan had dragged Severus into the living room (probably to talk to him) and she sat alone, with Ted, in the kitchen.

"Aideen," said she — slowly and carefully, looking at her. When she had met her and until that thing with the abduction and of course with Draco's whatever that had been, she had always looked so happy, rosy cheeks and all that. Her eyes always sparkling and now — her skin had a greyish tinge and her eyes were dulled by pain. Her arm was still in the cast as well and she had to speak in front of the Wizengamot. Wouldn't work if she was still unprepared — but now was not the time. Now, she had to talk to her about Draco and...

Snape was, in some ways, correct. If Aideen was merely accepted because she was in no way related to any Wizards at all, had no Wizarding blood, then it was better if those two stayed apart. However, she, other than Snape, had seen Draco and how he had reacted when he had told him about Aideen going back to Uni and living alone there. And that was the component that Snape didn't know about. Draco loved her. Draco was hurt, Draco wanted to be with her. Otherwise, she would listen to his advice, well, command.

But like this? No. Not that she would drag Aideen to Malfoy Manor. No, that place would give anyone the creeps. Another way to get those two together again. In the Muggle world. Or half-and-half. But not solely the Wizarding world, as she suspected, Malfoy wanted. Would probably isolate Aideen and keep her only as a broodmare. That wouldn't do.

"I saw Draco," she said quickly.

"Gran said," replied Aideen and cuddled Ted to her chest, stroking his chubby baby-fingers with her slim ones.

"He's, erm...shite, Aideen, I won't lie and tell you that he's miserable. He is, but he tries not to show it. He's retreated back to his old self and...:"

"What was his old self?" she asked quietly.

"He looked down on everything and everyone and he belittled all people. He believed that Muggles and Muggleborns like me were not even worth talking to, or looking at. He thinks he's better and..."

"Why?"

"It's an...you know how the Nazis believed they were better than the Jews? It's the same principle. I don't know if there was a certain point which started the hatred of the so-called purebloods against half-bloods or Muggleborns or Muggles, but quintessentially, they feel threatened by Muggle society. So they think they're better and Draco's father was a big believer in those things. He followed..."

"Lord Voldemort," interrupted Aideen "Gran explained."

"Draco didn't?"

Aideen shook her head and rocked Ted, who had just yawned terribly and almost lip-splittingly. "He only said that he was a Wizard, as was Severus, or had been Severus and that his aunt had taken me because of him..." she stopped and pressed Ted closer to herself, almost cuddling him to death.

"He said it just like that? Idiot..."

"No, it was a bit more elaborate," said Aideen tiredly, brushing her fingers through Ted's almost-Snape hair. "But in essence, that was it."

"And you wanted to..."

"I wanted to get a clear head. I didn't want him to leave," a tear trickled down her face and Ted, who seemed to notice her distress made gurgling noises at her and pressed a probably very wet and very sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"Deen sad," the little boy said.

She smiled at the little one and kissed him back.

"He...Aideen, he loves you. I don't doubt that. But his father...I don't trust his father."

She shook her head and buried her head into Ted's Snapeish hair and said nothing anymore.

"Well?" asked Eleanor, almost impatiently. "Is he coming back?" She had babysitted, she deserved an answer. Well, in all honesty, Aideen had watched over Teddy, had cooed and had played with him, had fed him and had talked to him. That girl...she couldn't possibly let her go. It was only about fifteen minutes to Uni with the bus, and she couldn't let her granddaughter live alone. They could redecorate the guestroom, turn it into a room for Aideen only, but she wouldn't allow her to live alone. She wanted Aideen with her and she wanted her girl happy. And she hadn't been happy since that incident — even less happy since Draco had left.

That silly boy. She wanted to seriously hit his father for doing this to the boy and her granddaughter. Kick his groin, too. And Draco too, for actually listening to his father.

"He isn't," said Severus. "And I believe it's best for Aideen that he doesn't."

"What? Why?" she shrieked. Well, almost shrieked. She didn't usually shriek.

Severus, the poor boy, looked incredibly tired and worn out and for a brief moment, Eleanor hoped that this woman of his wasn't just a friend but was rather someone who could console him. Not in the purely physical way like man and wife and maybe a hug and a kiss would be fine. And helpful for that poor boy who had helped her and her granddaughter so much and who had even gone into the Malfoy's lion den to get Draco back for her and for Aideen. And now he looked even more drawn than before, more tired, more exhausted.

"It's a long story," he said tiredly. "But he is not good for her. She will get hurt beyond everything imaginable. She will get hurt like never before and she will be kept away from her family."

"What? Why? Draco wouldn't do that."

"Draco is still under the thumb of his father and Lucius's influence is less than sane. Eleanor, keep her away from Draco. It will hurt, yes, but it will not be good for either of them."

"Severus...I don't know you like this;" she whispered, shocked and aghast.

"Lucius will say the same thing about me, I'm sure, but I do not trust him. He has got it in his head that Draco must produce healthy children and according to him, that is only possible with a Muggle, and since Aideen is there, she seems the logical choice. But if she agrees to this, she and Draco will not be happy. She will be made to live with them, be under their rule and as a Muggle, she will always be the outsider, she will never be accepted. She will grow lonely, and she will grow depressed."

"But she loves him. I believe that," Eleanor said, convinced. But what he said...she hadn't seriously considered their future together — but what would it mean? For Draco, with his magic, to be selling suits for the rest of his life and being half supported by his wife? Aideen the would-be doctor and him working in retail? That would never work. Men in general didn't like women earning more, being smarter, being better and she couldn't honestly see Draco as someone who would be happy to stay home with the children — and that was clearly a woman's job in the first place.

"I don't doubt Draco loves her. But they are world's apart," he replied wearily. "I..."

"Thank you for trying," she answered honestly. "What does he say, by the way?"

"He didn't want to speak with me," snorted Severus. "He's back to his old spoiled ways and I can't blame him."

"Hm," she said, arching her eyebrows disapprovingly. "Do you think you can manage to bring him here?"

"Erm, I have, maybe, an idea," said Hermione, slowly.

"What?" asked Aideen, her eyebrows raised slightly, Ted asleep on her lap, his head resting on her chest, his mouth open adorably. She would make a good sitter for him for future situations like that — her having to help Snape and...oh better not think about it. She loved the little one and Hermione had to admit that she was just the tiniest bit jealous. It had taken herself rather long to warm up to the toddler and Aideen had barely spent half a day with him and they got along swimmingly. Unfair. But oh well.

"I could send you Harry's owl and you can maybe, you know, if you like, owl Draco. It's like the post but quicker."

"I know that you send owls. Severus told me," she said a little coldly, stonily. "Not Draco, not you. You all lied to me. Severus had to tell me and Severus is the one who lost so much thanks to all of you. He protected Draco, didn't he? He protected you."

"He told you that?" asked Hermione, shocked.

"No of course not," she spat and almost roughly, pulled the boy from her lap and dumped him in Hermione's lap. Well, it wasn't dumped, really. It was putting there gently, but her expression was thunderous. Hermione didn't understand where that sudden change of tune came from — and so sudden. Ten minutes of silence and Aideen was angry as a provoked hag.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly.

"You think you can fix everything with magic and with owls. Didn't you just say that it was a bad idea to get on with Draco and with Draco's father? That eventually, he'd look down on me? That deep down, he thinks I'm less than him. He does now, doesn't he? He didn't wait for me to calm down a bit. And that aunt of his, I was easy prey for her, wasn't I? The closest I want to come to a wizard in the future is Severus," she hissed and vanished out of the door quickly.

She sat, defeated. That had most certainly not gone as planned...not at all. She had counted on the fact that both of them loved one another...and if Aideen reacted like that, was her assumption correct? If Aideen didn't love Draco, she didn't have to try to get them together at all — that'd be futile and a wasted effort. She snuggled Ted closer to her chest and smelled his hair and his skin and dropped a kiss on his head. It seemed likely that she was only lashing out. It was possible that she was just as hurt as Draco was and that she projected her hurt onto magic in general. And wariness of magic wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a Muggle. If she was aware of that, however...

She felt so stupid now, fighting so hard to not have her obliviated. It would have made things so much simpler. She wouldn't be hurt, Draco would have a real reason to be hurt and she wouldn't hate her. Hermione closed her eyes, thinking about the fact that it had maybe been partly her fault that Aideen had just ran out of the kitchen, that she was angry, that she still relied on magic for almost anything and even magical means of postal service and that she hadn't understood that Aideen was, maybe, a little afraid of magic. And she had gone on and on about magic. Well, not quite but mentioning that owl had been a bad idea.

Hermione groaned, her eyes tightly shut. She wasn't sure why she still sat there, in that kitchen but it seemed rude to just leave.

"And?" she heard that voice again, deep and rumbling. Her head wanted to shoot up and look at him but it didn't need to. She knew what he looked like standing there. His hands would be knitted together behind his back, his head held high and his back erect, his right eyebrow would be arched and his mouth would be in a straight line.

"And she hates magic, I think," she said tiredly into Ted's hair.

"So you could persuade her to..."

"I don't want to persuade her," her head shot up now. "I believe they'd go well together if both of them could find some kind of middle ground." She glared at him and he did look exactly what she had envisioned him to look inside her head. Just like that — well, his eyebrow was arched up even higher. "I'm going home," she said and picked up Ted — who, while he slept looked nothing like Snape. Looked more like himself. A blend between Tonks and Remus. Like a young, sleeping child.