"I'm home. Boys, really, one more grumpy till person who tells me snarls at me because she hates her job, and I'll never go shopping again. Nobody's friendly any..." she stepped into the kitchen, and looked rather — nice. Good. Beautiful. Yes.
"Snape," she said breathlessly, staring wild-eyed at him.
"Granger," he stood up from his chair and tried to, well, he did try to smile encouragingly at her. Didn't quite work.
"We'll just...Teddy's toys," said Potter and dragged the pup and Weasley basically from the kitchen as Granger dumped a few bags on the table, in front of him and enlarged them to even bigger size.
She unpacked silently, didn't look at him, didn't say anything. Just unpacked her groceries. And yes, he had to agree. She looked a little off and a little tired. But she hadn't looked at him after that first breathless exclamation of his name. Astonishing that the idiots had vacated the kitchen so willingly but he didn't doubt for one moment that they had found means to listen in on their conversation. Not that there was a conversation to begin with.
Whenever he went to the shops with Eleanor, she made him help put away the things they had bought. And Granger had bought rather a lot. The quicker she put the things away, the quicker she had to look at him. Couldn't avoid his eyes and with ease, he moved around the kitchen and grabbed a packet of cornflakes and handed it to her. For a moment, her eyes flew to him, then back to the cornflakes. She nodded briefly and put them away just in time for him to hand her three frozen pizzas. He frowned. Eleanor despised the stuff and so did he. Compared to any reasonable cooking, this was crap and by the way she looked at him, she knew it too.
The bags grew empty and when she turned around again, after he had given her two cartons of milk, he could see how she swallowed.
"Erm," she said, folding the bags neatly, "what are you doing here?"
He was ready for that question. Very, very ready. "I need a wand," he replied.
She nodded. "I don't have one spare though."
"Good answer," he remarked and smirked. Not that she could see him smirk. She just kept on folding and unfolding the bags. "But not the one I was looking for."
"Oh, okay, well then, thanks for stopping by and have fun getting a wand? That better?"
"Hm, no," he shook his head. "The correct answer would be...why don't I accompany you to Ollivander's, Snape?"
"I...what?"
"Go with me," he said.
"Why?"
"Because with you there, the heroic Wizarding public is less likely to lynch me. Or string me up by my toes or other delicate parts of my body," he smirked. "It's an entirely selfish reason and I suppose I could have asked your two idiotic flatmates but..."
"Well, why didn't you?"
He arched his eyebrows, "I am accustomed to your apparating skills. And I think a car, as long as it stays on the ground, would be very much frowned upon in Diagon Alley."
"You could apparate yourself," she argued weakly, still infuriatingly folding the bags.
"I suppose I could," he shrugged. "But then I would still have the problem of having to..."
"Okay, I get it. You don't want to go with Harry or Ron but why go with someone at all? They won't lynch you. They won't kill you or string you up. They look up to you and I assume you have got notice from the Ministry that a wand is okay again?"
"In a matter of speaking, yes," he replied and clenched his hands into fists. She was stubborn. She didn't want to go. Maybe those two were right but...oh no. No, they were right. The trouble with Granger was much more familiar than he had thought it would be. Shutting people out, sticking to the very familiar, keeping away from those that could potentially hurt you. How apt. How very, very apt.
"I want you to go with me," he said clearly.
She shook her head.
"I'm asking you to please go to Diagon Alley with me."
She shook her head again. "No, Snape. I..."
"Please," he repeated and felt utterly ridiculous. Begging a woman to do anything. Had never done this in his entire life. Not ever. Not once. And here he was — uncertain still whether she was worth it at all. Most likely she was but most likely didn't mean that he was entirely certain.
"I couldn't..."
He had enough of this folding bags, unfolding bags, not looking at him. She was no coward. He knew she wasn't. He reached out to her and in slow motion, he brought his finger to her chin, tipping it up, making her look into his face. She wasn't crying. That, alone was positive. But she looked rather confused and he could feel her shiver slightly. Ah. Well, that was truly interesting. Touching her made her shiver. He tried another smile, then reached out with his other hand until it touched hers and as he had done before for their last apparition, he laced his fingers through hers, squeezing gently.
"Go to Diagon Alley with me," he said and surprised himself by how gentle he sounded. If she said no now, he would leave. He wouldn't look back and he would give up trying to try to fall in love with someone. He would, then, definitely, not even try to try, if she refused now. He would let go off her immediately and would leave this house, get back to his car and drive back home, without a wand. He didn't need one for his life without the possibility of her in it. If she didn't want to go with him, she would most certainly be ashamed to be seen with him. And that was something, he couldn't possibly live with. Not ever.
Slowly, her eyes searched his face and then she nodded, squeezed his fingers in turn. "Okay," she said and smiled weakly. "If you want to go with me."
He nodded sharply. "I think I said so before."
She nodded again and without letting go off his hand, she walked towards the kitchen door and through it (miraculously, no sign of the two idiots), through the corridor and out the front door before she looked around, looked at him, and apparated with him clinging to her hand.
.
She wondered if he was messing with her brain again. Coming there, to her home, being absolutely silent, then helping her unpack her shopping, then wanting to go to Diagon Alley with her and her alone? It was disconcerting, or at least had been until the moment that he had tipped her head up to him and looked into her eyes.
She had been lost for a moment and she hadn't been able to control the shiver that had run through her at such a contact. Just a finger, remaining on her chin, forcing her to stop looking at the dirty shopping bags and it was all it took to make her shiver and make her knees wobbly.
And then, to completely tip her world askew, he had taken her hand again. His fingers, strong and warm, between hers. This was...not even he could be so evil to mess with her like this. Not even him.
Or maybe...
Particularly not him. The way he had looked at her and had said, "Go to Diagon Alley with me." What chance did she stand? He would break her heart, and would do so without even knowing he did. He would just crush her and she let him. Pathetic. She was truly pathetic. Had acted like a bloody lovesick puppy back in the kitchen when he only wanted, selfishly, her help. Only because he didn't want to go alone.
Well. If that was what he wanted. She could act normally. She talk to him. She could help him find a wand and she could most certainly help him fight off any lovestruck witches who admired his brooding, dangerous aura. They were more likely to encounter those anyway than anyone who wanted to kill him — but he couldn't know that.
She took a deep breath, shut the feeling of his hand holding hers completely away in a box in her brain and apparated them to the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. She didn't do this for any particular reason. Just because she knew that they were less likely to land on top of someone there.
She felt dizzy the moment she landed but Snape wouldn't let go off her hand. He stood there, very still and very erect next to her and the only thing that seemed to move was...no. He couldn't. He didn't. Not possible.
She focused her attention on her hand, the hand he was holding. This couldn't...he was stroking her bloody hand. He was moving his thumb along her skin. Was stroking her hand. Hallucination, bad dream, reality, she wasn't sure.
Nevertheless, she shot him as bright a smile as she could and disentangled her hand from his, letting it fall limply to her side, the skin tingling where he had stroked it and held it.
"Let's just..." she began and nodded her head towards the spot where Ollivander sold his wands.
She looked at him again, his eyes burning on her. He smiled and it wasn't malicious or evil or anything else. He just smiled warmly at her and his hand twitched in the way that it brushed against hers. Or maybe he had moved his hand on purpose to have it touch hers. There was nothing she could do to prevent the blush from creeping up her neck to her face and he saw it. All of it. The entire blush and he didn't smirk at her, he didn't laugh at her, he didn't even say anything. He just looked at her curiously and began walking. Nothing more. Nothing less.
85. Right Ear Advantage
An experiment is possibly in which a subject sits with a set of earphones on and is given two different sound signals simultaneously, one through each earphone. For example, through from one earphone comes the sound go or dog, and through the other, at exactly the same time, comes the sound da or cat. When asked to say what was heard, the subject has come to be known as the right ear advantage for linguistic sounds.
(Yule, 1996)
The shop still looked the same. So many years had passed and Ollivander had certainly seen a lot of things but it hadn't changed at all. It was crammed full with little boxes and a rickety chair stood in one corner. His mother had taken him back then, furtively, by train. Long journey and she had a big problem explaining their long absence to his father. Not that it had mattered to him then. All that had mattered, back when the world had been so young and almost innocent, it had mattered that he had a shiny new wand fizzing in his pocket. He had to hide it, yes, but it was there and he could feel its warmth.
Much like he could feel her warmth now, her hand close to his, unmoving even though she walked. He wasn't sure what he felt about this. About this rush towards her. It was, he realised, a sudden rush. It was something that had begun to slowly creep forwards...basically when she had hung her hair in his soup. Not that he liked her, for heaven's sake, no, but the fact that she was still there and had no trouble to sit next to him and accept what he had done. He wasn't sure when exactly but he knew he didn't want anyone else by his side while he was choosing his second, first wand. Not even Eleanor and that was saying a lot.
The people in Diagon Alley, he noticed, all stared at them as they had made their way quickly to Ollivander's. Some had looked like they had wanted to pull out their wands and kill him on sight and others had just...stared. With open mouths.
But — he was there to buy a wand, and nothing else. And Granger even had some Galleons left that she gave him for his Pounds. He probably wouldn't have survived Gringott's. Or maybe he would have.
No matter. He had to focus on the wands and on the little man that grinned at him now as he came towards him.
"Mister Snape," he said kindly, much kindlier than he had expected, hoped for, deserved. "Ebony and dragon heartstring."
Severus nodded and he felt her shift slightly towards him.
"And Miss Granger. Vine wood and dragon heartstring was your first and now it's unicorn hair and..."
"Oak," she smiled shyly.
"Ah yes, a walker between the worlds now, isn't that right?" the old man said wisely, making Severus look at her a little strangely but she only nodded.
"We're here for," she began but was interrupted by Ollivander.
"Mister Snape's new wand. I've been expecting you. It's a shame about the old one. It was rather a masterpiece of mine, I must say. But still, the Ministry wanted to show their power and they did. Shame it took them so long to realise that...oh but I'm babbling," he smiled.
His head spun slightly. Maybe it was a delayed after-effect of the apparition. Or maybe it was the smell that brought back so many memories. Or maybe it was her, standing so close that her elbow touched his arm.
"Shall we try this one?" Ollivander asked, summoning a box to him. "Chestnut and phoenix feather, 12 inches. Swishy."
He took the wand in hand and there was absolutely nothing. No feeling at all. No magic surging through him and if he hadn't experienced his Occlumency, and with only that wand, he would have possibly never believed that he had his magic back.
"Obviously not," the wandmaker said. "This one then. Ash and Phoenix tail, 13 inches, swishy."
There was a slight fizz. Just a little and enough for a tired red spark to erupt from it. But he had got better results with Granger's wand.
"No, not that one either," Mister Ollivander grumbled and pulled magically three more boxes from the shelves. Fir, conifer, cherry with various cores, none for him. Five more boxes appeared, then ten. The entire desk was littered with open boxes and wands lying in them and he could even see her next to him getting a bit impatient.
"Not to worry, not to worry, we will find the right one yet," Ollivander tried to sooth and summoned another ten boxes. And none of them gave more than a few tired sparks.
He was tired, he was exhausted and truth be told, he was a little disappointed. His first wand had found him almost right away. There hadn't been a lot of waving around at all.
"Oh," the wandmaker said suddenly and stormed into the back of his shop, rummaging around.
"I'm sure he will find something. Or that the wand will find you," said Granger softly and was smiling at him. She rather lit up as she smiled and he wondered, briefly, whether she had lost her shyness now. Whether she lost her inacceptance of the way he had wanted to touch her and her hesitation. Maybe she understood now that he truly wanted her to be there with him. Not because he needed the protection, but because he wanted to spend time with her. And this task, she mastered perfectly. She wasn't grumpy at the long wait and only annoyed for him. Not for herself.
"Mister Snape, I think this is the one for you," Ollivander came back, panting and breathless. "Beech and dragon heartstring."
Reverently, Severus took the wand and as he waved it, out came three tired and gloomy looking sparks.
"I doubt it," he said snarkily.
"I can see that," the wandmaker replied less politely.
"Would it help if we went for a cup of tea or a cup of coffee or anything in the meantime and came back later?" offered Granger and he was close to hitting her. He would not leave without a wand, wouldn't go out there without being able to protect himself — and her — and she...but she smiled at him and he understood. She hadn't said it to drag him away but because she could see his temper rising dreadfully and his own frustration growing steadily and magnificently.
