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teddy_radiatorTitle: Take These Stars Down To The World
Rating: R
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): Reference to Physical Abuse.
(Highlight to View) Prompt: Hermione creates a potion just for Severus, one which he doesn't believe he wants or needs (SS/HG or SS & HG).
Note: Special thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stgulik, not only for the delicious prompt, but for her Herculean effort to pull this together. Thank you for putting up with me.
This story is inspired by the film Chocolat, which in turn was based on the novel Chocolat by Joanne Harris. This fanfic is based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling, and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers, including but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended by the posting of this fanfic.
Summary: Severus' business, Potions Potentes, is not doing very well. In fact, he plans to shut his doors for good. Just when all seems lost, Hermione Granger arrives in town to open her own apothecary, bringing with her a very special brew. What exactly is she up to, and what exactly is this cure-all potion of hers? If there is one thing Severus knows more than most, it is that nothing is ever given without a price.
Thank you all for your encouraging comments. I'm really glad you like the story.
Chapter Seven: Potions Potentes
Severus was still trembling and breathing hard when he reached his shop. He flung the door open with such force the frame bounced against the wall with a bone-rattling crash. The woman and her son jumped, exclaiming in surprise and fear, and the boy ran into his mother's protective arms. Severus froze; it was the Belldon witch and her boy. He had completely forgotten about them.
Guiltily, he turned away, ostensibly to close the door, but also to give them all a moment to compose themselves. He was long past the desire for the entire population of Wizarding Britain to associate him solely with fear. A quick glance in their direction told him they had settled somewhat, although the child still regarded him the same way he had once eyed Nagini.
The woman was much younger than he had originally thought; no more than twenty-two or twenty-three years old. He could not recall seeing her at Hogwarts, though she would have been of age to attend at least her first year before he left. Taking in her clothing, an odd mixture of Muggle and Magical, and the clumsy way she tried to hide her bruises behind a thick layer of makeup, Severus deduced she was Muggleborn. That would explain her absence from Hogwarts during those days; her family would have been too afraid to send her to school.
The young boy, however, was every bit as magical as Severus himself had been at that age. He had a fine-boned look of a child who liked studies more than sports. His black hair was straight and fine, his olive skin smooth, his eyes large and expressive. His magical signature thrummed and sizzled around him, almost visible to the naked eye. This boy would receive his Hogwarts letter in a few years, Severus had no doubt.
He pushed his disastrous encounter with Hermione to the back of his mind. "My apologies, Madam," he began stiffly. At her meek nod, he crossed to his counter, giving them a wide berth. "Now, how may I help you?"
She blushed, an unflattering, blotchy flush under the makeup. "M-Miss Granger said you might be able to help me, M-Mister Snape. I'm not really sure how. She gave me a good Anti-nausea Potion, and some Bruise Paste, and she gave Anthony a sweetie, but she said to come here all the same."
"Mrs…Belldon, is it? I recall a Chester Belldon…"
"My h-husband," she whispered. The boy stared ahead stonily, refusing to look up. Severus recalled her husband well. Chet Belldon had been another one of Minerva's little scrotes, a fourth-year Gryffindor during his final year as Headmaster. He'd been an arrogant little toe rag then; the kind of shit that bullied all the younger kids and sucked up to the higher years. He'd always preyed on the weaker ones, but bowed and scraped around the Carrows like a proper little Death Eater in training...
Severus sighed impatiently. He had no business interfering in other people's lives. He would tell them there was nothing he could do. This was beyond calling in a favour for an old colleague, or helping a defeated woman dry out. This had much less to do with the two individuals standing before him, and more to do with the one they would face when they went home. He looked at the two of them, holding on to one another, and thought, What if Mum had possessed the wherewithal to stand up to Tobias Snape? He thought of every bad decision, every sacrifice, every heartache he had endured, simply because he had been conditioned to believe there were no other choices for witches like her—and children like him.
In the end, looking at their tired, strained faces, his decision was not made based on Hermione Granger's challenge for him to be himself, but the roughshod history he shared with his own abusive father. He left the safety of his counter and walked around to face her. Quietly, he asked, "Madam Belldon, are you thinking about leaving him?"
She turned away from the question as if warding off a blow. "I have nowhere to go."
"If you did, would that make a difference in your decision?"
She pondered the question. "If I could guarantee I wouldn't be separated from Anthony, I might." She pressed a protective hand against her swollen belly. "I won't let anyone take my children away from me."
"That is understandable." With his wand, Severus traced an elaborate symbol in the air. A small piece of elegant parchment puffed into existence and floated down to Madam Belldon's outstretched hand. "Read it aloud," he said.
"'The Halfway Home is located at 726 Yursaafe Place, Knightsbridge, London.'" She stared at the parchment in wide-eyed wonder.
"This is a safe house run by a friend of mine, Narcissa Malfoy," Severus explained. "She is the chairwoman for an organisation that helps women and children who were widowed and orphaned in the war."
"But we're not-"
"Mention that I sent you, and have her Floo me with any questions. I assure you your children will not be separated from you." Madam Belldon continued to stare at the parchment. "That's the easy part, Cynthia," he continued. "If you leave, you'll have to leave for good. And you must tell no one who might inform on you, like his friends or relations. If he knows where you're going, he'll just follow you and make trouble. I know."
He took her hand; it was cold, and he could feel it tremble as he closed her fingers over the note. "You will have to be brave, and you will have to be certain. But Madam Malfoy will do everything in her formidable power to help you, if you decide to do this. Give it some thought, and make your preparations as discreetly as you can. You will need to put a bag together for yourself and Anthony, and squirrel away a little money. You may have to wait until a good opportunity presents itself.
"But remember, there is no getting better with this, Cynthia." He could see she still longed to be convinced. After a brief hesitation, he decided she needed to hear more—she needed his own story. "My father was a violent man who took out his anger on my mother and me," he confessed. "We were very much like you and Anthony. He caused … irreparable damage, and much of it was not physical. And even though Da was Muggle, by the time I grew old enough to fight back, I was too conditioned to accept his abuse as normal. And every day you stay, it becomes more dangerous, and more normal." He looked down at the handsome little boy. Quietly, he said, "I would not wish that on this child or any other."
Cynthia hastily wiped a tear from her face. "You must think I'm a fool," she choked.
"I think no such thing. I do think that you are stronger and more courageous that you believe yourself to be. Even considering taking the next step is an act of bravery."
Finally, she nodded and placed the parchment in her bag. "Thank you, Mister Snape. I'll think about all you said." She hugged her little boy. "Come along, love. We need to hurry to get home before… before your dad."
"Good luck, Madam Belldon. Be careful, but be canny."
She rewarded him with a tremulous smile, and together she and Anthony headed for the door. As she reached for the knob, Severus impulsively called out, "Madam Belldon, did Miss Granger give you a potion?"
Her eyes widened. "Why yes. She said it was a free sample."
"Perhaps…perhaps you should take it, before making your final decision."
She drew herself up a little straighter. "Yes, sir, I will. Thank you."
Severus watched as they made their way down Osmotic Alley until they were out of sight, and wondering what in Circe's name he had just done.
Chapter Eight
Rating: R
(Highlight to View) Warning(s): Reference to Physical Abuse.
(Highlight to View) Prompt: Hermione creates a potion just for Severus, one which he doesn't believe he wants or needs (SS/HG or SS & HG).
Note: Special thanks to
stgulik, not only for the delicious prompt, but for her Herculean effort to pull this together. Thank you for putting up with me.This story is inspired by the film Chocolat, which in turn was based on the novel Chocolat by Joanne Harris. This fanfic is based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling, and owned by J. K. Rowling and various publishers, including but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended by the posting of this fanfic.
Summary: Severus' business, Potions Potentes, is not doing very well. In fact, he plans to shut his doors for good. Just when all seems lost, Hermione Granger arrives in town to open her own apothecary, bringing with her a very special brew. What exactly is she up to, and what exactly is this cure-all potion of hers? If there is one thing Severus knows more than most, it is that nothing is ever given without a price.
Thank you all for your encouraging comments. I'm really glad you like the story.
Chapter Seven: Potions Potentes
Severus was still trembling and breathing hard when he reached his shop. He flung the door open with such force the frame bounced against the wall with a bone-rattling crash. The woman and her son jumped, exclaiming in surprise and fear, and the boy ran into his mother's protective arms. Severus froze; it was the Belldon witch and her boy. He had completely forgotten about them.
Guiltily, he turned away, ostensibly to close the door, but also to give them all a moment to compose themselves. He was long past the desire for the entire population of Wizarding Britain to associate him solely with fear. A quick glance in their direction told him they had settled somewhat, although the child still regarded him the same way he had once eyed Nagini.
The woman was much younger than he had originally thought; no more than twenty-two or twenty-three years old. He could not recall seeing her at Hogwarts, though she would have been of age to attend at least her first year before he left. Taking in her clothing, an odd mixture of Muggle and Magical, and the clumsy way she tried to hide her bruises behind a thick layer of makeup, Severus deduced she was Muggleborn. That would explain her absence from Hogwarts during those days; her family would have been too afraid to send her to school.
The young boy, however, was every bit as magical as Severus himself had been at that age. He had a fine-boned look of a child who liked studies more than sports. His black hair was straight and fine, his olive skin smooth, his eyes large and expressive. His magical signature thrummed and sizzled around him, almost visible to the naked eye. This boy would receive his Hogwarts letter in a few years, Severus had no doubt.
He pushed his disastrous encounter with Hermione to the back of his mind. "My apologies, Madam," he began stiffly. At her meek nod, he crossed to his counter, giving them a wide berth. "Now, how may I help you?"
She blushed, an unflattering, blotchy flush under the makeup. "M-Miss Granger said you might be able to help me, M-Mister Snape. I'm not really sure how. She gave me a good Anti-nausea Potion, and some Bruise Paste, and she gave Anthony a sweetie, but she said to come here all the same."
"Mrs…Belldon, is it? I recall a Chester Belldon…"
"My h-husband," she whispered. The boy stared ahead stonily, refusing to look up. Severus recalled her husband well. Chet Belldon had been another one of Minerva's little scrotes, a fourth-year Gryffindor during his final year as Headmaster. He'd been an arrogant little toe rag then; the kind of shit that bullied all the younger kids and sucked up to the higher years. He'd always preyed on the weaker ones, but bowed and scraped around the Carrows like a proper little Death Eater in training...
Severus sighed impatiently. He had no business interfering in other people's lives. He would tell them there was nothing he could do. This was beyond calling in a favour for an old colleague, or helping a defeated woman dry out. This had much less to do with the two individuals standing before him, and more to do with the one they would face when they went home. He looked at the two of them, holding on to one another, and thought, What if Mum had possessed the wherewithal to stand up to Tobias Snape? He thought of every bad decision, every sacrifice, every heartache he had endured, simply because he had been conditioned to believe there were no other choices for witches like her—and children like him.
In the end, looking at their tired, strained faces, his decision was not made based on Hermione Granger's challenge for him to be himself, but the roughshod history he shared with his own abusive father. He left the safety of his counter and walked around to face her. Quietly, he asked, "Madam Belldon, are you thinking about leaving him?"
She turned away from the question as if warding off a blow. "I have nowhere to go."
"If you did, would that make a difference in your decision?"
She pondered the question. "If I could guarantee I wouldn't be separated from Anthony, I might." She pressed a protective hand against her swollen belly. "I won't let anyone take my children away from me."
"That is understandable." With his wand, Severus traced an elaborate symbol in the air. A small piece of elegant parchment puffed into existence and floated down to Madam Belldon's outstretched hand. "Read it aloud," he said.
"'The Halfway Home is located at 726 Yursaafe Place, Knightsbridge, London.'" She stared at the parchment in wide-eyed wonder.
"This is a safe house run by a friend of mine, Narcissa Malfoy," Severus explained. "She is the chairwoman for an organisation that helps women and children who were widowed and orphaned in the war."
"But we're not-"
"Mention that I sent you, and have her Floo me with any questions. I assure you your children will not be separated from you." Madam Belldon continued to stare at the parchment. "That's the easy part, Cynthia," he continued. "If you leave, you'll have to leave for good. And you must tell no one who might inform on you, like his friends or relations. If he knows where you're going, he'll just follow you and make trouble. I know."
He took her hand; it was cold, and he could feel it tremble as he closed her fingers over the note. "You will have to be brave, and you will have to be certain. But Madam Malfoy will do everything in her formidable power to help you, if you decide to do this. Give it some thought, and make your preparations as discreetly as you can. You will need to put a bag together for yourself and Anthony, and squirrel away a little money. You may have to wait until a good opportunity presents itself.
"But remember, there is no getting better with this, Cynthia." He could see she still longed to be convinced. After a brief hesitation, he decided she needed to hear more—she needed his own story. "My father was a violent man who took out his anger on my mother and me," he confessed. "We were very much like you and Anthony. He caused … irreparable damage, and much of it was not physical. And even though Da was Muggle, by the time I grew old enough to fight back, I was too conditioned to accept his abuse as normal. And every day you stay, it becomes more dangerous, and more normal." He looked down at the handsome little boy. Quietly, he said, "I would not wish that on this child or any other."
Cynthia hastily wiped a tear from her face. "You must think I'm a fool," she choked.
"I think no such thing. I do think that you are stronger and more courageous that you believe yourself to be. Even considering taking the next step is an act of bravery."
Finally, she nodded and placed the parchment in her bag. "Thank you, Mister Snape. I'll think about all you said." She hugged her little boy. "Come along, love. We need to hurry to get home before… before your dad."
"Good luck, Madam Belldon. Be careful, but be canny."
She rewarded him with a tremulous smile, and together she and Anthony headed for the door. As she reached for the knob, Severus impulsively called out, "Madam Belldon, did Miss Granger give you a potion?"
Her eyes widened. "Why yes. She said it was a free sample."
"Perhaps…perhaps you should take it, before making your final decision."
She drew herself up a little straighter. "Yes, sir, I will. Thank you."
Severus watched as they made their way down Osmotic Alley until they were out of sight, and wondering what in Circe's name he had just done.
Chapter Eight
