#15 ~ The Dunderhead's Miracle [PG13] (RL/SS; HP/DM) Title:
The Dunderhead’s Miracle 15
Author:bonfoi Rating: PG13 Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape; Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy; Percy Weasley Summary: Rebuilding means forging new relationships…and rediscovering old ones. During the first Voldemort-free Christmas hols, two couples—one brand new, the other separated by time and distance—discover the joys of giving and receiving. Challenge:adventdrabbles 2011: Day 15 ~ Chestnuts Roasting Word Count: 1,080 Genre: Alternate Universe; EWE; Post-Second Voldemort War; Romance; Angst; Humor Warnings: Original characters; Deathly Hallows, what Deathly Hallows? A/N: Things are beginning to happen!
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
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Severus’ shoulder blades prickled. He hadn’t felt that feeling for at least three years. He surreptitiously surveyed the street in front of his bakery through his large window. There was a group of boys tossing snowballs at each other, some using wands, others their arms. Carolers were warming up down the street, the altos and sopranos jockeying for position, making the basses laugh and the tenors chuckle. A few seasonal vendors had come out as the gloaming deepened toward real evening dark.
Dimming the candles in the bakery, Severus backed into the kitchen as if it were a normal day’s end. He glanced around the kitchen door before he let it swing shut. As the door touched the jamb, Severus’ wand was describing swooping arcs and flourishes, calling up wards and other protections.
After the spells were cast, Severus sank down into his chair at the table and looked at the extra desserts he’d for Draco’s engagement party. He saw the boxes of gingerbread biscuits for Kreacher, the treats he sent through intermediaries to Flitwick and Minerva.
“What have I been doing?” he wondered aloud. “I left that life behind. Why am I trying to pick up the threads of that old life again?”
The rap-rap of knock against his bakery door had Severus up and on his feet, wand drawn. He blinked and calmed himself before looking into the spy-glass he’d installed on the kitchen door. What he saw almost made him cringe….
~o~O~o~
Harry munched on the cooling chestnuts he’d bought from a vendor just down the street from Confectionary Creations. Draco rolled his eyes, his arms full of greenery. He did smile when Harry pressed a chestnut right out of the shell against his lips after kissing it.
“Here, have one,” Harry said in a throaty tone. “They aren’t as good my kisses, but they are warm enough.” His determinedly sultry look broke down as he chuckled at Draco’s rolling eyes. The heat returned when Draco lipped the chestnut from Harry’s fingers, drawing them and licking the tips.
“I never knew chestnut-sharing could be foreplay,” Harry breathed, his fingers still against Draco’s lips. Draco sucked and pushed them away with his tongue, making Harry’s eyes cross and several passers-by tut-tut over the overt display.
“All right, then!” Harry said forcefully. He pulled his hand away and knocked on the door of Confectionary Creations. He looked at the name painted on the window: “Eli Tobias, Prop.”
“I’d have seen that after the war, I would have known it was him,” Harry said under his breath.
“No, you wouldn’t have. You were too broken up with all the losses, and that sham romance with Ginevra. Thank goodness she and Longbottom ‘fessed up sooner rather than later, or you’d still be sporting bat-wings, only Slytherin green.” Draco looked a bit put out, remembering how distant Harry had been. Then he brightened. “But, since we are here now, it is obvious that Sna—that this is the man we’re looking for.”
The door to the café bakery opened suddenly and a long arm reached out to pull Draco and his greenery inside. “You too, Potter. If you please.”
~o~O~o~
“…and when the investigators found out Snape’s maternal great grandmother had come from Ireland during the Great Potato Famine, well…” Percy held out his hands. “I searched the records for a Mrs. Scheherazade Black-O’Deay, and found that she came from a Wizarding village by the name of Glocca Morra.”
Remus had to stifle his laughter behind an upraised hand at the name. He remembered it from a song his Muggle mother sang during his childhood. He gestured for Percy to continue when he’d composed himself enough to listen.
“Anyway, the O’Deays were bakers and confectioners extraordinaire, often employed to create food for royalty. It seems Mrs. Black-O’Deay left a bequest to her granddaughter—that’s Eileen Prince Snape—that went untouched. When the Professor arrived in Ireland, which meant he set foot on Irish soil, the bequest was activated, and the goblins in Dublin sent out their own investigators to find him.” Percy took a deep breath just as the napping wizard snorted and twitched in his sleep.
They held their breaths, even the fairies from the Christmas fairy lights waiting to see if the man would wake or subside. When he merely settled deeper into his chair, without disturbing the two fairies curled up in his beard, Percy began speaking once more.
“Needless to say, the papers are all in order and the Irish goblins found the Professor and took him to his bequest. It was a small bakery that he’s done remarkably well with.” Percy leaned close and then put up his hand to whisper behind. “Even my supervisor purchases his special cakes and tarts from there. I’m certain you’ve heard of the London branch, Confectionary Spells, haven’t you?” Remus burst out laughing, waking the wizard and the fairies, who woke up and flew away with some dire buzzing.
“I say!” the wizard exclaimed. “You two know how to ruin a good nap, wot!” He stood up, losing his hat as it tumbled down his chest. Then he stared at Remus. “I know you,” he finally said. “You came into my shop many a time, eyes all agog at my books and things.” He held out his hand until Remus stood as well and shook it.
“Fido Flourish, at your service.” The old wizard leaned forward and sniffed Remus. “You should take better care of yourself, man. Although those gingerbread biscuits smell delicious.” Mr. Flourish put his hat back on and took several slow steps toward the door. “Oh, and let me tell you, Severus Snape always spoke about going to Ireland, when he thought about running away.” Twinkling eyes—hazel, not blue—met Remus’ surprised ones over the old wizard’s shoulder. “What? You thought you were the only one that cared for the lad? Hmph! Goes to show even the bookish don’t observe enough.” He let himself out, leaving Remus and Percy sharing bemused looks.
“Did you…?” Remus made a querying motion with his hand.
“No. I never knew there was Flourish still alive, let alone wandering the halls of the Ministry,” Percy replied softly.
“Well, between you and he, I’ve got more information about Severus than what I started out my day with.” Remus straightened his robes and gave a wolfish grin. “Seems things are looking up for me. Now, Percy, can you point me to the Irish Floos?”