XIII: Where It All Began

Thanks go to JKR, for creating the HP universe, to my lovely beta Apple Blossom and to all you faithful readers out there.

Chapter XIII: Where It All Began

'It really does rain horizontally in Iceland,' Severus muttered under his breath before he retreated into the house again, furtively using magic to dry his wet clothes.

He had meant to go for an early morning walk around the village, but the sudden downpour had forced him to go back to the bed and breakfast where he and Eydis were renting a room for the weekend. It was a little blue house right on the edge of Hveragerði, and the elderly landlady was very proud of her garden and her hothouse where she cultivated all sorts of flowers and vegetables. Ragnheiður seemed like a nice enough lady, and Eydis had certainly taken a shine to her, but Severus was not sure if he could cope with her fussing and chatter this early in the morning. He had gotten quite a big enough dose of that upon their arrival the night before.

He and Eydis had arrived a little later than scheduled, due to the late delivery of their Portkey from the Ministry. Ragnheiður, who of course had assumed that her guests had been travelling the Muggle way, had immediately started to fuss over Eydis, exclaiming how tired the darling child must be after such a long journey, and had insisted on serving hot cacao and fudge cake. Naturally, this had resulted in a sugar-overload in the girl's system, and she had not been able to go to sleep before long after midnight. Hence, she was still asleep now.

Severus was just about to enter his room as the landlady appeared in the door that led to the kitchen.

'Góðan daginn,' she greeted him cheerfully. 'I have just put the kettle on. Do you fancy a nice cup of tea, Mr. Snape?'

Severus closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. There was no way in Hades he would be able to talk himself out of this. The Icelandic matron was too much of the Molly Weasley-type to take no for an answer. Oh well, a cup of tea was always right, and he would not be able to go back to sleep anyway. And knowing his daughter, she would scratch his eyes out if he even tried to wake her up at such an early hour. So he might as well sit in the kitchen for a while and have a cup.

'Now sit, Mr. Snape. Sit, sit, sit.' Ragnheiður ushered Severus towards a comfortable fluffy armchair and put a steaming cup into his hands. 'My very special blend,' she exclaimed, beaming at him as she took a seat opposite her guest.

Severus closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled the fumes that were rising from the tea. 'Violets and lavender,' he concluded. 'And elderflower?'

Ragnheiður nodded eagerly. She seemed as excited as a five-year-old who was showing off a new toy.

'You seem to know your herbs and flowers, Mr. Snape. How come?'

'I have been known to dabble in the field of herb lore now and then,' Severus replied, hiding his smirk behind his teacup and secretly wondering how the old woman would react if he told her that he was a wizard. But then again, she might not be all that surprised. The small stone huts in her garden suggested that she at least believed the tales of elves and fairies still living in the Icelandic hills. Maybe she believed in witches and wizards, too.

Severus let his gaze wander over the moss-clad hills that surrounded Hveragerði. The sun was up now, but it could not be much later than six thirty. It had barely been five o'clock when the first rays of sun had tickled his nose and awoken him.

The hills lay peacefully in the morning sun, and Severus allowed himself to dwell in memories for some moments. He had walked across those hills many times with Cassandra. He knew that right behind them lay a geyser field and that Cassandra's old house was situated right over there, just around the small hill to the left of the village. Surely, another family lived there now.

Then his mind started to wander. What if Nicodemus had not knocked over the casket that had contained the Black family ring? Would Cassandra ever have come clean? Would she ever have confessed that she was a witch? And would he, Severus, have told her who he really was? Or would dear Minerva just have sat them down one day and told them to stop behaving like stubborn children and tell the truth to each other?

He also tried to imagine another scenario, one where Severus Smythe and Cassandra Svensson lived happily in the little house on the other side of the village, him still working at the hospital, her still trying to make her students understand the beauty of the English language. But it did not work out. As much as Severus tried to keep his thoughts in the Muggle world, they always drifted back into his world, Cassandra's world, the world of witches and wizards. They had always belonged there, both of them. They had just needed someone to walk back home with them.

With a sigh, he put down his cup and thanked the landlady for the tea. Suddenly he had the urge to be alone.

'What do you think your little sunshine would like for breakfast, Mr. Snape?' Ragnheiður called after him as he crossed the kitchen to get to his room. 'Chocolate croissants, maybe?'

Severus turned and cocked an eyebrow. 'I am not sure my daughter's system has recovered from last night's sugar rush yet, ma'am. Hence, I think toast and tea would be appropriate.'

'Oh, we will see about that, won't we, Mr. Snape?' Ragnheiður replied and smiled. And Severus could see that her wrinkled hands were already busy forming croissants from the dough that was lying in a bowl on the counter.

~ ~ ~

Severus carefully closed the door behind him and peered towards the bed by the window where Eydis was still fast asleep on her stomach, her left hand resting on the leather-bound album she had gotten from her mother four years ago. She must have fallen asleep while reading it last night.

The album was one of Eydis' dearest possessions. She could spend hours leafing through it, and now and then she would come running to her father, asking him to tell her more about a certain picture or a name that had appeared on one of the pages that – mere moments ago – had still been empty.

It was due to that album that Severus had decided to take Eydis to Iceland.

He had been sitting on the swing in the apple tree behind their Hogsmeade cottage on a sunny Saturday afternoon in April, completely lost in thoughts, when Eydis had come to him, the album in her hand and a curious expression on her face.

'Daddy, may I ask you a question?' she had begged. 'How come you did not know that Mummy was a witch when you met her?'

He had beckoned the little one to come and sit beside him, and she had snuggled against his side, her arms tightly wrapped around her album.

'I met you mother in Iceland,' he had started, 'far away from the Wizarding world.'

'What were you doing there?' Eydis had asked.

'It was some years after the Second Wizarding War. Both your mother and I had had enough of fighting and needed some time on our own,' he had gone on, hoping that Eydis would not ask any more questions about her parents' reasons for leaving the Wizarding world. He deemed her still too little to understand the role he had played in the war and how much heartache it had brought her mother.

Thankfully, the little one had been more interested in how her parents had managed to find each other on an island full of Muggles, and her questions had stuck to that particular topic the whole afternoon. And that evening, Severus had decided to take his daughter to Iceland for her birthday.

And there they were now, in Hveragerði, the place where he had come to love Cassandra so many years ago.

He moved closer towards his daughter's bed to see which picture she had been looking at before she had fallen asleep and could not help but smirk. It was a Muggle photograph of himself and Cassandra taken at that ridiculous Goth party she had dragged him to on her birthday. Cassandra's hair had been spiky enough to spear anyone who came to close, and she had been wearing a long black skirt in crushed velvet, with a corset top that had been laced in the back. Merlin, how Severus had hated that corset later that evening. He had been fumbling at it like a hormone-driven, brain-dead teenage boy! Why Cassandra had not laughed at him was still beyond him. But then again, that had been his Cassandra, always so understanding, always taking him with all his flaws and shortcomings.

'Góðan daginn.'

Eydis' sleepy voice ripped Severus out of his reminiscence and he smiled at his daughter. 'Good morning to you, too, little one.'

The little one. She wasn't that little anymore, his Eydis. She had turned eleven that week, and in three months she would start her education at Hogwarts. She would certainly be a good student, Severus was convinced of that. She was curious and ambitious, and she had obviously inherited her mother's knack for languages.

'Did you sleep well?' Severus enquired.

Eydis rolled onto her back and nodded, pulling the blanket up to her nose. 'Hm, I dreamt of Mummy.'

Severus settled on the edge of the bed and brushed a strand of hair from his daughter's face. 'Of course you have, little one. You fell asleep looking at her picture.'

Eydis sat up and pulled the album onto her lap. 'Mummy was very beautiful,' she said, caressing the picture with her finger. 'And you look very happy in that picture, Daddy. You both do.'

Then she put the album aside and got onto her knees to wrap her arms around her father's neck.

'Will you show me where you and Mummy met?' she begged. 'And where you fell in love?'

And Severus embraced his daughter and nodded.

~ ~ ~

To Severus's surprise, the little café had not changed a bit. The furniture was still the same and so were the hideous green and yellow striped tablecloths. And he could have sworn that the woman behind the counter had worked there twelve years ago, too.

He ordered a cup of black coffee for himself and a cup of hot cacao for Eydis and even let the little one talk him into buying one of those sugary chocolate chips cookies. Not that it had taken much persuasion from her side. If she wanted a cookie, of course she would get one. Severus had never been able to say no to her, and he would not start now when it was about something as trivial as a cookie.

He gestured towards a table on the other side of the room. 'Your mother and I used to sit over there by the window,' he pointed out. 'She always liked to know who was walking by.'

Eydis grabbed her cacao and her cookie and scurried over to the table Severus had pointed out. And when he joined her some moments later, she looked up at him, a broad smile on her face.

Severus felt a lump form in his throat. How often had Cassandra waited for him at that very table and smiled at him as he approached? How often had they discussed the Icelandic weather? And how often had he tried to say something witty just to make her laugh?

He swallowed dryly and took a seat opposite his daughter, who had now sunk her teeth into her cookie.

'You have inherited your mother's sweet-tooth, little one,' he pointed out. 'She loved those cookies as well.'

Eydis put her cookie down and tilted her head. 'You miss Mummy a lot, don't you, Daddy?'

Severus took a deep breath. The lump in his throat was getting bigger, and he found it hard to speak.

'Yes, little one,' he answered silently. 'I miss you mother very much. I have done so every single day for the last eight years. And I will probably do so until the day I die.'

Eydis nodded. 'It is more obvious here,' she started. 'You seem ... I don't know. You seem sadder here than you do at Hogwarts, Daddy. Is this because you and Mummy were always happy here?'

Severus sighed and tightened his grip around his cup. 'Your mother and I had quite some arguments here, little one,' he admitted. 'Most of them due to the fact that your father can be a bloody fool at times.'

Eydis grinned. 'I think the words Mummy used in the album are stubborn Slytherin.'

Severus cocked an eyebrow at his daughter and then hid his face behind his cup, pretending to drink. And Eydis, too, lowered her gaze. All of a sudden, she was very busy crushing cookie crumbs with her fingers.

When she raised her head again, she looked directly at her father, and her blue eyes locked onto his black ones.

'Tell me about Mummy, will you, Daddy,' she begged. 'Tell me how you remember her. Tell me what made you love her.'

'The first time I saw your mother was in the park we passed this morning,' Severus started. 'I was reading a book and she was having a picnic with a friend.'

'What made you notice her?' Eydis enquired.

'Her laughter,' Severus replied. 'It sounded so happy, so genuine, too honest to be ignored.'

'I think I remember Mummy's laughter. I sometimes hear it at night when I am dreaming. But when I try to think of it, it just disappears. It's like trying to catch smoke with your hands.' Eydis paused and frowned. 'Does that make any sense, Daddy?'

Severus nodded slowly. 'Yes, it does, little one.'

Once more he looked down at his coffee, willing the feeling of panic in his chest to go away. He was so scared that one day he would forget Cassandra's laughter, that one day it would slip away and disappear just as Cassandra had.

Silence settled over the table by the window. Eydis continued crushing cookie crumbs, and Severus continued staring at his coffee, desperately trying to come up with something to say.

But it was Eydis who finally broke the oppressing silence. 'Did you ask Mummy out on a date then?'

Severus almost snorted. He would never have dared ask Cassandra out on a date.

'It was actually your mother who suggested meeting here,' he explained. 'She would sit here every day after four, grade papers, drink coffee and wait for her bus. And I would join her on Thursday afternoons, after my shift at the hospital had ended. And she would smile at me in the same way you are smiling at me now, little one.'

Next thing Severus knew, Eydis had slipped down from her chair and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

'I wish I had known her,' the little one whispered. 'Mummy seemed to have made you so happy, Daddy. And I know that she loved you very much. She told me so.'

Severus wrapped his arms around his daughter, burying his face on her hair and remembering the first page in the album her mother had given her. Please tell your Daddy I love him, she had written. On the very first page of the last gift Cassandra had given her daughter, she had written down her love for him.

He could not hold back his tears any longer. Silently he wept into his daughter's red hair, letting the tears wash away the pain he had carried in his heart for eight long years.

Yes, Cassandra had made him happy. She had made him smile and had shown him the way back home. And she had given him the two greatest gifts in the world: her love and the daughter he was now holding in his arms.