A Mistake

~*~*~*~

"Anger is just a cowardly extension of sadness."

~ Tom Gates

~*~*~*~

With the school year now in full swing, the following weeks passed quickly. Severus didn't see Cara at all except at meals and when they occasionally passed in the halls between classes. She thanked him repeatedly for his help with her syllabi and lesson plans, even though she seemed to have gotten the hang of things and had finished out the term by the beginning of October.

This, along with the fact that he was still unable to keep his mouth shut when in her presence, and was therefore inclined to offer up information about himself that he would never have told anyone, said to Severus that his presence would no longer be required on Saturday nights, even if he had begun to enjoy their encounters. He admitted this grudgingly, and only because he took pride in always being honest with himself, if not others.

He... liked Cara, and it scared the hell out of him. A coward he was not, but the unease – he refused, absolutely refused, to call it longing or, Merlin help him, arousal – that settled in his center whenever she touched him had simply become too much. Her touch was never sexual, not really – only a slight brush of her fingers over his hand, his arm, or back – but it was becoming a distraction. A distraction he did not need... or want.

Liar...

When he nearly let himself get hexed one Friday morning as his seventh-year Defense class was having dueling practice, he finally put his foot down. She would not drive him to such distraction.

Better to cut things off before I kill myself... or her.

So, as a result, Severus declined every offer of dinner, walking to Hogsmeade, going for a ride, or just patrolling the halls together. She took it with good grace, but he could tell she was becoming increasingly disappointed. It tugged at him, the look that crossed her face when he declined again and again, more often than not with a scathing remark attached, and her discomfiture more than anything began to wear on his nerves. He shouldn't give a damn whether or not the nosy American chit had her feelings hurt.

He was not a nice man, he kept reminding himself, and finally her constant nattering – combined with the stress of preparing for mid-term exams, his Head of House duties, the impending Samhain festival, and the fact that there was no sausage for breakfast – was too much.

He snapped.

Slamming his fork down on the High Table hard enough to make the glassware in his vicinity shudder, he turned to her. "What part of 'I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request' did you not understand, Miss Benoit? Was it the large words, or perhaps your attention wandered in the time it took me to say it? It means 'No,' or do they not teach you to communicate above a third-year level at whatever second-rate American school you had the misfortune to attend?" All this was said in a vehement whisper, but he still managed to attract the attention of a few of the students in the front row, as well as that of the teachers sitting to either side of them.

Cara simply stared at him, her coffee poised halfway to her lips. Her jaw dropped at the abrupt ferocity of his outburst, before clamping shut again. Setting her cup down slowly – lest she be tempted to toss the steaming liquid into his lap and therefore onto his delicate bits – she smiled tightly. "Fine then, you pompous ass, don't come."

A flick of her hand, and she turned her glass coffee mug into a Muggle-style portable one, complete with slotted top. She stood and leaned over him in order to whisper in his ear. "They may not have taught much of your Queen's English at my second-rate school, Severus, but I am very articulate when it comes to saying 'go fuck yourself.'"

This time it was Severus' jaw that gaped open at Cara's ferocity. Before he could fling anything back at her, she grabbed up her portable cup and exited the hall, her long hair and teaching robes flapping behind her. She missed the shocked stares of the students who had been close enough to see and hear her exchange with Severus. Heads turned in unison to watch her walk out, then turned back to stare open-mouthed at the fuming Potions master. A sweeping glare was enough to make them all suddenly very interested in their food.

As the usual breakfast chatter picked back up, a mirth-filled cackle came from his left, where Madam Hooch was sitting. She leaned in conspiratorially, nudging him with her elbow. "Why don't you just shag her and be done with it, Severus?"

Severus slowly turned his murderous glare on the flying instructor. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. A good rodgering would probably do her a world of good as well. She's a lovely girl, but she's been so... harassed-looking of late. You'd be doing her a favor." The older woman winked at him before turning her yellow eyes back to her meal, leaving Severus to gape, once again, in fury. It only got worse when Minerva leaned forward to speak around the grinning flying instructor.

"She's right you know... the poor woman is in desperate need of... well, of stress relief, if you would." The Headmistress raised her eyebrows at him.

Severus thought the old bat must be going daft in her post-war days. "Bloody harpies... the lot of you!" he spat, which earned him another cackle from Hooch and a smirk from Minerva. He shoved away from the High Table, his appetite lost, and exited the hall. The frantic whispers of the students caught his ear as he passed between the tables. The rumor mill was going to literally overflow after this one.

Buggering hell...

~*~*~*~

As it turned out, Severus did show up at Cara's door that next Saturday evening. He fully intended to give her an earful for the way she had spoken to him the day before. He knocked briskly and waited... and waited... and waited a bit longer. Just as he had pulled his wand to unlock the door himself, he heard a tiny voice, "Mistress Cara is not here, Professor, sir."

Severus turned to find one of the school elves looking up at him with a frightened expression. He raised an eyebrow at the trembling creature. "Really? And where would... Mistress... Cara happen to be?"

The elf only shook its wrinkly head, its drooping ears flapping softly against its cheeks. "I does not know, sir. I only know that she is not in her rooms, as I be the one that cleans them."

Severus' brow furrowed in irritation. "Was she here this morning?"

Again, the elf shook its head. "No, Professor, sir... and she wasn't here last night either."

The furrow in his brow deepened, and he grunted an absent thank you as he stormed away from Cara's door, robes billowing behind him. The tiny elf could only nod and shake his head in confusion. Humans really had no clue...

~*~*~*~

Later that night, Severus sat in front of his fire, alone, holding a tumbler of whiskey and brooding over the fact that Cara had left without telling him.

And why should it bother you? his inner voice asked. It's not like you have the right to keep track of her... she's not your witch after all... and even if she were, do you really think she'd stick around and wait on your sorry arse after the way you spoke to her this morning?

With a growl, he threw his glass into the fire and ran his hands through his hair. He'd been distracted all evening, wondering where the hell the infuriating woman had gotten off to. He'd even gone down to the stables to see if by chance she was with her horses. He had found Oberon and Onyx munching contentedly on their dinner of hay and oats, but no Cara. "Where is your mistress?" he'd muttered to himself as he let Oberon give him a good sniff. The Andalusian had whuffed at the pockets of Severus' robes, hoping for a treat. Having none, Severus had given him a scratch under the jaw instead. "Incorrigible equine," he said softly, giving him one more pat before leaving the stables.

He'd been in his rooms ever since and had worked himself into a fit of pique. She was messing with him... yes, that had to be it. She was off with some bloke, having a night on the town, and he was stuck here in the dungeons, forced to drink alone... again.

No one's forcing it down your throat, mate... his inner voice supplied snidely.

"Shut up!" he hissed between gritted teeth. That was it... he'd had enough. Grabbing his wand from the side-table, he stormed from his rooms – not even bothering with his cloak – and headed up the stairs to Cara's quarters.

A few minutes later, he pounded on her door in a drunken fit of anger, pulling his wand when she didn't answer immediately. The fact that he already knew she wasn't home never registered with him as he flicked the length of ebony at her doorknob. The silent Alohomora unlocked the latch, and the door swung in on itself. Even in the clutches of too much drink, Severus was cautious and kept his wand at the ready as he stepped slowly into her sitting room.

"Miss Benoit?" he called sharply.

No answer.

Shutting the door behind him, he stepped further into the room. When nothing unexpected happened, he lowered his wand and proceeded to look for any reason for Cara's irritating absence. Her desk was in surprisingly good order – parchment stacked neatly, oil-well tightly corked, the peacock quills she seemed to favor standing neatly in their holder, and a stack of books propped neatly on one corner.

Suppressing an irritated sigh, he walked to the fireplace and knelt down, holding his hand over the ashes.

Cold.

There had been no fire for at least 24 hours. He pondered the grate for a few moments before standing with a growl. He leaned his forearm against the mantle, his wand tapping against his thigh as he tried to think of anywhere she could be that he hadn't looked. Well, he hadn't gone into town to look for her...

No... I do have some dignity left...

Lowering his arm, his gaze was instantly drawn to the naked space on the mantle that had once held a photograph, a photograph that Cara obviously had not wanted him to see on his first visit to her rooms. Feeling only slightly vindictive, he narrowed his eyes as his head turned in the direction of her bedroom.

No... he shouldn't.

What would Cara say?

Oh, she'd probably have plenty to say, much of it consisting of four-letter words and colorful descriptions of his person. Maybe she wouldn't hex him too severely...

His anger and irritation overriding his common sense, Severus walked towards the door, his wand held casually in his hand. He leaned against the doorframe, and one silent spell and a half-hearted, "Oops..." later, he was standing in Cara's bedroom.

It was appointed with the standard Hogwarts furniture: large four-poster canopy bed complete with curtains, twin side-tables, fireplace, a chest at the foot of the bed, an armoire against the far wall, a small sitting area with sofa, armchairs, and coffee table, and a large floor mirror. The bath was off through a door to his right, and there was a large, stained-glass window directly across from that door, which lead to a small balcony overlooking the grounds.

The staff quarters could change to suit the preferences of their occupants, so Cara's décor was as unlike his own as night was to day, which was, of course, unsurprising. Where his quarters were outfitted in dark, masculine colors and tones, Cara's rooms were like her, light and seemingly carefree. A white goose-down comforter lay across the bed, complete with matching pillows, and a white bear-skin rug lay in front of the fire. The fabric of the sofa and chairs had changed to match the white of the rug and comforter. Even the bed curtains were white. It was entirely too cheerful for his taste. Much too... virginal.

He chuckled. 'Virginal' and Cara were not two things that belonged in the same sentence... at least in his opinion. Not that he would know anything about that aspect of her life... as he certainly wasn't involved in it. Actually, if he thought about it, he didn't know much about her at all, aside from what she had revealed over the past few weeks.

He pushed such thoughts aside for the moment, lest he lose his nerve. Turning back to the task at hand, he scanned the room again, but saw no photos.

Hmm... he thought. "Accio hidden portrait!" he said, flourishing his wand drunkenly.

A rattle resounded from the trunk at the foot of Cara's bed. Stepping slowly forward, he pointed his wand at the lock, immediately sensing several levels of protective enchantments and wards. Well, he hadn't been a spy for almost twenty years without learning a thing or two...

Not thinking of what a huge invasion of privacy it was, he flicked his wand at the lock on the trunk, disabling her wards and counteracting the enchantments in less than a minute. Another flip of his wrist unbuckled the leather straps binding the trunk closed. The lid flew open, and the rattling ceased as a silver-framed portrait flew at his head.

He snatched the frame out of the air and held it face down in his hand. A wave of guilt passed over him as he stood in Cara's bedroom, about to breach her trust in him. He could still turn back... save himself from her ire when she found out, as she was bound to. No... he had come this far... and dammit he had to know what she was keeping from him.

Slowly, as if whatever was contained in the photo would suddenly fly at him in a rage, he turned the frame over. His brow drew together as he took in what he was seeing. The black and white picture was unmoving... a Muggle photograph. In it sat a younger version of Cara. Her hair was shorter, and she had a look of... innocence... about her. Neither of those facts shocked him. What shocked him was the tiny, swaddled bundle that Cara held in her arms: the soft, round cheeks, tiny nose, and cupid's bow lips of a tiny infant peeked from the cradle of her arms.

Severus let the hand holding the photo drop to his side, his brow furrowed in both hurt and confusion.

Cara had a child.

~ TBC

A/N: Well now...

I'm very unsatisfied with this chapter as a whole, but I don't think there's anything else I can do to it. It is what it is. Please be kind... the Muse is suffering...

Thanks for reading though!