Tisane Ⅲ

There is something akin to sadness in Quyen Crowley's eyes as she watched her mother depart without so much as a final goodbye. She knew her mother had never wanted her much less ever loved her. Still, she had always hoped in her heart of hearts that someday her mother would be proud of her. Nothing but a fool's dream.

Peter wraps his arms around Quyen, who turns into his hug. Peter barely reached her height and though she couldn't hide her face in the crook of his neck, she could lean against him and know he would hold her up. And so, she found solace in the comfort of his arms.

Georgine loudly clears her throat. "Come along you two, we have no time to dawdle," she crisply instructed, before sashaying down the hall.

Rowan clasps Peter on the shoulder. "It worked out alright in the end, Peter," she quietly said. She had anticipated this in the worst-case scenario. She hadn't actually voiced her concerns to Peter and Quyen lest she make them that much more anxious than they already were.

Thankfully Rowan had already spoken to Aunt Georgine regarding Peter's Animagus ability. Aunt Georgine had openly expressed her interest in employing Peter in the family's London information house. It would be a very useful skill to be employed in their line of work. Peter's ability would have to be registered with the Ministry of Magic. However, knowing her aunt, the actual registration of Peter would be buried so deep that no one would ever find out the truth unless needed.

 "You better hurry up and get married before Mr. Crowley changes his mind."

"Thanks, Rowan," Peter weakly chuckled, before releasing his girlfriend-, shortly to be wife. "C'mon love, we need to get going."

Quyen let out a shuddering cry, before pulling back from the comfort of her boyfriend's arms. "Wish us luck, Rowan.," Peter hopefully said in a quiet voice.

There is a trace of sadness in Quyen's eyes. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to marry Peter, because she was utterly thrilled! But she like any proper pureblood witch had always dreamed of marrying in a grandiose manner. It is disappointing to know she wouldn't even get to wear a wedding dress.

Seeing the bittersweet sorrow on Quyen's face, Rowan soothingly says, "The two of you can always have a smaller wedding reception later in the summer. It will give you plenty of time to plan a small wedding and invite all of your friends."

Quyen visibly begins to cheer up as Peter lets out a sigh of relief.

"Now hurry along and good luck," Rowan shooed the two of them towards the floo hearth. She could only watch and wait for all of them to depart, leaving her alone.

Rowan turns around only to find Severus standing behind her. She blinked in surprise as she had not even heard him much less sensed him. It is a rather startling and worrying sensation.

"We need to talk," Severus solemnly said.

Whatever excuse Rowan might have had died in her throat. She merely gestures at Severus to lead the way. The two of them return to the now empty parlor with Rowan shutting the door behind them.

Rowan sits down while Severus locks the door and casts a muting spell with his wand. There is a strange silence between them. It is not a tension, but it is a silence full of unanswered questions.

"So, what is it?" Rowan bluntly asked.

"Why did you lie?"

"About what?"

"You are a parselmouth, Rowan," Severus intensely hissed. "Why did you never say anything? You never tell me anything not when it truly counts! Do you even trust me?!"

There is a taken-back expression on Rowan's face. She can't deny Severus's accusations, but she only did it to protect him. She had only ever wanted was for Severus to be safe and happy. And yet, she had hurt him again.

Raising her midnight-indigo eyes, Rowan clearly looks at Severus. Gone is the scrawny, scowling boy with unwashed greasy hair. Instead, there is a confident young man sitting in his place. Severus had grown up and could protect himself, he didn't need Rowan to do so anymore.

"Heh, you're all grown up," Rowan whispered with a mix of emotions.

Half-closing her eyes, Rowan leans back in her seat. "I suppose, I got so used to always protecting you, Sev," she openly acknowledged, "that I forgot." A forlorn expression appears on her face.

Something akin to understanding flashes across Severus's face. Rowan had always protected him from the worst of their father's fists and had continued to even after their mother left them. However, now Rowan was in trouble. It was his turn to help her.

"I can't claim not to understand," Severus steadfastly gazed at Rowan. "Yet this can't keep happening Rowan. This is not the first time nor the last. Either you trust me, or you don't."

A slow exhaled breath escaped from Rowan. Her mind races on how to respond. However, she did not have much time. The longer she tarried in answering the more Severus would be convinced she didn't trust him.

Raising her gaze, Rowan met Severus's onyx-colored eyes. "I suppose you could call me a farseer," she tentatively said. "There are things that may come to be and those that will not."

Ever since the last death surge, Rowan had felt her mind change. If she was not paying attention, she would find herself slipping into the thoughts of others just by meeting their gaze. She had to be mindful and either extract herself from the memories or ensure she did not do so by hastily pulling her gaze away.

Using all her force, Rowan shoved a brief snippet of a memory into Severus's mind. It is a poignant memory of a thin man with a shallow skin complexion, a large, hooked nose, and piercing black eyes. The wizard's dark silk robes hang limply on his body; however, they are stained with what appears to be encrusted, dried blood.

Severus forcefully shoves Rowan out of his mind, his gaze visibly startled. "Ack-," his voice faltered. Yet he could not deny the aged reflection in his mind. It is that of his grown self. 

Severus opens and closes his mouth several times before clasping his hands together. "I look bloody awful. No pun intended." 

"I can't argue with that."

Clasping his hands tighter together, Severus's voice drops down even further. "The robes I was wearing were identical to the robes that the Death Eaters were wearing during the attack on Hogsmeade."

Rowan did not immediately reply, rather she tiredly leaned back. "You are indeed correct."

A barrage of emotions bombarded Severus. "I would never become a Death Eater!" His voice cracked in protest. "You have to believe me, Rowan!" His eyes desperately pleaded with his twin sister.

"I know Severus Prince will never become a Death Eater," Rowan earnestly responded with a solemn expression, "but the same cannot be said for Severus Snape." 

Severus visibly shakes at Rowan's pronouncement. 

"If I had died that day, Severus-," Rowan's voice stopped. In a sense, she had died that day. And in that same breath had been granted a new lease on life.

The memory of the past floods Severus causing him to visibly shake. He recalls just how terribly Rowan had lain on the dirty floors of their home. He had tried to shake Rowan awake, but her breath grew weaker until it seemed to stop. He laid his head on her chest, but he couldn't hear anything over his own annoying loud breaths.

 terrible fear overcame Severus feeling completely alone for the first time in his life. He began to quiver with emotions as his eyes became cloudy with moisture. Abruptly Rowan's chest begins to move again. An immeasurable amount of relief overcame him, and he nearly began to loudly sob. It had been one of the worst days of his life.