Chapter Text
It really didn’t take so long for Juniper to learn.
His first word was spoken at three months, his last at sixteen months. He became intrigued and enticed by all sorts of food at six months, he became used to and content with stale bread and metallic water at eighteen months. He began running and jumping at fourteen months, he slowed to a careful walk at fifteen months.
Unlearning was hard though.
“You say ‘okay’ and ‘yeah’ a lot.” Dr. Mullins told Juniper one day, the day after his forty-sixth birthday.
“Do I?”
“Yes, at least with me.”
“Oh.”
“Do you know why?”
“I guess….I just don’t know what to say. I’m not good at talking.”
“Do you have any ideas why?”
“I guess because I was never encouraged to speak. My relatives didn’t like when I spoke, so I never really did until I started non-magical primary school, and even then it was mostly just at school. I barely talked at school either. By the time I was eleven, started Hogwarts, and had people wanting to talk to me just couldn’t very well. And I guess I never tried to better my skills.”
“Maybe you should.”
“How?”
“We can start with a journal, that way you don’t have to worry about what you’re saying as no one will read it but you.”
“I can try.”
“That’s a good start.”
“I guess I do have to start somewhere.”
“That’s how things work.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ron always knew that his parents, well mostly his mom, didn’t feel the exact same way about him that they did about his brothers, and mom definitely didn’t feel the same way about him as she did towards his sister.
Mom and dad definitely loved him, they fed him and hugged him, but….
Well, they also fed and hugged people they didn’t see as family, and family who they didn’t really like. So, it wasn’t particularly reassuring.
Sure, they accepted him, they adored Anastasia and Dimitri, but it still just didn’t feel the same.
“So…Dimitri looks different.” Mom said during one visit, where Blaise wasn’t around because he had a doctor appointment at the same time.
Dimitri, now fifteen, had grown his hair out to his shoulders and dyed it blue, got three different ear piercings, a septum piercing, and eyebrow piercing not to mention had started wearing much more makeup and had a very different style than he had the last time Ron’s parents saw him over winter break.
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t he get that eyebrow piercing when away at school?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know about it?”
“He was fourteen when he got it, mom, I had to give consent for it to happen.”
“Well, I know his ears were pierced by his friends, so….”
“I gave consent for those too, we just didn’t see a point in paying sixteen galleons per piercing, which would be almost fifty galleons for all three ear piercings, when his friend needs practice for when they’re a professional piercer in a few years.”
“Okay, but didn't he do the nose piercing by himself?”
“Yes, when he was thirteen. I wasn’t a fan of it, but what was done was done, and I was mostly just glad he hadn’t done permanent damage or let it get infected.”
“Did you punish him?”
“We talked to him about it.”
“That was it?”
“I mean, he was thirteen and it’s his body, so there wasn’t much we could do except make him realize how dangerous piercing yourself without adult supervision or experience is.”
“That will just make him do it again.”
“Except, it’s been two years, and he hasn’t.”
Molly sighed. “Well, how is Anastasia, anyway?”
Anastasia was twenty-seven and living in Wales. “Good from what I’ve heard. She’ll be home visiting soon, so you can see her and talk to her more in depth then.”
“I don’t see why she moved so far away.”
“She had a job offer out there.”
“Surely she could have gotten a job here, though?”
“Well, Charlie lives in Romania and Bill in Wales, so I don’t see why Anastasia living out there matters.”
“They’re much older than she is, though.”
“Charlie was eighteen when he moved to Romania and Bill was twenty-seven when he moved to Wales, before that he lived in various places, moving every few months, since he was eighteen.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“Surely we have more important things to talk about, mom.”
“Actually, I think it’s about time I go home. But, I’ll see you again soon.”
“Bye, mom.” Ron sighed.
“Goodbye.”
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Hermione was very excited about turning three, very . Because three year olds have all twenty of their deciduous teeth and can name basic colors and can talk in sentences and typically establish bladder and bowel control.
Hermione was not very excited about turning forty-seven. Because being forty-seven meant the war had been over for almost three decades which did not feel right and her children were now seventeen, in their seventh year, and she had found a gray hair yesterday and her queerplatonic partner had just gotten her first pair of glasses.
Where did all the time go? How had it been forty-four years since that fateful birthday that changed her whole view of the world? Her whole view of her parents?
“Happy birthday.” Pansy mumbled, eyes still closed, when the alarm went off. Hermione hadn’t been to sleep.
“I’m so glad it’s Saturday; I could not work today.”
“Why?”
“Just not feeling it….I wanna sleep.”
“Go ahead. I’ll handle everything.”
Except, she couldn’t sleep, just couldn’t.
She tried getting up, getting on with her day, but that was worse. So, she just had to lay down doing nothing for…well, forever how long it took for her to drift off.
Why did none of her birthdays ever go quite right?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Am I a girl or a boy?” Draco asked Uncle Sev one snowy day halfway between his second and third birthdays.
“You’re a boy.” Uncle Sev informed, not paying complete attention as he graded his students final exams from a couple days prior.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, why?”
“Look at you! Fucking obviously you’re a boy, are you stupid?!”
No, this was wrong. Draco didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew it was wrong. What was wrong?
“But, I don’t feel like a boy?” Draco worried his lip; he had really thought Uncle Sev would understand.
Uncle Sev stood, dragging Draco off the floor with one hand. “Say you’re a boy.”
“But, I’m not.”
“Say you’re a boy or I’ll show you what happens to disgusting, perverted little freaks!”
Uncle Sev wouldn’t do this. Uncle Sev loved him. Something was wrong.
“I’m a girl.” He whimpered.
“Hydra, Hydra!”
Hydra woke up sobbing and soaked in sweat, with someone next to her, holding her hand and petting her hair.
“Don’t—don’t hurt me.”
“Hydra, it’s Juniper. It’s just Juniper, I would never hurt you. I promise.”
“S-sev.”
“Sev?”
“Where—” She started choking on the air she was breathing in, “where is he?”
“Are you talking about Snape?”
She didn’t, couldn’t, respond.
“His portrait is in McGonagall’s office, like always.”
“I want Sev. I want to go home. I want to go back.”
“Hydra, sweetheart, it’s 2:00 A.M. We need to sleep more. You can go visit him in a few hours.”
“No, need now, need now.”
“What you need now is to breathe. Do you need me to guide you?”
It took almost a minute, but Hydra eventually nodded.
“Okay, sweetheart. Breathe in, no, don’t stop. One, two, three, four. Okay, now stop, don’t breathe out, just hold it. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Okay, now breathe out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”
They went through the motions over and over again, at least a dozen times, before Hydra could breathe on her own, though she wasn’t completely calm.
“That’s it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Do you think you’re ready to lay back down?”
“No! Need Sev, now.”
Juniper sighed. “Okay, come on.”
“S-sev.” Hydra sobbed at the sight of her godfather.
“What’s wrong, Dragon?”
“Am I a perverted freak?”
“What? Of course not. Why would you think so?”
“Had dream of when I was two and I asked you ‘bout gender, except you, you called me a perverted freak and threatened to hurt me.”
“Because you’re trans?”
“Yeah.”
“You are neither of those things, and I would never hurt you, not for any reason, but especially not your gender.”
“I wish—I wish I could hug you.”
“Come here.”
Hydra slowly walked forward, knees wobbling.
Severus put his hand up against the outside of the painting like it was a window. “Put your hand on mine.”
Severus spoke again once she complied. “I’m sorry I can’t hug you, my sweet girl, but our hands can touch.”
“Do you still love me?”
“Forever and always.”
“Does death stifle love?”
“No. Death is full of love.”
“Do you miss me?”
“Every day.”
“Sorry I don’t visit more.”
“Don’t apologize for continuing your life, I am so proud of you every day.”
“I’m older than you now. I’m forty-six, you’re forever thirty-eight.”
“It doesn’t matter, you’ll always be my baby.”
“Have you talked to mom and dad anytime recently?”
“You know they visit on the first of every month.”
“I wasn’t here on the first of this month. I had to switch my Saturday responsibilities and Sunday responsibilities around.”
“Well, yes, they came to visit me on the first anyway.”
“I’ll come see you more.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“I’ll love to see you whenever you come, but, Dragon, you should go back to sleep now.”
“Am I annoying you?”
“No, darling, but you have to get up for work in a few hours and all your kids need you, I’ll still be here later.”
“I love you, Sev, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Hydra, I love you forever and always.”