Chapter Text
Spring 1982
By the time the door to the shop finally closed and the sign had been flipped from “Open” to “Please Call Again” Petunia was utterly exhausted down to her bones and she was fairly certain that her mouth had permanently frozen into a prim and polite smile.
With a sigh and a drop that would have put a fainting cinema damsel to shame, Petunia slumped into one of the plush chairs at the nearest table and closed her eyes.
“You look about as chipper as I feel.”
Petunia cracked open one eye and looked up to find her sister setting down a fresh cuppa and a plate of the day’s leftover blueberry scones and jam on the table in front of her. Lily then dropped down into the chair across, rolled her shoulder back, and let out a long, tired breath.
“You know I really thought the press would be tired of talking about us by now.” Petunia groaned, pulling herself upright with a great deal of effort. She winced as she reached for a scone, feeling the tightness in her back. She really wasn’t used to being on her feet for so long every day yet.
Lily shook her head, holding her teacup in her hands and staring into it blankly. “James thinks they’re going to watch everything we do for a while yet. I’m hoping that when the chatter about our grand opening settles, they’ll get bored of us and let us be. Then maybe we’ll have a more normal flow of customers coming in each day.”
“I bet we’d sound ridiculous to anyone else, complaining about our new shop being busy.” Petunia mused. “But I could really do for some dullness for at least a few days.”
In the months since the fall of Voldemort, the frenzy around the Evans sisters had yet to settle. Dubbed “the Sisters Who Stood Strong” by the papers, the story of Lily and Petunia somehow surviving a killing curse aimed squarely at them – with some key selections missing due to the classified and secretive nature of it all – was now the stuff of folk legend. People stopped them on the streets in Wizarding communities, some trying to give gifts, some trying to touch their hands believing them to be a sort of living permanent Felix Felicis potion, others simply looking at them with tears in their eyes.
And it had not stopped there. Little Harry had been dubbed “The Boy Who Lived” for also having been in the room when the Dark Lord attacked his mother and aunt. An enchanted statue had even been erected by a particularly proud and zealous group in Lily’s village of Godric’s Hollow, showing the sisters embracing in front of a child’s cot and only visible to those who knew it existed.
After repeated badgering and several owls a day, the Evans sisters had agreed to one interview with the Daily Prophet. That in turn led to a new deluge of letters from readers eager to know everything they could about the young mothers who they believed had ended a war. Interviews began to appear in every Wizarding tabloid around from people who had gone to school with Lily or had known her even in passing. Alongside these came endless speculative gossip columns wondering about Petunia, ranging from questions such as whether she was a Squib to if she was just pretending to be non-magical but was actually a skilled witch and part of a deeply embedded covert Unspeakables team. She and Remus had shared quite a laugh over the latter, with him jokingly calling her Jane Bond for a few days.
The public seemed unable to get enough of them both. So when word had gotten out that the Sisters Who Stood Strong were opening their own tea parlor in Diagon Alley, the papers and the radio had picked up on it almost immediately. And the Petal Parlor had a queue down the street hours before they’d even opened on their very first day of operation. The rest of the week all the way through to Saturday had been no different. They had previously decided to not open on Sundays to give themselves a break and so would have been closed the next day anyway, but they were seriously considering not opening on Mondays either. It was clear already that they would need more hands on deck at this pace.
And yet, even with fatigue cascading over her in waves and flour and tea still clinging to various parts of her dress, beneath it all Petunia was blissfully happy. They had come through much worse.
“I think we have a chance at wearing down Remus finally.” Lily said after a few moments. “It’s been busy enough that I think we can prove to him we genuinely need extra help and we’re not hiring him out of pity. Do you want to try to ask him at family dinner tomorrow night?”
They had offered Remus a position as a server at the parlor several times now, and each time he had declined politely. Petunia knew damn well that his pride was the reason, as he still felt very uncomfortable with what he saw as imposing or leeching from his friends no matter how much they argued that he was not. But if they presented the genuine need to him, Petunia agreed they just may have a chance at swaying him over.
“I have a better idea than us asking.” Petunia replied with a sly smile.
Lily tilted her head, furrowing her brows. But after a moment, Petunia saw comprehension dawn on Lily’s face as she smiled back conspiratorially. “You’re going to have Regulus ask instead because you know Remus still struggles to say no to him.”
“Exactly. And once Regulus hears how dreadfully busy we’ve been this week he’ll surely take up the cause to help us have more staff.”
“Is Sev coming home tomorrow for dinner? Maybe he can help appeal to logic on this one.”
Petunia nodded, finishing the bite of scone in her mouth – somewhere in the last few minutes she’d managed to eat two and hadn’t realized she was nearly through her third. “He’s coming home first thing in the morning and leaving right after dinner. But he’s been having a rough few weeks himself so I’m not sure he’ll be able to jump into the fray yet. You know he’s had to give seven detentions already?”
Lily winced. “Seven? It’s only been three weeks since he took over. Is it that bad?”
From what Petunia had heard of it in his first few letters and his two Sundays back at home for family dinner, Severus had been having a rough go settling into his new role at Hogwarts.
“There’s still some minor things to settle out with the older students. But last I spoke with him it sounded like he’s getting his feet under him. So when he comes home for the day tomorrow, I just have to hope that he’ll be in much better spirits. Now come on, we better finish tidying up so we can go home ourselves. I’m sure Eileen is enjoying spending so much time with the boys but she’s had a long week watching the pair of them at my place. They can be a handful at once, those two.”
With a few groans and stretches, the Evans sisters were back on their feet and ready to close up proper for the night. Crowds, chaos, and aches and pains aside, the week had overall been positive as an old girlhood dream finally came to be. Petunia only hoped that her soon-to-be-husband’s week had improved as well, and that he would be in good spirits when he arrived the next morning.
Going back to Hogwarts to teach a subject he had been certified in mastery of was supposed to be a victory lap for the newly minted Professor Severus Prince. He had suffered a good deal at this place for seven long years, but as he continued to assure himself in front of the mirror each day, he was no longer a student constantly having to watch his back and defend himself. He had power here, and respect. He was a proper adult now, and his former bullies were no longer an issue. It should have been the neat little bow atop all of his accomplishments.
But as he sat at the large oak table in one of the staff reading rooms and attempted to read the same paragraph for the hundredth time, Severus had to admit to himself that were it not for his impending Summer wedding - which he very much wanted to put away more money for - and for his young son and fiancée at home, he would have very likely quit after his first day.
In his handful of years removed from Hogwarts, he had somehow forgotten just how difficult teenagers could be. While the younger students were fairly easy to keep in line because they still had a fear of authority in them and withered under a sharp look, the older students were not so easily impressed nor intimidated. It had been an uphill battle just to make things manageable in the classroom.
Severus had not come in to the dungeon classroom initially with the intention to be frightening, but in his nervousness he had leaned rather far into sternness. His already reserved and perfectionist nature had not helped with that, and he found himself with no patience for even the simplest mistakes in his students’ potion-making attempts. He had less patience still for his older students, some of whom attempted to show off for their classmates or mouth back at him in a test of bravado. Several of the worst offenders were rewarded with a sharp dressing down and a weekend detention with Filch for their efforts. Thus, Severus’ reputation as an authoritarian was cemented by the end of the first week, and he knew there was no coming back from it.
To a degree, Severus could understand their frustration. They had begun the year with the good-natured Professor Slughorn, and while he played obvious favorites with his little Slug Club the students by and large enjoyed his easy-going personality. To have him depart so suddenly in the year and be replaced with a man his perfect opposite was jarring. He had already caught wind of some of the whispers about him, including a particularly ridiculous one about being a vampire that had annoyingly set Petunia into a laughing fit when he went home for Sunday dinner and told her about it. He’d also heard something about being a dungeon bat, and knew that had not been helped by the long sleeved all-black robes he’d opted to wear just to ensure his Dark Mark remained out of sight at all times. He had resolved to let all of the remarks and snide giggles roll off of him, tried to affirm to himself that the days of being picked on and pranked were over and that this was just children being foolish. And his post-war situation could have been much worse, he reminded himself – he could have been trapped in pure bureaucratic hell struggling to get accepted at the Ministry like Regulus currently was. He had over the past decade endured enough to thicken his skin several layers over by now. But under that tough and seemingly aloof exterior he had built for himself, Severus had to admit that the current situation was starting to wear him down quite a bit and had brought him to consider giving up already.
“You look distracted, Professor Prince.”
Startled by the sudden sound of another voice, Severus looked up to find Professor McGonagall looking at him, an eyebrow raised over the rim of her spectacles as she looked him over.
“I certainly hope you’ve not lost your attentiveness and other skills with the war behind us, Mister Prince.” She continued, likely noticing that she’d taken him by surprise.
“No, Professor.” Severus replied, annoyed at how sheepish he sounded to his own ears. Considering the formidable woman had taught him a few years ago, he had still yet to accept that they were technically equals on the staff now. He noticed a thick leatherbound book in her hand and remembered belatedly that he was in a reading room, and that was likely why she had entered in the first place. “Apologies. I can leave you to read in peace.”
As he moved to close up his own book and leave, McGonagall made a small, amused sound and waved him off. She took a seat across the table from him, her book making a resounding thud on the wood as she set it down.
“There is plenty of room for two, Mister Prince. No need to clear off. Though if I may say, it did not appear that you were getting much reading done at all. Are you alright?”
Severus immediately opened his mouth to say that he was fine and hopefully lapse back into silence to spare himself from further embarrassment – but he found the words would not come. He closed his mouth, wrestling with his thoughts for a moment. Ultimately, he decided that if he could trust any other member of the staff aside from the headmaster himself, it would be her.
“Not entirely, no…” he trailed off a moment, before continuing at her expectant look. “In all honesty I’m worried that I may have taken on more than I can properly handle.”
McGonagall’s brow arched higher than Severus thought it could. “You served as a spy under the Dark Lord’s very nose, and you believe that teaching is more than you can properly handle?”
“That somehow felt less volatile than dealing with ego-driven teenagers every day. Though admittedly, the behaviors among the Death Eaters were quite similar.” Severus said wryly.
“Having taught several of them in the years just prior, I am inclined to agree.” McGonagall sat straighter in her chair and pushed her book further to the side. “Why don’t you tell me what all exactly has happened in the few weeks since the Spring term began to make you feel this way?”
Though he was hesitant still and fearful of seeming weak or incapable, Professor McGonagall had already spoken to him far more than the other professors on staff had just yet. Everyone seemed far too busy with preparing for the upcoming examination period to get to know the new blood now, and he suspected that a few of them may not think of him fondly from his school days. The olive branch being extended now was too tempting to resist, and Severus decided to take a chance on opening up.
Starting from the first day of term, he went through his missteps and explained how he had come across to the students, detailing the rumors and gossip he had picked up on about himself. He recounted the rowdy behavior of a few students that had led to the harsh detentions, the countless points he’d had to dock from all four houses, and the lack of care about the subject or caution with the possibly dangerous materials in the classroom. After several long minutes of venting, he took a breath and finished simply “I feel like my toddler takes instruction better sometimes. And I’m exhausted.”.
“Welcome to teaching, Professor Prince. I value honesty far too much to lie to you and claim it gets any less exhausting as time goes on.”
Severus felt his facial expression fall into one of despair before he could control it. All of his exasperation and finally confessing his worries aloud, just to be told it wouldn’t get any better?
“Don’t make such a face. It remains exhausting but it does become easier to manage, over time. And it becomes far more rewarding, as well. Seeing your students grasp concepts and grow their skills over time, watching those students grow up, having their children come to Hogwarts to grow and learn as the years pass…it certainly has its pleasant moments. Far more good than bad, I would argue.”
“I would really like to get to the pleasant moments sooner than later.”
At this, McGonagall chuckled. “You’ve not even cleared a month yet, young man. You’ve some time to go. My entire first year of teaching I was sure that I was terrible at it. And here I still am. For what it’s worth, I think you are more capable than many of the new professors we’ve had over the years. Whether the students care for you or not, that will be for you to decide how much it matters and if it’s possible to turn around. But whether or not you are a good professor – I think that you certainly have the makings of one. You just need to give yourself time before you start waving the white flag.”
Severus felt a little of the gloom that had been hanging over him for days lift from his shoulders. From his years learning from her, he knew that Professor McGonagall was not in the business of inflating egos or giving praise when she felt it wasn’t earned. If she thought he had a chance at being decent in the job, then who was he to question her judgement?
“Thank you, professor. For hearing my problems and for your advice.”
She nodded in acknowledgement before reaching for her book to pull it closer once more, finally opening it to read. “As faculty we have a duty to assist one another, Severus. I should be glad to offer further guidance to a colleague, if you find yourself in need of it.”
He wasn’t sure that he would ever feel like he was a true colleague to someone like McGonagall, but Severus nonetheless nodded and thanked her and, reminding himself that he was in fact a professor and not a student in a place he was not supposed to be, he took up his book once more.