Evelyn Alice Bates (@dreamssorestless )
Ah, the tournament. Before then, everything had been fine and dandy. Evelyn thought it was going to be simple enough; go off to Scottland for the year, teach the seventh years their potions lessons while they were there, watch three dumb teenagers fight for a trophy and prize money, go home at the end of the year and really start her teaching career at Beauxbatons…
…but that hadn’t been as simple as it had been in her head, from the night that the names came out of that goblet.
Everything had been fine at first, the goblet spitting out the name of a champion chosen from each school; Fleur Delcour from Beauxbatons and my, had she shamed her ancestors losing to a bunch of boys, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, and Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts the poor kid. They’d all gone into another room for the congratulatory nonsense, all was well…until Harry Potter walked in all shocked-like, with three Hogwarts professors following soon after, and Dumbledore asking the kid if he’d put his name illegally into the Goblet of Fire (him being underage and all). No, the kid hadn’t, and had as little clue as to what the bloody hell happened as the adults around him did.
So then, three champions became four, and many of that poor kid’s classmates wanted him on a pike for glory-seeking. Had she thought this kid would survive the tournament? Hell no she didn’t, but even she knew better to think the poor bastard actually had wanted to compete in this tournament. Evelyn knew something was amiss, for sure, but hadn’t known what it was…
It was a hell of a school year, but the silver lining. Evelyn had actually made a friend, a good one…
Severus Snape, Hogwarts’ Potions Master. A surly and grim man…but absolutely brilliant, and quite charming in his own way. The kind of charm she rather liked, and she had enjoyed his company over those months immensely. She could have talked to him for hours about potions, new spells (as he himself said he’d crafted some of his own in his youth), her inventions…it felt so good to talk to someone on her level, who appreciated her and her work.
And then, that night of the final trial. Fleur had been taken out of the game first, then Krum…and then, Potter apparated into the middle of the stadium with the dead body of poor Cedric Digory she could still remember the anguished cries of that poor boy’s father. How he’d brought news of the return of evil incarnate, and that a Death Eater by the name of…Wormtail?? It was him that murdered that poor Diggory boy in front of the Potter kid. Turns out, poor Alastor Moody, that year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, had been locked in a box all year and was kept alive for polyjuice ingredients for one Barty Crouch Junior…who she’d happily popped in the konk for murdering one of her fur babies earlier that year, her precious Biscuit. Her very first familiar, Crouch brought her number from three kitties to one when her poor baby stumbled on him taking the potion, according to him.
She’d had to leave before Severus returned from…something, whatever he was doing that was so important that he’d had to suddenly leave after securing Potter…not that she could stay long, either. Madame Maxime had allowed her to leave ahead of everyone else to bring warnings to her family, being made up of muggles in the know and all. She’d told her stepfather, Nicci, an auror for the French Ministry of Magic, and her Aunt Christine, another French auror married to her Uncle Carlisle, of all that had occurred in Scottland. The five of them had made the hard, but necessary decision to spirit her father and uncle far, far away. Thankfully, there was money and connections on their side that gave them a place to go…but since then, Evelyn had been alone in their cozy home in Bordeaux, by the seaside. It had been almost three years since, and she’d kept herself busy with the things she had before…but it was still hard, not having her fathers there to critique and praise her work…but hey, she still had Maggie and Snow at least.
Everything remained basically the same, other than the news of the situation getting progressively worse over in Great Britain. Evelyn had actually been working on refining some new magic, when the alarm bell went off in her workroom to let her know that someone was on her doorstep. Setting aside her project for now, she dusted herself off and went to open the door…only to find the best surprise she’d had in years.
“Severus? What a wonderful surprise!” her eyes were alight with joy at seeing him, having not a clue in the world of what he was about to ask of her. “Come in, I’ll put some tea on!”
Severus is received into her home with an enthousiasm he struggles to match. He doesn’t want to be here. Vaguely wondering if as much is obvious in his demeanor, he makes an attempt to answer her smile and nod when she offers him tea. It feels desceptive to allow this to take on the shape of a social visit, but it’s not like he can just drop the proverbial bomb on her and be done with it. After all, that’s why Dubledore had asked him to recruit her. Because they’d been friends. Because she’d trust him. He feels sick.
“ I hope it’s no inconvenciene- ”
The words are spoken almost formally - tensely. For someone who had - up until this point - managed to trick one of the most powerful ( && paranoid ) wizards alive he had a significant amount of trouble keeping up pretences now. He’d told Dumbledore this was a bad idea. He lacked the necessary d e t a c h m e n t to bring this to a good end && what’s more - bringing her in would be nothing but a dangerous distraction as far as he was concerned. But in the end, Severus followed orders. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only thing he really knows how to do. The only thing he had ever really done, no matter the guise of i n d e p e n d a n c e he upheld.
Not much longer, they are both seated in Evelyn’s living room with a steaming cup of herbal tea in front of them. His well-practiced speech isn’t going nearly as smoothly as he’d anticipated. Severus still hasn’t explained why he’s here.
“ I suppose you have already figured this is not merely a social visit-”
