Tea with Albus Bubbledoor
Once inside the office, Severus Snape woke the old Headmaster and asked him to step down to a lower visitor's frame to meet someone. Dumbledore, more than a little surprised to see Severus carrying a small person in his arms, agreed. Once settled, he said, "Hello... My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Who might you be?"
"Hallo, my name is Albus Seberus Potter," the boy grinned, "And I wish my name was as big as yours… Dat would be fun!" The older man chuckled, more amused than Severus had seen him in a long while, and replied to the boy.
"Oh, my dear boy… It's not fun at all! I was a very old man before I could remember how to spell all my names, and when I have to sign something? Good heavens!” the old Headmaster exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, “It takes me about an hour!" Severus gently tipped the boy into the chair closest to old Albus. He stood him up, set his little hands on the knobs of the chair back with the admonishment to “Hold on.” Albus, young and old, began to natter away like old friends as Severus added a safety charm to the boy’s perch.
Severus waved Hermione to a small sofa near the two Albus’ and mouthed, “Tea?” She nodded as she listened to the visitors chattering about such crucial matters as bossy big brothers, why little sisters are smelly, broom rides and disgusting food.
She watched Severus make her a cup of tea precisely how she liked it and wondered if he had memorised how all his professors took their tea—most likely, she smiled—he was a Potions Master, after all.
Hermione thanked Severus as she wrapped her chilly hands around her cup. Noting this, Severus sneakily shot a warming charm on the floor beneath her sock-clad feet. She smiled at him over the rim of her cup, took a sip, and sighed happily. Severus truly did make the best tea.
“Would you like a lemon drop?” Dumbledore asked his namesake, glancing at Hermione for permission. She nodded and raised a finger to indicate the boy could have one. He nodded as Albus replied.
“Wass a lemon drop? Is it heavy?”
“No, it’s a little sweetie,” Dumbledore said, “Severus?”
“Ooh, YES! I likes sweeties!” young Albus said, bouncing on the cushy seat of his chair.
Severus fished a lemon drop from the sectioned candy bowl on his desk—it also held toffees and Maltesers. Handing the boy the sweet, he waited until he put it into his mouth, surreptitiously holding a napkin. After a few seconds, young Albus’ face squinched up, looking frantically around. The Headmaster held out the napkin, and Albus immediately spit the sweetie into it.
“Das horrible, Albus Bubbledoor! It had dis much sweet,” Albus replied, fingers mimicking a tiny pinch, “An’ dis much sours!” His arms were flung wide, indicating how much he disliked the old headmaster’s idea of a sweetie. “I bet Uncle Seberus doesn’t eat doze.”
“Absolutely NOT.”
“Oh, well,” Albus Dumbledore replied with a shrug, “I suppose you have to be as old as me to enjoy them.”
“Okay,” the boy replied thoughtfully, “When I’s as old as you, I pwomise to try dem again.”
Hermione tried to pay attention to more of the Albus’s conversation, but the only thing on her mind was how well Severus was taking this intrusion to his Saturday afternoon. Maybe it was because Albus Severus was his namesake? She seemed to recall that he’d been attending a Potions Symposium in Belgium on Albus’ Naming Day, and it was possible he’d never been made aware. She doubted he even glanced at any of the baby announcements and Naming Day invitations he received. Minerva had let slip once that the Headmaster kept a closet of children’s books, pre-wrapped and signed, in one of the storage areas behind his desk. Albus, Lily, and James received a book from the Headmaster, all addressed to ‘Baby Potter’. James’ was an alphabet book with illustrations that changed every time the book was opened. Lily’s book was full of baby animals and flowers, and Albus received a book about magical creatures with moving artwork. James had never looked at his book once; Albus carried both books everywhere. Lily was still too young for hers.
She grinned, thinking about Severus giving up his morning to entertain the spawn of The Boy Who Lived To Annoy Him Over And Over Again. Harry and Ginny were definitely going to be surprised to hear about this weekend, and knowing Albus, they’d be hearing quite a lot. With a grin, she flicked a glance in Severus’ direction and froze; Severus was watching her smile like a Cheshire cat, and when he caught her eye, he quirked a brow at her in curiosity. She shook her head, burying her face in her tea, cheeks tinted a rosy pink. Ugh! She felt like she was still eighteen, with a crush on her Potions Master.
And it was true; she had developed a crush on Severus back then. But now, finally, she knew it was something else altogether. Watching him from beneath her lashes as she sipped, she couldn't deny what he did to her heart. Hermione wondered how he always managed to catch her glancing at him, making her blush. At the same time as she was berating herself for acting like a silly schoolgirl, she did wish he would stop being so cautious; Hermione was almost sure he didn’t loathe her anymore—something she’d become aware of during a waltz at one of Draco’s fundraisers.
Their tea was almost finished when they heard Professor Dumbledore ask jovially, "So, what are you going to be doing this fine afternoon, young Albus?"
Young Albus pondered this momentarily, then slyly looked over his shoulder at his aunt. "Auntie Mia said a bad word. I can't tell you, though," he whispered dramatically, "’Cuz it was turr’ble bad." Hermione rolled her eyes as she took her last sip of tea. "Uncle Seberus says dere's no Swears Jar here. So, I fink, maybe Auntie Mia should gives me a liquorice wand," he said, a twinkle in his eye. Old Albus chuckled at that announcement, and even Severus barked out a laugh.
"Really, Severus," Hermione grumbled as she now stood beside the Headmaster. Her automatic reflex—learnt from dealing with Harry and Ronald—caused an arm to snap out and backhand him on the chest, but she wasn't quick enough on her retrieval.
Severus caught her hand and held it trapped against his robes. He liked how she glanced at it, cheeks pinking again. She began to gnaw a bit on her bottom lip before looking up at him.
"I believe that I, too, am owed a liquorice wand," he professed softly, caressing her slender fingers with his thumb, "As I had to hear the very bad word as well." He smirked at Hermione’s cocked eyebrow and turned to the boy. "We should make a trip to Hogsmeade to rectify the matter,” the Headmaster said decisively, “But you, young Albus, will have to promise to walk the whole way up and the whole way back. Auntie Mia and I are much too old to carry such a big boy as yourself."
Albus crowed happily and took a flying leap from his chair, landing with his hands on his hips. "I AM a big boy, and I can walk for-EBER! I promise," he swore, sticking out a chubby hand. Severus regrettably loosed Hermione's hand to shake hands with the wily child.
"Now, then," said Severus, "I am going to change out of my robes, and you are going to put on a jacket and help your Auntie find her shoes." His eyebrow rose as he glanced at her wiggling toes in the chartreuse socks.
"Oh, hush, you," she said with a mock scowl, "These socks are VERY comfy and easy to find."
"C'mon! C'mon, Auntie Mia! We gotsa get ready!" Albus cried, running for the door. Hermione followed him with a grin, pausing with her hand on the handle.
“Severus?”
“Mmm?” he replied, turning back towards her.
“How does Filius take his tea?”
An incredibly puzzled look crossed his face before he answered. “I have absolutely no idea, Hermione. Why would you even ask me that?”
“No reason,” she replied, taking Albus’ hand as she led him through the door with a happy smile.
Old Albus was chuckling again as he returned to his frame, and Severus turned a cranky face in his direction. “What are you laughing at, old man?”
“Ms Granger’s not so subtle question….”
“About tea? Really, Albus--” Severus rolled his eyes.
“No, you sorry excuse for a Slytherin,” interrupted Phineas, “She asked about Filius’ tea….” Several other portraits, who were nodding at each other, turned toward Severus.
Severus, completely nonplused, turned to stare at the portraits with his hands on his hips, a frown beginning to crease his brow.
“Gentlemen, ladies, you’re SO not being helpful. Leave the poor boy be,” Dilys admonished. “Severus, dear, the girl was trying to figure out if you knew how to make everyone their preferred cup of tea--"
"Which, apparently, you do not," interrupted a smirking Phineas, "You only make her the perfect cup of tea..."