Wildflowers

Correspondence

Severus arrived at Malfoy Manor with a sharp tug in his chest as the silver spoon Portkey deposited him just outside the grand entrance. 

The stately grounds, surrounded by manicured hedges and the familiar imposing walls of the manor, were bathed in the pale winter light. He stood still for a moment, adjusting his cloak, his breath hanging in the crisp air as he let the familiarity of the scene wash over him.

For the first time in weeks, Severus didn't feel the oppressive weight of sadness that had followed him since he'd left Ilvermorny. His conversation with Katelyn, though difficult, had given him something he hadn't expected: hope. 

The certainty that, while things were unresolved, there was still a future to be imagined—a future where waiting didn't feel so empty. He didn't feel as lost as he had before, though a quiet part of him still ached.

The grand doors of Malfoy Manor creaked open just as he approached, as if Lucius had sensed his arrival. The familiar figure of Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway, dressed in his fine, tailored robes with his signature silver-blond hair cascading over his shoulders. A wide smile spread across Lucius' face, one of genuine warmth—something that only ever seemed reserved for Severus.

"Severus," Lucius greeted him, stepping forward with outstretched arms as if to embrace him. "It's good to see you, my friend. You've been gone far too long."

Severus nodded slightly, allowing a rare small smile to tug at the corner of his lips. He had always appreciated Lucius' unwavering confidence, even when it bordered on arrogance. Today, however, Severus found himself more at ease, no longer drowning in the turmoil of his own thoughts.

"It's good to be back," Severus replied, his voice steady, though he could still hear the subtle weight of the past few weeks in it. He followed Lucius inside, the warmth of the manor embracing him immediately, the scent of burning logs from the fireplace filling the air.

Lucius, ever the gracious host, waved his hand to one of the house-elves, who immediately scurried forward to take Severus' travel cloak. They made their way through the elegant hallways, the floors gleaming underfoot, to one of the sitting rooms, where a fire crackled warmly in the hearth. The grand opulence of the room was so familiar to Severus, yet today, it felt a little different—perhaps because he felt a little different.

Lucius poured them both a drink, handing Severus a glass of firewhisky before settling into one of the plush armchairs. "So," Lucius began, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with curiosity. "How was it? Have you finally severed ties with that dreadful school?"

Severus took a slow sip of the firewhisky, the warmth spreading through his chest. He met Lucius' gaze, knowing his old friend expected to hear all the gory details of his departure. But Severus wasn't in the mood for dissecting the past, not today.

"After the holidays," Severus said, setting his glass down on the small table beside him, "I'm going to start looking for a new position. Something more suited to my abilities." He paused, his voice softening just slightly as he added, "And I'll be searching for a cottage to settle down in."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the declaration. He set his own glass down, leaning forward with a smirk playing on his lips. "A cottage?" Lucius echoed, his tone teasing but curious. "Severus Snape, master of potions and purveyor of mysteries, looking for a quaint little home?"

Severus gave him a dry look but didn't rise to the bait. "It's time I put down some roots of my own," he said simply. "For once in my life."

Lucius' smirk faded into something more genuine, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "There's no reason to rush," Lucius said, his voice smoother now, almost persuasive. "You can stay here as long as you like. The manor has more than enough room, and you'd have all the space you need for your work. No need to go trudging about looking for some cottage in the middle of nowhere."