Taming the True Fire (HP)

Spring had arrived hesitantly at Spinner's End, casting an unexpected warmth over its usually dreary streets. The old, sagging brick houses, their walls stained and crumbling, seemed to hold the sunlight reluctantly, as if unaccustomed to such warmth. Pale green tendrils crept up through cracks in the pavements, small yet defiant, softening the harshness of the asphalt with their delicate, hopeful presence. The muddy river, normally sluggish and murky, sparkled in places, catching flashes of sunlight as it wound its way past the worn-out buildings, and for once, the scent of fresh grass and budding leaves overpowered the usual smell of smoke and damp stone. 

Eileen Snape sat at the old wooden table in her small kitchen, dressed in a faded black dress that hung loosely on her emaciated frame. A few white streaks threaded her dark hair, tightly secured in a bun. She had opened the door to let in the sun's warmth, hoping it would dispel some of the gloom that lingered in the house even with Tobias gone. Spread across the table were several pieces of clothing, and she focused intently on casting a Stitching Charm to embroider delicate flowers along the hem of a skirt. The charm required precision and drained her energy quickly, but it allowed her to earn enough for food and basic necessities. In fact, she'd managed to save just enough for a small piece of lamb, hoping to prepare it for Severus's return. But, in the end, he had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, and she couldn't blame him. Her own school days had been the happiest of her life, and without the looming threat of his father, Severus had little reason to return to this bleak house.

A knock on the doorframe jolted the woman from her thoughts. She quickly rose, expecting one of her customers, only to find herself face-to-face with a tall, dignified man who appeared to be in his sixties. Silver hair, swept back from his forehead, highlighted the angular lines of his face and sharp jawline. He wore a tailored mid-weight coat in soft charcoal, fastened with horn buttons, over a crisp white shirt and a light beige linen cravat. Well-tailored, warm brown trousers and polished leather shoes added to the sense of authority and luxury that the newcomer exuded.

"It's been a long time, Ellie." – the man said in a deep, resonant baritone. His eyes, a rare and unusual shade of blue that appeared violet in certain light, met the witch's identical gaze for the first time in over sixteen years. 

"Your Grace." – Eileen murmured, sinking into a curtsy, her eyes fixed on the floor – "I never thought I'd see you in a place like this."

"There's no place I wouldn't go for you." – Duke Prince replied, stepping inside and surveying the narrow, worn kitchen and the unfinished clothes still piled on the table – "You know that the only reason I haven't reached out was your own obstinate refusal to hear from me."

"Then why are you here now?" – the witch asked coldly, ignoring the flicker of hurt in her father's eyes.

"I thought you'd have had enough time to reevaluate your options after the death of your… hmm… husband." – the aristocrat replied, without a hint of regret for the unfortunate demise of Tobias Snape.

"My options? I have no choice but to work hard and support my son!" – Eileen snapped, her thin face contorted with anger – "How did you even find out about Tobias? Are you spying on me?"

"I don't spy on you." – the Duke denied coolly – "But during the holidays, I've always tried to catch a glimpse of you, no matter how painful it was to watch you ruin your life and shred your dignity for that worthless, vile piece of filth."

"What do you even know about my dignity?" – the woman laughed bitterly, pulling away as he reached to take her hand.

"Sufficient as I'd have happily rid the world of that filthy Muggle cockroach if you hadn't done it first." – he hissed, raw magic crackling in the air between them.

Eileen went pale as a ghost. "I thought I sensed the spirit of air back then, but I assumed it was Severus."

"Oh, please." – the Duke chuckled grimly – "Your boy has a strong inclination, but without proper training, he wouldn't be able to control enough power to do the necessary damage. You, on the other hand, clearly remember Canopus' lessons, despite your stubborn refusal to finish them. That was exactly what learning elemental magic prepared you for."

"Get out!" – the witch screamed, her violet eyes brimming with desperate tears.

"Please, Ellie!" – Alexander Prince implored, taken aback by her reaction – "I want us to try and fix things between us. You don't want to be the heiress of House Prince? Fine. Plus, you have a son—he's half Prince and could be named an heir in your place. Just come home!" 

"After all these years, you still have no idea what truly upsets me or what I want!" – Eileen shouted, her eyes gleaming with an intense blue light – "You only care about House Prince and your precious heritage! You haven't even called Severus by his name, and already you want to turn him into another obedient puppet for your pathetic power games!"

"That's not true!" – the wizard insisted, his voice fervent – "All I've ever wanted is for you to be safe. I couldn't bear to lose you like I lost your mother! Your son… Severus should decide for himself if he wants to be my heir, but I've seen his potential. Most importantly, though, I want my family back!"

"You wanted me to be safe…" – the woman laughed bitterly, almost hysterically, as water erupted from the sink and began spilling onto the floor – "Your 'care' ruined my life! But you know, I'm not much better, because in turn, I did the same to my child. You might be right that he'd gladly jump at the chance to escape the misery and seize the opportunities he deserves. However, I'll do a better job than you and protect him from your world—even if he hates me for it!"

"Eileen, I don't understand why you're reacting this way!" – the man said gently, disregarding the water flowing freely around him and ruining his John Lobb shoes – "Please, calm down! You're clearly not well. Let me help you!"

"Just leave!" – Eileen sobbed, turning her back on him – "I don't want to see you again!"

Duke Prince sighed, slipping his hand into his coat pocket. "I understand that you're overwhelmed with emotion." - he said quietly - "Take this. Use it to contact me when you change your mind. I'll come immediately."

With a loud crack, the aristocrat disapparated. The witch rushed to close the door, desperate to shut out the world. Her gaze fell on the kitchen counter, where her father had left a small glass sphere filled with a swirling silver fog that occasionally shimmered in rainbow hues—condensed spirit of air. She knew that if the glass broke, Alexander would know instantly. Another one of his clever tricks, always keeping everyone under his control.

Eileen seized the sphere and shoved it into a nearby drawer. Her anger, slowly dissipating after the Duke's departure, was replaced by an overwhelming sorrow. Long-buried memories rose to the surface as she hurried upstairs to Severus's room—the only place in the house untainted by violence and abuse in her mind.

She felt a wave of guilt that her son had to live in such meagre conditions, but she could not imagine exposing him to the aristocrats' world—a nest of predators disguised in fine clothes. Burying her face in Severus's pillow to muffle her cries, she felt, once again, the cold touch of that man's hands and saw his icy blue eyes that haunted her nightmares. Compared to him, Tobias Snape was nothing more than a rusted blade beside a gleaming, deadly sword.

"I'd rather perish than go back to that hell!" – Eileen sobbed, curling into a foetal position on her son's bed.