Christmas was close and the `bastard´; how Ginny once had named him in London; was more alive than ever. Months had passed but she still bore Snape’s whatever-game of random-confusing-advice-dropping and other likely statements he had reassumed. This time, in the subject he had so long desired to be teaching, even if he had denied it in front of Umbridge. She bore this game, which she had to admit, went on her own account. Knowing of his good memory, sometimes she wished she hadn’t told him that she didn’t care whether he continued treating her like scum.
Though what Hermione had heard from Harry ever since the beginning of the school year, hadn’t been too pleasant to consider and was still burnt into every fibre of her body, much to her own discomfort: that this subject seemed to be cursed – that he might quite likely not survive the year or at least be fired. How would she find out whether he really protected Harry just because of Lily, if he continued exactly like this and then lost his job? Or worse, his l- no. Horrible enough, Harry had even recognisably increased his average number per week of wishing Snape dead. That had definitely been the climax of his unconditional hate so far. She just hoped Harry’s powers hadn’t secretly grown to the extent of making ghastly wishes come true. At least concerning Snape. She wouldn’t have minded him successfully wishing Voldemort to hell – or Malfoy. And his gang. She desperately fought the urge to turn anything into a gigantic sword every time Pansy Parkinson was around.
But there was a small light on the end of the tunnel she prayed for everyone to see and actually apprehend. One thing was finally confirmed, no matter how much he verbally bullied the students. As a matter of fact, he did teach them defensive magic, concentrating especially on making them able to cast it non-verbally – so did the other teachers, but still. If he actually wanted to bring down Voldemort, at least that was proof enough. Proof enough for Hermione, even if Ron insisted that this was just a tactic to distract everyone from his actual intentions; but what did Ron get right lately anyway? What did she care about that Ron? She cared so much about him that she had actually asked Cormac McLaggen out for Slughorn’s personal Pre-Christmas-Party, just to make Ron possibly jealous. Not enough, she had even spread rumours that she was dating that swellheaded pea-brain.
It had barely been seven o’clock when she had stormed up to the dormitory, leaving Harry with a box of Chocolate Cauldrons presented to him by none other than hag number three, Romilda Vane – and shortly before reaching the door, running back downstairs and out of the common room when she had heard a loud, very exaggerated giggle that would surely not be deadened by the door at all. Because, as for hag number one – having managed to kick Pansy onto second place – she could vomit by the mere thought of her and she wasn’t sure anymore whom to slay first.
Pathetic, she heard her own voice in her head, again remembering that moment more than three years ago. The events of the past years had really weakened her. Vomiting because of Dementors was acceptable. But because of that snake Lavender – without actually wanting, tears came to her eyes. Angry tears. And the more tears came, the more her anger stepped aside to let despair overwhelm her. To think that that bitch’s snoring had benefited her until the beginning of –
She had no idea for how long she had sat curled up on the dusty staircase in that abandoned tower with no glass in the arched windows. She didn’t even feel the cold of the winter outside. Sobbing heavily, she stared somewhere beside her knees, when she believed to have heard something. Looking up, she examined her surrounding and listened closely. Nothing. With a sigh, she dropped her head, just to startle up again.
“You are not supposed to sit on a staircase like this, in a tower like this, in the middle of the night – again.”
The deep voice came whispering kind of softly, but rather emotionless from in front of her, though there was nobody. Just slowly, he appeared as if from thin air. Off her mind, she couldn’t even wonder how he managed to become invisible without a cloak like Harry’s. Still crying, she looked away.
“You could land yourself in detention.”
“What do I care about detention.”, she replied a little snooty, to her own surprise. “And I’m a Prefect.”
“But I care. Why are you sitting here, crying?”
“That’s none of your business.”, it just burst from her mouth. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“Would I not?”
“No! You wouldn’t! Because you don’t know what it’s like!”, she cried, still not looking at him. “You don’t know what it’s like to love someone who’s out of reach.”, she sniffed, noticing the sadness crawling into his face even from the corner of her eye and understood somewhere in the back of her head that she had accused the wrong person.
“I do.”
She barely heard it through her sobbing, but she did, though not fully trusting her own ears whether they had in fact heard him saying what she had been suspecting ever since he had looked out of the windows in the Hospital Wing in thoughts.
“What?”, lifting her head, she eyed him through the veil of her tears, slightly lit by the winter moonlight, their eyes meeting.
“I said – I do.”, he whispered, closed his eyes for a short moment, then looked at the cold grey stone floor.
“You – ”
Hermione wiped away some of her tears with the back of her right hand, seeing him raising his head again, for gazing out the glassless window to his left, lips opened just a wee bit, like she had seen him several times in the past. Then he lowered his head once more, slowly walked towards her, gave the stair she sat on a cleaning wave of his hand and took a seat at her right, not looking at her. Still chuckling quietly from her former crying, she watched him staring into space for a while, until a single tear ran from his left eye, shimmering in the pale, indirect light falling through the arches. He pushed his left hand into the left pocket of his black trousers and Hermione already expected his special pouch.
Astonished, she found him taking out a neatly folded white handkerchief made from cotton fabric. He obviously hadn’t used it since the last wash. Much more, he offered it to her, yet not daring to look at her. With another glance at the silhouette of his sad face, she took it with her trembling hands and he placed his flatly on his thighs while she cleaned her nose, then wiped off her remaining tears.
“Tell me about him.”, he whispered.
“Sir?”
“Tell me about Ronald.”, he actually knew? “Don’t look at me like your mind didn’t expect me to know when your heart says different. Believe it or not, I recognise love when I see it. So do you, so does Harry, so does Ginny Weasley, so – does everyone who truly loved for at least one moment. That, I know for sure, even if I have no clue why the very same love makes us do the most stupid things, crushing us all in the end beneath the ruins of our luck, demolished by our mindless mistakes.”, Hermione was used to hear him playing with words, but that truth spoken out loud, just overstrained her in the current situation.
“Who?”, was all she could get out, feeling her eyes pleading to have her considerations confirmed at last.
“I reckon, you followed my advices.”, he said it as though he knew she had. “I ever knew you can keep secrets. For some time, I feared your hormones or probity would win, but given the fact they haven’t, I can see how similar we actually are, in some ways.”, he paused. “You mustn’t tell anyone, I cannot emphasise this often enough. No matter what happens, no one must know. Albus knows little, so does Minerva, I think, though not the essentials. Harry found out parts – just – not the whole truth, and that bugs him too much anyway. Hermione – you must – swear – to me – whatever happens, don’t tell anyone. Not even Ginny. Yes, I know quite well that she can put one and one together and has seen and heard things she might actually take into account, but whatever happens, she is not supposed to know the reasons. Not yet.”
“I swear.”, Hermione aspirated, still waiting for him to look at her, but he wouldn’t; he only took a very deep breath and she decided to listen to what he was going to tell her.
“My father was a Muggle, my mother a Witch.”, he then started, apparently satisfied with her reaction. “She had found him on the street in the rain, homeless, a bottle of wine in his hand and shaking heavily. Though she had a humble flat and an even more humble income, working as an assistant at Flourish and Blotts, she took him to live with her. Not knowing him, never having seen him before, never having talked to him before. She brought him to her flat, let him sleep in her bed and took the floor instead. She gave him food and shelter for one night – or more, if he promised to stop drinking and get a job.”
To Hermione, this sounded like either something really brave or something really stupid. A lone woman taking a complete stranger and drunk home with her –
“My mother had a quite reliable talent for seeing the good in peoples’ eyes. She got him off the street, off alcohol and he even took on a job at the local grocery store, one of the first ones of its kind back then in the fifties. Second World War had ended not long ago when they met. Everyone had hope for a better future. So did they as well. They became friends – fell in love – married – everything was perfect. They had enough for living. Just living. Later on, only a little more, to find themselves a slightly bigger home. But they were happy. Then she got pregnant. And they knew that – ”, he broke off.
“That things wouldn’t be rosy from then.”, Hermione finished.
“Exactly. He worked longer, took a second job at weekends, down in the mill.”
“Did he know she was a witch?”
“Of course. And she was, as I said, a gifted witch. Did a lot by magic, saving money like nobody would have been able to. She could repair everything, wash all things without having to pay for the water, heat the flat, heal wounds, brew medicine – but still they had just little money to pay for the rent or food. And now there would be a child to feed. Even more tragic, two.”
“She got pregnant again?”
“No. I had a twin brother.”
Those words came with such sorrow, Hermione feared to fall into a deep depression herself. She only watched him breathing in search for words. It had never come to her mind whether he had ever had siblings. So many hours she had spent in the last three years, thinking about him, but hadn’t – well, she had, she now remembered.
“Non-identical. Speaking about looks,”, he said, perhaps to give himself some time to think, she considered, “While I came exactly after Mother, he was Father’s mirror, if not so well-built in the end. I inherited a tiny bit more of Father’s size – and his nose, unfortunately.”
“There’s not a thing wrong about your nose, Sir.”, he chuckled, her suspicions getting stronger again.
“How very charming. But noses are the least important thing to discuss now.”, Hermione swallowed down a smirk, pondering why he indeed brought it up. “Probably even less important than Tubeworms in the process of baking cake.”
“Sorry.”, she mumbled. “So – they didn’t give one of you away, did they? Or – ”
“They did. He got adopted by a very caring couple, actually not looking too different from our father, though they weren’t relatives at all – a fortune that made things easier, as Mother had said.“
“So he never knew his real parents? Or you? But you must have been at Hogwarts together, not?”
“Of course we had been at Hogwarts together. But I am afraid he never really figured out that I could be his brother. Maybe he had felt something, yet I don’t know what exactly he had felt as he had constantly been unsure about it. I however, of course recognised the almost-copy of our father when he was; meant by which fate ever; sitting in front of me on the train. Nevertheless, by the way he treated me from the first moment on and by how different we looked, I think I could have never made him believe me, no matter how hard I would have tried. So I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry for you – ”
“There is no need for you to be.”, he lightly shook his head. “Anyway, his adoptive parents had more money and gave some to our real parents every month. Not directly, but Mother would find monthly envelopes with some Galleons in the post-box. She locked everything away, not telling Father about it. She wanted to grant me a better life in future or paying school in case it was needed.”
“In case you weren’t a wizard.”, Hermione nodded, knowing how much her parents had put aside for a good education. “But you turned out to be.”
“Of course. My mother’s genes had been so strong, it would have needed a miracle for me to become a Squib. But even in those days, new books and other stuff for Hogwarts and the uniform weren’t cheap either.”
“So the reason remained the same.”
“Yes. Though I then reused most of her books and even parts of the uniform, before I grew out of it. You see, I had to. I was just ten when he found the money.”, he carried on about the cause. “Suddenly my formerly – er – rather careless father turned into a brutal beast. Mother was too perplexed, too scared to use magic against him – too shocked as to overpower him so she could tell him why she had hidden it. He – he hit – hit her severely – worse than ever – she was close to dying when he finally stopped – took the money – and left. From then on we tried to convince everyone who asked, that he was sitting at home, ill.”
“And your mother got well? Fully? I mean,”
“I could cure her with the potions we had in storage. She was a strong woman. Went to work again the following day. Worked even more, even harder. I was – an easy child, if you want to call it that way. I could take care of myself. Most days, before and after, I spent wandering around in town or outside – learned to climb trees – houses later. Then I just sat there, up high, enjoying the landscape outside the town. While other children were playing they could fly like birds, I sat in the trees or on the roofs – and had no need of such dreams. Being able to reach places the others couldn’t, made me feel like I was free as a bird. On other days I locked myself in an read until Mother came home.”
“That didn’t bring you many friends, did it?”
“No.”, he laughed quietly and dull – but it was the first time she had ever heard him laugh in any way. “I had no friends for a very long time. You know, like my mother did as a child, I looked rather odd. Big dark eyes, pale skin, messy black hair additionally cut in a lazy way that wouldn’t make anyone believe I could be friendly, and my clothes were mostly a mixed mess as well, too wide for me. I was the strange boy from the pit, so to say. But I didn’t care. I had the trees – I had the wind – the sky – the books – and I had Mother. That was all I needed. Yes, it made me a bit sad, watching the other children having fun, but I knew I was different in fact and that made it easier for me to accept I could also enjoy different things.”
“So you were always alone?”
“Not really. There were the Evans, living next alley. I had watched them, but some months before Father left us, for the very first time I caught myself caring for another person than my mother. The Evans were a Muggle couple with two daughters. One of them, however, was unlike her family and her sister hated that. She hated her. Hated her for being able to do the most beautiful things, like for example making a flower appear on her bare hands or turning fallen leaves purple just by simply wanting it. After having heard it for almost a year, I couldn’t listen to it anymore. I couldn’t listen to Petunia calling her sister a freak. So I did what I could do best to other children when they came at me. I scared her so much that she would never approach or insult her sister again, when I was around.”
“And you have found a friend at last.”, he still didn’t look at Hermione, but nodded.
“Lily and I became more than just friends. We became, what others who have friends, would call best friends. But you know that. We were like one. I had someone who shared the roofs and the books with me until we finally then got our letters. Two months later, our friendship should be put to test. We were sorted into different Houses. But that didn’t stop us, naturally. Our friendship was breaking every unwritten rule. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin being best friends – scandalous.”, he smiled wearily. “One teacher couldn’t help noticing our friendship and our skills and that, combined, we would make the kind of students he had ever wished to – ”, he sighed with slight disgust, “Collect.”
“Professor Slughorn was the teacher you mentioned last year?”, Hermione remembered him standing with his back on her.
“Has Harry told you what Albus wants him to do?”
“Of course.”
“Then he also told you why I had stopped giving him Occlumency lessons?”
“Faintly.”, she sighed as sad as he looked. “I mean, he didn’t name it, but it doesn’t need Legilimency when you find him slamming his photo album shut with rage. James really wasn’t charming, was he?”
“He could be, if he wanted.”, Snape shrugged. “Well, if he wanted. After all, he fancied Lily. But there was one thing he wouldn’t understand. The best way to explain is probably when I tell you about the ball.”
“The ball?”
“Professor Altena was a passionate dancer and organised a ball before she resigned, also as a little relief after the exams, I think. Lily was enjoying herself like never before. James sensed triumph. At last, he had achieved something none of us would have guessed. Well, it was partly my fault as well, but he had made me so angry I had lost myself.”
“You had called her a Mudblood, hadn’t you?”
“If there was this one thing he couldn’t get, then how it could only hurt her for a moment and then she could care less than everyone else who had heard it, including Albus who had happened to had walked by the moment the word had slipped over my lips. He had a second eye on me ever since. Studied me more than Slughorn did. When he as well noticed that it hadn’t changed a thing between Lily and me, he got curious. It was – well – a little annoying, I have to admit. I believe, I expressly enjoined him to desist from it. Anyhow, by that time James had already tried to get Lily for himself. Of course Lily was as much a totally innocent angel as I was. She played the reluctant bitch and went out with James, just to test whether I got as jealous he could get or rather let her do, more caring for her happiness than my own.”
“Did she come back to you?”, he gave a silent nod.
“As kind as she was, she could be a pest too, if necessary. Kissed James in public, but when I came around, she immediately jumped after me and acted as if nothing had happened between them. That infuriated James to the bitter end. We had some rather tough duels on that, almost wherever possible. Her only intervention was to deflect both our spells from between us in every direction. If it hadn’t been for Dumbledore finding it rather entertaining to watch, we three would have been expelled right away. It was quite a fun time, to be honest. Unfortunately it ended with NEWTs. Then something must have happened when I’d been away.”
“Away? Oh – Germany and – Ukraine?”, she remembered. “And Professor Karkaroff – ”
“Exactly. The situation had gotten tense and my mother planned to leave the country right after I graduated. I went with her to a place in northern Germany she had spent some years of her childhood at. But things weren’t – rosy – either.”, he breathed in mournfully, close to tears again.
“I know.”, Hermione said once more, feeling her own fingers clinging tighter to his handkerchief.
“Of course you do. I still wonder how you got that out of him, but – ”
“I just asked him.”, she saw that he wasn’t fully convinced. “Okay – I told him that you saved my life. Then he babbled away.”, Hermione grunted. “Something you seem to have in common.”
“Probably.”, he sighed. “So you see, I wasn’t alone. I had found a friend at last, a little different from those supposed friends I had been hanging around with at Hogwarts, apart from three of course. Those who Lily had warned me of; that they might just be foolish enough to join the Dark Lord’s army of lost souls. I found a real friend next to her, or Reg – and Charity – she was too young yet to understand every bit.”
“Tz.”
“I know, you don’t like that opinion of mine, but I don’t believe it to be wise to speak openly about real love and jealousy and brutal murder with a twelve-year-old.”
“There are exceptions.”
“There are. And I am one of them, I believe, if I think back on my childhood. But exceptions are exceptions. Keep that in mind. Well, after my mother’s death, Igor and I moved to the south of Ukraine, at the Sea of Azov. It was a rather wonderful time, despite all. He managed to distract me. We spent those months in the wilderness hunting, fishing, but also working in the closest town – talking – a lot, in fact – and exchanging languages, like before.”
“So it’s true. What was it like for you, by the way? Working at a florist’s? Professor Burbage meant that you still miss – even though – ”, it just flowed out of her before she could stop it. “Sorry, Sir.”
“Why don’t you call me Severus already.”
For the first time after what seemed to have been hours, he finally looked at her, with a smile she had actually already seen once on him, but not so distinctively. It was gentle and warm. Not big, but honest. Hermione gazed at him as though hit by a Stunning Spell however.
“Now don’t look at me like that,”, he murmured. “We had this going on for two years now. Don’t you think it might be a little easier to discuss things if we dropped that distance we both know to have vanished long ago?”
“Finally?”, it escaped her, leading to immediate embarrassment and her hand clapping onto her mouth so quickly that the insides of her lips still hurt when she lowered her arm. “Um – alright – Severus.”, she returned the smile, yet hesitantly and with a little blush she felt against the cold of the night.
“Though, only when we are alone; I hope you understand.”
“Of course, Sir – um – Severus, I mean.”, Hermione used his returned thoughtfulness for a second of pondering herself. “You said, Lily was afraid that you might hang around too much with people who were liable to join Voldemort – but Professor Karkaroff – he became a Death Eater!”
“That would be true, if one would not look beneath the icy surface.”
“Like – like you – ”, she aspirated.
“Ever in for a deflating surprise, people are. You condole over a demise that could be avoided so far and months later you demonise the same man for an opinion you built yourself about him, based on information a person like you should have acknowledged to be as false as the other.
“Er – ”
“Owning a broom doesn’t make you a Quidditch player, now does it? You see, though we lived in the middle of nowhere, we weren’t cut off. Naturally, we knew what was going on in Britain. So Igor came up with an idea. Everyone who fought him openly, ended up dead. Those who did it secretly, would quite likely as well. But what if he would never get to know his real enemies? The plan was as ridiculous and mad as can be, but that was what made it brilliant, eventually. So since we both were over the standard at Occlumency at our young age; and therefore of course totally full of ourselves and most naïve; we believed we would be a match for him in terms of mind intruding and controlling powers. We left for England to join him.”
Hermione was struck. Everything she had hoped for – everything she had wished to be the truth – had really not been just her imagination? But what mostly shocked her was an inexplainable sensation of that confirmation – she had wished for it and now that she had said proof, it was as though an anvil had crushed her. Nevertheless it all made more sense now. Everything made sense. No, almost everything. Therefore she decided to continue listening before she would drift off into wondering about too many things too early again.
“Of course we were prepared. We planned it a long time beforehand. We knew what he might ask of us. But I wanted to bring him down so desperately, I found myself careless. I was driven by something the very person who did and still does care for me as if I were something like his son, experienced himself. I – was ready to do everything for my notion. Even ready to kill, just for – a greater good.”, he swallowed hard.
His words from the past came back to her mind. Go, before I forget that I had principles on whom to kill and whom to spare..jus’ imagine.. So he had actually meant those words. All the jokes about killing. Those conversations with Charity Burbage. The words he had said to Umbridge. He was not only capable of performing a very strong Cruciatus Curse, he was able to kill. Not only mice, humans too. He was a murderer. And the way he talked about it – as casually as if he recalled what the weather had been like some years ago – alarmed her a bit. After all it was real murder he had committed and now confessed once and for all. Did he honestly expect she could take that – easy?
“Though mind that I would have never gone as far as to kill anyone who was dear to me. And regarding the others – I did in fact decide. I didn’t kill young parents or children. I didn’t kill people who weren’t fully ready to kill on their own either. Naturally, the Dark Lord noticed. I mean, how couldn’t he? He got curious. Asked me why I showed mercy.”
“How did he take your answer?”, she spoke right away without knowing what his answer actually was, trying to ignore the knot in her throat that grew with every time he said the word `kill´, while it had normally left her cold.
“Quite to my surprise, with understanding. I told him that I never regretted being my mother’s son. I told him the same I just told you – probably an urge to make him feel something like care, I don’t know. So I told him bits about my childhood; that, like his, my father had – abandoned me – only – only I spared everything concerning Lily or James, of course. Lastly, I didn’t want to bring them in danger. So I told him how my mother decided to leave the country for my safety – that she – tried to save me – in the moment she was dying – ”
“He – understood it?”
“Interesting, isn’t it? After all he had done, after all that hate grown inside him, beside all his narcissism, he seemed to have cared for his guileful mother at last, who had died when giving birth to him; that she hadn’t given up on him, but given her life for his. And we both had been left alone by our Muggle fathers. Even though the specifics couldn’t be more differing.”
“You think – ”
“Yes, he has some kind of a weak point. Faintly, but there. And that is all Igor and I had hoped for. As cruel as it may sound, we knew then he was still human enough that he might make a mistake one day. What this mistake was – we have an idea; Albus and I, I mean. We just haven’t got the detail – confirmed completely yet.”, he took a longer pause on that, staring at the bricks in front of him. “Well, I gained the Dark Lord’s trust, more than anybody else. Unfortunately Igor managed to get himself caught by Aurors one day. Azkaban nearly drove him insane. More than he already was.”, he noticed with a chuckle. “Later, after the Lord’s fall, he even told the Ministry that I was running around with the Dark Mark on my arm, just for the chance to get out. To his bad, I had been faster to realise I couldn’t do it all alone. But you know that much as well.”, Hermione nodded.
“And you indeed forgave him?”
“Why not? I mean, I don’t know whether he has fully figured it yet, but he has actually saved my neck.”
“Er – ”, she had wondered about that before.
“Telling a room half filled with Death Eaters what a devoted follower I am, with only Albus’ word against him, he couldn’t have done any better. We both were off the hook. I had Albus on my side, and the Lord, since those Death Eaters couldn’t put any value in – old Dumbledore’s blabbering, when a backstabber was standing opposite to him. Igor was a free man to the Ministry for turning in Barty. And since he went straight back to Durmstrang, he was safe from any grudge.”
“Sounds – logical – um – I think, we drifted off a little.”
“Only on. But you can guess, after we joined the Devil’s party, I first went to Lily – finding her in Godrics Hollow. A – a ring on her finger. She had just married James.”, he curled his lips. “Now this is very important, Hermione. Harry mustn’t know. By no means!”
“I promise, I won’t tell.”
“Of course I had to show her the brand and – she was shocked, naturally. She was in tears like never before, not understanding the world anymore. First I appeared again after she had thought me dead for more than a year and then I was supposed to be loyal to the one I swore to her I would never join? But she decided to listen. I told her everything. So did she – and I understood that the ring – it was – nothing but a ring. It had meant the world to her, but in fact, she would have rather preferred to see its twin on another person’s finger than James’, yet it wasn’t. Yes, she did love James, but not – in the same – way – ”
“As she loved you.”, finally it was spoken. “You – had an affair?”
“Expectably, not?”, he chuckled limply. “However, she tried to convince me to go to Albus. I constantly refused. I didn’t know what to tell him. After those things I had done, I was too childishly shy to face the one man who somehow cared for my welfare as much as Lily did. Then something happened neither Lily nor, especially, James ever expected after he had been told that he was impotent.”
“Er – impotent? But he – no – that – can’t be – he – like his father – that – ”, Hermione stammered, unable to hold herself from saying something, but not fully finding words either. “So that’s why – he really – oh my god – no – ”
“It was our little secret. Even more, after I had overheard parts of Sybill’s prophecy.”, he swallowed and sniffed, “Not even Albus knows. Not that James was my brother – and – above all – that – ”
Sixteen years he had kept it locked up, not mentioned it in front of anyone but Lily or Eli. Sixteen years of restraint. Now, the moment felt right. That he could say it. That there was no need to hold it back. He had gone too far. She knew and she had been aware of it for too long anyway, even though she refused to admit it to herself.
“Harry – is my son.”
Those words flowed out of him with a relieved breath, followed by a smirk. Hermione felt horrible. Guilty. Ashamed. How could she believe it was impossible to bear what Ron was doing? How could he have made her forget all she had seen?
“Why – ”, was the only moan she could get out now.
“Because he had decided so.”, with every word, his voice started shaking more and more. “By the moment Voldemort decided for seeing Harry as the one, instead of Neville Longbottom, who would have fit into the prophecy as perfectly as Harry did – by that moment – we both knew what to do. You might not understand – it is still hard for me to accept, but I got myself into it.”
Neville – Hermione thought. Even though Harry had told them about that twist, now she knew why Neville had to suffer in Potions. Though she found it rather unfair to taunt Neville for having been spared. That couldn’t even be outpaced by the fascination of having him heard saying the name, rather than referring to the monster as the Dark Lord – or these utterly incredible confessions –
“It was me who had told him about the prophecy.”, he buried his face in his hands, leaning onto his thighs. “I – I killed them – ”, she heard him sobbing, which brought her back from her thoughts.
“No.”, hesitantly, she put her hand on his left shoulder. “It was him.”
“But I – have g-given him – the reason to!”
“You couldn’t have known how he would interpret it.”, Hermione said calmingly. “It’s not your fault.”
“It was my fault. I broke my own rule. I broke my rule to keep him from killing children. And – that is what I got now – having to live with the result of my – idiocy – ”
“They are both still alive, Harry and Neville. Listen – you know what happened to Neville’s parents, don’t you?”, he nodded, face still covered. “Sure. So, what kind of life is this, you think? They don’t recognise their own child! All Neville has left are empty corpses. Harry lives, aware that his parents sacrificed themselves for him. Okay, so does Neville. As much as it hurts him, it makes him proud to feed his living dead parents. But still Harry’s fate is a more pleasant one, I think. He doesn’t have to look at the wrecks that once gave him his life. By their death, by their sacrifice, Harry has grown faith in the power of a loving heart and soul. He has grown powers that make him quite a match to – ”, her throat had become dry and she swallowed, “Voldemort, quite able to finish what hundreds of people died for. And he has you. He still has family. Even, if we don’t count the Dursleys as such. Tell him. Tell him who you are.”
“Bu’ tha’s tha poin’!”, he cried out; though not yelling; and raised his head, presenting Hermione distorted features shattered with grief, despair and fresh tears. “Ye’re righ’! ’E knows tha’ ’is paren’s died fer ’im. ’T’s wha’ makes ’im stron’! If ’e knew ’e’s go’ family lef’ – ’e’d feel – safer!”
“But wouldn’t that be g– ”
“No. Feelin’ safe makes ’im careless. It makes ’im clumsy. Believe me, I know. That is one o’ the things that always differed James an’ meself.”, with the loss of strain, his pronunciation became again what she was used to. “While he was growin’ up in safety, a little more wouldn’t distract ’im. I however, was never used to be safe. Nor was Harry. As much as safety makes me too curious about the reasons why and therefore distracts me from continuing to protect myself, the same it does distract him. When I told Lily about the prophecy and the possibilities, she knew that we had to keep it secret. Yes, we were playing with the idea of actually telling James, but the prophecy changed everything in the end. Lily knew that it was on them to protect Harry. And then she was pr– ”, he turned to the window and took another of those deep breaths, “Ready to die.”, curling his lips bitterly, he swallowed down something that looked more like anger than sadness, resting his mouth and nose in his hands for a moment, then placing his chin on his now crossed fingers. “She believed in the power of love. As you see, she was right. By throwing herself in between, by refusing to step aside, she repelled his spell and it backfired.”
“I know. But why didn’t he fully die then?”
“That is what Albus and I had been riddling about for years, but didn’t get full proof until a couple of months ago. Though, I knew. I knew from the first moment on what it could be – but didn’t want to believe. I already knew when Lily made me swear that I’d protect Harry out of the shadows when she was gone. She made me swear that I kept up the lie to save him – to give the Lord one less reason, give Harry one less wound point. After seeing how Sirius’ death had crushed Harry, I finally understood how crucial it is that he mustn’t find out until this war is over. Like his parents, Harry is the type of person who would rather sacrifice himself than someone he feels for. The less people he truly loves, the more he can concentrate on his actual task.”
“That’s just – a barbaric way of think– ”
“That is war, Hermione!”, he whispered, cutting off her moan, his eyes on her and his hands on his thighs again. “Sometimes you have to know your enemy’s way of thinking and modify it to your own best in order to succeed. If you truly love, you will have to abandon. An abandoned animal can become the strongest and most dangerous monster. Just – look at what this made with – ”, he tried, but couldn’t speak further.
“So – you’ve done nothing else than – preparing him to kill – ”, she aspirated.
“In fact, he has he has inherited quite a lot from his mother. Harry, could never kill.”
“He was close to – do Sirius – ”
“But he didn’t. Do you think, I would have killed anyone with my mother not having died the way she did? You think, I would have been able to cut anyone’s thread of life if she had fallen in war rather? Because I don’t.”
“So you say – ”
“It feels very different to lose a person being murdered by another. You just cannot continue being a monster similar to the one who erased the person you loved more than anything else from the world. I told Lily about the prophecy, and months later, she finally managed to make me go to Albus and confess. Though I didn’t tell him about the plan Igor and I had built up. I only explained that I regretted most what I had done. What that would be, I left up to him. He promised me to save them. But, wise as he was, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t just empty words.”
“No.”, Hermione shook her head, getting the clue. “No.”
“He was the one who extradited me to the Ministry.”
“No! That’s not – no!”
“Keep your voice down, Hermione. I am not worth that much of attention.”
“You are.”
His face was on her immediately. Appalled by her own words, she again clapped her hand on her mouth, probably in hope to lock more of such in, as he breathed in even deeper, close to tears again and gave her a rather miserable smirk.
“Sorry.”
“Keep your apologies to a minimum, if you please.”
“So- I mean, I will try to.”, she grinned embarrassed, lowering her hand. “But you said, he cared for you like a father – ”
“I disappointed him. He had faith in me, but I became what he never expected me to with Lily behind me.”
“But why didn’t you tell him about the plan then?”
“The less know, the better.”
“Yes, only that he is an exceptionally powerful Occlumens, while you know I am still far from that.”, she noted, but was ignored.
“I accepted the trial. It fitted perfectly in the plan. Everyone would have told them regret under those circumstances. The Lord would understand, if he should return – and he did. He forgave me for that.”, Hermione eyed him a little sceptical, remembering his ignorance when she had ran after him in the front yard back then, but didn’t say anything. “And Albus, witnessing the hearing, realised what he had done.”, his tone became more determined, even a little manic. “He had thrown me into the lion’s den, thinking he would punish me for what he thought I had made of myself, but in fact he punished himself. I bore it, for having handed my own family to Voldemort on a silver platter, and for educating Albus. He had to watch what he was capable of doing to those he cared for. The lesson he hadn’t learned in the past, had to sink in for once. And it did, at least to some extent. Every time I turn my back on him and he remembers, I can downright hear his shame thundering in all directions.”
“What did he do in the past that you were willing to accept such torture?”, moaned Hermione.
“You’d better ask him yourself. Though don’t expect the kind old man you know him as. Be prepared for being kicked out of the room, literally.”
“That doesn’t sound good,”
“Oh, not at all.”, snarled Severus. “You should have seen him. I wouldn’t have believed it until then, but he is able to cry. He cried so much, I’d never seen him ever again. Unfortunately enough days passed until that sneak of a repulsive, wormy toad showed his true side. My bad that I suspected the wrong man immediately – and for years, just like everyone else did. Pettigrew was ever the little, pitiful rat – not even I had expected him to be such a fantastic Occlumens. Not even I knew that he was a Death Eater and I was closest to the Dark Lord. He must have venerated him for a long time and joined him just soon enough to spread the news about Lily’s and James’ whereabouts.”
“I still don’t get that either.”, she faintly shook her head.
“A nice example what jealousy and fear can cause. After all, Lily had ensured me that Sirius was their secret keeper, but it seems James found out I knew and feared the Lord would discover it. So he entrusted little magpie Peter with the position. Maybe Sirius even encouraged him. Of course the change had made it impossible for me to discover their house though I knew where it was. Just a little additional triumph for James, regardless of the fact that he had almost come to better terms with me. Unfortunately, his last. Therefore I couldn’t reach them in time.”, he sighed worse than ever and looked out into the night. “If I’d only stayed – I – I could’ve – only minutes – ”
“Stayed? Stayed where – ”
“I had come to visit Harry. You know, Hallowe’en, family traditions – but – but as I said, the house was gone for me. So I went straight to Sirius. But I couldn’t find him. My tracking skills weren’t as good as today. He must have been transformed at that time. Yet I felt that something was not right. I – I went back to – to – I only – I – came – too – ”
“And Dumbledore?”, Hermione couldn’t listen to that horrified tremor in his voice. “Did he know what was going on? I mean, he promised to protect them – ”
“He did protect something, in his very own way. As I said, enough time went by. He believed in Lily’s considerations, rather than my concern. He sat there – and watched. He just watched it all happen and Lily’s theory turn out to have been right. He let them die f– “, he broke off.
“For a greater good.”, new tears stood in Hermione’s eyes as well.
“Yes, again. Never learning, dear Albus.”, he mumbled, but continued more clear. “He realised that Voldemort wasn’t finished. He felt it, like all of us did. He knew that Voldemort wouldn’t rest until Harry was dead at last. Albus decided in the same night to place Harry in the care of his remaining aunt and uncle – just for the benefit of the promise Lily had made me make. So Harry grew up exactly where he belonged to. He wasn’t fed like James. He wasn’t spoilt like James. He learned to be alone, like I had. He learned to take care of himself. And when he entered Hogwarts – when he made the Sorting Hat throw him into Gryffindor, I knew he would become even more stubborn than his father. Like Slughorn had discovered back then, Lily’s determination was dangerous. My determination was dangerous. And `both together would make the most lethal and fragile bomb imaginable´. Believe me when I say that, if Volcano Harry actually erupts, you wish you were sitting somewhere near the core of our planet, watching the masses of lava down there still flowing peacefully.”, there was a pause.
“I know.”, Hermione chuckled with a moan, looking slightly up to him. “When he really is angry, you wished you had a Bludger to knock him out for a couple of days.”
Just slowly, Severus began to laugh, quiet. When he dropped his head back with a broad smile, Hermione couldn’t help but join in. However, his smile didn’t last long then. Nevertheless this moment would be one of those they both would remember forever.
“Enjoy your time here as long as you can.”, he faced her, serious again. “You don’t have much left.”
“Um – what do you mean?”, she was slightly confused and her smile faded as well.
“When Albus is gone, this place will change.”
“Gone? Why should he – ”
“I assume, you have noticed his hand?”, Hermione nodded. “As he tried to discover Voldemort’s secret, he came across an object. Rather small – easy to be overseen – but powerful. More powerful than even he had expected. As it occurred, he tried to destroy it.”
“Did he manage to?”
“Partly, I think. At least he seemed to have succeeded destroying the part of it he had wanted to break. Only the other part – cannot be fully destroyed. Maybe it could be, by the rightful owner, but since it wasn’t him, Albus couldn’t – and knowing what it was, I think he was – tempted again. Even worse, he caught himself a most terrible curse, from both the ring and the stone set into it. I could ban the curse to the hand for a while and give him something against the pain, but we both knew it would spread. It is one of those unruly curses getting stronger with time. I do my best to give him more of that precious phenomenon, but I fear I am at a point where I am unable to. It has reached his elbow.”
“What happens when – ”, Hermione started, though knowing the answer already.
“When the curse reaches his heart, he will be dead. This mustn’t happen. I have to kill him first.”
“Kill him?”, she shrieked.
“Sh!”
“Sorry.”, she blushed and pricked up her ears nervously. “Kill him?”, she whispered.
“The ring once belonged to Voldemort’s mother and therefore, belongs to him. Even if the stone might not, it is the part of the curse coming from the ring which is to bother us. When the curse kills Albus, it will have the same effect as if Voldemort killed him. And that – mustn’t happen.”
“Explain.”, Hermione demanded, much to her own surprise.
“Albus possesses something very powerful that has ever been handed on by defeating the owner. A very powerful weapon.”, she suddenly remembered how people used to believe Dumbledore had a weapon he could overthrow the Ministry with.
“What would that be?”
“The Elder Wand.”, no reaction, just curiosity. “Second – ”, he narrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t know about the Elder Wand? The Deathly Hallows? No?”
“No?”, she smirked honestly and suddenly painfully embarrassed, having to hear him making it even worse.
“And I thought you were the cleverest girl currently attending Hogwarts.”
“Hey!”, she hissed. “I’m not that much of a library!”
“Well, then I suppose I will have to tell you – the – ah – most philosophical fairytale taught to children born magical. It’s called The Tale of the Three Brothers. Mother read it often enough to me that I know every word by heart. But, since our little chat here isn’t supposed to happen, I must insist you act as if you don’t know the story yet, whenever you come to hear something connected to it.”, she nodded, although she thought it to be ridiculous, since, if it really was such a common story, she could have read it, couldn’t she? “You are aware that this means, you have to be very cautious about details? Not only now, but probably for the rest of your life?”, another nod. “All right.”, he sighed.
Hermione literally sought in every word of the story, careful not to miss a single one. A story, almost the entire wizarding world believed to be nothing but a legend, told to teach children morals. That killing was not alright. That no one could fully return from the dead. That death wasn’t horrible when having lived a life full of love. That death – could be greeted like an old friend, by a anyone who was ready to face it. That death was nothing to fear, but rather a part of life. One thing however, made her curious. Could – Death – be an actual being? Or had the creator of the objects more likely been a very powerful wizard, testing the brothers? Or had even the brothers themselves created these objects? After all the second brother knew how to use the stone..
“So Professor Dumbledore believes that they exist?”
“He knows that they exist. So do I. Or so he does, because of me and James.”
“But that would mean that he actually killed someone?”
“It seems so, doesn’t it? But it must have been a person of little value in history. The only one ever known to battle him integrally, was Gellert Grindelwald. And he, known fact, sits locked up in his own prison – if he is still alive after all these years. Though Albus never told me whether Grindelwald had possessed the wand at last, having been said to have searched for it for many years. Yet the wand is one reason why I have to kill Albus. Nobody else would dare to, even when being aware of the facts. We both know from experience, that people on our side would never kill Albus. Second, Voldemort wants him away, whether he knows he possesses the wand or not. Horrible enough, he entrusted Draco Malfoy with the murder, as punishment for his father.”
“But how could Malfoy possibly do that? Even if he knew that Dumbledore – has to – has to die?”
“He can’t. Draco isn’t a killer. Everyone knows that. But I swore to protect Draco. I swore to continue his task if he should fail. They made me, Narcissa and Bellatrix. If I don’t, I will die as well.”
“They swore they’d kill you?”
“Not they will. I could avoid that. But the vow will. The Unbreakable Vow. I hope you know about that one.”, Hermione didn’t nod, but he obviously saw in her face that she was familiar with the term. “I have many reasons to kill the person who has become much like a father to me. And I am not talking about revenge for his lousy attempts so save what’s left of my family. To spare him a horrible death, to prevent Draco from murder, to not make Voldemort the rightful owner of the Elder Wand, to gain his biggest trust – ”
“But what if he does find out that Dumbledore has the wand?”
“This must be kept secret as long as it takes Harry to become more powerful than that wand – with any other wand. After all, Albus proved such is possible. Ask those who know what he was capable of when he was nothing more than a student at Hogwarts.”
“Yes. I heard Professor Marchbanks talk about it last year.”
“She would exactly be one to know perfectly well. But you must know, a wand in its basics, is none other than a piece of wood filled with a magical creature’s token, concentrating the power of a mind to a bound beam. If the mind is weak, the wand is useless. Even Muggles can do magic with a wand, if they believe in themselves and their own willpower. It might of course never be as great as the energy unleashed by people with the gene that strengthens that specific ability, but it is possible.”
“But – if it happens – and if he finds out – you – you mustn’t die!”, she moaned, tears trickling from her eyes.
“Charming, how much you have grown to care for me since I saved your life.”, he gave her a little smile. “But you have to understand, like Lily or Albus, I am prepared. Like Lily, I was always ready to die for our son. If not then, I am now. I already gave him my cloak years ago.”
“Your cloak?”
“Mother gave the Potters only one more thing. She said that if she couldn’t take care of the boy’s safety, at least this would do. She made them promise not to hand it to him until he attended Hogwarts. That is what she told me before I got on the train. Of course I was curious to find out. When seeing mischievous James disappearing beneath a cloak so properly working, I knew the tale was true. Everyone knows people tried to create such cloaks but no one ever managed to get one to fully work. This particular one did – and did it alike after years – and it was passed on from mother to son. Naturally, Albus one day figured out and being him, he confiscated it. I thought he would return it when he was entirely sure, though when I – could finally enter the destroyed house – and found – James – on the floor – I knew that – ”, he gasped for breath, “If they had had it, they might have nevertheless still – ”, his lips crumpled.
“You don’t need to continue.”
“He – could have – given it back – but – “, Severus started sobbing again, this time with anger. “Never understood – so obsessed – ”, he added quiet.
“But he gave it to Harry then. He gave it to the only descendant – ”
“I gave it to Harry. He didn’t care for tradition, or rather, laws at all in this case. Wanted to wait. Said that Harry was too young. But I knew that Harry would need the cloak, very much.”
“And he did.”
“Yes. More than any other child in the row. After that incident with the Troll, I was aware that he was in terrible need of such an object and since it was, as you just said as well, rightfully his, I simply couldn’t let it where it was, could I?”
“You stole it from him?”
“By that time I had already learned to become invisible on my own. All I needed to do was entering through a window when he was not in his private rooms and find it. I reckon, by James’ death, it must have passed on to his closest, namely me. As if the cloak knew who I was, I could easily summon it. None than the owner can do that. When I touched the cloak, I felt that it was really mine – it was as if the cloak told me I did the right thing – ”
“And the letter?”
“Faking his handwriting was the easiest part, believe me.”, Severus chuckled. “But of course he found out when he saw Harry sneaking to the room the Mirror of Erised was stored in. Fortunately he didn’t blame me, realising that I might indirectly save Harry’s life another couple of times this way.”
“You did.”
“I know. And it was the best I could hope for.”
Another long silence fell over the area they sat in, making Hermione understand that he was done, and she just couldn’t be so selfish as to press any more information out of him. Nevertheless, one thing bugged her too much.
“I can’t believe this. I mean, I do – but that’s life, I guess?”, she sighed. “Though – why me?”
“Because I know I can trust you. Of course I believe that Harry has the right to find out the full truth, but since he mustn’t until the Dark Lord is finally dead, there has to be someone trustworthy, knowing the truth, ready to wait until – the proper moment; capable of waiting until the war is over, just in case I don’t live long enough to be allowed to tell him personally. Time is limited, Hermione. Use it wisely. As for me, I will spend my remaining time helping my son fulfilling his unfortunate destiny. And you, you should spend your time with your friends, encouraging them to stick together whatever happens. At last, I had to learn very painfully, that great things can never be achieved by a single person alone. We humans aren’t designed to solve problems entirely on our own. Spend your time wisely.”
“I will.”, she nodded slowly; approving, but with a sad smirk.
“And for Heaven’s sake, concentrate on school again. You can’t let Harry beat you at Potion Making, can you?”, a little laugh escaped her.
“I feel guilty.”
“Why?”
“Grieving over Ron. After all he’s still – alive enough to be within reach.”, she hoped it wouldn’t hurt him much.
“Exactly. He is alive.”, he briefly took out a pocket watch. “Now get up before Filch catches us. We should be changing shifts in ten minutes.”, he pulled her up from the stairs, putting his arms around her and she knew what was going to happen. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Placing her hands on his collar bones, she was lifted. The cold air of the night felt good. It was like a shower after an exhausting day. She felt as if all the sorrow, all the sadness of the past hours, were washed away by the wind. Wondering whether it was the same to him, she noticed him taking a little detour around the towers until finally stopping in front of a dark window to the Gryffindor common room. He peered in to see whether it was actually empty, opened the window magically and floated in with her, gently landing next to the sofa at the big fireplace.
He already wanted to let go when her expression caught his attention. Wondering what made her lips curl, he raised an eyebrow. A moment later she hung around his neck, holding him tight. A warm smile on his lips, he closed his eyes and returned the gesture, leaning his head against hers. Glassy eyes stared out into the night, until they closed as well, with a sigh. Although he had broken the ice now, it felt much more surreal to her than previously. But maybe she was wrong. She might merely have made some scratches into the surface.
Not long after, but seeming like an eternity for them, they parted, whereby their cheeks met for the tenth of a second. Shortly placing his hand on her other cheek, he gave her a thankful smile and turned to leave.
“Um – S-Severus?”, she had noticed something.
“Yes?”, he stopped, his back on her.
“Your – your handkerchief – ”, she looked down at the crumpled-up white cloth, still in her left hand.
“Keep it.”
“You could wash it, you know?”, the grunting just slipped her.
“Still. Keep it.”
“But that – it – it would – ”, she stammered.
“What would it?”, he now half turned to Hermione.
“It would – make – our little chat – having happened – ”, she considered, eyes questioning.
“Would that be bad?”, a barely catchable smile and wink. “If you remembered – ”
“To speak to no one.”, she added, her expression becoming empty.
“Good night,”, he paused, “Miss Granger.”
“Goodnight.”, with a muted fluttering of his cloak, he flew out into the night. “Professor.”, she added, sure he wouldn’t hear her anymore.
Taking a deep breath herself, she stepped up to the window and closed it, careful not to do it too noisy. To another’s luck however, it was loud enough by her ears to muffle a door being closed upstairs.
~~#~~
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