They hadn’t spoken a word since. Every time he had visited for reporting news, he had made several attempts to gain her attention, but only received a repelling huff or snort, making each of the others wonder what had happened between them.
At about half past five in the morning, Hermione woke up to some strange noise at the window. She silently yawned, stretched, sat up and rubbed her eyes. In one glance she checked the time on the old alarm clock beside her bed and Ginny’s state. The other girl was still vast asleep, her widely open mouth directed to the ceiling, snoring very quiet. Hermione couldn’t help recognising the similarity to her youngest brother’s way of sleeping. Curling her lips, she looked at the window, where she found a fist knocking carefully at the glass in the dim morning twilight. It was a male fist and the owner obviously hung in mid air. Or was he hanging at the wall?
Eager to find out, she crawled out of her blanket and tiptoed over to Ginny’s desk on which she climbed. Pressing her nose against the closed window, she peeked out. He was sitting on a broom. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the man she had hoped for. Panting with frustration, she cautiously opened the window and hissed outside.
“What the heck are you doing here?”
“I was hoping for another private talk with you.”, whispered Remus.
“And that’s why you wake me at such a mad time, in such a mad way?”
“I know, it wasn’t the cleverest thing to do, but it’s important that we talk. Scrimgeour came by at Tonks’ parents last week.”
“What?”
With that, Hermione slid off the desk, searched for a pair of trainers, a coat, her wand as well as her pouch, put everything on as quick as she could and climbed onto the furniture again, the pouch around her shoulder being the only thing adequately in place. She then conjured a rope with knots, which she magically glued to the sill and climbed down on it. The rope gone and the window shut, she stared at Remus who had landed in front of her, a little confused.
“I could have flown you down,”
“I don’t like brooms much.”, Hermione snorted. “So? What did he want?”
“He was extraordinarily friendly, if I think about it. No word about Werewolves or such. Actually, he left me something.”
“And what?”
“Can we go to the barn?”, he pointed over to the distant hut. “Just in case, someone wakes up. I’m not sure whether Molly or Arthur feel when someone crosses the barrier.”
“Alright.
Dew soaked her pyjama pants as they walked through the grass. The sky on the horizon was slowly becoming a little more colourful and the clouds hanging in the north were glowing eerily, hit by the first rays of sunlight. Creaking a little, the old wooden door opened as Remus approached it and Hermione followed him into the dark space. He closed the door behind, lit his wand and leaned the broom against a dusty shelf that carried piled up broken telephones. He didn’t dare to open one of the shutters outside the closed windows of the big barn. Therefore, they sat down on crooked chairs, surrounded by dusty junk and – fust.
“Keep it short.”, said Hermione and Remus nodded approvingly.
“I will try to.”, he pulled something from his pocket that wasn’t unfamiliar to her eyes. “He came to me because of Dumbledore’s will.”
“Dumbledore left you something as well?”
“As well?”
“That’s why he came yesterday. Harry, Ron and I were mentioned in the will.”
“Interesting. What did you get?”
“That is our business.”
“Hermione,”
“Ron got his Deluminator, he left Harry the Snitch Harry caught in his first game and I – got an old copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard.”
“Why would he give you that?”
“You’re asking like Scrimgeour.”, she pouted. “It’s a book, I like books. What did he leave you?”
“Fine, then not. And well, he actually left me something that he meant for you as well. It seems, he expected the Ministry to examine the stuff. So, open it.”, he held the Mokeskin Pouch towards her.
“I can’t.”
“Oh, I am sure, you can. As I said, he meant it for both of us. I already gave it a go and I must say, I am surprised. That book you mentioned, is it written in runes?”
“How do you – ?”
“Just a guess.”, Remus smirked. “So, since I am finally through with them. And since that took me several hours, I’m not wishing to see any of that another time. Therefore you can have the whole – package. I believe, you love him a little more than I do.”
“What is – ”
Hermione had finally pulled the small flat bowl from the pouch. It lifted from her hand instantly and floated over her lap, the lid opening. It was a small Pensieve, just big enough for one person to use at a time. The second thing the pouch contained, was a wooden box which she opened carefully. It held a fair number of shiny crystal flask, each of them keeping one of Dumbledore’s memories safe. Immediately, she recognised the phial she had already held in hand: it was the memory through which she had gotten to know the specific book she could now call her own. She picked a different one. Severus Snape insulting Lily Evans after James Potter attack, the label read.
“Oh yes. A rather unpleasant one.”, sighed Remus. “I felt no need to watch that again.”, Hermione gave him an annoyed look from below and put it back, finding the piece of parchment stuck behind the back row of phials. “Exactly.”, he said as she took, unfolded and read it. “That is why I say, he meant it for you, rather than me.”
“`I must insist´ – well, if not even dying can keep you from your fixations, I think, I should give in, shouldn’t I?”, she muttered to the letter, stuck it back in and pulled a certain flask.
“What is this one?”, she held it up and turned it so Remus could read the label.
“Are you sure – you – ”, aspirated the man.
“Dumbledore wanted to force me to watch it. I refused, quite successfully, I can say.”
“It’s not too delightful, you must know.”
“Depends on the point of view, don’t you think?”
“Very well, but I have to warn you, Hermione. This might not be pleasant for you to watch, considering that you see him as such an angel. Shows somewhat what a polite guy he was.”
“I never saw him as an angel, merely as a person with a good heart that would sell his own grandmother for saving beloved ones.”
“Alright then.”
“Probably not his grandmother, but – ”, she added muttering, but it wasn’t heard.
“I haven’t been there at first place and neither James nor Peter ever talked about it. Strange, considering that if it hadn’t been for James and me, Peter wouldn’t have been there even. It was the only exam they kept quiet about. Speaking about the most important, it really worried me; still, many years after. Now I know why.”
Nevertheless Hermione placed the box on one of the barely free spots on a small dusty table to her right and poured the memory into the Pensieve. A last look at Remus and she dived her face in.
A heavy thunderstorm darkened the sky outside and all fires and candles were lit in the Great Hall. Hermione noticed after a few seconds that the candles had been moved up higher to give some extra space. The situation looked similar to the theoretical O.W.L. setting, only that the number of tables was reduced to three, lined up in front of the high Headmaster throne on the podium, in which Dumbledore sat lazily and stared straight through Hermione when she turned to look at the old man. There was another chair next to him, hosting a very young wizard with short brown hair that was topped by a contrite askew hat. The robe he wore was sewn together from differently coloured fabrics and was glittering all over, very much like the hat. He held his delicate wand up, creating rings of smoke while he talked to Dumbledore.
“Rather miserable, that Palvang girl, don’t you think, Professor?”
“Oh, I bet, it was merely her nervousness, Harold. And even though you are Minister, it is on the Examinations Authority to judge her achievement, not on you.”, Dumbledore noted.
“Alas, yes.”, sighed the young Minister and watched Altheria Coveridge stand up and walk to the backdoor with a list in hand. “Let us see, if the following will do better.”
“I believe, at least one might.”
“You know who is next? Ah what do I ask, of course you can name all of your students in alphabetical order, not only those who strangely made it to the top.”
“Don’t be so cynical – and for Heaven’s sake, put away your wand or you might find yourself disarmed.”
“Is this a threat?”
“I didn’t say that I will be the one to disarm you.”, Dumbledore still avoided his look.
“All right, then.”, huffed the Minister and slipped the stick into his own pocket.
“Mr Pettigrew to me,”, Coveridge called outside, “Mr Potter to Professor Tofty and Mr Snape to Professor Marchbanks, if you would, please.”
The unlike trio; though all wearing their complete uniform including the cloaks neatly; followed her, Wormtail scuffing ahead, clutching a knobby wand. He was horrible to look at, shrunken even smaller due to his anxiety, while James downright flounced into the hall, his wand in hand as well. Severus, after having closed the door behind, paced almost relaxed, though it looked way more elegant than James’ strutting. Pettigrew hurried past Dumbledore, making it look like he fled from him and sat down on the left table, visibly glad that Coveridge started talking to him immediately. James took the table in the middle, on which Tofty blocked his view on Dumbledore and the Minister. Severus was last to sit down, very straight like she had seen him do as a child, his hands in his lap.
“If you would please put your hands on the table, Mr Snape,”, Professor Marchbanks greeted softly and he followed her order, crossing his arms gently on the tabletop after having pulled his chair closer, so he could remain sitting straight. “Very well.”, Hermione saw James suppressing a smirk fifteen feet away and she walked closer towards Severus, so she could hear them better, as all examiners lowered their voices. “I first like to start this exam with a few questions. You see, answering them on a paper is very different from doing it verbally and can tell far less about the personality of the witch or wizard, which is, in my opinion, very important to discover their strengths, rather than their lacks and since this is your last and; regarding the topic of your Thesis; most important exam in your schooling, I can gladly lay my thoughts on you open.”
Severus had directed his dark eyes straight at the old woman, who still looked far younger than at Hermione’s O.W.L.s, but knowing that she had watched Dumbledore himself taking his exam, made that fact unimportant to her. Something however, made her smirk to herself: Severus seemed to have washed his hair specifically for the exam and she wondered if he had been teased for that by James before entering the hall. But even though his face looked thinner than it did nowadays, she could still find nothing of the ugliness he had described. And he had obviously already gotten rid of his acne.
“So, Mr Snape, the three of us have of course read all theoretical exams as well and discussed them, as much as we discussed the practical exams. I have to admit, we had a lot of work, dealing with you; the reason might be obvious to you, I assume. It doesn’t happen too often that a student takes nine N.E.W.T.s or even more, but more likely only load themselves with three, maximum four and having two students in one year that go further, is highly remarkable.”, Severus’ expression remained empty. “Very well, then. Can you tell me whether you had any difficulties in one of your N.E.W.T. exams?”
“I believe you said, Professor, that you were searching for my strengths, rather than my lacks.”, he answered very much like a machine Hermione thought, but it cost Marchbanks a quiet laugh.
“Indeed, that is what I said, Mr Snape. Howev-”
“No, Madam. After all, I had two years to prepare myself to graduate in the subjects I liked most. The hardest task was to drop two subjects as the three of you refused to hold exams for only two people.”
“Oh I am terribly sorry for that, dear.”, sighed the woman and scratched her temple.
“I am not your `dear´, Madam. Not at all.”
“However. Then, as I have it here,”, she tipped her wand at a folder beside her which opened, and pulled a sheet from it, “Your Head of House, Professor Slughorn; like with all others; has taken notes on the students’ career aspirations in your O.W.L. year. What bothers me is, that he left most spaces blank on your respective sheets. Can you explain me why he might have done this?”
“Because I did not answer to his expectations, I assume.”
“And what did you answer?”
“Basically, I highly believe, my message for him was that the course of time is far too complicated to predict, as to say two years before my graduation from this school, where life might lead me afterwards.”
“An interesting thought, I have to agree. But any ideas for an occupation? Now?”
“Whatever I might do, I would like to be a free man when doing it, making my own decisions.”
“In short, taking down the Ministry and forming our society to your will?”, she joked with a chuckle, but earned herself the first change in his look: to anger.
“That is, what would apply to another of Horace Slughorn’s former students. Other than Tom Riddle, I cannot find pleasure in being defined by how many photos of me stand on my teacher’s dusty shelf.”, Marchbanks smile froze. “If he only knew that Professor Slughorn meanwhile removed all photographs of his,”
“So you know the true identity – ”
“Professor Slughorn has revealed secrets of the Dark Lord’s younger self to me he cannot even remember having told me at any time.”, in the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Dumbledore straighten in his chair – he could obviously hear what was going on, even from the distance. “That is the unfortunate side of alcoholism and a reason why I never endorsed it, but I must admit, in some situations it can indeed come handy.”
“Ah then,”, Marchbanks swallowed heavily and put up a very artificial smile now, “A different topic, if you don’t mind, Mr Snape?”
“I leave the topics entirely to you, Professor, and merely answer your questions, which is, so I guess, your will as well, isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes.”, she sighed and pulled another paper. “So, you are in fact an extraordinary student. Best marks in all your subjects, eleven O.W.L.s, all with an Outstanding, and now having taken nine N.E.W.T.s, which are so far, I must say – blowing my mind! If we had higher marks – ”, she coughed to clear her throat, “You would indeed have at least half of the Ministry bowing to you, if you could succeed in this practical exam as well and – ”
“I assure you, Madam, I have no intentions to fail at it.”, Severus cut her, back blank after he had thrown her a faint smile.
“Oh yes, that would be very unlikely. Very unlikely for you, Mr Snape. Now, I have your theoretical exam here.”, she took several sheets from the bottom of the folder. “Your answer on how to resist the Imperius Curse, `Constant vigilance´ – ”, that cost her a rather limp chuckle. “I remember having read exactly the same answer on exactly that question many years ago. Could it be, that you had contact with a man called Alastor; or these days better known as `Mad-Eye´; Moody?”
“Yes, it happened that he had paid Hogwarts a visit last year and I overheard a very interesting chat he had had with Professor Dumbledore. Mr Moody is an extremely intelligent and able Auror, I can tell. A little obsessed, but in my eyes a great role model for both young and old witches and wizards out there who wish to live and independent, safe life, no matter how chilling the air might be around them.”
“Safe. Yes surely his life is absolutely safe. So you would see him as an inspiration?”, Marchbanks blinked
“Yes, I would.”
“Interesting, interesting. And your way to stand against the Cruciatus Curse would be,”, she searched for the question and pointed at it, “Ah yes, `Pressing one’s teeth together, thinking about the weather and trying to stand still with one’s eyes on the caster´?”
“Exceptionally efficient.”
“Have you been attacked with this curse?”, she threw another dull chuckle.
“What does my answer tell you, Madam?”, he countered ice cold and she shrunk a little.
“Would you – like to tell me – who – ”, she moaned but was cut again.
“I am not a sneak.”
“But this curse is illegal!”
“So is trying to use Legilimency on an examinee.”, Marchbanks swallowed. “Yes, I can feel that. But how does it feel to you?”
“Stunning, I have to confess. It doesn’t happen every day that I meet a seventeen year old who is so skilled at Occlumency.”
“Eighteen, which you should know if you had read all papers in this folder. And do not dare to lie; I saw the image of my birth certificate flick up behind your eyes.”
“Mr Snape!”, she shrieked, gaining the attention of all others in the hall.
“Vengeance is very sweet, Professor.”, sneered Severus. “Don’t try to shatter if you cannot take being shattered yourself.”
“Very well, I think we should drop that matter then.”, her voice was back to the quiet tone from before.
“Oh yes, we should.”, so remained his.
“I found your `solution against the curse with the incantation Avada Kedavra´ rather entertaining however. `Duck away if you can or try to be the first one to survive it´ – absolutely right, of course. Most others would have written that there is none, but you consider at least the possibility. Very wise. Have you met with this one already as well?”
“A mouse has.”
“A – mouse?”, Marchbanks blinked.
“Ah, it seems, your Ministry failed to inform you. Well, then please consult Professor Altena concerning further information. Though I wouldn’t expect an answer, she is too deeply in it – and I have no idea whether she is still alive even. After all she supported what the Dark Lord understands as, what was the phrase? `Reeking excrements in the shimmering hallway to wizards’ glory´ – ”
“I beg your pardon?”, the woman frowned.
“I am not the originator of this succession of words; but to return to our previous topic, the Ministry used to have a record on it until – ”, he reached into a pocket of his trousers, “Last night.”, he unfolded the red paper and placed it in front of her, flattening it with a malevolent smirk and a barely catchable flick of his right forefinger.
“I beg your pardon?”, she alternately stared at him and the paper. “This is – a real Ministry Record on the use of – oh my goodness!”, she scanned a very long list on it.
“Some strange voice in my head believed, you might ask for it, and since it is about a rather rare achievement of mine, I thought, I should just borrow it specifically for this exam. They can have it back when I’m done. I don’t need such a crap to remind me of the horrible smell in that cupboard.”
“Mr Snape – ”, she aspirated, gazing at him as though she had problems with seeing him clearly and Hermione could tell by a brief twitching that she had just resisted the urge to direct her alarmed look at Dumbledore as well.
“Now then, which other of my answers of this pathetically easy exam would you like to recite?”
“Ah yes, yes,”, she hasted, shoving the red paper into the folder, “You seem to be – believing, that a Patronus can remain even if the caster is angry. Your evidence?”
“I’d say, I just know.”
“You just know?”, her blinking became more frequent and her brows raised even higher.
“Yes. And I also believe to have written plenty enough about the matter in my Thesis. Next question.”
“No, no, no, not at all!”, Marchbanks sang, right when Tofty had gotten up with his examinee and walked further into the hall. “I would indeed like to hear your reasons!”
“And I would not like to tell you, Madam. You may read my Thesis, however.”
“That is a three hundred pages volume!”, she shrieked.
“Three hundred and ninety-four, as far as I am concerned; and I am very concerned about that, I think.”
“So you can conjure a full body Patronus?”
“Since I was thirteen.”
“Since you were thir– pardon? This is extremely high magic! And now you tell me, it is – ”
But her eyes were on James Potter who had shouted an incantation, resulting in a gleeful reaction of Professor Tofty as a stag purely from light galloped through the hall and stopped at their empty table, where it turned towards Severus, huffed and galloped back to him, coming to halt at his side.
“Amazing, Mr Potter, amazing!”, Tofty cheered and clapped. “Would you please – ”
“Now how is that to you, Snivellus?”, James cackled. “Beating your results? Have you ever managed to create mist even? Not so much striving to imitate Lily at this, aren’t you? Too difficult, eh?”
“I must ask for a little behaviour, Mr Potter!”, Marchbanks warned, standing up. “This is a governmental exam and accusations towards your colleagues are inappropriate at any rate!”
She waved at Severus, but noticed that he was on his feet as well, walking slowly around his chair and a couple of yards towards the two, though leaving still a huge space in between. Hermione followed him so she could see his expression. By the moment she arrived at his side, Severus swiftly pulled his black wand from his left sleeve, pointed it leisurely but calm at James and gave it a barely visible flick. James winced and the Patronus was gone. Blood trickled from his lower lip and he stared at Severus as if he was something extremely slimy with a disgusting reek. Hermione noticed that Pettigrew held his hand at his right shoulder, with a more miserable look than before. She recalled that he had been missing some hair there in his rat form. James chuckled.
“Tz. Not so impressive when she isn’t around, yeah.”
“I only didn’t mean to damage your oh so pretty face all too much. Not more than I already had two years ago. You should be grateful that I taught her the counter spell,”, Severus snarled and found himself having to block a nonverbal stunner.
“That is enough!”, bellowed Marchbanks though was ignored as they started a forceful, nonverbal duel.
Up on the podium, the Minister wanted to raise too, but he was pushed back into his seat by Dumbledore’s flat hand on his chest. Hermione decided to not pay attention as the Minister started protesting with hisses. The scene below was what she had come for.
Though of the speed, she was surprised how good she could identify the spells. Nevertheless she had problems with some because each of the jinxes and curses were blocked before they could hit their target. Tofty had backed away meanwhile and watched it with a mix of panic and awe.
The spells were visibly getting stronger and she could see James struggle with repelling. Severus however remained the same, not even moving his legs. Hermione realised that if she combined the way of their movement, she could clearly see Harry battling and if she hadn’t known the truth, she would have even considered James being his father a little. Incredible, she thought, how much twin brothers could differ and still be alike in the basics. Their expressions were exactly the same, also the way they held their wands, if one ignored the intensity of the flicks and waves.
A fountain of water splashed against Severus, being stopped by a sudden stream of fire that was so immense that it filled the area between them with steam for some seconds. The gigantic snake of bright flames let even the magic candles melt around it and wax rained down on the floor as it sped towards James, who only ducked down and covered his face with his arm in a pitiful attempt to save himself. But the snake transformed into a not less huge crow shortly before it reached him and wrapped its fiery wings around the teenager, covering him entirely. Then suddenly, the fire was gone.
The smell of the burnt wax hung in the air and the stone floor was black where the fire had moved over it, small dots of formerly white wax all over it. A lightning bolt shot across the enchanted ceiling, shining through the windows and the hall fell dark. The hot air became so ice cold at an instant that nearly everyone in the hall wrapped their arms around their bodies. Exceptions were Dumbledore who only marvelled at Severus, who had his wand still pointed at James – who peered over his arm, slowly realising that he was still alive. The rivulet of blood had already soaked his shirt’s collar where it had run down his chin, and was still trickling.
“Not killing me then, Snape?”, he shouted, back at his sense.
Severus face became distressed and a rush of bluish silver light that erupted from the tip of his wand became a beautiful doe, which landed gently before him. James’ anger was gone in seconds as he stood up and Hermione knew why. Seconds in which the doe pawed the stone floor, lowering her head as if she was ready to attack. Tofty stepped even further aside and gazed at the third corporeal Patronus he got to see that day, yet being the same as the first one. Hermione was sure he was trying hard on making himself believe it to be coincidence.
The expression of the doe resembled Severus’ grim face from before and he pulled back his wand, holding it to his chest with both hands. That moment the doe rushed off, towards James and straight through him, knocking him backwards to the floor. He gasped for air as his head hit the stones and Hermione knew that he had seen stars for a moment – felt an unpleasant sting on the back of her own head upon the streak of memory. While the doe paraded around him with her divine shine far from her expression, a single tear trickled down Severus’ right cheek, a tear that mirrored so many emotions that Hermione knew he could only bear it because he had let out most of his anger during the duel. Though the sadness in the young man’s eyes was hurting her terribly and he closed them as if he knew that she would watch it long time ahead in the future.
His lips trembled and he lowered his head, his eyebrows narrowing. Hermione wanted to go to him, lay her arms around him, but she remembered it would be senseless as it was only Dumbledore’s memory she was watching. And doing that even after leaving the Pensieve was far from possible as well. He was somewhere – a somewhere of which she didn’t even know where it was, out of reach for her, and even if it was Howarts, she wasn’t to enter.
The eighteen year old Severus dropped his right hand, his fingers still clutching his wand and the Patronus came back. She could hear Dumbledore sigh when the doe tried to lift Severus head by nudging under his chin. He even failed to cheer himself up with thoughts of Lily, but they were strong enough to keep the Patronus from dissolving. The doe did it more firmly, now against his cheek, and could move his head a little, but Severus gave his wand a flick, which finally made the creature collapse into glowing mist that vanished as he walked over to his brother on the floor.
Hermione wasn’t the only one who watched him with confusion, frozen in place even though the fire came back to the torches, chimney and remaining candles. He merely stood at James’ left, looking down on him. Then, surprising all, he put his wand into his left and offered him his right hand. The other frowned at the gesture. But instead of taking it, James heaved himself up on his own and gave Severus a look of bare loathing. He already turned to go when Severus stopped him with a quick move. He had shifted his wand again, so fast this time that Hermione hadn’t even seen it first.
“What – ”, grunted James, but was hushed by the tip of the black wand at his still bleeding bruise.
“Tha’d leave a no’ all too nice scar.”, Severus said calm and the wound healed. “I’d never fergive meself.”, he trailed the wand down the red track and it vanished as well.
“Tz. Suddenly you care?”, James snarled. “Suddenly?”
“I always cared. From tha beginnin’ on.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean, Snape?”
“Ye wouldn’ believe me.”
“Then make me believe!”
“I can’.”, his sadness was back and he sniffed once, curling his lips. “Maybe one day,”, he let go and stuck his wand into his sleeve, “Ye’ll understan’. I’m sure, we’ll mee’ again at sum’ poin’ in our future.”, Severus turned to the main door and sighed. “An’ I’ll never give up ’ope tha’ ye’ve finally gotten ter understan’ then.”
“What the – ”
But Severus didn’t deign him another look. He only turned to greyish white fog and rushed towards the gilded doors that opened by his will, which Hermione was sure of that if Dumbledore had not let him go, he wouldn’t have been able to. The moment he was gone, the scenery became black and she felt her head lift like the last time.
Rays of light forced their way through the shutters and made the dusty air glisten. The sun had risen while she had watched the memory. Remus had leaned back in his chair and hung a little askew. By his calm breath she could tell that he had fallen asleep. It cost her a little smile.
“Remus.”, she whispered, no reaction. “Remus!”
“Huh?”, he startled up, looking around and his tightly clutched wand held up instantly. “Oh.”, he relaxed a little and gazed at her, blinking several times. “And?”
“I don’t even know why he wanted me to watch that.”
“Not?”
“There wasn’t much in there that shocked me. Nothing I have no explanation for.”, Remus chuckled.
“Don’t tell me, you even know why he helped James afterwards?”
“Oh I know absolutely why.”
“Er – ”
“And you are one of the last ones I would tell.”, she said stiff, extracted the memory from the small Pensieve and dripped it back into the flask.
“Why?”
“Because you wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t believe.”
“Don’t recite him,”, Remus warned. “This leads you nowhere.”
“It led me quite far over the past years, if you care to know.”, the flask was were it belonged and the box as well as the Pensieve closed. “And if you excuse me now, I want at least one last hour of sleep before Mrs Weasley chimes us all out with her delightful trombone voice of a morning greet.”, she stowed the Pensieve and box in the Mokeskin Pouch which she slipped into her own purple bag, jumped to her feet and left him in the barn without saying goodbye even.
~~#~~