“So?”
“So?”
It was nothing more than a small round room with crème coloured wallpaper, two overstuffed old chairs in the middle, a little round table which was just big enough for carrying a crystal can of clear water and two goblets beside them, and a chandelier above. Both sat leant onto their thighs with their fingers crossed between their spread legs.
“You tell me. I can understand that you didn’t want to see anyone after what he did. But what are you actually?”
“Well, first, thanks for your try, and second, what do you think, I am?”
“No problem. I would’ve done that for anyone.”
“Makes me feel a lot better.”
“Sure. And I still don’t know what you are. Yes, Ginny and Luna said it, but it doesn’t convince me. You’ve discussed as if you were among – the circle.”
“That’s part of the game, isn’t it?”
“So you didn’t mean the congrats?”
“Not really; I pity him, to be honest. He’s got a lot of responsibility there. I mean, nothing he couldn’t cope with and I rather like to see him on the throne than Bellatrix. But you know, he’s risking his life for saving me from harm. The Unbreakable Vow is nothing to be joking about. That’s real danger. And believe me, I know what he feels when I’m in it.”
“Yeah. Because he feels what you do.”, Neville confirmed his knowledge.
“You see? I got to be grateful.”
“And that’s the point. You’re grateful for that,”, he counted on fingers, “You pity him, you grant him his position,”
“What’re you going at.”, Draco said cold.
“Just what it looks like to me. You might be `the born spy´, but I don’t trust you. Who tells me that you don’t go running to Snape, telling him everything about the DA and he walks straight to You-Know-Who with it?”
“I want Voldemort away as much as you do.”, Neville’s eyebrows sped up, but Draco’s expression remained the same when Neville straightened for a big gulp of water, not taking his eyes off him however.
“Right, you’re either totally crackbrained saying his name, faking terribly or actually on our side. Harry confirmed that you couldn’t do Dumbledore. Proves me that you’re at least a little human, though you really got a nerve, I must admit.”, he sighed deeply. “I’d say, innocent until proven guilty then.”
“Thanks.”, Draco sat up too.
“Well,”, Neville smirked, “I still have my doubts, but since you’ve become as much a victim as we have, welcome to Dumbledore’s Army.”, he offered his hand and Draco accepted it.
“You won’t regret it.”
“We’ll see.”, Neville gave him a last lazy look and they raised. “One thing – ”, he stopped Draco at the door, “Pansy Parkinson’s been your girlfriend, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, why?”
“She’s called Hannah a bitch after you left and said that Hannah knows why, but when I asked her about it, she said she’s got no idea. Though I don’t believe her.”
“Did she?”, Draco murmured. “They both, I mean?”
“Yeah. So you know what it’s about?”, Neville narrowed his brows as well, interpreting Draco’s look right.
“Seems, Pansy’s had some lessons in Legilimency. I don’t think she cracked me, but Hannah can’t shield her mind. I don’t care whether she’s jealous. Hannah clearly knows to cope with verbal assaults. But if Pansy lays a single finger on her, she’ll be the second owner of a nose that’s gotten familiar with a shoe of mine.”, what that did to Neville, wasn’t uncaught and he decided to draw a line. “Gotta go now. You might not be, but I’m hungry.”
“Whow!”, Neville woke up and grabbed him by the arm before Draco could get hold of the handle. “What was that? You’re – you’re not – a bit unlikely for a To-The-Bone-Slytherin to defend a Hufflepuff, isn’t it? So – so you’re really on our side?”
“Didn’t you hear the Sorting Hat?”, Draco spoke the phrase that had been going around ever since the first evening of term. “It doesn’t matter where we’re in. We’re going to the dogs if we have it that way, more than ever now. He wants us sorted, we disagree. Part of the game. And I’d be a total bugger if I didn’t defend my girlfriend. You excuse me,”
Probably without really wanting it, Neville let go and Draco took the chance to finally leave the Room of Requirement. As fast as he could, he hurried for the secret entrance to the shortcut behind the tapestry before Neville could get out of the room as well. When he literally walked straight into Ginevra and Luna, Draco had already reached the third floor, heading further for the Great Hall.
Quiet chatting drifted along the tables, everyone careful not to lose points for a single too loud word. Avoiding a look up at the staff table once he had seen what was going on there, he marched straight to the Slytherin table and sat down by the wall, opposite to Vincent and Gregory. In the middle of the staff table, two seats were empty and the woman next to the high chair refused to eat, seemingly trying to figure out who was more delicious to swallow than anything the Elves had made below.
The area of an entire chair was empty to her right, which was why Professor Babbling had to sit with her back turned to the students, at one end of the u-shaped long table. Professor McGonagall had simply relocated the whole arrangement for the sake of her own comfort, and perhaps even security, telling from her left neighbours expression.
Meanwhile Draco and his opposites had gained such neighbours as well. The Greengrass sisters had filled the space everyone had left free, the younger sitting herself so incredibly close to Draco that he slid half a seat to his still free right, though to his luck, unnoticed.
“Where have you been?”, Daphne asked and reached for a chicken wing.
“Partying.”, Draco grunted and his hand went for some noodles in the other direction.
“Honestly, Daphne.”, Astoria moaned. “You can’t ask him where he has been. That is a very tactless thing to do, considering that he has closely escaped being raped by our teacher in front his classmates. And you even were there.”
“And that now, was tactful of you, of course.”, Daphne pouted back.
“Just because you are older than me, it does not give you the right to talk to me like that – or him. Draco has got feelings, like any other, I am sure.”
“Any but you. I merely asked him where he was, but you have to explicitly point out that he has nearly been raped by a man.”
“Ladies,”, Draco huffed, “I am still here.”
“Sorry!”, the two gasped, appearing to actually have forgotten about it.
“So what is wrong with Pansy?”, Daphne started another critical conversation. “She seems to be rather upset.”, in fact, her eyes were directed straight past two heads, at Hannah; who only had worried eyes for Draco; and she made deep ruts into the table with her fork, gaining scared glances not only from the sisters.
“Looks like she’s practising a new way of agriculture.”, Draco chuckled and finally found some satisfaction: in eating – and he was rather glad that the people around him joined into his laugh. “Oh shit.”, Pansy had obviously heard and understood, as she had gotten up and now stomped directly towards Draco with the fork in hand, who hastily swallowed down his noodles.
“You!”, she hissed. “Mind your filth-licking tongue!”
“It’s just noodles, honestly. I’m sure, they’re absolutely clean.”
“Shut up or – ”
“Or what? Are you gonna to do it the Granger-Way? Totally wrong choice for that, I gotta say.”, he eyed her fork and picked a knife which he offered her, much to the amusement of their Housemates.
“Dare to give me that and you’re a dead man.”, Pansy gritted her teeth, but Astoria was on her feet with her wand drawn.
“Easy!”
“Yes? Anything to say, kiddie?”
“I’m only two years younger than you. That would make you as much a kid as you believe me to be.”
“Shut your trap, you freak!”
Everyone’s head just spun after the wand and fork that flew high through the hall, the fork landing in a roast on the Hufflepuff table, some students ducking away with squeals, but the wand was caught with unexpected ease, even unexpected by the as well standing person who had disarmed the girls non-verbally. For a second, Hannah just eyeballed Astoria’s wand with her own still pointed across the tables, but then her consciousness was back and she faced them with reborn anger.
“Twenty points from Slytherin!”, she shouted and the hall fell silent at last. “And both of you, detention! Tomorrow morning! Yes, on a Sunday!”
“You can’t do that, bitch!”, Pansy shrieked.
“And how I can do that, you nutter! I’m Head Girl! Sorry for the cuss,”, the last was more meant for the younger students, and definitely not at all for Pansy. “Speak to your Head of House for further details on the detention. And another ten points off for calling me a you-know-what.”, Hannah panted and sat down, exhausted as though she had run a marathon.
“Give me back my wand,”, Astoria snarled.
“You may request it back from Professor Slughorn later.”, Hannah said coldly and ate on, trying not to blush on the applause that broke out in the hall.
“SILENCE!”, it had been Alecto Carrow to jump up now, bright red. “EVERYONE! OR I – ”
But the threat remained unheard, even though the cheers cut off at once. Disgruntled, she sought for the source of the Silencing Charm, finding it in a highly pleased Minerva McGonagall. That one’s triumphant smile was gone instantly as a cry of pain left her. Though temporarily mute, Alecto had cast such a powerful Cruciatus Curse on her that she slid down to the floor between chair and table. But seconds later, that wand was the next to fly, towards the Ravenclaw table, where it was caught by Padma Patil. Raging soundless, Alecto’s mouth yelled at her.
When that wasn’t enough of the expression, she grabbed her plate including her lunch and threw it as far as she could, splattering food all over the podium and crashing into the head of the Gryffindor table. By that moment, students were already jamming at the gilded doors, everyone trying to be the first to reach the marble stairs outside. Madams Hooch and Sprout had helped their friend up and supported her over to the back door, where the rest of the staff formed a similar crowd, Hagrid having been wise enough to let them pass before he would block the door alone.
Within less than half a minute, the hall was nearly empty, and frustrated to the core, Alecto had lost track of Padma who had disappeared in the masses with her wand.
~~#~~
“Ouch.”, was all that Neville could say, having landed hard against something for the second time in two days.
“Are you – okay?”, Ginevra coughed.
“Yes.”, both others confirmed and sat up, Neville robbing his head. “We’re lucky, I s’ppose. That went a little better than what you did with Hermione.”
“Ha, ha. Why the hell did that creeper let us through when we can’t get back out?”
“Probably because people who possess some manners, normally knock for an answer before they consider breaking in. However, congratulations. You managed to destroy a high security glass.”
All three heads rushed up at him, Neville totally shocked. The girls did their best to play it, in case he would look at them. The red velvet had been changed to usual black cotton clothes, but his crossed arms and the malevolent sneer were foreboding.
“I am not as conceited as to be pleased by seeing people at my feet. Get up.”, hastily the trio jumped up, Neville staggering a little. “Well, well, well. So you decided to just sneak into my office and try to steal an ancient artefact while I was away.”, every hint of a smile of any kind was gone and his dark eyes travelled between the three. “Didn’t consider I could be in here when not attending lunch? At least you almost would have gotten that right. But that does not spare you from detention. And don’t dare to spit any useless excuses or reasons at me, I am not interested in hearing any of those. Detention, five o’clock, down at Hagrid’s.”
“Hagrid?”, Neville aspirated, spinning when he had pushed himself off a shelf and attempted to go for the door that had lastly opened, seemingly on its own.
“No lesson is a use if the punished end up in pieces of gleaming flesh on the wall. So yes, Hagrid. Call yourselves lucky. Especially since I hadn’t allowed you until now to just leave.”
He waited for them to be out. Again they winced, when he slammed the door shut. Luna and Ginevra still tried to look as startled as Neville.
“Okay, now I can understand Malfoy.”, Neville considered. “He must have some heart. Though in a slightly wrong place.”, he sighed. “Any idea why he wasn’t at lunch?”, the girls shook their heads, honestly. “Alright. And now?”
“Now?”, Luna asked.
“Well, the sword! We got to figure out another way! A great distraction! We have to make sure he’s really gone!”
“I’d say, we forget about that.”, Ginevra meant. “He’ll put up stronger spells for sure. We could as much `politely knock´, walk back in there and ask him to hand it over.”
“Ask – Hagrid – damn!”
“Yes?”
“Hey Luna, you think, they’d have a place for me in a boy’s dorm at your House?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s simple, isn’t it? Okay, probably not that simple; the window’s really high up, far more than Umbridge’s office,”
“No.”
“What’s that, Ginny?”
“No, I said. And I also said, we forget about it.”, Ginevra huffed. “No Niffler-Levitation. Even if we got one of them in, there’s tons of glittering stuff in there and I don’t think the sword just happens to lie openly on the desk then – and it’s really heavy, by the way. Know any Niffler able to throw the sword out of the window right at our feet and I’ll jilt Harry for you.”
“Sword? Jilting? What’s that about here?”, following a bluish light that turned red and flashed heavily when it stopped in the circle of three, Draco came in sight at the stairs, Hannah by the hand.
“Nothing.”, Neville sighed, clearly devastated that Ginevra had eradicated an idea he had thought to be brilliant. “Failed plan. Nothing too serious.”
“What a big lie, considering that you missed the greatest party ever for hanging out in front of the Headmaster office,”
“You are aware though that I can hear every word you say?”, the door had opened and he leaned lazily in the frame, looking from one to the other with his famous raised eyebrow. “What was that about the party?”, the second zoomed up when his eyes met with Draco’s.
“Nothing.”, that one gargled. “Really.”, glad that he only took a deep breath and disappeared back in the office, Draco sighed as well and waved the others downstairs and past the Gargoyle statue to the end of the short bent corridor, where he pushed a tapestry aside that hid an additional staircase which brought them directly to the Grand Tower.
“Party?”, Neville chuckled when he realised where they were.
“A little frightening, but great. Hannah and Padma definitely owned themselves a mention in the next edition of Hogwarts: A History.”
“But we’d have to – go slightly – more underground.”, they rushed around at the girl that came panting from downstairs, her twin at her side. “How did you – do that?”
“Did what?”, Draco asked Parvati who brandished at him and Hannah, even more out of breath than her sister who still carried two wands.
“Fly–ing.”, Parvati coughed.
“Flying?”, Ginevra frowned.
“He became – ”, Padma went on, “All foggy – and took Hannah – and was gone – ”
“You can do that too?”, it just spurt from her without thinking; Luna’s look was the only not startled: it was a clear warning.
“Too?”, Parvati lifted her eyebrows as well.
“Snape.”, she decided for the truth. “Oh come on. We’ve all seen him doing that. After Harry returned from the graveyard. What?”, they looked confused. “The Triwizard Tournament? No?”
“Er – no?”, Padma meant.
“I’ve seen him.”, Neville confirmed. “Dumbledore just got hold of him, remember?”
“Since when can you remember such?”, Parvati had calmed down.
“Hey!”, he and Hannah protested at once.
“You might not believe it, but I’ve indeed grown a memory,”, snapped Neville.
“Oh no – ”, Padma’s eyes widened with horror at one of the wands that was shaking in her tight grip. “I think, she’s trying to summon it.”
“Let her.”, Draco said. “Can’t be bad for you.”
“What’s worse than a death sentence? Maybe you don’t know, but I can read lips. She clearly said I’m dead.”
“Give her back her wand. Then we’ll see.”
“Okay.”
Padma loosened the grip and the wand sped from her hand, so quick that it crashed hard into the handrail of some stairs that just changed direction that moment and it snapped in two. They all leant over the banister by their landing at the sound. Only held together by the core material, the pieces fell into the depth and landed on the marble staircase with a distant clank.
“Oops,”, Padma giggled.
“Well, she can’t blame you, can she?”, Hannah noticed. “It’s like Hogwarts destroyed it, right? Her fault. She accepted to work here.”
~~#~~
An unbearable cold crawled around their shelter, strong enough to make it through only a tiny gap at the tent’s entrance. In vain, and getting even colder by standing there, she tried to fix it, rain thrashing her ears. It was as cold as the tears on her cheeks and she felt like back in the forest four years ago, surrounded by Dementors. Only this time no one would come. They were alone. Ron had ran away some days earlier and she and Harry practically hadn’t said a word to each other ever since.
The big table was crammed with books and parchment, most of the sheets strewn with drawings and writing, all Harry’s creations. He had spent the time in silence, with drawing the locket from any angle possible and she had to confess, he had already gotten quite good at it, though it hurt her to see him like that, probably more than Ron’s absence troubled her. However, she had no idea how Harry could have possibly taken books from her pouch and then be brazen enough to let them lie around openly.
Wrapping her vest tighter, she paced towards him. Totally devoted to another drawing that kept appearing on the sheets along with symbols Hermione couldn’t recall to ever have seen and little lumps that looked like biscuits somehow, he sat there in thoughts, every stroke of the pencil seeming so painful it felt strange to her that he could still hold it. He didn’t look up when she joined him from behind, staring at the figure without identity, only recognisable as somewhat human by the thick full beard and the outlines of the face. The man wore a kind of uniform, strangely resembling Stan Shunpike’s a little and there was some sort of earring that could have been Bill’s, if she thought about it. Curling her lips, she raised her feeble voice.
“Who’s that – ”
“Someone I once knew.”, Harry replied quiet and soft.
“Once?”
“One of the postmen. Back then at the Dursleys’. He moved to another village, Christmas before I received my letter.”
“Did you like him?”
“Yes.”
“So – you miss him?”, she chuckled, out of mere boredom.
“Dunno.”, Harry sighed and put down the pencil. “I keep thinking about the things he told me.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“For example, that any grudge will fall back heavy on the bearer one day. Or that a better way might be to infest a system like a virus and crush it when it is most vulnerable, instead of starting an open rebellion.”
“A postman said that to you. When you were ten.”, Hermione snorted.
“Oh I met him again, some years later. Asked him for advice. Under false pretences of course.”
“He seems to be a wise man – ”
“Probably, yes. But it doesn’t matter. Not now. Doesn’t bring us the sword or another Horcrux – yet. Sure, it’s exactly what we’re doing, crushing Tom Riddle from behind, but we’re stuck and I’m sick of denying it.”
“Would you however deny having stolen my books?”, she frowned, scanning the table.
“Oh, yes, I think I would. Because – ”
“They’re – they’re not – ”
“They’re mine.”, said Harry stiffly and she became more than just slightly alarmed. “I knew you’d be upset to know that I’ve been grooming my own library in Hagrid’s pouch for about a month,”
“What?”, she realised that some of the books weren’t written in English.
“Don’t worry, it was no trap to reveal our position.”
“Are you just trying to tell me that someone’s been placing books outside our shields?”
“Yes, I believe that was what I was just meaning to confess. Pretty exactly at the rim of our shields. Honestly, it feels really good to know we’re not alone out here. Someone’s keeping an eye on us. And I can assure you it is no foe.”
“How can you be sure!”, Hermione panicked with every passing second.
“I know. Trust me, I know just as much as I know that I have no idea how to destroy that locket. Or why our friend here is so eager to introduce me to all novels written by – ”
“Dostoyevsky – ”, she breathed, staring at a Russian dictionary. “And your so called `friend´ wants you to learn Russian too?”
“I guess, in their opinion, the translations aren’t right.”, Harry shrugged. “And maybe also to keep me busy otherwise, should whatever I’m brooding over make my brain explode.”
“Tz. Wait – Meadhbh Dunnahar – why’s her name on here too?”, her eyes were back on his notes.
“As much as that potion helped people ever since, as much pain it caused. I won’t refrain from using it though. Not until Riddle’s finished. But then, I’ll never have a sip of that crap ever again.”
“I think, I can agree on that. Still that doesn’t justify accepting foreign books from a complete stranger.”
“Unless you’re familiar with the manager of Flourish and Blotts, any book you ever bought for your magical education was accepted from a complete stranger,”
“Harry!”, she finally managed to produce a louder word. “That is completely off the point!”
“Technically, it’s not, and you know that.”
“But you can’t tell me,”, she huffed quiet again, “That you learned a whole new language within a month. That’s just imp- I mean – it’s – it’s – imposs- ”
“Don’t worry, my skills just come down to fluent reading. I’m far from understanding the words. Yet it helps deciphering everything faster. I was sceptical about the method first, but – ”
“And why Russian?”
“How should I know?”, he nearly barked. “It might happen to appear being useful, whatever.”
“Harry!”
“What. You know Ron can’t really keep secrets. Yes, he told me about that grammatical masterpiece of yours.”
“Has he.”, Hermione huffed. “It may interest you, that I only quoted someone there.”
“Thought so. After all he told me everything from that evening and I can put one and one together, regardless of what some may believe. But to be honest, I think he too quoted someone.”
“And who would that be?”
“Put one and one together in that grammar drama.”
Hermione though only shook her head, turned away and went for her bed, where she took off her shoes and crawled under the blanket, in hope to get warmer. That he accepted gifts from a stranger in their situ- but that meant – and – knowing where they were – and the sort of books – there was only one – that upset her so much in a blink, she was surprised her entire body hadn’t burst into hot flames instantly. However, something distracted her: she could hear him following her, and indeed, he appeared by one of the curtains and then sat down on the edge of the bed, visibly brooding over something.
“What’s it, Harry?”, she sat up and turned in the bedding to look at him, shocked now to lastly spot how much his hair had grown since they had left Grimmauld Place.
“I – I wondered – why doesn’t it fade?”
“Why what doesn’t fade?”
“The cloak.”, she just then saw that a heap of shimmering fabric laid on his thighs and he thoughtfully held some of it in hands as well. “I mean, everyone said that Invisibility Cloaks fade after some years, if the creator died or the Demiguise hair sheds. But this one – it already belonged to – ”
“What if the creator’s still alive?”
“Yeah – maybe – but I mean, sure the Potters were rich and therefore could maybe have afforded a cloak of high quality – but – but there’s more to it – I have a feeling – ”
Even though she knew that Harry was far from being a Legilimens, she did her best to shield her mind. If he riddled out what exactly that cloak was and who had actually given it to him –
“The pencil you’re drawing with – ”, she decided for a different topic in addition, “How many of those have you got and how the heck did I miss – ?”
“Oh, just that one.”
“Er – but I’ve seen you sharpening, many times – it doesn’t – ”
“It’s a spell. I can sharpen it as often as I like to. It’ll grow at the end.”
“And if you sharpen the other end?”, Hermione chuckled.
“I guess, the opposite end would still grow, with the tip. Never tried.”
“Where’ve you got it from?”
“Birthday.”
“From whom?”, Harry only shrugged. “You don’t know?”
“A friend.”
“You don’t know who gave it to you, but you know it was a friend?”, a little curious, she sat up straighter, not noticing that she had stopped trembling from the cold. “The – same friend?”, he shrugged again.
“It didn’t kill me so far, did it?”
“No.”, Hermione sighed, gazing at the end of the bed.
“And Trelawney said nothing about having to be caustious with pencils.”
“Trelawney. Tz.”
“Yeah. Even Ron’s a better seer. I – I think it was him.”
“Him? Ron?”
“No. The postman.”
“Harry – ”
“He’s a wizard.”
“A wizard. Delivering Muggle post.”, that indeed made her curious and she was really not sure anymore what to think about the whole.
“Kept an eye on me when I was little.”, he said, staring at her bedside table. “So – ”
“Like Mrs Figg – ”
“Something like that, yes.”
“And you met him again?”, Harry nodded. “And there he gave you the pencil?”
“Would I’ve said then that it was an anonymous present I received when I was alone?”, he gnarled.
“No. But you didn’t say that precisely. How can you know it was him?”
“I – have a feeling, that’s all.”
“You seem to have a load of feelings about many unproven things lately,”
He didn’t seem to have caught the mumbling. There was a strange glistening in his eyes, barely catchable, but she knew that kind of glistening and it downright shocked her to see it, even more with his greasy hair reaching his chin: it was the same she could have seen in Severus’ eyes, any time he had talked about Harry with her.
“What are you thinking about?”, she gargled.
“Why?”
“Why?”, Hermione moaned. “I – I just want to know what’s on your mind, that’s all!”
“If I started to tell you, we’d be very old before I finished.”
“Ha, ha. You think he knows?”
“Hmm?”, at last, Harry looked at her.
“That we’re after his soul?”, Harry hesitated.
“No idea – ”, he sighed at her pillow, blinking and again she could see some resemblance in his face. “I mean, I kept wondering, but actually, I’d be really glad if he didn’t notice until we’ve found and destroyed the second last bit. But I also wonder why he’s so fixated on wands.”
“Wands?”
“When he tortured Olivander because he had failed to get it right – you know, about the cores of our wands being the reason,”
“But he hasn’t been fixated on wands ever since – ”
“He has.”
“Harry! You – you didn’t – ”
“Well, as I keep telling you,”, he murmured into her angry outburst, “It’s not easy closing your mind when you’re asleep. Because, considering the nature of a human being, it is then that it turns off consciousness for coming to terms with all that happened on the passed day.”, the way he had constructed the sentence, made her lips curl. “Maybe I can one day before I fall asleep, but it’s out of my control once I reached that state. Why doesn’t that get into your head? I just can’t, okay? Just as much as Riddle can’t stop thinking about wands.”, he huffed to the tarpaulin opposite to him.
“Why’d you call him like that?”
“Because Tom Riddle’s his real name.”, Harry grunted.
“I know, but – ”
“Dunno. Maybe because – maybe I hope there’s – still enough human inside him that he’d – well, make a terrible mistake one day, which then will be his ruin.”, Hermione couldn’t stop her insides from crumpling on the awareness that there was a lot more of Severus in him than she preferred, and she didn’t even know why – maybe she feared, he would end up as alone as him. “Because, and that’s also what – the postman said to me – all humans are flawed in some ways. Especially tyrants. And they seek so long for their victims’ flaws to be able to use those against them, that they forget about their own flaws.”
“So – you mean, we’ll beat him at his own game – ”
“Well, isn’t that what we already do? He thought he’d be invincible by splitting his soul, but the truth is – ”
“He made himself more vulnerable – ”
“Yes.”, Harry said staid. “And I hope, as I said, that he won’t notice. That would mean, there’s not much human left in him. But if there is, and he will of course notice then, he’ll hopefully make another mistake that’d be even more fatal.”
“Harry – ”
“Yes, I know that sounds a little cruel, considered that there’d still be some human side to him, but actually, I can understand now what Dumbledore meant. Killing can never be satisfying, and that is why, I think, Riddle doesn’t stop. He thinks, it will lead to satisfaction, but it doesn’t. The grandest pleasure for a warrior is perhaps if he finds his enemy shattered by their own mistakes, their ideology backfiring on them. Dodge stated in his tribute to Dumbledore that he’d lived and fought to the end, for a greater good.”
“But – ”
“I think, I’ll just do the same. An ant that cuts string after string from that spider’s web, unnoticed, just one in a while, until the web doesn’t hold the spider anymore. That is how he got control over the Ministry, you see. I infest his system like a virus and crush it when it is most vulnerable. When he realises that he should have paid attention, it will be too late. We’re nothing but chess players, and he will lose the game, because he was too drunk in his will to win as fast as possible. Yes, I will beat him at his own game. And his carelessness, that will be Tom Riddle’s end. He won’t die by my hand, but his own. Neither can live while the other survives, and I won’t give him or any of his followers the satisfaction of myself becoming a killer. There are others who can do that better anyway. But all I actually hope for is that he’ll fully understand what he’d done before he passes. Some remorse wouldn’t be bad for him, I think.”
That seemed to be his last words, as he fell silent, staring straight forward, but with a kind of expression she had never seen on anyone: he looked like he could stand up now, walk out, Disapparate exactly to where Voldemort was even though she had no idea whether he knew where he was, and confront him. It scared her.
“Are you done?”, Hermione moaned.
“No.”, he said impassively and raised, turning to go. “Happy Hallowe’en.”
“Ha- what?”, she gasped. “It’s – how – ”
“How I know?”
“Yes – I mean, I’ve lost track of the date ages ago – ”
“You don’t have a calendar?”, Harry continued emotionless, his back on her.
“No – do you?”
“No.”
“But how – you’re just guessing, right?”
“No.”, he repeated stiff and left her alone.
~~#~~
Little white fairies were swaying in the soft breeze, dancing down to the ground. Winter was finally coming, late this year. It were the last days of November. Pairs and pairs of eyes on him, he stood by the window and watched the snow fall. No light on, no fire burning. The cold from outside crawled through the cracks around the ancient glass, slowly beginning to fill the drab room that seemed only black, greyish white and other shades of grey by the scarce light coming in. Heavy dark clouds veiled the morning sun and left the creation of colours no freedom. Only hints of such still existed, at a closer look. His pale face mirrored in the cold glass, but there was indeed some colour, standing out from everything else.
A lone, golden ring. In his hands, smoothly knitted, cosy purple wool, carrying a number of silvery white stars. A silent tear ran down his cheek as he lifted it to his mouth and nose. Not the slightest hint left. Not even a year and nothing was left of her. At least not in that piece. Trying not to break further into tears, he lowered his hands, took a deep breath and bound the warming scarf around his neck, the ends hanging down from the knot, equal in length. He could barely catch the sound of something fluttering.
“Severus?”, a soft, quiet voice called him from behind. “There is – writing – on this parchment – ”
All the sadness swept away in the span of a wink, he rushed around and stormed over to the desk, halting in front of it and reached over, bronze eyes studying his moves with calm interest. Quickly written words, probably done in a rare moment of loneliness – the writing was blurred. With a frustrated snort he put on his reading glasses, but still it was blurred, at points, and he knew she was crying.
No sign of him. Still. But Harry’s taking our food in quite rough hands now. Doesn’t levitate those animals in and stun them anymore, but spares me the work to kill them by slashing their throats with your spell! I begin to believe, it’s his way to deal with his anger. And I thought he’d never kill. He said that himself, but he is indeed killing animals, if though for survival reasons. It’s worse when he wears the locket of course. I could almost see satisfaction there. So horrible to watch, considering that what he told me some weeks ago. And it’s gross, somehow. But he’s better at cooking than me. I confess it doesn’t take much for that, but I’m not certain whether I want the thought that the reason might be another.
And last night, he suddenly sat there with some fresh herbs and some vegetables. He refused to tell me how he got them, but it doesn’t need a lot of brains to know he snuck out of the shield and broke into the glass house I saw as we passed a little village the other day. Found the flask with Essence of Dittany a little emptier when I scanned my bag because it hadn’t laid where I’d left it. Looks to me just like he smashed in a window and tried to heal the wounds while I was still asleep, so as to not leave a mark of magic at the site. I also found a cloth with blood under his bed. Idiot. I can understand that he misses some quality meal, but he’s just getting us in danger with that!
What about you?
With a breath gliding over his ajar lips, the sheet slipped from his hands. Devastated even more than before, he stared at the high old chair on the other side of the desk, a chair that was supposed to be his, but felt like torture every time he had to sit in it.
“Severus?”, the portrait of the old man repeated.
Composing himself, he adjusted the paper on the desk, inked a quill and wrote. The moment the ink touched the sheet, Hermione’s writing disappeared.
Don’t worry. I will find him. Try to be safe. Make sure to not stay in one place longer than two days. Snatchers are still scanning random forests and villages. If possible, let Phineas know wherever you are. And don’t bother Harry. Just see that he doesn’t wear the locket all too often. Good luck, my precious. Take care. Both of you.
He stuck back the quill.
Thank you, love.
For some moments, he just stared at the words. Then he rummaged for his pouch, stored the sheet inside and took out a red and silver object.
“Severus!”, Dumbledore got slightly angry. “What is going on? Talk to me!”
But Severus wouldn’t. Thinking, he just studied the Venetian mask, ignoring the eyes that were focused on him. Then there was knocking. He made mask and pouch vanish in no time.
“Who is there?”
“It’s me, Sir!”, the girl spoke through the door.
“Come in.”, as quick as ever, Ginevra scurried inside and closed the door behind. “What is it?”
“They’re – mad.”, she sighed.
“Mad?”, Severus murmured.
“Aberforth – and Professor McGonagall. They want to build a tunnel.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t bother me as much if they weren’t planning to build it between the Hog’s Head and the Room of Requirement. So we’re not depending on secret servings from the kitchen. Is it – even possible?”
“No.”, Severus considered. “That is insane. The room is on the seventh floor. You would have to dig through at least half of the castle and all the way to Hogsmeade, let alone the magic around the room itself. But I know a room that could work, if you really wish to please yourselves with owning any tunnel. Though you should be careful. Utterly careful. This could even cost some lives, if the tunnel should collapse.”
“I know. But it would mean a way out, in case we would have to – flee. Or likely, a way in.”
“I do understand Minerva’s way of thinking. Give me a second. Albus? Is there an old map of Hogwarts somewhere? One that shows where the ancient tunnels and wings were?”
“I believe, there is. Let me think.”, he leant onto his hand. “I had one. Ages ago. Borrowed it from the Restricted Section in my fifth year. But where? Where is it?”, Dumbledore mumbled. “I am not sure, whether it is here. Maybe I just left it with my old books – ”
But Severus had already drawn his wand. A heavy rattling came from behind a shelf, shaking some dust off books that hadn’t been opened in years.
“Ah! Yes! Of course! Behind `Enchantment in Baking´, if I remember it right.”
Severus paced over to the shelf and trailed his fingers across the dusty saddles. When he found said book, he tilted it out and – the shelf got stuck. Too many heavy piles were stationed on the floor in front. A snort escaped him and he tried to summon again, but the box the map was in, was obviously too big.
“Forgive me my mess.”
“It’s my fault as well. I’ve had this – office – for three m-onths n-ow.”, he groaned, trying to pull the shelf open manually. “Could have cleaned up, couldn’t I.”, a chuckle and the shelf moved about two inches. “Oh come on. How big is this box?”, clank. “Wonderful. What was that?”, Severus peeked inside.
“Ah that might have been the candlestick.”, Dumbledore scratched his temple.
“Why do you – I don’t even want to know.”, huffed Severus and pushed a little more.
Finally. As sordid as the books in the door, he held an old wooden box in hand, which he then carried over to the desk. He gave it a blow, not caring about the chair that received the dust that hadn’t flown off by summoning it. Inside, there were many layers of very old parchment. Severus wanted to pick one, but pulled them all with it. It was a huge map – and he knew that this in the hands of the Marauders would have saved them at least a year of work.
“Very well. Then not.”
He let it sink back down and tipped his wand at it. No reaction. Glad about the fact, he tipped the thick pile with his wand again, then with his finger. An identical folded massive parchment soared up and he gave his wand a flick before he caught the exact copy of the map. He checked random layers, then walked off the podium and handed it to Ginevra.
“Wow. That’ll be a lot of work.”
“Tell them that you stole it from Filch’s. Make a little chaos and some fake distraction, if necessary.”
“Alright.”
“The room I was talking about, is opposite to my old office, not far down the corridor.”, he hastily searched for it on a bottom layer and showed it to her. “A deserted classroom. The wall gave in and they were too lazy to fix it. My mother once told me about it, but I never cared about checking it myself. You could use it as a starting point. If you go along this way here, you might be able to connect to that old tunnel there. But I am not sure how much of it is buried.”
“Great. It’s a start. Though it doesn’t make it easer not to starve when hiding from detention, but at least we can order other stuff from outside that’s not allowed via mail.”
“If you should succeed.”
“Yes.”
“Was that all?”, Ginevra hesitated.
“What’s – what’s he doing here?”, she frowned over to the big cat on the desk and he briefly threw a glance over his shoulder.
“Sitting, as it seems.”
“Funny.”, snorted Ginevra. “Isn’t he supposed to be at The Burrow? I mean, that’s where Hermione left him – and I too. Didn’t need the additional trouble of saving Arnold from him every other minute.”
“I have no idea.”, Severus sighed. “When I got up this morning, he was sitting on my bed.”
“Wait – you mean, he came all the way here? From Devon? And past all the enchantments around the grounds as well as your locked door?”
“As I said,”
“You don’t know. But you look horrified, Sir.”, she moaned. “Is everything fine?”
Ginevra brushed a bundle of her ginger bushes behind her ear, the light from the Pensieve in the corner cabinet Severus had just used minutes ago, giving it a bluish shine. The news of the purpose must have had come so fast that she hadn’t had the time to straighten the mane. Something somewhere in the back of Severus’ head clicked. Hastily, he took out his pouch again and stuck his arm deep in. There. He pulled it back, holding a simple brush in hand.
“Sir?”, Ginevra blinked and frowned at the object.
Like a puzzle setting itself together, the solution developed before his eyes. The brush still carried some hair. Quite unfortunate for someone who had hardly any time, but way better than a masked stranger, if it worked out the way he hoped.
“I’ll be gone for a month.”
“What?”
“Well, naturally, I won’t. I will be in here. Make sure Draco spreads the news among – ah – the right people. I will not be present.”
“So you need some privacy?”
“Yes. Good luck out there, you voles.”, he gave her a worried smirk.
“Thanks. To you as well, Sir – with whatever you’re – er – planning – and – with Crookshanks – ”
“Thank you. Try to survive. It would be a shame if Harry lost you to a tunnel.”, she waited some seconds, then nodded, turned and left him alone with his plan, several former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts giving him confused gazes.
~~#~~