Dumbledore magically enhanced his voice so it could reach every one of the thousand people gathered in the Great Hall to celebrate the final downfall of Lord Voldemort. Not that Dumbledore would have needed the loud, megaphone-like voice because all ears were waiting for his words.
"My friends," he began, his eyes sweeping over eager faces. "We are here to recognize a...bittersweet victory."
A murmur went through the crowds as he said that. Bittersweet? It was common belief that the good side had suffered minimal damages, only a few dozen Aurors and not even twenty muggle-born had been killed. That was nothing compared to the last time Voldemort had risen.
"There has been far too much death. No one should have died at the hands of Voldemort, but there have been murders. No one should have died trying to stop Voldemort, yet we have lost some of the best Aurors of our time. And," he paused, his eyes lingering on Hermione Granger sitting in the front row. Dumbledore tried to catch her gaze, but she didn't seem to be looking. Her eyes were distant. "No one should have to lose their innocence to that monster." His voice lost its hard edge as he said: "I believe that for now we shall merely lick our wounds and think about the consequences later. Please, enjoy the feast and music." His hand waved along the edges of the wall and tables appeared, laden with every type of food imaginable.
Hermione drew her hood closer to her face, not wanting people to acknowledge her as of yet. Her cloak was large enough to hide every square inch of her body in lovely crimson silk. She knew that she didn't deserve such a rich gift, but her friends insisted that she buy something. Her hands had fallen on the cloak and Hermione had smiled, fleetingly, for the first time in days.
She looked around and saw enchanted instruments playing softly in the background, filling in gaps in conversation and making the mood carefree and light. Her hand began to tap on her thigh, lightly, in time with the music. A hand touched her shoulder and she sat ramrod straight in her chair. Memories came flooding back to her and she had to force herself not to wail in terror.
"Miss Granger, I see you have wrapped yourself up in a scarlet cloak as well as mystery this time."
Hermione turned slightly, not knowing if she should reveal her face to the person in question as of yet. They know your name so there is no point in hiding. "Severus." Her voice was soft.
He stood still, his hands by his side. Thank goodness for all those years as a spy, He thought to himself miserably. Hermione's once tanned face was now white, gaunt and strangely haunted. Her left eyebrow had a slash of a scar cutting through it, narrowly missing her eye. Hermione had straight hair now, as if she were in hiding.
"I've missed you." Severus finally managed, albeit terribly lamely.
"And I you." Miss Granger patted the seat next to her, asking him to sit down.
"May I ask you about your scar?"
"Voldemort was a violent lover." Her voice was flat with distaste.
Professor Snape had to stop his eyes from widening and his arms from wrapping around her. "Uh, perhaps you'd like to start from the beginning."
"The beginning could be fifty years ago when Tom Riddle went to school. Perhaps you'd like to be more specific." Her hands were folded in her lap and she was still tense. She wasn't even fidgeting.
"How about you start from when the Death Eaters stormed the castle and stunned all the Professors." He offered, shifting to get more comfortable.
"Very well." Her eyes met his for the first time and he noticed how mature they had become. "However, once I begin, I will not stop." Hermione raised her hand to stop him from interrupting her. "I will not stop. You will have to listen until the gory end. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Miss Granger." Severus was a little shocked.
"Then, I will repeat my tale from the night of Halloween when I saw the Dark Mark made in the sky, an omen of what was to come."