Disclaimer: Except for OCs, the characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of JK Rowling and her assigns. Author's note: This story is not in the same universe as "The Golden Moment." It follows "The Life and Times of Perseus". I don't think it's mandatory to read that first because I tried to keep it consistent with the canon, but if you find yourself confused, you might want to give that story a quick read.
Lord Voldemort droned on and on in his self-serving speech to Harry. Hermione kept looking over at the professor lying on the floor. She thought about his snake bite and wondered whether he was really dead. She remembered that Mr. Weasley had been bitten by the same snake but didn't die. He needed a special potion for the wounds to heal, but as long as the wounds were properly bound he didn't bleed excessively.
The awful voice stopped talking, and Harry went back into the tunnel with Ron right behind him. Hermione looked back over at the body on the floor. He was evil and rude... He killed Dumbledore... and yet... She couldn't do nothing. She wasn't sure if she understood everything going on, but she didn't think he could be all bad if Voldemort wanted to kill him.
"Hold on, Professor Snape," she said. She tore a curtain from the window and made a bandage, which she wrapped around his neck as tightly as she could without suffocating him. "I'll send someone here for you as soon as I get a chance."
The next thing he remembered was pain along his throat and hearing a somewhat familiar female voice. "I know I said I'd take a special patient, but I didn't realize it would be him. I'm not sure I can, Cissy. I've lost too much... I have an infant to take care of..."
"A Mudblood husband and half-breed frea—ouch!" He heard a crackle of magic and wondered what the other witch had done. "Fine. You've lost too much and you miss your husband, but you have to do it. He would be in danger at our house, Andie."
"How could he be in danger in your house? He was on your side."
"No, he was on your side, just like Sirius, and even Regulus. They were all on your side." Narcissa's voice was more resigned than bitter.
A voice he recognized as Poppy Pomfrey's was heard. "Andromeda, we trust you, and this is an out-of-the way sort of place. It was perfect all those years ago for Alastor, and it will be perfect for him, too. Please do it... for me? Albus would have wanted this, too."
The women's voices traveled down a hallway, and he chanced opening his eyes. Everything was blurry. He only had vague impressions of the furnishings and walls, but he recognized the smell and feel of this bedroom. He had stayed in it a year before while he worked with the middle Black sister, teaching her to make Wolfsbane.
It came back to him. Of course, he remembered. Her daughter was in love with the werewolf, and she was a loving mother. She had freely admitted some lingering prejudices from her youth about werewolves as they worked. Her husband—her late husband—he realized, had talked her around, and she learned to make Wolfsbane for the sake of her daughter.
Andromeda. The name rolled through his mind in the same way that it had often rolled off his tongue. She was a bit timid, compared to her sisters. It was likely due to the fact that she had lived essentially in hiding during the first war. When her older sister had escaped from Azkaban, she was forced back into a quiet life again. Even so, she was quite smart, though her self-taught Potions skills lacked some polish. They had developed a rhythm together. He found himself enjoying the art of brewing potions with her so much that he asked her if they might make some others while he was there.
It had been with some sadness that he had left the Tonks home when it was time for him to go back to Hogwarts and shortly after that into disgrace. On the other hand, it had been the best thing to go. He had found himself more than a little smitten with her. He had returned to Hogwarts with thoughts of her rich hair and bright eyes, the sway of her hips as she moved around a workbench or kitchen, and the way she ruled over her small domain. Perhaps the most attractive thing about her had been the way she looked at that chubby, ordinary piece of humanity she had married. It didn't seem fair that a man like Ted Tonks should have had such good fortune.
Altogether, it had been the most enjoyable holiday in his memory. Perhaps that had been why Dumbledore had encouraged his taking that leave. Maybe the old manipulator had wanted him to have that interlude to enjoy life a little, to lust a little, and to recall the grace of the world they were trying to save.
For some reason, he had been brought to her house, now. He tried to piece it together. On the last day in his memory he did what had become the ordinary things. He had gotten up and managed to endure the day. The Carrows were excited by something that afternoon, and then a message had come through Voldemort's servants. Harry Potter was expected to arrive in Hogsmeade that day and under no circumstances was to be allowed in Hogwarts. The Dark Lord himself would come after attending some urgent business.
Somehow Potter had made it to the school and had been standing, in his father's invisibility cloak, as McGonagall decided to start a duel. Snape was sure of it. The devil was in trying to fight the hellcat off while not hitting the boy with a stray spell. Finally, it was easiest just to leave... for a while.
Where had he gone after that? He had managed to look busy while staying on the outskirts of the action. There had been injured people who needed tending, and then the Slytherin students had been sent from the castle and into Hogsmeade. Most of them had been annoyed over this development, but Severus had silently thanked Minerva McGonagall for doing this kind-hearted thing. Had the tables been turned, the Dark Lord would no doubt have used the students as bait before torturing and killing them.
A summons had come and he was filled with dread. There was too much to think about tonight to face the Dark Lord, yet not to go was to face certain death. He was vaguely aware of having kept his secrets, but also of the snake and a magical cage... There was a task he should make sure he finished for Dumbledore. He tried to sit upright and failed. The blankets on the bed weighed a ton, and he ached in every joint of his body. Nevertheless, he tried to get up and to move his arm. A glass fell from the table beside the bed and broke.
The voices in the hallway returned. Poppy's was heard now. "If Draco can help with the heavy lifting..."
The voices stopped and the door opened. "Severus?" Her voice was soft and kind. She was no longer the put-upon sister. Right now she was an angel of mercy. Although he couldn't really see her face, he had an impression of kind concern.
"Need... Potter..."
A gentle hand touched his forehead, and she said a bit more loudly, "Cissy, could you come tell him what you told me about what happened to Harry Potter in the forest?"
Seeing the look on his face, Andromeda stayed by his side as her sister came in. Narcissa sat down and took his hand. She then told him about how Harry had come of his own accord into the forest and allowed the Dark Lord to blast him with Avada Kedavra. She described everyone's stunned horror when both spell caster and victim had fallen to the earth. She then explained that Harry was actually alive and managed to kill the Dark Lord in a final duel in the Great Hall.
"How...?" He couldn't find the words or much desire to say them, but he had to know. "Me?"
Andromeda spoke then, and he pictured the kindness in her eyes. "You were bitten by his snake. Mr. Potter thought you were dead, but Miss Granger bound your wounds. She asked Poppy to see what could be done, and the potion that was used on Arthur Weasley was obtained from St. Mungo's. Since you're out of immediate danger now, they decided to bring you here so that you wouldn't be in the middle of everything."
"Look at that. You're getting along just fine." Narcissa got up. "If you're all set then, Andie, I'll send Draco along this evening." She sighed. "There are so many things, right at once. There's also Bella..."
The angel of mercy let out a huff. "Don't expect me to mourn her, Cissy. There's also Nymphadora, whom she killed. Don't expect me to feel bad for you. You haven't lost a husband or a child. If Molly Weasley had not killed your precious Bella, I would have." Severus was not too weary to think that in her righteous anger, Andromeda Tonks sounded magnificent.
There was silence for a minute. Severus would have given anything to see the looks the two witches were exchanging. Who would win this battle of wills? Andromeda gave a tired sigh. "Yes, we'll be fine. I see that it's really the best option for him." The elder sister acquiesced, but who actually won?
Narcissa said her goodbyes and went back out into the hallway. The voices out there started up again and moved down the hall and out of the house. Andromeda was still beside his bed, looking at him in concern, he thought.
"You... don't... want..."
She patted his hand soothingly. "Severus, it doesn't matter what I want. I can't have it, anyway. I've lost them all—my husband, my daughter, my son-in-law... all of them. None of it is your fault, though. From what we hear, you did what you could to help, more than anyone had a right to expect from you. Cissy and Poppy are right. This is a good place for you. I need to have something to do with myself, anyway, or I'll start brooding and that won't be good for anyone."
"Thank... An... a..."
"You stop straining your throat and your neck, Severus Snape. From the sound of it, I and every other resident of England should be thanking you." She patted his hand and held a glass to his lips. He recognized some sleeping or calming potion, perhaps one he had made and Poppy had brought, or perhaps one made by Andromeda and him together. She took the glass away and adjusted the blankets over him. "Rest well; you're safe." As he tried to analyze the ingredients that still coated his tongue, he forgot to stay awake.
She remembered Cissy's long-ago distress that the Dark Lord would somehow mistake this child for the one mentioned in a prophecy. Andromeda looked at the boy and mentally shrugged. He seemed pretty dull by her standards, but then she wasn't his mother. She stopped herself. This boy, this young man, had been through war. He was shocked and hurt by what he had seen and done, and perhaps what had happened to him in the bargain.
Draco took his bag up to the room she indicated and came back down the stairs to the kitchen. He didn't seem inclined to talk. He ate his dinner and sat at the table while his aunt cleared up. The house-elf then took over the washing as his aunt led him to the sitting room. She sat on a chair and indicated that he should sit, too.
"I thought I could answer any questions you might have about me or my home," she said.
"I don't have any. You're a blood traitor, and this house stinks of Mudbloods."
"I suppose your parents taught you to think that way, and I suppose that, technically, you're right, although your choice of vocabulary is inflammatory. I should educate you on one point. This house was built by a pure-blood wizard, your grandfather's brother and your Great-Uncle Alphard."
"It smells of blood traitors, then. Aunt Bella said you were a blood traitor whore who ran off with a Mudblood."
"Again, your facts are technically correct. I did leave my family, and I did marry Ted Tonks. Do you know what my other option was?"
He blushed because he did know.
"Can you imagine what a nineteen-year-old girl would go through if she were handed over to your uncle's brother?"
He looked away because he had seen what Rabastan Lestrange did to women.
"Would you really want someone in your family to go through that? Your mother's pure-blood sister? Surely you care more for family than that."
"You didn't care for your family," was the sullen response.
"They didn't care about me. They had already handed me over to him." Her eyes became distant as she watched a memory. "I was alone in a garden with Rabastan, and he was scolding me for being an inattentive fiancée. I can still feel how tightly he held my wrist as he tried to make me accept his touches. He was going to put me under an Imperius Curse. No one should be treated like that, yet my father and mother simply handed me over to him so that he could do that to me."
Draco was looking at her now as she continued. "Instead of casting the spell, he fell over... and there was Ted. I wasn't in love with him or anything. He was just the only one who cared enough to do something. Consider that with your ideas of nobility and blood purity. He was the only one who wanted to protect me or take care of me.
"He held out his hand and offered me another choice. We got married that night and moved into this house. One member of my family took us in. I had one suitcase, Draco. My loving family must have burned everything else that belonged to me, right after they blasted me from the family tree. The only thing I had of real value was the emerald necklace that had been promised to your mother."
He was interested. "Why did you have it?"
She smiled. "They matched the dress I wore to that party. It was assumed that after I was compelled to marry Rabastan, I would return the emeralds, and then Narcissa would have them."
"Mother has a lovely antique emerald necklace, now. She wears it to important parties and has a funny smile when she puts them on."
"The very same one, I suspect. I traded it back in exchange for control over the trust fund that had been established for me at birth."
"I wouldn't have given those jewels back."
"They served their purpose, and I didn't want to hurt Cissy. She lived on every word that came from your father's mouth in those days. The Malfoys were very specific in demanding those emeralds... and you. I was able to give the jewels and news that I was pregnant with your cousin, and my mother finessed the rest of it."
This was a view of his parents that Draco had never heard. He found himself asking questions, and the evening wore on surprisingly pleasantly. He wasn't prepared for the look of concern she gave him when they stood to go up to bed.
"Are you all right, Draco?"
He didn't know what she was asking, so he just looked at her.
"Everyone has been through a terrible ordeal. If you need to talk or take a break or anything, please let me know."
He shrugged and said the first words out of his mouth. "Why do you care? Your side won. It's not like you would understand."
She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "I suppose it did, but there's not much to celebrate right now when I've lost so much. First I lost my entire family as a Black, and now I've lost almost all my family as a Tonks. I probably would have some sense of pretty much anything you could want to talk about."
He took a long look at her for a moment. "Thank you, Aunt Andie, I appreciate your concern," he said politely. He lit his wand and went up the stairs.
She sighed. He couldn't be expected to open up to her in one day, she supposed. He didn't have the free and easy Tonks blood to offset the Black stiffness. She shook it off and went to the sick room to check on her other guest. He was lying there with his eyes closed, but somehow she thought he might be awake.
"Do you need anything?" she whispered. If he really was asleep, she didn't want to wake him.
"Stay?" His hand flopped on the coverlet.
She looked around the room and moved the easy chair near the bed. Then she sat down and took his hand. He was too thin, she thought to herself. He probably didn't feel like he had a friend in the world, either. She should talk to him, let him feel a connection to things, but she didn't know what to say. What could a person say after believing the worst about someone for a year and then finding out the best?
She remembered their work together the previous year. She had been so embarrassed by her unprofessional technique, yet he had made suggestions that were kind, from him. He had also been very interested in her garden and plans for future potions. He had made good recommendations, all the while knowing she would revile him within weeks.
"I took your advice on moving the Mandrake patch near the pond," she said to start. "I set it off with a section of elephant ears and the other parts of the garden perked right up." Did she imagine a different warmth in his hand as she spoke to him? She continued. "I changed the way I dried the aconite, too. I did notice that your technique seemed to make a better potion every month. The transition seems to be smoother for Remus..." She broke of with a gasp. There was no reason to make Wolfsbane this next month.
The darkness of the time after Ted died beckoned to her. She took a deep breath and another one, but couldn't stop her hands trembling with emotion. "You have to do this," she told herself under her breath. "You can't hide from the world this time. You're a Black. You have to do this..."
This time she didn't imagine it. The hand within hers gave a little squeeze. "Con—dolances." It was very quiet and came from barely parted lips, but it was sincere.
"Thank you," she whispered. The room was quiet for a few minutes, except for his labored breathing and her struggle to regain control of herself. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't quite companionable. She started again. "I've also followed a great many of your other recommendations in my still room..."
A/N: This is a rather ambitious work for me, since I will be trying to work several storylines together with the main one. I hope you will be patient with me as I try to improve my skills. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think so far. Mark Darcy is my beta reader and sounding board. Some of my cleverest ideas have come from conversations with her.