Chapter 3
Though the sun was fully up now, Harry's and Hermione's first steps into the Forbidden Forest plunged them into a murky twilight.
"Oh, my!" Hermione breathed.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, as he began moving forward.
"Lumos," the two murmured together. And the tips of their wands lit up with an eerie green glow.
Harry took the lead, breaking the path ahead of them. But the brambles still caught at Hermione's clothes. Both Harry and she had worn long sleeves and jeans in anticipation of this very obstacle, but they both knew that the longer they fought their way through the Forest, the less protection such precautions would afford them.
"I certainly am glad I'm not wearing my bandage anymore," Hermione said to herself with a relieved sigh. "It'd be snagged by something with every step I took.
Harry didn't hear her comment. "I don't know exactly where we're going, Hermione," he said grimly.
"I know."
"But I think that Snape, if he is hiding out, would find the Forest the perfect place to do so." Harry used a Slashing spell to remove a particularly large and troublesome bramble from their path. "I mean, he might be taking his chances with the other escaped Death Eaters, but the Ministry wouldn't spend a great deal of time searching the Forbidden Forest."
"Probably not," Hermione agreed. "But why would Snape fear the Ministry, Harry? He did give you those memories. Wouldn't he just assume you would do your best to convince the authorities of his true loyalties?"
"Not necessarily," Harry replied breathlessly, as he Slashed at a nettle bush. "He might be afraid I still hate him and would refuse to believe the memories were real. Snape's paranoid, Hermione. And he knows he did a great job of making me hate him."
"But he also knows you are an honourable person, Harry. Wouldn't it make more sense that he'd believe you to be working on his behalf, no matter how much you hated him?"
"Maybe," Harry answered without conviction. "I'm just theorizing."
The two companions were quiet as they both gave themselves up to their own thoughts.
Harry and Hermione kept moving for another two hours before they felt too exhausted and hungry to go on. They used their wands to clear a spot on the ground on which to sit and eat. Hermione, whose pack contained enough food in its reduced state to feed them for a week, pulled out two tiny packets and restored them to size.
"Engorgio."
And two large roast beef sandwiches appeared. She handed one to Harry, and they ate in silence.
Suddenly, Hermione felt as though someone, or several someones, were watching them. How was that possible? She had heard absolutely nothing approach their spot.
"Harry," she whispered without turning to look at him.
"Yes," he mumbled through the bite of sandwich his mouth.
"Do you hear anything—feel anything?"
Harry paused in his chewing. "No," he said, taking another bite of his food. "Why?"
"I don't know. I just have the sneaking suspicion we're being watched."
Only then did they hear movement in the thicket behind them.
Then, without further warning, about twenty sleek and muscular centaurs of varying colors appeared, encircling Harry's and Hermione's resting site. They held their bows, arrows resting on the string, in their large, square hands.
"We meet again, Harry Potter," the deep voice of Magorian hailed Harry. His equine body was shiny, blue-black, his face handsome, but careworn.
Harry and Hermione jumped up and inclined their heads respectfully at their visitors.
"Magorian," Harry answered. "How are you?"
"I am well, young wizard," His dark eyes were impassive, but the muscles in his jaw were tight. The other looked poised to follow their leader into battle.
"This is Hermione Granger, Magorian. She is my companion and friend." Hermione curtsied but said nothing. She felt it best that Harry do all the talking at present.
Magorian nodded to Hermione, only meeting her eyes for an instant before turning back to Harry.
"Why are you in the Forbidden Forest, Harry Potter?" Magorian asked, his voice booming as thought in judgment. "And why did you not seek me out with your request to sojourn here?" Magorian's eyes were flashing.
Harry fought to maintain the proper balance between fearlessness and respectful regard. "We are here in search of a missing comrade—a hero of the war with Voldemort. He was thought to be dead, but now we have reason to believe he is alive and hiding in your Forest. Perhaps you know of him? His name is Severus Snape, former Potions master at Hogwarts."
Magorian's countenance did not change, but the atmosphere surrounding the group in the clearing tensed perceptibly. There was restlessness in the other centaurs. Some of them lightly pawed the ground in what seemed to Harry and Hermione like agitation.
"You have seen him," Harry stated, leaving no room for argument. Magorian nodded slightly. "Do you know where he is?"
"Please, Mister—ah—Magorian," Hermione stuttered self-consciously," is he all right? We won't do anything to hurt him. We just want to help him in any way we can." Her words came in a rush. Her eyes were full of desperation to convince.
The sleek black sides of the leader heaved in a soft sigh, as he regarded the two young rescuers before him. His followers were all watching their leader intently. But Magorian's black eyes were locked on Hermione's pleading brown ones. She felt he was attempting to read her. She felt him delve deeply into her heart and mind.
What was he looking for?
She did not fight his invasion, though it was her automatic reaction to try to do so.
Then, something of a satisfied look spread across his face. His eyes became friendlier, his mouth curved into the tiniest of smiles.
"I believe you, little lioness," Magorian said softly. "Our meeting here is fate. Saving Severus Snape is your destiny," he intoned meaningfully, his eyes never leaving Hermione's face, "and his."
Harry turned to look at Hermione questioningly. But she could not tear her full attention away from Magorian. She felt his words flow over her. She felt them burrow deeply into her heart. She did not have the slightest clue what they meant; she only knew that this moment was a turning point in her life—for good or ill—and there was no going back.
She turned her eyes up and addressed the Director. "Thank you," she mouthed.
For one thing was clear to her, this meeting, as Magorian had said, was fated. Harry reached out and squeezed her hand, and she took comfort that he had recognized this moment for what it was, as well.
"I will take you to Severus Snape, but the journey will not be easy," Magorian warned.
"That's all right," Harry said as he and Hermione quickly began packing up their resting site. "We're thankful for your help."
Hermione pulled her backpack up around her shoulders, "Yes, thank you," she said enthusiastically. "We're ready now."
Magorian turned to his ranks. "Bane, you will accompany us. The rest of you go back to your duties. I will return soon. Look to Zyan as leader should there be a need."
Zyan, a roan coloured centaur with shoulder length hair stepped out from amongst the others, while Bane, a handsome chestnut centaur with short curly hair made his way gracefully over to his leader.
Bane's displeasure was thinly veiled, and Harry remembered that Bane had once tried to incite some of his fellow centaurs to harm him and Hermione when, in their fifth year Hermione had cleverly tricked the evil Dolores Umbridge into the Forest in order to save Harry from Umbridge's Cruciatus Curse. Hermione's pointed look in Harry's direction told him she remembered, too.
"We will have to travel far into the Forest. There is a safe house, built long ago by Albus Dumbledore to be used at need by anyone seeking his protection from danger. The wizard you are seeking now resides there.
"Some of our scouts found him there shortly after the final battle. They would have killed him as a trespasser, but he was severely injured. And our laws do not allow us to kill any creature in such a state. We did all we could to revive him—with some success. But, the snake bite wounds he sustained are magical and slow in healing.
"Severus Snape has said he could heal them with the proper potion, but he cannot risk his health in going after the ingredients needed. And our council determined it would not be prudent, in the aftermath of war, for us to leave our Forest."
Hermione felt white hot anger surge up in her heart at this last statement. How could they be so heartless? Harry sensed her anger and put a restraining hand to her shoulder.
"We have heard his story, and seen the truth of it in the stars, so we do what we can for him." Magorian paused, looking off into the Forest. "But it is not enough. Perhaps the two of you can do more."
Hermione and Harry did not know how to answer. So they nodded solemnly.
"Come," Magorian said with a wave of his hand. "I wish to get you to the safe house before night fall."
With that, the group stepped out of the clearing and into the close darkness of the Forest proper.
Even though Magorian and Bane were excellent guides, who chose the easiest possible route to their destination, there were still the natural obstacles to overcome. Besides, the ever-present nettles, there was the uneven ground covered with tree roots—some of which were as tall as Hermione. So there was a lot of climbing and fancy footwork necessary to navigate their path.
Exhaustion was not long in coming to the two would-be rescuers. Magorian and Bane, on the other hand, did not seem at all bothered by the rigours of the trip. And Bane was openly derisive about Harry and Hermione's discomfort.
"What is wrong, Children of Men? Is the Forest too much for you?" Bane's voice was smooth and soft, but his intent was made clear by the malicious glittering of his eyes.
"Bane," Magorian said smoothly, yet authoritatively.
Harry and Hermione were too tired to even feel indignant let alone show it by word or deed.
By the end of the trip, the two novice forest trekkers were mute with misery. Then, like a sudden ray of sunshine through a bank of storm clouds, the small group stepped into a clearing. And there stood what Harry and Hermione could only assume was Dumbledore's safe house.
It was a small, two story cottage built of grey stone. The windows were mullioned and adorned by rust-coloured shutters. The door was a big, wooden affair with an iron ring for a door handle. Harry and Hermione could feel the magical wards surrounding the house and its immediate grounds.
"These protective spells are strong," Harry murmured as he pulled his wand.
"They are," Magorian said in lowered voice. "But you will not need your wand."
With an open hand to the side of his mouth, Magorian boomed," Severus Snape, it is I, Magorian and party! Let down the wards!"
Hermione watched as a shimmering golden cylinder, reaching from treetops to ground, appeared all about the grounds. Its sudden appearance made her jump.
Harry breathed a soft, "Incredible!"
"He is most likely in the garden out back," Magorian said as he led the way.
"This place has a garden?" Harry asked.
Magorian nodded. "It is one of Dumbledore's personal touches."
Hermione giggled, "That would be very like him."
"Indeed," the centaur agreed with only the second small smile of the day.
Bane remained stoic.
The garden was breath-taking. The center of it was a weathered grey, wooden wishing well surrounded by small, detailed stone wood nymphs and water sprites charmed to frolic around it playfully.
The flowerbeds, riotous with colour, were arranged in wedges about the well, with multi-colored stone pathways delineating them. There were delicate roses in every hue, cheerful poppies, fragrant honeysuckle, homely daisies, and sprays of baby's breath bordering each plot.
Separate from the flowers was a kitchen garden filled with herbs, lettuces, carrots, beans, peas, and every other vegetable imaginable.
The back garden wall was covered in deep green ivy. And as the group approached it, Hermione could see a bird sanctuary off to her right, complete with a large stone bird bath charmed to refill itself, and several feeders nailed to stakes around it. Several varieties of birds were busy at both bath and feeders.
To her left was a wrought iron set of lawn chairs and table. The chairs were well padded and upholstered in bright tropical flowers and birds. The pattern was bold and colorful—very eccentric—very Dumbledore.
"Good evening," said a silky, deep voice coldly.
Harry and Hermione spun around to find themselves facing the object of their search … their host … Severus Snape.
He was pale and thinner, if possible, than they remembered him from their school days. He was wearing his traditional, black teacher's robes, but just beneath the high collar could be seen clean, white bandages wrapped about his throat.
Hermione suppressed a shudder at sight of them. She knew that underneath were Nagini's bites.
Harry stepped forward. "Sir, we are very glad to see you."
Snape eyed him coolly. "I really rather doubt that, Potter … unless you are only looking forward to turning me over to the Ministry.
"No!" Hermione countered, as she joined Harry. "You misunderstand us. We have come to help you."
Snape turned his severe gaze on her. "Ah, Miss Granger," he said with mock politeness. "I presume you are the brains behind this expedition … as usual."
Hermione glared him down. "Actually, sir," she spat. "Harry and I both engineered our search for you. Something told us you were alive and we couldn't just leave you to your fate …"
"How very honourable of you, Miss Granger." Snape cut her off acidly. "But now you've found me, what do you intend to do with me?" There was challenge in his eyes, but Harry and Hermione knew he was only asking if they were intending to let the Ministry decide his fate.
"You needn't worry about the Ministry, sir," Harry said as mildly as he could. "They know whose side you were really on. I've shown them the memories you gave me when …" He paused a moment, looking at the ground uncomfortably. "As far as they are concerned you are a hero. I convinced them to let Hermione and I look for you …"
But Snape was clearly agitated. "You took my memories to the Ministry officials?" His voice was dangerously quiet, his glare piercing.
Hermione felt confused. Hadn't Snape wanted to be exonerated? Hadn't he expected Harry to use the memories to tell his story?
"Of course!" Harry exclaimed. "I had to as proof of my story. Surely you knew …"
Snape was, if possible, paler now. "Of course," he averred, his face returning to its usual unreadable mask. "There was nothing else you could do … no other way."
Harry cleared his throat. "If it makes you feel any better, I did … well, edit the memories, so that only the absolutely necessary information was left."
Snape looked sharply at him. "I didn't think they needed to see everything," he mumbled, his eyes cast to the ground, his face tinged with red.
Snape visibly relaxed. "Indeed … That was judicious of you," he said stiffly. Harry looked embarrassed
Hermione turned away, pretending to be observing the birds gathered at the sanctuary. Her face was wreathed in smiles. Snape had all but thanked Harry and complemented him into the bargain! Would wonders never cease?
"Won't you sit down?" Snape asked. The mock politeness was back. "Magorian, Bane can I offer you anything?" Now his tone was more polite, but only slightly so.
"No, thank you," Magorian answered. "We will only stay long enough to find out if we can be of further assistance."
Harry and Hermione sat wearily down in the pushily padded chairs. Snape summoned a tray of refreshments from the kitchen. A teak wood tray bearing tea and biscuits, cheese, and fruit floated to the table.
Snape did not eat, but his two guests set to immediately. No one spoke for several moments. Then …
"What is the potion you need, sir, to complete your healing?" Hermione asked without preamble.
Snape regarded her bemusedly. "Straight to the point, then, Miss Granger?"
Hermione reddened. "It's just that you must be in pain, sir. Surely you must wish to be free of it … and the threat of infection."
"Of course, Miss Granger. How very astute of you," he said with a smirk. "But it is not to be so simple as all that. I must brew the potion that is to ultimately make me well."
"Then we will brew it, of course. When can you be ready to leave? We'll go to Hogwarts, make some sense of your potions room and brew the potion."
Snape laughed derisively. "Surely you cannot mean for me to travel. I assure you I am unable to do so." His words were clipped, angry. "No, the potion ingredients will have to be brought to me for brewing—and soon," he said darkly.
Hermione felt a sudden, unexplainable pain shoot through her. "You are in danger otherwise?" she asked in soft alarm. She heard Harry shuffle his feet beside her.
Both Snape and Hermione ignored him. Snape's eyes narrowed distrustfully. "I cannot imagine what would prompt that look of concern on your face, Miss Granger," he said tersely. "I know it cannot be concern for my well-being. Perhaps, being the perfectionist that you are, you do not wish to have your mission botched by something so inconvenient as me expiring."
"How dare you suggest such a thing!" Hermione exploded like a volcano. She felt Harry's hand on her arm, but she shook him off. "You don't know me, sir! You've no right to think the worst of me … no right and no cause!" she spat through clenched teeth.
For a split second, Snape looked as though he'd been slapped, but then his sourly sarcastic expression dropped back into place. "Really, Miss Granger, control yourself," he said in bored tones.
"Hermione …" Harry whispered his warning.
Hermione glanced daggers at him for only a moment before returning her attention to her unperturbed former professor. "The fact is, I was concerned, but I see now that I needn't have bothered. If you've enough energy to think up such a ridiculous charge against me, then you cannot be in any immediate danger. Don't worry, I will not trouble you with my concern again!"
Snape's face was unreadable. "Thank you," he mocked. "You've set my mind at ease. Now, if we could move on to more important subjects …"
"Rather," Hermione agreed acerbically.
She turned to Magorian and Bane, who looked completely undisturbed by the scene being played out before them. "Perhaps, Magorian, you and Bane would be so kind as to lead Harry out the Forest, so that he can get back to Hogwarts to collect the necessary ingredients and tools for Professor Snape's potion."
"Hermione," Harry said, surprise on his face. "Do you mean to stay here?" His eyes spoke volumes of disapproval.
"Of course!" Hermione countered.
"I don't recall inviting you," Snape broke in nastily.
Hermione spun around to face him. "We have a potions room to set up, and I will need time to read about the potion if I am to assist you in its brewing. Besides, I can fix meals and take over household duties. You, sir, need your rest from the looks of you."
He glared at her. "I thought you would waste no more of you concern on me!" he snapped.
"It's not concern," Hermione retorted coolly. "It's just common sense!"
"Fine," Snape said smoothly, but his eyes were still snapping. "Mister Potter, you will return to Hogwarts tomorrow morning with a list of my making. That is, if Magorian can spare you a guide."
Magorian inclined his head in assent. "One of us will be here early in the morning. Until then, good evening to all." And he and Bane disappeared behind the back garden wall.
"Come with me," Snape said shortly.
Harry and Hermione felt exhausted suddenly, as Snape led them into the cottage by way of the kitchen door.
The kitchen was small and stone-floored. A little table sat under the window looking out into the garden. There was a small wood stove with oven and accompanying wood box, and an ice box charmed to stay cold. It even had a freezer up top.
"How do you get food, sir?" Harry asked.
"There are enough supplies laid in her for two people to live on for six months. And the centaurs have been kind enough to bring me the occasional rabbit or deer. And, of course, there's the garden. It's charmed to produce prolifically."
Snape led them through the well-ordered pantry, which was chock full of reduced packages of non-perishable food, into the dining room. It, too, was stone-floored, but a colorful carpet kept the chill out. And there were woodland animal themed tapestries on the wood paneled walls by way of decoration.
"I have not eaten in here," Snape said matter-of-factly.
Through the double glass doors leading out of the dining room, was a small entryway and the front door. Snape waved a negligent hand at the wall sconces, and they ignited. He opened yet another set of double doors to their right to reveal the library. Hermione's eyes widened appreciatively.
"I thought you'd like this room." Snape smirked, but there was no malice in his words. Harry grinned.
"It's wonderful," Hermione sighed.
And to the consummate bookworm it was. Two walls consisted wholly of dark wood shelves which reached from floor to ceiling. They were filled with books of every description, both magical and Muggle. Hermione's hands itched to run themselves over the spines of the books nearest her. But she didn't dare to do so in front of her hovering host.
A third wall was almost all bookshelves, except for the built in fireplace, with its heavy mahogany mantle and cheerily crackling fire.
The fourth wall was all windows, affording a view of the Forest and plenty of natural light to read by during the day. And in the middle of the room, there were comfortable tapestried chairs in subtle reds and browns, and reading tables adorned with candlesticks for night reading.
It was the most perfect private reading space Hermione could ever imagine. And Harry had to tug at her to get her to leave that glorious room.
Across the entry way, Snape led his guests to the living room, a long, rectangular space that was full of light and had an air of homey comfort to it. On one end of it was a fireplace, set before by a long, red leather couch and low coffee table. Two wing back chairs were on either side of the walk-in fireplace. Its hearth was green soapstone, its mantle of carven oak.
The other end of the room held yet another couch of blue velvet, which was placed against one wall. Centered in the area was a wooden card table with chairs. The end wall was all windows, as in the library. And between the two room ends were yet another set of double doors leading to a stone porch fitted with comfortable wicker furniture.
"Why, this cottage is just wonderful!" Hermione enthused. "Surely, Professor Dumbledore used it for more than just a safe house."
"Indeed, he did," Snape said tightly. "It was his get-away, as well. He often came here over the summers."
Hermione felt mortified by her own tactlessness. How could she mention Dumbledore so casually? "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to bring up …" she began.
"No matter," Snape countered quickly. "I'll show you to your rooms."
Harry and Hermione followed him up the oak, carpeted staircase and onto the wood-floored hallway. "This is my room," Snape said, pointing to a closed door, nearest the head of the stairs. "There are three others. You may choose which two you both want. The fourth room will become the potions room."
Harry and Hermione nodded in understanding.
"I am tired now. I am going to my room to rest. I do not wish to be disturbed."
"Yes, sir," the two intoned automatically. And he slipped into his room without another word.
Hermione ended up choosing a large, airy room with sea green walls, cream coloured carpet, and a large four-poster bed with a sunshine yellow coverlet.
Harry's room was done in dove grey and cream.
But neither of them really concerned themselves with anything but their beds at that moment. Tired from their trip and first meeting with their unwilling host, they each took to their beds for a much needed rest.
Hermione fell asleep thinking of Snape's pale, edgy face. It had been etched in pain. And despite her vow not to be concerned about him, she found she was anyway.
She knew he would chide her for such weakness. "Well, that's just tough, PROFESSOR," she murmured defiantly, as she rolled over and hugged a pillow to her. "You might be able to stop me expressing my true thoughts, but you can't invade my mind."
But she was wrong, for the disapproving face of Severus Snape continued to haunt her, even in her dreams.
