AN: Thank you to my betas. As ever, it would be a much lesser work with out them. Apologies for any delay on review replies, I'm out of town and don't always have access to a comp. Darn it.
"Walk me through it all one more time, Minerva," Harry said. His Aurors had done the preliminary investigation. Harry was following up. They had nothing. Nothing but the note, and that hadn't said much.
Minerva set her tea cup down on the desk in Harry's office. "Well, it's rather embarrassing to admit-" She was interrupted by the office door flying open. Harry's assistant was yelling at the man in the doorway that he couldn't just barge in there. Uselessly, since he already had. Harry stared at the man, stunned. And then he began to feel hope for the first time since Minerva had Flooed him yesterday morning.
"Ron!"
"What happened to her, Harry? The papers say it was Death Eaters. What are you doing about it? Where have you looked? What clues do you have?"
"When is that last time you saw her, Ron?"
"At Snape's party. Three weeks ago."
"She didn't say anything to you about receiving threats? Or feeling unsafe?"
"No, nothing. She was just Hermione, like always."
"Come sit. Tea? Minerva was about to retell what happened."
Minerva went on to explain that Hermione Granger had finished up her classes for the day on Friday, eaten her meal, chased a few students out of darkened corners after curfew while making her rounds, said good night to the Grey Lady around eleven o'clock as she entered her quarters, and was never seen again. No one noticed anything was amiss until her first class yesterday morning. Minerva had followed the sound of students run amok and found the class completely unsupervised. She'd immediately gone to see if Hermione had taken ill and found her room was empty. The bed was made. Everything was neat as a pin. The only thing out-of-place was the note-a note dated Friday. Hermione had been missing for two days already, and no one had noticed.
"Five million Galleons? Bloody hell! Who has that kind of money? Ransom wasn't exactly their style, was it? Are we sure they're real Death Eaters?" said Ron.
"I think so," answered Harry. "I think the intent is to bankrupt the Ministry."
"What makes you think that?" asked Minerva.
"Something Albus said when I was talking to his portrait earlier."
"What are we supposed to do?" asked Ron.
"I think we should do exactly what the note says."
"What? Wait for their portkey and send one man alone with a Goblin Promissory Note? Anyone who gets their hands on that Note will be able to take it to any Gringotts in the world and have it honored. How do we know they won't kill her anyway? How do we know she's not already dead?"
"We don't, Ron," Harry said quietly. His voice broke.
"So, who's going to go? Me or you?"
"I think there's a better choice. Someone with experience with Death Eaters. Someone who won't flinch if the situation turns deadly. Someone who can think on his feet and has skills we could only dream about."
"Snape," said Ron.
"Snape," confirmed Harry.
"Oh, good heavens!" exclaimed Minerva.
The Floo in the drawing room activated, and a man shot out of the flames and streaked across the drawing room in a mass of flapping black robes.
"Severus! Good, you've- Come back here!"
"No!"
"Snape! You stop right now!"
"Fuck you, Albus!"
The man hit the foyer tiles at a dead run and nearly slewed into the wall as he turned and fled up the stairs.
"You coward!" shouted the portrait before leaving his frame in a huff to return to the Ministry.
Severus Snape felt the tingling in the wards and knew his doom was upon him. He sat on his bed holding his head in his hands as Winky popped into the room. He'd done his level best to stick his head in the sand to no avail.
"Yes?"
"Harry Potter is here to see you, Master. And his friend too. And the Headmistress. And a couple of them Aurors, as well."
He sighed. "Send them into the Library, Winky, and offer them some tea. Tell them I should be with them shortly."
When the elf popped out of the room, Snape turned to look at his reflection in the mirror. This was it then. Again. His life never seemed to lack these moments when it came down to acting on his instincts and running for the hills, or doing what others made him do which only ever added to his own pain and suffering.
All because he was afraid people would know he was actually a coward. It was his secret shame. He had lived his entire adult life in hell because the people that knew his secret had wielded such terrible power over him.
He had mistakenly thought he was free. He thought he could rise above it all and reinvent himself, but his past had had itself installed in his drawing room. Permanently. Snape could dance to its tune, or he could admit he was a fraud and be spared. It wasn't like he was losing much. He had things. He wouldn't lose his things; just his war pension-and probably the tens of thousands of Galleons that had come with the award-but he had enough money hidden away or invested wisely that he wouldn't starve. He'd just be alone. A pariah. Not so different, when you looked at it.
Even the fact that a young woman was in trouble due to his own stupidity was horribly familiar.
Snape set his shoulders and stood up. If he was going to go to his doom, he would do so clean. He headed for the bathroom to take a shower and shave.
Harry was pacing back and forth in the Library. His two men were positioned discretely against the wall awaiting instruction. Minerva was seated calmly at a table sipping tea. Ron was out in the hall staring at that weird, melted stone sculpture. From the look on his face, he couldn't make heads or tails out of it either.
After what seemed like forever, Harry heard a disturbance at the door and looked up.
There he was, as darkly imposing as ever.
Harry felt an instant of intense relief, and even Ron let out a reassured sigh. He had an almost irrational sense that, despite everything, life would be fine now. He practically ran over to the doorway.
"Severus! I am so glad you agreed to see us. I'm sure everything will be fine now that you're here." He held his hand out, and Snape shook it.
"Mr. Potter. How can I be of service?"
"That was a wonderful thing you just did," said Minerva as she came back into the room. Snape sat at a reading table looking like the picture of abject misery.
"That was probably one of the stupidest things I have done in a life filled with stupid things."
"Nonsense. You gave them hope. And I suspect you might have repaired a broken friendship. At least, they were certainly chattering away as they left."
"I could get the girl killed, Minerva. That seems to be my forte."
Minerva put a hand on his arm. "I believe that life happens for certain reasons, Severus. Perhaps this is a chance to do things differently, to take a past mistake and turn it into a future blessing. They came to you because of your past. They don't know your whole story-no one does-but what they see gives them hope. What I see gives me tremendous hope." She sat down in the next chair. "Severus, if something happens to her, it won't be your fault. It will be the fault of the men who took her. We don't even know if she's still alive. I understand your fears, but perhaps the reason why you accepted is because you've already changed and didn't notice?"
"No. I'm pretty sure I would notice if I suddenly stopped trying to wet myself, Min."
"Bah. You haven't run to the toilet even once since you accepted."
"I'm just numb from my own stupidity. I'm sure it will kick in any moment."
"Well, until then, what does a lady need to do to get something to eat around here?"
"Actually, she has to order it herself. The house-elves will only cook one meal no matter how many I say are dining. Winky!"
"All right, Severus. This is it. The portkey came this morning. It is keyed to activate when pressed against a valid Goblin Promissory Note. We've been unable to determine where it will send you, but we know it can't be reactivated." Harry took a deep breath and looked over at Ron, who nodded encouragingly. "I know I'm probably going to sound like a hopeless prat, and you probably have most of these devices already-hell, you might have invented them for all I know-but I took the liberty of requisitioning some items that might be of use to you."
"Did you? Interesting. I might as well see what you brought, since you went to the trouble."
"Well, there's this." He handed over a bent key. "This will bring you and Hermione straight back here." He held up a large, red marble, and then handed that over as well. "This is a tracking device. We'll be able to tell exactly where you go by looking on any map using a special spell." Ron held up a world atlas. "Also, we have this." He handed over a large wooden block. It looked like an oversized toddler toy. "If for some reason you cannot portkey out, or you need back up. Just throw this on the ground. It will provide a shield and send up a pre-set Patronus so we can move in to your location." Harry blanched and teared up. "If-If she's dead. Use the block. We will need to secure the crime scene."
Snape looked at the crestfallen young man that he had spent his life trying to protect. He felt none of his old animosity. In fact, the boy's obvious adoration was like an addictive drug. No one had ever trusted him so blindly or held such a high opinion of him before. Snape had walked into his library the other day intending to confess. But seeing the effect his mere presence had on Potter and Weasley had thrown him off his game. He'd heard the most ridiculous words come out of his mouth. It was about to happen again. He just knew he was about to say something stupid as he clumsily juggled the objects into one arm and reached out and gripped Potter's shoulder.
"She'll be alright, Harry. I promise."
"Yes, sir. I'm sure you're right."
Ron came over and just stood close to his old friend, offering support through his proximity.
"Good Luck, Snape," said Ron. "We'll be right here waiting. If you need any help, just use that block to give us a shout."
Snape looked about the room at the twenty or so Aurors that were crammed into his library. They all stared at him with an absurd amount of confidence and high regard. He gave them all a brittle smile. It was supposed to have been a reassuring smile, a confident smile, but it had gone horrible awry when his bladder started to scream.
"Just give me a few moments, gentlemen. I need to make sure I have everything I need." Snape turned on his heel and walked out of the room. He managed to look calm and natural as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom. He fumbled with all the items Harry had given him. He'd never know just how grateful Snape was for each and every thoughtful gadget. Once inside, he carefully set them all down and then relieved himself. He stared at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands.
"You can do this, Snape. You're not the same man you were. No one is holding a wand to your head if you fail. No one is going to Crucio you, beat you, whip you, or humiliate you. The worst is in your past. If you die, you just get out of having to do whatever Dumbledore has in store for you. Besides, the girl would have been perfectly fine if you hadn't meddled. You owe her. Those starry-eyed pillocks are counting on you so get your arse out there and deliver the goods." He took a deep breath and set his shoulders. "Right. Here goes."
Snape strode back into the library. His cape billowed behind him, and his face was a mask of purpose. Harry was struck by the overwhelming confidence Snape exuded. He was in awe of the man. He looked over at Ron, and Ron smiled at him with that same goofy, happy smile he'd always shared and mouthed, 'Wicked.'
"Shall we get on with this, Potter? I have plans for this evening." The Aurors around the room were elbowing each other and nodding at Snape's blasé demeanor. All in a day's work for the Master Spy.
"Yes, sir. Here's your portkey and here's the Goblin Promissory Note. Just touch the two together and say 'Portus.'"
Snape pulled out his wand and gripped it tight as he took what looked like a small figurine of a dancing sprite. He looked at it curiously for a moment. Tucking the sprite in his hand he picked up the Note. "Is this real?"
"If it wasn't, we were afraid the portkey wouldn't work."
"Whose Galleons were staked?"
"Everyone's. It's the taxes the Ministry hadn't disbursed yet, nearly to the knut. It's almost time. The ransom note said to come at eight o'clock."
Snape lifted a brow and looked at the clock on the wall. It showed about twenty minutes to eight. Snape closed his hand around the figurine and the note, and with a disdainful 'Portus,' he disappeared with a pop.
"Bloody hell! He's got brass ones, doesn't he?" said one of the Aurors.
"Did he have all the stuff you gave him?" asked Ron.
Harry shrugged. "I'm sure he had them on him somewhere. I'm sure a spy would have tons of pockets to hide things."
"Oh, yeah. That makes sense. For a minute I was afraid he might have left without them."
"Don't be daft. If he left ours, it's only because he had better."
"Let's open that atlas and see where he landed."
Ron mumbled the spell.
Harry mumbled the spell.
Auror Higgins, when prompted by his boss, shouted the spell. He'd been the one to research it.
Nothing happened.
"You don't think…?"
"That they have some way of blocking our gadgets? Yeah. I do."
"This can't be good. He's on his own."
"Who better to handle it?"
"True."
Resting undisturbed by the sink in the bathroom lay all of Harry's gadgets, left behind in a moment of panic.
More fun is on the way! -signed, the Review Hoor.