Chapter 8: F.R.I.E.N.D.S
Hermione had rarely had occassion to visit Harry in his office at the ministry. The majority of magical animals did not have much love for the Aurors, feeling that they liked to police their lands, traditions and families too much. Hermione could understand their reasoning; the ministry had been very heavy handed in the past, but changes were slowly being made.
She looked around the office. It was smaller than her own but had large, double aspect windows. Harry had decided that a traditional office didn't suit him and so had done away with the usual filing units and desks and instead had two large, comfortable bean bag style chairs positioned in a corner. He had a large whiteboard taking up most of one wall that depicted various wizards on the ministry's most wanted list. There was a picture of a serious looking woman on the wall behind the bean bags who sat at a desk in a ministry office. Harry had ingeniously charmed it so that the files and paperwork he needed were kept behind the picture and the woman simply had to pass him the files he needed when requested.
Harry was looking at her oddly. She had expected him to laugh at her, or shout at her, or tell her she was ridiculous. But since she had asked him about Snape he had merely gawped at her and gone a funny shade of green. When five minutes later he still hadn't spoken she pushed the issue,
"He is isn't he ... alive. He must be, or you'd have told me so by now." Her eyes were wide and her heart felt like it was racing. She hadn't expected this, despite all her digging. Could her dreams really mean something?
"I...Yes." Harry mumbled shaking his head and sighing, "Sort of. He's here in the ministry, in the department of mysteries. I saw the unspeakables take him down there. He's not dead. But he is in a magical stasis somehow. We think he took some sort of potion before he went to meet Voldemort. He's been that way ever since the Shack. Every now and again they let me down there just to check he's still there and alive and they've not hurt him. You know...after everything that he did...I couldn't let them hurt him." Harry gave her a sheepish smile and took a breath before letting out a slight giggle, "Snape? No wonder you and Ron didn't work out if that's your type!"
"Shut up Harry!" Hermione responded, blushing bright red, "Nobody's been able to wake him? Nobody at all?"
"No. The potion must of been one of his own invention. There's no solution to it anywhere. We've had every half skilled potioneer in Britain come in for questioning and to help us brew, without details of why of course, but nobody's even made him twitch. He sneezed once...we thought that was progress. But it turns out he's allergic to Sunflowers. He was an excellent Wizard, he wouldn't of taken the potion if he hadn't also invented an antidote, but we've not been able to find it."
Hermione nodded sadly, "Thanks Harry. I should really go now. I'll see you and Ginny on Friday?"
"Definitely. Come around seven. Ron's coming and Neville. Teddy can't wait to see you, says you have to bring one of your pies."
Hermione laughed fondly. Her mind was swirling and her emotions were all over the place, but nothing would ever dampen her enjoyment of friday night dinners in Grimmauld place. Rare though they were now, what with everyones families and work commitments, they were the highlight of her life. Having all her closest friends, her family, together was bliss everytime.
