Chapter 10

Surprise Visit

Night came early to Spinner's End due to the thick dark clouds that lingered above, screening the earth from the brightness of the sun, and thunder rumbled low in the distance. Swallowing hard, Snape knew he had to return to Hogwarts in order to replenish his supply of potions if he had any hope of recovering completely. The dread of it took him over, but he whisked around, fastened his cloak, and exited the house. Years of torture under the Dark Lord had given him all the practice he needed to ignore the pain he now felt, but he refused to go through it without the help of one of his concoctions.

Braving the first sheets of hard, pouring rain outside, he Apparated to the thickest part of the Forbidden Forest that led to the castle gate, and he immediately cast a silent cloaking spell on himself. He was relieved that he had landed in a place with no rain, but he felt the frigid chill of the cool night air of Scotland whipping through his wet robes. Whispering a drying spell, his quiet voice interrupted the profuse silence of the woods surrounding him. He was unnerved by the absence of the normal hums and songs of nocturnal animals engaging in their usual springtime rituals.

The pungent odor of soured earth penetrated his nostrils, and he covered his mouth and his nose with part of his cloak. Quickly moving along the one lane ruts in the road, the fallow earth crunched beneath his feet, echoing in his aching head. Approaching the front gate, he looked through the clearing, hoping to see the welcome flickering lights of the castle, but there was only the silhouette of a massive lifeless building outlined in the night sky. Pulling open the heavy, iron gate, an overwhelming feeling of sadness and loss hit the back of his throat, and he took a moment to rest his forehead on the cold bars, fighting the growing nausea of reality hitting his stomach. Pushing forward, the stench of rot and decay became stronger the closer he got to the front lawn, but the bodies had already been removed by the Ministry. Only the blood stains of slaughtered innocence and the deafening silence of nothingness remained on that night, making him feel like he was the last wizard left in the world.

The Great Door was standing open when he approached, and inside the castle was complete darkness, dense with the mists of lost souls and settling fine dusts of mortar from the fresh wounds of war. The faint whispers of deceased former students, entering their tenure as first year ghosts, echoed in the distant corridors, and he quickened his pace. Feeling his way through the castle without light, he knew his route from having taken it since his first day there as a student, and he was careful to not trip over any ruins along the way. Once in the windowless circular stairs that wound downward to the dungeons, he lit his borrowed wand with a whispered 'Lumos', and easily found the door to his private chambers. He had not moved many of his things to the East Tower during his time as Headmaster because he had not planned to be there long. A smug grin crawled across his face when he saw his strong wards protecting his haven had not been broken.

His voice echoed in the hallway when he mumbled the password to the door, "Know-it-all".

Once inside, he paused, momentarily enjoying the familiar comfort of his rooms, and he sat in the chair behind his massive desk, exhaling as he looked around at his surroundings. Everything he saw held a memory of his life at Hogwarts and he did not want to leave it. Blocking the memories of lost students whose unmarked essays lay scattered on his desk, he shook their faces from his mind as he spelled open the wards he had placed on his desk.

He decided that while he was there, he would gather all of the things he wanted to take with him and shrink them so he could fit them all into his pocket. Knowing he had to work quickly, he rifled through his desk drawers and removed several important parchments from the side drawer. Slamming it shut, he stuffed the documents into his pocket, and opened the top drawer to remove his best quills. Blindly feeling inside for his things, his finger grazed something soft and foreign, but he shoved the quills into his pocket, and slammed the drawer shut.

Before leaving his chair, he looked back at the handle and slowly pulled it open. Reaching inside with his long fingers, he gently removed a neatly folded white linen handkerchief with the initials HJG embroidered on the corner in pink thread. His breathing hitched, and his mind came to a sudden halt when he recalled how it came to be in his possession. It had been on the night he had returned from a torture session with the Dark Lord. She had been at his door when he returned and he had been in crippling pain. That night all he had seen her as a brave, resilient, and radiant young witch. He had noticed how her amber eyes burned with youth, intellect, and confidence as she skillfully tended to his wounds. It was the first time he remembered admiring her and he had found her to be fiercely loyal and trustworthy at a time when he needed it most. Something about her had been different that night, or perhaps it was when he was most vulnerable that he allowed himself to look at her and see the breathtaking woman she had become.

The memory made him blush and he tried to convince himself that she had been reveling in seeing him in so much pain. She had been useful on a few other occasions, but on that particular night, he could not deny that she had acted solely out of genuine concern for him. Looking back, he remembered her gentle touch when she tended to his wounds and the determination she showed in proving herself trustworthy. Damn Gryffindor, he thought. He had so wanted to touch her cheek and thank her, but at the time he knew it would have been inappropriate. His sense of duty as a teacher, as well as a double agent kept him from feeling anything but animosity for anyone. However, she had been the exception. He focused on her beautiful eyes in his memory and they turned into the sad eyes of the young woman crying for him in the Shrieking Shack.

"Enough woolgathering!" He hissed, forcing the memory from his mind. He stood abruptly, shoving his chair away from him so hard that it feel over backward, and he shrank the desk and put it in his pocket.

He glanced once more at the handkerchief in his hand before violently stashing it in the bottom of his cloak pocket. He forced all thoughts of her from his mind and scanned the items in the room in order to decide what to shrink next. Raising what he knew to be her wand, he stood perfectly still, and rolled his eyes at the irony. "I will escape you, Miss Granger!" He commanded, speaking directly to the wand.

Within minutes, he shrank his vast bookcases with all the books still in them, as well as personal items and potions from his lav. His robes, all black, were miniaturized and stored in his pocket. Next, he moved into the Potions Lab and shrank every cauldron and ingredient he saw, including those in the storage closet. Pocketing each item as he went along, he came to the chair he had sat in the night Miss Granger had healed his wounds, and he shrank it, cussing under his breath while he reached down to pick it up.

The pain in his neck had begun to move down his body and he grimaced under its grasp. He quickly drank a Pepper Up potion, but knew he still wouldn't have the strength to walk back to the front gate, so he Disapparated from the spot where he stood, knowing that all the charms and enchantments were still broken that prevented Apparation. It would take years before the wards, enchantments, and charms to be repaired.

When he stopped spinning, he saw his reflection in the mirror hanging over the fireplace in his house on Spinner's End. He was taken off guard by the reflection of Minerva McGonagall sitting nervously in a chair behind him. He spun around to see her perched next to a cozy fire she had summoned in the fireplace after Flooing in uninvited.

Exhaling when he saw her, Snape warded the door behind him and removed his heavy cloak, keeping his back to the old witch as long as possible while he hung it on the rack. Before turning around, he closed his eyes, and mustered his patience.

He asked non-emotionally, "Do you make it a habit of breaking into the houses of dead Potions Masters or were you hoping to claim this property as a means of paying for the rebuild of our former school?"

Wringing her hands in front of her, she rose from her seat and took a few quick steps in his direction, but stopped before reaching him. "Severus, I am glad to see that having a near death experience has not changed you one bit. I am sorry about letting myself in, but I had to see for myself that you are alive."

He watched her ancient, wrinkled face as it twisted into a smile of relief, and her piercing blue eyes softened when she saw him. For a moment, he thought she was going to hug him, but he crossed the room to escape that possibility.

"I find it hard to believe, Minerva, that you would go to such lengths to simply see if I was…alright. What is the reason for your intrusion? I am, after all, the wizard who murdered Albus Dumbledore."
She interrupted his sentence. "Severus, I viewed the memories you gave Potter and I know that it was what Albus wanted you to do. I have not always understood his reasoning on things, but…I will be able to forgive you." Clutching her handkerchief, she twisted it in her hands, "There is an urgent matter I wish to discuss with you. I need your help..."

Interrupting her, his voice raised to a firm tone, "There is nothing left for me to help you with. I have paid my debt and I have done all that I am willing to do for the Order. My life no longer belongs to Dumbledore or you or any other entity. I am once again my own man. We won the war, now go and leave me in peace!"

She ignored his request when she continued, "We have accounted for everyone except Hermione Granger. Potter and Weasley insist that she saved your life in the Shrieking Shack and I hoped you had escaped…together."

Snape eyed the old woman closely. Together, he thought, and he was suddenly embarrassed that she may have been alerted to his fondness of the young witch. He listened to her words, careful to not appear too interested. "I have no idea where she is."

"We cannot find her and I have reason to believe she is in trouble. Albus felt her aura just as the sun rose after the final battle. He has spoken with her in her subconscious and she has broken the law. The Ministry believes she tried to…extinguish her light."

Snape swallowed hard and asked, "She attempted to…? I do not understand how such a bright young witch would do such a foolish thing. When I last saw her in the Shrieking Shack she was…" He stopped talking and checked his tone to a more firm one. "If this is true, she is exactly where she deserves to be!"

McGonagall approached him and spoke with silent authority. "I know that you tasted her tears when she administered the antivenin. She kissed you, Severus! Through her actions, a small part of her became a part of you and there is a chance your skills as an accomplished Legilimens could help locate her!"

Opening the door, he snapped, "Are you quite finished? I am very tired. It was only twenty-four hours ago that I almost died from a snake bite and I would appreciate some rest."

"I cannot imagine why you would not want to help the brightest witch you have ever had the pleasure of teaching! You can't possibly tell me you don't care about her in the least! The Ministry is adamant about finding her…"
"Fuck the Ministry!" He barked, "Good night, Minerva!"

The old witch spun around and quickly exited to the front porch, startled by the thundering slam of the door behind her.

Leaning against the wall inside, Snape found himself out of breath from pain, exhaustion, and embarrassment. Angry that Potter and Weasley had obviously reported every single detail of his apparent death to everyone who would listen, he was infinitely glad to be rid of McGonagall. Warding the door, he was unexpectedly overcome by all of the human emotions one could feel at once. He wanted to laugh and cry, but at the same time he wanted to punch a wall.

Before thinking better of it, Snape whispered aloud on a relieved exhale, "She is alive!"