CHAPTER TEN—Ambushed
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The group tumbled out of the bookstore into the snowy street, each with varying amounts of purchases.
"There's Granger and the Weasleys!" someone exclaimed from the south end of town.
Camera flashes and feet crunching in the ice followed the students all the way towards the black gates. Ever since the fall of Voldemort, the Daily Prophet had kept a post in Hogsmeade, offering a Hogwarts column. Ron and Hermione made up seventy percent of the reports—usually a report on how well the Gryffindor Quidditch team fared took up the most space. The journalists nearly lost their minds whenever Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Twice, visited the school. Whenever he and Ginny went on dates, their pictures filled the front page.
"Granger—you don't have any plans to go back to Australia?"
"How is Christmas in the castle?"
"Miss Weasley, will Harry Potter be joining you for the holiday?"
The reporters multiplied, surrounding the war veterans. Lavender shrunk into Ron's shoulder; Hermione tried to forge ahead but couldn't get past.
"Granger, Miss Granger—why aren't you snogging Weasley over there, eh? Had a falling out?"
"Who is this mysterious blonde on Weasley's arm?"
Dicto-Quills and parchment hung in the air.
"What's that you got there—baby clothes?"
"Someone having a baby?"
Ginny shoved her brother forward. "Let's get out of here."
"I bet those baby nappies aren't for you, eh, Miss Granger?"
Mapping Professor Snape's dagger-like lips for six and a half years had come in handy for replication purposes. The sneer she gave Lavender earlier looked like a flinch compared to the silent rage she sent towards the head Hogsmeade reporter.
Ron pulled Lavender through the black gates first, Ginny close behind. Without looking back, Hermione flicked her wand at the winged boars, the iron creaking shut. Some of the quills fluttered through the bars before darting back to their locked-out owners.
"They're so bloody rude!" Ginny growled.
A great black dog came slushing through the snow. "No!" Hermione reprimanded. "Down, Fang!"
"Who was bein' rude?" Hagrid leaned on his spade. A lone tentacle waved out of the hole he had poked in the iced Black Lake.
"The Prophet!" The group continued their trek to the castle. Fang hopped circles around Hermione.
"Didn't you see them?" Neville asked. If he craned his neck, he could see the vultures dissipating, their quills tucked safely in their pockets.
The group tossed around diatribes, Hagrid lumbering up to the castle behind them. On the front steps they found a more pleasant group waiting to ambush them. The professors and the children were bundled up on the front steps.
Madam Pince tapped her foot next to Professor Flitwick. He tried to wave over Luna, but Madam Pince would not take the hint. Her face wrinkled with displeasure. "Why haven't they returned to normal?"
"The only person equipped to answer that is currently a small child," Filius replied, more terse than Hermione had ever seen him.
Sev and Minnie leapt through the snow. Rolanda, Septima, and Pomona shoved snow off the front steps, screeching about how cold it made their mittened hands.
"You were gone fo'ever, 'Mione," Severus said as he grabbed her wrist. He glanced at the bag in her other hand, but didn't care to look inside. "Was you shopping that whole time?"
"I wasn't gone that long, Severus," she chuckled, bending down to talk to him. "What were you doing?"
"We helped the house-elves pick out bedrooms!" Minerva said with pride. She hung off Neville's coat, barely making him stumble when she dug her heels into the slush.
Fleur emerged with baby Aurora bundled in every blanket and robe she could find—it looked like she was carrying around Professor Quirrel's turban. Professor Wrinkle followed, tapping Sybill's back to burp her.
"Look 'oo else is coming," Fleur cooed to the baby. Her platinum hair siphoned off her shoulder in the breeze. The rattle of Thestral-drawn carriages manifested.
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"Mum! Da!" Ginny called. She set her two bags down on the stone steps to throw her arms around her parents. Mr Brown shook Ron's hand while Mrs Brown clutched Lavender in an intense hug. Xenophilius Lovegood and Augusta Longbottom got out of the second carriage. Hermione tried not to stare at the giant vulture atop Mrs Longbottom's hat. Severus and the other kids gaped.
Fleur kissed Bill, with Aurora still in her arms.
"This is Professor Sinistra?" Bill asked, poking the chubby cheek sticking out of the bundle.
Fleur nodded. "Bill…I want a baby."
The scarred man's face turned blank with surprise. "Ah."
Hermione hugged Mr and Mrs Weasley. "Charlie and Percy couldn't get off, I'm afraid," Mr Weasley said. "They send their best."
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Severus observed Mr and Mrs Weasley closer than everyone else, studying their faces. He thought he might know these people. Mr Weasley tossed the end of his scarf over his shoulder as he offered his large hand to Severus. Hermione smiled and nodded at him behind Mr Weasley's back. Severus shook the man's hand, still not having said anything.
"Happy Christmas."
"Happy Ch'ismas," he mumbled back, trying to bury his chin into his neck.
"You look quite fine in your dapper suit and scarf," Mrs Weasley added, shaking his hand. "Remember to call me Molly."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, turning redder each second they gave him attention. Thankfully Ginny interrupted.
She held Minnie on her hip. The seven-year-old was almost too heavy. "Mum, Da, this is Minerva."
The head of Gryffindor shyly held out her tiny hand. Severus reclaimed Hermione's hand, flinching at how cold she was.
"'Mione, you need to wear gloves," he scolded with his little voice.
"You're so right," she affirmed. Then she was distracted by Bill's one-armed hug and a strange handshake from Mr Lovegood—Severus knew it had to be Luna's dad because they both wore Butterbeer caps for jewelry.
The little boy watched Hermione as everyone gave greetings and hugs. She would smile at each person but frown when no one was looking. Her coat sleeve wrinkled when she rubbed her left forearm.
Professor Flitwick introduced the parents to Rolanda, Pomona, and Septima personally. Mr Lovegood's blue eyes stared at little Vector and McGonagall.
Mrs Longbottom's "Happy Christmas," sounded like a demand.
"Why're you wearin' a duck?" Rolanda asked loudly.
Severus cringed behind Hermione—She shouldn' talk to her that way!
Neville nearly fainted.
"It's a vulture, not a duck," the eldest witch of the group replied, quite prim.
"What's you wearing it for?"
"My head hurts," Minerva whined quietly.
Severus was about to ask if she was alright when Ron yelled, "Harry! George!"
It felt like someone had clapped their hands around Severus's heart when he looked around and saw the man climbing out of a third carriage. Not the red-headed one—the one with glasses and black hair. Ginny launched into the man's arms. Hermione moved forward, and Severus followed, still staring at the newcomer. He clutched the back of Hermione's skirt; her hand was warm on the top of his hair.
Ron hugged the new man and asked some questions about the Ministry. Severus wanted to ask 'Mione what a ministry was, but he couldn't talk. His mouth was dry. His heart was pounding.
"'Mione!" The glasses-wearing wizard noticed Hermione.
"Harry!"
The two hugged and Severus wondered why it felt like there was an angry alligator in his stomach.
When Harry's green eyes looked at him, the alligator jumped and hid in his throat. Severus darted behind Hermione's waist.
"Is that…"
"Harry, this is Severus. Severus, this is Harry."
Giant, black eyes peeked out. The scaly alligator stuck in his neck wouldn't let him speak.
"Happy Christmas," Harry said, looking as jumbled up as Severus felt.
The little boy retreated further into Hermione's shadow. Harry and Hermione traded looks that weren't angry, but weren't happy, either.
Ginny dragged Harry over to see Minnie and Septima. Severus could breathe again. His hair tickled his ears as Hermione ruffled it.
He didn't know who this Harry person was, but he didn't like feeling so…so confused when he looked at him. Part of him wanted to run away and hide; the other part told him to remember to be nice. That those green eyes were eyes to be nice to. But why? The color green wasn't so special. In fact, he thought brown was the color pretty eyes should be.
"Let's all go inside, then," Madam Pince ordered.
"Yes, please," Molly added. The matriarch shuffled the little professors inside, passing Professor Wrinkle and baby Trelawney. Severus didn't notice Professor Walter wouldn't look at Septima until Luna mentioned it to Hermione.
"He avoids her like Wrackspurts avoid Luxembourg," Luna whispered.
"I suppose so…" The two witches watched the Ancient Runes professor dither, letting the children pass him.
"I think he fancies her. Secretly."
"I believe it. They were together all the time before…you know."
P'ofessor Walter likes Septima? Severus was shocked. But—but Septima is a—a kid! And he's an adult!
Now his head was starting to hurt too. "Thanks, Minnie," he grumbled, sticking his tongue out at her.
"What?"
"You made my head hurt. And so does my neck." He let go of 'Mione's hand, falling back to speak with Minnie.
"I did not!" The two struggled up the Great Staircase, their tongues wagging out of their mouths. They were in the back of the group, behind Hermione and Luna. That Harry and Ginny and Ginny's da were waiting at the top of the stairs.
"Do you remember what I sent in my last letter?" Harry asked.
"Something about being nominated as head of the new Defence party, I believe." Severus could tell she was teasing. Everyone knew 'Mione remembered anything she ever read.
"Turns out, they want me to offer some ideas of who should be lower ministers." One more flight of stairs separated the group from the eighth-year's suite.
"I don't know many politicians except for you."
"I want you to be in the Wizengamot," Harry chuckled.
"Wha's a Wizzagamut?" Sev asked Minerva. She shrugged; the two continued to eavesdrop.
"Come on, Hermione, we need someone to re-make the Muggle Studies program. You're the only one I can think of."
"Harry, you're not a minister yet. I'm sure there are other, more qualified educators than me. I haven't even graduated yet."
"No way, 'Mione—you're the smartest person I know, and you know all about Muggles. You always criticized the stuff Professor Burbage had to teach, and the OWL exams. Now here's your chance to improve it!
"Remember S.P.E.W.? And how you put together the DA? You've always wanted to be a teacher. You tutored me and Ron, Colin, Neville—you'll be great at it."
"When did you become such a persuasive politician?" she asked.
Harry laughed. "Kingsley has been training me."
"You know, you've always been a leader, but I never thought you as ego-maniacal enough to think you could run a country." Severus wondered what e-go-ma-naya-kal meant.
"Wait, wait, wait," Hermione said, "you actually want to be the minister?"
The boy shrugged. "Maybe. Yeah. We haven't had such a great track record lately."
Arthur shook his head, grinning at the Boy Who Lived Twice.
"I thought you wanted to be an Auror?" Hermione pressed.
Severus and Minerva had to be diligent to avoid Hermione's heels.
"I figure if I can get things set to rights, there won't be too many Dark wizards to catch."
Hermione paused on the stairs; Minnie and Sev ran into the back of her legs. She looked down at them in surprise. "Sorry," she chuckled.
Down the hall, Hagrid hunched to make it through the door to the eighth-years' common room.
"Well isn't this lovely?" they heard Mrs Brown ask.
"I also figure," that Harry continued, "that you and me get in now, work our way up. I run for Little Winging, since there aren't many wizards there, and you go for the Putney area. Then you go for either magical creature rights or reforming education. What do you think?"
She shook her head like she was humouring him, shucking off her coat.
The common room was packed. Luna Summoned pillows for the little ones to sit on.
Harry continued to pester. "You know you want to fix Hogwarts—make sure there aren't any more Quirrels or Umbridges coming in and out."
Hermione pulled her hand through her hair. "I didn't start on this Transfiguration accreditation to become a politician."
Ginny jerked her head towards baby Aurora in Fleur's arms. "At this rate, Hermione might be offered that teaching position sooner than expected."
Minerva unbuttoned Sev's frock coat for him, warning him to take off his wet shoes near the door. A violent twitch in his neck made him cringe. Hermione and Harry continued to debate, walking towards the couches.
Minnie gasped. "Sevvie, wha's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
"My neck hurts."
"What is that?" Septima asked, horrified.
Severus felt something on his neck that he hadn't noticed before—he was too short to look into any of the mirrors. It was attached below his ear, almost on the back of his neck, something smooth, but rumply.
Sev tried to pry the icky thing off but had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't yell. He kept digging his fingers underneath and cringed every time.
"Don't do that!" Minerva pulled his hand, dragged him forward. "You're hurt! 'Mione will know what to do!"
"Minnie, no, I don't want 'Mione to—"
Pomona and Rolanda watched Minerva drag Severus by the arm across the common room. By the time Minerva had forced Severus across the room—he was digging his heels into the floor—Ginny and Harry had wandered off to the windowsill, so Hermione talked to Mr Weasley about mobile telephones. Their conversation was interrupted by a high pitched, Scottish voice.
"'Mione, 'Mione! Sevvie is hurt!"
"What happened?" she asked. She and Arthur searched for blood, but didn't see any on the boy.
"Look at his neck!" Minerva shoved him closer to Hermione. "I don't know what happened!"
Severus might have been hit with Petrificus Totalus, he was so still.
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Hermione put a hand on his hair. He trembled. "It's alright, Minerva."
"But he said it hurt! He said it!"
Severus shook his head. His night-dark hair slapped his nose.
"Does it hurt, Severus?" Hermione leaned forward in her seat.
"Mine twinges sometimes," Arthur muttered to Hermione. "He hasn't said anything before?"
Severus tried to make himself tiny. "I—I'm fine," he panicked, yanking away from Hermione. His hand clasped his neck, hiding it from everyone. His face turned red.
Hermione stood up and Severus jumped back.
"Why don't we go find another book to read?" Hermione asked. Her hand angled towards him. Severus wrapped his fingers around all of hers.
Minerva bit her lower lip and bounced on the balls of her feet. Mr Weasley slapped the seat of Hermione's chair a few times. "Why don't you hop up here, young lady, and we'll talk about cats. I bet you know quite a bit about them."
Hermione watched the little witch climb up in the chair. Severus looked miserable at her side. Screwing her liver out with a pair of pliers would have hurt only a little bit more than looking at this agonized boy. He pressed his cheek into the back of her hand.
Their strides were uneven as Hermione led Severus to her bedroom. Professor Snape had always walked much faster than everyone else, and now he struggled to keep up. Hermione shut the door behind them. Snow colored sunlight flitted down through the windows.
Giant, black eyes looked at everything but Hermione. He clutched his leather gloves and shuffled his socked feet. How could he be so sad and still be so cute and sweet?
I guess he doesn't stay cute and sweet, now does he? Hermione made sure to smile at him. "Let's look at the Potions book. Want to?" Instead of smiling back, he tilted his head, curling around his snake bite. He blinked several times, cringing, as he tottered towards the bookshelf.
Hermione stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Severus." She crouched in front of him. The two were eye to eye. "Does it hurt?"
He shook his head. His hand jumped up to grab at the monster in his skin.
Hermione stood and led him to the washroom. Severus hesitantly followed. She picked him up and set him on the sink. His mouth opened as he reached towards the mirror to touch the red sprawl reflected there. He pushed his black hair out of the way and tried to see all around. Tiny fingers slid over the ugly, terrifying scar tissue. His breathing quickened and his lips trembled.
In the mirror, Hermione's face was grim. "If you don't like it, you can cover it up. That's why Mr Weasley wears a scarf all the time."
"It's scary," he whispered. Diamond tears caught in his eyelashes.
Hermione trapped him in her warm arms. "Shh, why is it scary?"
Severus shook his head against her collarbones. He was sniffling, clutching her sweater as he knelt on the marble sink. Hermione's eyes began to tingle. "It's alright, Severus." She picked him up, cradling him in her arms all the way to the bed.
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The little boy curled up beside Hermione, clutching her jumper. Hermione stroked his hair as he wept.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
He nodded, scooting closer. Hermione curled around him. He felt ashamed, crying like a girl in front of 'Mione. His head hurt, Rolanda was mean, and nobody but 'Mione and Minnie liked him. And now, instead of just one ugly thing on his arm, he had another ugly, scary thing on his neck.
"Wha's wrong with me?" he choked.
"Nothing."
"I know there's something wrong with me!" He buried his face in her chest. Scratchy wool irritated his nose. "None of the others have an ugly thing on them! Why do I have to have two?"
Hermione shushed him again and he knew he wasn't going to get an answer.
"Shouldn' I know where these ugly things came from?" he asked, almost hysterical. "I know I'm fo'getting things—why 'Landa hates me, and why Mona is scared of me, and why I have this thing—" He clutched his Dark Mark without opening his prickly eyes.
He began to sob. "I know my da would be mad, then he'd be mad at Mum, and he'll be even more mad b'cause I can't 'member why it's there!"
'Mione hugged him tight, squeezing him into her chest. She was warm and smelled like Christmas candy. "No one's going to hurt you," she whispered.
"How do you know?" he bawled. He was scared—he knew he could get hurt, that there were people who wanted to hurt him. Someone had burned this tattoo into his arm, and Da put out his cigarettes on his shoulder when he was bad.
"I won't let them." Her voice was getting high-pitched.
Severus squeezed his ears flat against his skull. Everything, thoughts and things he should remember but couldn't, like heavy shadows, was piling in his brain and he couldn't handle it. Everyone always hurts me! he screamed in his head.
He remembered a large green snake coming towards him—hanging upside down while people laughed all around—his entire body shaking on the floor—
The little boy threw himself into Hermione. He shook his head into her shoulder like a drill, gasping without any words coming out.