A/N: Whew. I've been out of town working on a job site and haven't had quiet time to write. I hope this chapter is less confusing than I think it is...I promise not to write anymore while I'm on the road!

Chapter 10: Tangled Webs

"It was like finding out about Sirius. Like finding out I wasn't really alone after all…"

Harry was sitting on a fallen log at the edge of the lake, wedged between Ginny and Hermione. Ron stood a few steps in front of them while behind him the ghostly form of Fang, Hagrid's dog who had been lost in the Final Battle, frolicked, bounding through the water joyfully without disturbing a drop.

They were quiet, contemplating Harry's words. He had been telling them about his evening with Severus the night before, about the look on Severus' face when they had spoken of the sister he had never known.

"But does she know she's his sister?" asked Ron. "Why would she do this if she knew?"

"He doesn't think she knew while they were at Hogwarts," answered Harry. "There was never…well… anything…between them. No recognition, nothing."

"But he does believe she knows now, then?" asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head. "He says he has no idea. He thinks she might know, and she might not. I don't see how she can, though. If she does know, why would she go after Severus? Her biological brother? If she has some grudge against the Snapes, how could she possibly think Severus had anything to do with it? He was only a year old when she was born."

"Maybe she had a horrid life with the Smiths," suggested Ginny quietly. "And she blames Severus somehow, even though it's not rational. Because he got to stay with the Snapes and she didn't."

"She would have had to have had a really crummy life for Snape's childhood to look any better," said Harry. "His dad drank a lot, and didn't like magic. And their house certainly wasn't anything special…"

"But she wouldn't know that, not necessarily, would she?" said Hermione. "She might look at what he has now and have no idea what he had to battle to get to where he is."

"And why now?" asked Ginny. "Why is she writing you now?"

"I imagine something could have happened recently," mused Hermione. "Perhaps one of her parents…her adoptive parents, I mean…died. And she went through their personal papers and found correspondence between her birth parents and Severus' parents or even her birth certificate?"

"That's what Severus thinks," said Harry, nodding. Hermione often seemed to think along the same lines Severus did. That should scare him more than it actually did. He kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot and frowned. "Before we discovered who Estelle Smith really is, I know he thought she was going after him because he's the Headmaster, because what she really hated was Hogwarts itself. Because it didn't protect and save her sister Hilda all those years ago." He frowned, remembering how unsettled Severus had been the previous night.

"It would be fairly easy to find out about her parents," said Hermione, her voice contemplative. "If they died, or if one of them did. There are years of back issues of The Prophet in the library. We could look through the obituaries."

"Or we can get Percy to check for us in Magical Records," suggested Ron. "It will save loads of time and he's at the Ministry anyway."

Harry shook his head. "Severus has already spoken to Reuben about it," he said. "I'm supposed to meet with him after Potions this afternoon. He'll probably dump a year's worth of The Prophet in front of me and make me read obituaries."

"Fun," said Ron. But he turned away and Harry knew he'd had enough of death this past year and was certainly not envying Harry an afternoon of reading obituaries.

Fang suddenly bounded out of the water, jumping up at Harry and passing through him with an unearthly chill. And then the ghost dog was off, back to Hagrid's hut, faster in death than he'd ever been in life. They watched him run circles around Shorty, Hagrid's new Welsh Corgi, then chase off toward the forest where Hagrid was working with the Thestrals.

"I miss running," said Harry as they watched Fang disappear.

Hermione laughed. "We were on the run for nearly a year, Harry. I'd think you'd be happy to stay in one place for awhile."

Harry shrugged as he stood up. He'd only been confined to Hogwarts for a short time, and already he was beginning to feel stir crazy.

/

Hours later, Harry was elbows deep in yearbooks, newspapers and Ministry paperwork. Ensconced in a small reading room just off the library, with a huge sheet of parchment spread out on the table and held down at the corners with sand-bag paperweights that Madam Pince had supplied, he sat staring at the interconnecting lines and names scrawled all over the document.

It was intensely boring yet utterly fascinating.

Severus had indeed shared the entire story of Estelle Smith with Reuben Peace, including her apparent parentage. Reuben had tasked Harry with creating a series of family trees and group profiles—for the Snapes, the Smiths, Hilda Smith's friends—and determining how they were connected.

They'd begun together by writing "Eileen Prince" and "Tobias Snape" in the center of the parchment, connecting the names with a horizontal line between them. Below them they had added "Severus Snape" and below his name, "b. 1960." Next to him, Harry had penned "Anastasia Snape, b. 1961."

Reuben had already discovered the names of Hilda and Estelle Smith's parents. "Margaret Bancroft" and "Harper Smith" were dutifully filled in, along with their years of death, 1995 and 1998, respectively. Harry filled in the years representing Hilda's brief time on earth, 1965-1981, then added Estelle with her birth year—1961—and drew a line connecting Estelle and Anastasia. He stared at the parchment, then wrote "Alex Sanders," drew a circle around the name and connected the circle to Hilda's name with a line.

He started on the Carsons next, adding Prudence and Honor in a separate group. As Prudence was in Severus' year, he wrote "graduated HW 1978" under her name, then "Malfoy's Nanny" under that and finally "delivered warning letter." He knew much less about Honor, only that she would have graduated Hogwarts in 1983, the same year Hilda would have had she lived.

Reuben left him to his puzzle and to plow through the papers and he had finally found Eleanor Bancroft in the Hogwarts class of 1945. He'd have found her earlier if he'd paid attention to her obituary, which listed her year of birth as 1926. He stared at her photograph for a long time. She was a pretty girl, a Slytherin by her robes, with smooth, dark hair and a teasing smile. He wrote the year of her birth, and of her graduation from Hogwarts, on the parchment below her name.

Eleanor Smith would have been 35 years old in 1961 when Anastasia was born. 35. Almost as old as Severus was now. Old enough to have a child halfway through Hogwarts. Older by more than a dozen years than his parents were when they died.

Perhaps she hadn't been able to have children of her own. Perhaps it had been her dream to have a baby. Perhaps she would have done anything to adopt a little girl.

But then, Hilda was born four years later, when she was almost 40.

And Hilda was her biological child. He had looked her up with Ginny last week when Minerva had taken them in to see the Magical Registry.

He dug through the pile of documents that Reuben had left on the table until he found Eleanor's obituary and scanned through it. Married Hammett Elwin Smith on July 10, 1955.

On an impulse, he picked up Eleanor's senior yearbook and turned to the Ps.

He wasn't surprised in the least to find Eileen Prince's photograph there. She had been a classmate of Eleanor, then, both of them in Slytherin House. They would have known each other for at least seven years, would have shared a dorm room, a common room, hundreds of hours of class time.

He stared at the photograph of Severus' mother. She stared back at him cautiously, appraisingly. There was something so utterly familiar about her, and he wondered what pieces of her Severus carried in his heart.

He sighed and closed the book, picked up his quill, circled Eileen's name, then Eleanor's. He connected the two circles with a dotted line.

He certainly hadn't expected the connection between Eileen and Eleanor Smith to be so obvious, so easy to prove.

The door to the small room opened behind him.

"You missed dinner."

Harry looked up. Severus, still dressed in his teaching robes, stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him.

"I'll make something when I get back to the dorm," he said. He glanced down at the cluttered table. "I've had a bit of a breakthrough here."

Severus walked over and stood beside Harry. Harry glanced at him as he studied the scribbled document, eyes moving over it with interest. After a moment, he reached out a hand and traced the line between his mother's and Eleanor Bancroft's names.

"They were both in Slytherin," Harry said quietly. "In the same year, even."

"Hmm," answered Severus. He ran his thumb over his mother's name. "I never saw my mother with other witches and wizards except when she took me to Diagon Alley from time to time. I suspect she distanced herself from her friends go so as to not upset my Dad."

"He was like my Uncle Vernon, wasn't he?" asked Harry. "Didn't much like magic?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "We do have that in common. My father, however, didn't think magic unnatural, as your Uncle Vernon does. He was terribly jealous. I learned quite early in our home not to use it unless it was for his benefit. If he didn't benefit by it, he thought no one else should either." His eyes moved over to the Smith family diagram, then back to his own. He touched Anastasia's name and added softly. "He didn't like much of anything. If something made others happy, he generally disliked it."

"Like babies," said Harry sagely.

"Like babies," repeated Severus. He looked over at Harry, studying him for a moment. "Harry, we may never know how Anastasia ended up with the Smiths. But we need to get to the bottom of why Estelle Smith is sending you those letters, and whether she's the mastermind behind the crimes."

"And if she's not, who is," said Harry. "Alex Sanders is dead and someone killed him. If they could dispose of him so easily, who knows what they'll do next."

"Precisely," said Severus. He pulled out a chair from the table and sank into it. "How's that new wand of yours working out?"

"What?" Harry turned toward him, confused at the abrupt change of subject. "My wand?"

Severus smiled. "Yes, your wand. You have a new one, remember?"

"It's fine." They'd already been down this path. They both knew that it was Harry's magic that had changed, and they couldn't attribute his greater powers to either of his wands. "I'm getting better at channeling less magic through it."

"Indeed. So, your performance in class doesn't set you apart from the other students?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. I try not to draw attention to myself."

Severus picked a quill up off the table and turned it over in his hands.

"Do you want me to transfigure that into a snitch again?" asked Harry, half-teasing, reminding Severus that he had already tested Harry this way several weeks ago.

"Actually, I was wondering about your Animagus form. It's been a while since you last transformed, hasn't it?"

Harry didn't even have to think about it. "The last time was when my form changed," he said. "Right before term started."

"A month, then. Perhaps you would burn off some of that stress by having an occasional run as Lightfoot."

"Stress? What stress?" Harry challenged. What was Severus talking about? He wasn't the one who had just found out he had a sister he'd never known about. He wasn't the one who had to protect Hogwarts and all the students from someone who was clearly not in their right mind.

Auror Peace chose that moment to open the door.

"I'll find a place for you to run," Severus said quietly, leaving Harry half befuddled. Why was Severus suddenly worried about his stress level when there was so much going on in his own life?

"How are you doing with your assignment, Harry?" asked Reuben. He was holding a sheaf of papers in his hand.

"He's made some interesting connections," said Severus.

Peace was already standing beside the table, studying the schematics Harry had created.

"Excellent work, Harry," he said, looking up at Harry with something like pride on his face. "So, do you have a theory to offer on why Anastasia was raised by the Smiths as their daughter Estelle?"

Harry glanced at Severus before answering. Severus looked genuinely interested. Harry had puzzled this out already, and he had a theory, a plausible one. But he hadn't expected to have to voice it with Severus in the room.

"I don't know anything about the Smiths yet," he said carefully, "except that their daughter Hilda died before she left Hogwarts, and that their daughter Estelle doesn't exist in the Magical Registry. I don't know what kind of people they were, whether they were rich or poor or somewhere in between. But Eleanor Smith was 35 years old when Anastasia was born. She'd been married for a while, too, so I'm imagining she and her husband couldn't have children of their own, or thought they couldn't." He swallowed. This next part was difficult to voice. "And so when Eileen found out she was pregnant again so soon after Severus was born, and Severus was still a little baby himself, she might have decided that it wasn't a good idea to bring a second baby home to that house. Her husband was a Muggle, and didn't like magic much, and it was already stressful having one baby at home and not a lot of money to live on." He spoke slowly, staring at the small Snape family tree as he did so. "So she found someone who would take the baby and raise it as their own. Someone she trusted, of course, and someone who would give the baby a good life." He looked up and met Severus' eyes. "And I have no idea what she would have told her husband, or if it was really his idea to begin with. Maybe he knew the truth. Or maybe she told him the baby died."

Peace nodded once and turned toward Severus. "A plausible theory, Headmaster?"

"I would appreciate this conversation not leaving this room, at least for the time being," Severus answered. Harry noticed that his face was even more pale than usual. He looked haunted and Harry immediately regretted having voiced his ideas. But Peace had asked, and Severus had not stopped him. "And yes, Harry's theory is indeed plausible. I, of course, was too young to retain any memories of that time, but my father was a difficult man who drank to excess. My mother may have well been concerned about the safety of a second child in that household. And there was never enough money even for the three of us. Another child would have definitely presented a hardship."

"You realize there are other possibilities?" asked Peace, speaking to Harry now.

"Of course there are. The baby could have been kidnapped, or Eileen could have agreed in advance to have the baby for the Smiths, or she could have been blackmailed into giving it up. But I don't think so. I probably don't have it exactly right at all, but I'd guess Eileen knew what she was doing, and thought she was doing the best she could."

"What do you have there?" asked Severus suddenly, once again changing the direction of the conversation. He was certainly distracted and Harry was beginning to worry about him.

"The background report on Estelle Smith," said Reuben. "I thought you might be interested in it."

They were more than interested.

"What did you find out?" asked Harry, leaning over to get a glimpse of the report.

According to Peace's report, Estelle Smith had left Hogwarts in 1979 and had gone to work immediately at Gringotts. A year later she had married a man named Jacob LePonte. LePonte had been captured and imprisoned after the initial fall of Voldemort, his name reported to Aurors by Igor Karkaroff himself. He had died in Azkaban five years later. Hilda Smith had died at Hogwarts while LePonte was still in Azkaban and Estelle, her life in ruins around her, left her job at Gringotts and moved home with her parents.

"Her mother died three years ago, her father just this past summer," Peace said.

"So where is she now?" Harry cut in. "Have you brought her in for questioning?"

"I do not like that look on your face," said Severus. He had been watching Peace intently. "You cannot find her, can you?"

"Frankly, no. She apparently kept largely to herself these past years, caring for her parents and rarely leaving the family estate. The estate is being cared for by several house elves now, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you that none of them are talking. We've managed to turn up a few family friends and neighbors but to a person they've not seen Estelle since her father's funeral in June. They all assume she's finally taking a vacation after all these years of being holed up in that manor caring for her parents and mourning her husband and sister."

"And Prudence Carson? Were you able to locate her?" Severus tapped his finger on her name on Harry's chart.

Peace shook his head. "Not yet. She disappeared the weekend of the Hogwarts incident and hasn't been seen since. We did manage to track down her sister. She's being brought into the Ministry now for questioning—I'll need to leave in a few minutes, in fact."

"Go then," said Severus. "And thank you for your continued efforts on this case. I know it has taken some unexpected turns."

"It's my job, Headmaster," said Peace. "I'll let you know how the interview turns out."

They watched him leave, then Severus turned to Harry.

"You need dinner. Go back and spend some time with your friends. Get your mind off this case for a while."

Harry nodded. But he could tell by the drawn look on Severus' face that Severus himself wouldn't be able to get his own mind off the case, no matter how hard he tried.

"I hope you weren't angry about what I said earlier," he said as he packed up his things and got ready to leave. "I really don't have any right to try to guess why your mum might have given your sister to the Smiths. I didn't know her, or your father either. I only…well…" He looked up and met Severus' eyes. "What I saw of them in your memories that time reminded me a lot of living with the Dursleys."

"You needn't apologize," said Severus. "You brought up valid points and voiced a credible theory. You will have to think like that all the time if you wish to be an Auror, separating yourself emotionally from the case you are covering."

As Harry walked back to his room, he wondered again if Severus' plan was to make him a better Auror, or to make him abandon the career path before he even left Hogwarts.

Frankly, he was thinking more and more of a career playing Quidditch.

/

Saturday came and there was no letter from Hilda.

He still thought of her as Hilda, even knowing that the real Hilda Smith was dead. And while the evidence pointed to the letters coming from Estelle Smith, he couldn't quite get his brain wrapped around the fact that Severus had a biological sister, and this sister was likely his poison pen pal.

Honor Carson had cooperated fully with the Aurors, but ultimately had not been able to advance the case very far. She knew Estelle Smith only from Hogwarts, and only as her friend Hilda's older sister. And while she was fairly close to her own sister, she didn't know where she was, only that she'd gone out of the country with the family for whom she worked for a month or two.

Of course, the Aurors had already checked with the family before questioning Honor. Prudence had disappeared after the Hogwarts incident and had never come back, leaving the family and their three young children without a word.

By noon, Harry had stopped looking for the owl and was getting tired of the Auror on duty following him around. Severus was keeping his eye on him too, and for some reason, that, too, was getting on his nerves. After lunch, he made his way to the pitch for Quidditch practice and managed to not think about Hilda Smith for two solid hours, throwing himself into practice with more gusto than usual, pushing himself physically in an effort to keep his mind clear. Ginny ended the practice with a flying competition, focusing on aerial maneuvers and speed.

They flew one at a time, and Harry was second to last, behind Ron and Ginny.

He watched Ron, who was one of the fastest flyers on the team, but only average in dexterity. When Ron landed, Ginny took off, and Harry watcher her, fascinated, as always, by her speed and her grace. She was as natural on a broom as he was, but she had an innate athleticism and competitive streak that he'd never have. She smiled at him as she landed and hopped off her broom, and he took off for his own run.

He didn't know that anything was wrong until he landed on the pitch in almost the exact place he'd begun. Ginny was standing with her back to him, watching Ron as he ran toward the castle, Professor McGonagall hurrying along behind him.

"What's going on?" he panted, looking from Ginny to Ron's retreating form and realizing, to his surprise and confusion, that Severus had appeared and had stopped Ron. He was speaking to him, both hands on Ron's shoulders.

Ginny whirled around to face him.

"Hermione…" she began.

"Hermione? What happened? Ginny?"

He stepped toward her, his heart beating fast.

"She was hit by a car," said Ginny, walking toward him and wrapping her arms around him. She was shaking. "She was walking home from her parents' office. They've taken her to a Muggle hospital."

Harry's arms tightened around Ginny. She was still shaking. He needed to ask, but he didn't want to know. "How…how badly is she hurt? Did Minerva say? Can we go see her?" After all they'd been through the previous year, all those months on the run, he'd thought that this year would be calm, healing, peaceful.

"Professor McGonagall is taking Ron there now," she answered. "She doesn't know how badly she's hurt, only that her mum said it was very serious."

"We need to go too," Harry said, grabbing her hand.

"She said no," said Ginny, her voice rising in pitch. "I already asked. She said they'd get word back to us as soon as they could—as soon as they know something."

But Harry dropped her hand and began to run toward Ron, who was still standing with Severus.

"Harry! Stop! She said to remind you that you can't leave the castle grounds! Harry!"

She took off after Harry, but Severus got to him first.

He'd released Ron, and Ron and Minerva had hurried off toward the castle gates, Ron still in his Quidditch gear.

So much for Ron and Harry missing running.

"You cannot go," Severus said, grabbing Harry by the upper arm as he tried to change direction and rush to the gates. "Her mother was insistent—only Ron now. And Harry—you are not to leave the grounds under any circumstances."

"But Severus…it's Hermione!"

"She will be all right, Harry. Her mother said her injuries are very serious but not critical. Minerva is accompanying Ron. She can determine if Hermione should be moved to St. Mungo's."

Ginny caught up with them and tugged on Harry's hand.

"Harry…look!" She pointed ahead and upward where a large tawny owl was headed toward them.

"Do not touch it!" Severus tried to put Harry behind him, but the owl was not deterred. It lit on Severus' shoulder, tucking its wings in quickly, and extended a leg out to Harry.

"Stupefy!"

The owl toppled sideways and Harry caught it in his arms.

The stood there together, wordlessly staring at the motionless bird in Harry's outstretched arms.

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," Severus said, nodding at Ginny as she pocketed her wand.

"It's from her," said Harry, his voice toneless.

Without a word, Severus took the letter from the owl. His hands shook as he extracted the parchment from the envelope. Harry stood, still holding the stunned owl in his arms, as Severus unfolded the letter.

"Read it out loud," said Harry as he watched Severus scan the letter.

Severus quickly read the letter, then folded it back up and tucked it into his pocket. His mouth was set in a hard line. He looked angry.

"Come with me," he said, turning and starting to head back to the castle.

"What? No way!" Harry hurried after him, still holding the owl, Ginny right behind him. "Give it to me! It's my letter, not yours!" He knew he was being childish and petulant, but he didn't care. "And take this ruddy bird! I'm not going to cart it all over Hogwarts."

"We need to find Auror Peace," said Severus, continuing to hurry toward the castle. He pulled out his wand as he hurried along, sending his familiar doe Patronus ahead of them.

Reuben Peace was waiting for them in the infirmary with another Auror when they pushed through the doors. He quickly took the owl from Harry and handed it to the other Auror.

"Sit on the cot, Harry," said Severus. Without waiting to see that Harry obeyed, he disappeared into the dispensary and returned with a calming potion, which he handed to Harry.

"I don't need this," said Harry, pushing it away.

"Take it anyway," said Severus. He pulled the letter out of his pocket and handed it to Peace, then sat on the cot across from Harry.

"She has knowledge of Miss Granger's accident," he said bluntly, not softening the blow.

Harry stared at him for several moments, eyes wide and disbelieving. He looked at the vial of potion in his hand then downed it without a word. He stared at his hands in his lap as they slowly stopped trembling.

Ginny settled on the cot next to Harry and took his hand. He squeezed it—hard. Hard enough to hurt. She winced and Severus reached over and forcibly separated their hands.

"Headmaster—did you notice the handwriting?"

"I did. It is hers, but different."

"Let me see it." Harry held out his hand and Peace handed him the letter without comment.

He stared at the letter. The handwriting was spikier than usual, less even and harder to read. The letter itself was shorter than usual. Acknowledgement that she had received his letter the week before. Apology for not replying sooner. Then…"Your friends should not be wandering about London streets in such unpredictable times. They establish patterns, of comings and goings, that those who would do them harm can easily learn. One does not need a wand to harm a witch or wizard. There are Muggle contrivances that do the same, as I am sure you remember, Harry, having been on the receiving end of a collision between yourself and a Muggle automobile some years back. It is too late to warn you about your Muggle-born friend, and I learned of the planned attack far too late to stop it or to alert you, but it should serve as a reminder to you, Harry, to keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer."

"Why?" Harry let the letter fall out of his lap and flutter to the floor. "I don't understand. Why would they hurt Hermione?" He looked at Severus helplessly, his expression unguarded, looking far younger than his eighteen years.

"I can only guess," said Severus. "She is my student, a Hogwarts student, and was accessible to them, unprotected by Hogwarts' wards in the Muggle world. She was an available target."

Harry closed his eyes tightly. Hermione would be alright. She had to be alright. She was like a sister to him.

No.

No no no no no.

A sister.

To be continued…