Hey there you guys! I just wanted to say a big big thank you to all the reviewers, I was blown away by your kindness. I hope you enjoy this instalment!
Special thanks to slythrclw-shdwhntr-46, Zadria Cerulean, Shola2001, uhohspaghettiooos, thewinnowingwind, Ecwb, ante-diem, whiteroses1743, Garnet, Artemis Decibal, ninaaaaa, whitesepulchre, Blue night fairy, butterfly363, HGranger89, smithback, Bananniejones, JuliaLestrange, Krounas, brookie88, TheLoud, johnsocz, Nova5621 and guests.
I think of those prizes
That were ours for the taking
And wonder when the choices got made
We don't remember making
-Liz Lochead
Chapter 12
Previously…
"I'm so glad you asked," Moody stated, a sneer forming on his coarse face. Hermione couldn't help but notice the perturbed expression that was occupying Frank's face. She tried to control her breathing but if even her Professor, who despised her, was worried, she couldn't help but wonder how catastrophic the situation was. "I'm investigating the murder of former Detective Barrows of the muggle police force," he continued, a victorious gleam shining in his eyes. Hermione dropped her defence textbook.
A few minutes earlier….
Frank Longbottom was bored. There was no other way to describe it, the days at Hogwarts stretched to an impossible length. He pondered his irritation as he read through the material for the sixth-year class that was due to begin in a few minutes. He always read over the chapter before he began each of his classes, but he still didn't know if it was diligence or insecurity that fuelled the prep work. His eyes drifted lazily towards the right side of the classroom until they finally settled at one particular seat. The seat that would soon be occupied by an enigma he didn't think he'd ever understand.
Frank heaved a heavy sigh before he placed his head into his hands. This wasn't how his early twenties were supposed to be spent. He was supposed to be an Auror, someone who spent their days consumed by puzzles and action. He had never planned to be a Professor, but Dumbledore was not a man that was easy to turn down. There was always an ulterior motive to his every exploit, and Frank didn't know if this world could afford his refusal. That was the famous fatal flaw about Dumbledore's plans, you never knew how expendable you were until you were crowned a hero or a martyr. As he stared at the empty seat he wondered, not for the first time, if his appointment had had something to do with the Lady Prince's mysterious arrival.
Frank's head drooped closer to the table, and he contemplated the disadvantages of a midday nap. Suddenly, the door to his classroom swung open dramatically with a loud bang. Frank shot to his feet with his wand drawn and a reprimand ready on his lips. He froze when he realised who had barged in on his peaceful few moments.
"Auror Moody?" he asked in complete disbelief, his mind running through a hundred reasons why his boss would be stood in front of him. Moody completely dismissed any such pleasantries, instead swung the door shut, just as violently as he had opened it, and stomped over to stand in front of Frank's desk. His expression as grim and determined as ever.
"Put that down boy, before you take out my only remaining eye," Moody commented snidely, his magical eye darting down towards Frank's wand. The old renowned Auror sat heavily in one of the school chairs in the front row. Any doubt he had that it was in fact the Alastor Moody disappeared with the sarcastic comment. With an irritated sigh Frank rolled his eyes and fell into his seat once more. This time though, his posture was rigid.
"Why are you here?" He growled, not willing to suppress any of his irritation. He still partially blamed the older Auror for allowing Dumbledore's request to be put through.
"I'm here to make your day boy," Moody replied, ignoring Frank's dark tone. Reaching into his robes he withdrew a thick file that had the Department's emblem decorating its front. Haphazardly he threw it across the desk, it slid casually in front of Frank. He didn't drop eye contact for a moment, considering siding the report back just to annoy his mysterious trainer. His curiosity got the better of him however and he opened the file up to the first page. His eyes narrowed in confusion when he noticed the muggle paper with messy writing scrawled all over it. He leaned closer to try and decode the words. A few sentences stood out amongst the chaos that seemed to resemble a constant Joycean stream of thought.
Rodger's is gone.
Days are missing, memories come and go.
Mustn't forget- children, parents, all gone.
I woke up today with hours gone.
A note on my desk had an address in Spinner's End but I don't know anyone in that shithole.
Who is Luna Potter?
He flipped the page in confusion and froze in horror at the muggle picture that greeted his unprepared eyes. Lying a few feet away from a bed was, what Frank could only assume, the remains of a man. His face had been completely ruined by what he would guess was a particularly rough blasting curse.
"Merciful Merlin Moody, a little warming would have been nice," he hissed as he attempted to shut the file closed. Alastor moved quickly and shoved his hands between the pages before it was fully sealed.
"What's the matter boy, the big Auror can't hold his lunch?" Moody questioned with his usual laugh that didn't reach his eyes. Frank just rolled his eyes in response, well used to the man's macho goading. Instead of re-joining again Moody simply flipped open the report and gestured down towards the page. Frank sent him a glare but nevertheless looked down. His breath caught, lying there in the muggle photo was a grainy Luna Prince. Her face was pale, and her lip was cut open but there was no mistaking the girl. She looked so dreadfully young that Frank had to look away once more.
"The girl must have gotten caught up with the muggle police department somehow," Moody explained, not seeming at all surprised when Frank didn't raise his head to respond. "Don't worry, whoever's left connected to that bastard family got their revenge," he intoned darkly. "You think the pictures are bad, I paid a visit to their morgue," he added before rising from his seat and beginning to pace the room. "I've no idea what she was doing around muggles or what the detective was doing focusing on her, all of the other files were destroyed, these were just thrown around his house. But it's something," he muttered, limping slightly as he crossed the room.
Frank allowed himself to truly take in the image of the girl lying awkwardly in what seemed like a muggle hospital. There was no way the file in front of him was unconnected to the recent revelations he'd been making in the muggle world.
Mustn't forget- children, parents, all gone. He repeated to himself. Finally, he raised his eyes to study the Auror in front of him, a man that had a deep faith in the department he played a hand in managing. Sure, he knew there was corruption, but Frank sincerely doubted he knew the extent of it. There was no way Alastor Moody would have joined a lawless group like the Order of the Phoenix. He had once heard him comment that they were just as bad as the Death Eaters, a bunch of anarchic wand-wavers. He wondered redundantly if he would have such strong opinions if he knew what the higher ups in the department he was always so proud of were really hiding.
"He was probably a nutter," Frank commented, trying to keep his voice light. There was no way he could let Moody know about his suspicions. The older man was a loose canon of the highest regard. Moody's eyes narrowed at his words and he stopped his pacing for a moment.
"What's the matter boy? Only two days ago you were begging me to find something on the Prince girl and now that I have it you're acting like a prissy witch," Moody commented as he leaned his weight against one of the desks in the front row. Frank retained eye contact, knowing that any such avoidance would only promote his suspicions.
"Just seems pretty thin to me is all," Frank commented before shutting the file with an edge of finality. Moody's magical eye spun forward and seemed to bore through his very soul.
"A man is dead with holes in his memories and the only active case he had going involved the Prince girl," Moody stated, his voice coated in disbelief. "Thin?" He questioned sarcastically. A brief rush of self-loathing filled Frank's heart. He felt dirty deterring Moody from investigating the case, but he knew that were the older man to just scratch the surface a little further he'd uncover everything. Then the only link that Frank had to determine what was truly happening in his department would disappear before he even knew what he'd stumbled upon. Sometimes the ends really did justify the means. He had a child killer to stop, and if he had to choose the Order over the Department to do that, he would in a heartbeat. So, he scoffed and rolled his eyes at the man who had practically taught him everything he knew.
"You won't get a conviction from this Alastor," he muttered, injecting a hint of derision into his use of Moody's first name. Frank had to remember that they were equals now, he wasn't a trainee that could be dismissed at any sign of wrongdoing. He stood and headed towards the class room door, intent on dismissing Moody before his class arrived.
"I've never known you to shy from a challenge," Moody commented. Frank paused and screwed his eyes shut, glad he was facing away from the Auror.
"More conserving my energy, no more wild goose chases," he countered, referring to all the cold case assignments Moody had sent him on to get him used to the field.
"If I recall you were quite good at wild goose chases," Moody replied, throwing him slightly. He was usually never one to give compliments and Frank couldn't help but feel that the austere man was throwing him a line. Obviously, he knew that he was hiding something and was giving him an out. Ignoring his urge to spill his guts right then and there, Frank continued and opened the door, immensely glad that none of his students had arrived.
"Auror Moody," Frank muttered with a haphazard gesture towards the exit. He hoped the bold gesture would unsettle him just enough to leave but he should have known better. Nothing ever unsettled Moody.
"Well amn't I glad I decide what cases are worth my investigation," he growled with narrowed eyes. "Act like a good little Professor and bring me the girl, there's at least one Auror in Hogwarts today," he hissed.
….
Hermione sat across from the two Aurors in the small unfamiliar room they had led her to. She had still not uttered a word since Moody's abrupt declaration and her heart had yet to cease hammering in her chest. The adrenaline pumping through her body made it hard to stay seated, the last few months any other time she'd felt the flight or fight impulses she'd been running before she'd even taken in her surroundings. That's what war really was, running until you had the upper hand. It was strange for her to stay around for the political aspects, the Aurors in her own time had been taken under the Dark Lords control too fast for her to ever have any experience with them.
"Does Dumbledore know we're here?" She hazily heard Frank ask the older man. Her head was too swarmed with thoughts of the butterfly effect to have even considered the legality of the Auror questioning her at school. She held her breath, hoping that Moody would have to leave to ask for special permissions.
"What the old man doesn't know won't hurt him," Moody replied with a wry smile that dashed Hermione's hopes. She couldn't help but note how incredibly naïve he was behaving, Dumbledore knew everything that was happening on his grounds. This interview wouldn't be taking place unless he willed it. From the thick file in his hands Moody withdrew a photo that she presumed was the same as he'd shown her earlier. He placed it on the table in front of her, but she didn't drop her eyes, afraid that even through her Occlumency shields her recognition would show on her face.
"Afraid to look girl?" Moody pushed, using his large weather-beaten hand to shake the photo on the table in front of her. She still didn't look down.
"If you really had something I wouldn't still be at Hogwarts," she muttered, staring straight ahead and trying her best to avoid their eyes. She was surprised when her voice didn't shake and betray her nerves. In response Moody just lifted the photo from the table and held it a mere few inches from her face. She had been wrong. It wasn't a picture of her but of what she guessed were the remains of Detective Barrows. She forced herself not to flinch away from the disturbing image of the man that had died trying to uncover horrors that he would never have been able to comprehend.
"I have enough," Moody intoned darkly. "Look Longbottom, she's a tougher stomach than you," he commented in response to her emotionless perusal of the picture. "Seen worse girl?" He questioned with a laugh she knew was designed to unsettle her. She ignored the question, hoping against hope that Severus would notice her absence and come to her rescue. A part of her hated that she needed a saviour at all. She watched as his magical eye rotated rapidly around his head, a tactic that he had once personally told her he'd used to disgust criminals. She'd never considered that she'd be sat at the opposite side of the table to him.
'The eye', Hermione thought suddenly, panic clawed at her fraying nerves. She knew the Auror never used his eye to look under the robes of witches, but should he decide to check her for the Dark Mark and discover Bellatrix's carving instead she'd be made. Reaching under the table she placed her hand in her pocket as casually as she could.
"So, was it revenge or just old fashion muggle hunting?" Moody questioned grimly. Hermione waited until his magical eye locked with hers before she made her move for her wand.
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Hermione muttered. In a flash she withdrew her wand and cast a charm Kingsley had taught her when Moody's magical eye had been lost that fateful night in Little Whinging. She had barely finalised the spell before her wand was expelled from her hand forcefully by the experienced Auror. She didn't mind, she had never intended to fight. Her arm was impenetrable by his special sight now and that was all that mattered. She sincerely doubted he was even familiar with the spell given that the eye must have been a new addition to his collection of injuries.
"What are you playing at girl?" He hissed, her wand landing in his outstretched hand. He took a moment to assess the spot that she'd charmed with his magical eye inquiringly. Hermione could have pinpointed the instant he noticed the gap in his vision. His expression darkened noticeably, and he roughly flicked through the file in his hand before he withdrew the picture of her. His eyes flew to the bandage on her arm in the picture that at one point might have seemed inconsequential but now held a deeper meaning.
"Moody?" Frank voiced, having missed a step in their rapid exchange.
"Don't worry, by the time I'm done with you you'll be begging for me to look at that arm," Moody hissed, completely ignoring Frank's question. Trying her best to channel a Pureblood heiress she leaned forward in her seat and plastered a smirk on her face.
"Oh please, I know my rights. You have to have just cause for a bodily search and good luck finding an inquisitor willing to upset the Lady of the Prince household for the sake of a muggle man," she murmured, with a wicked laugh. She watched the colour drain from Frank's face at the change in her disposition. Moody stood so fast his chair hit the ground with a loud thump.
"Listen here-," he started but was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door behind her. She watched as annoyance flickered across his scarred face before turning to see for herself who had come to her rescue.
….
Severus Snape had a headache. He couldn't have been sure if it was exhaustion or anger that was causing the harsh nerve pain, but if he was a betting man his money would be on a certain brunette being involved. The fight they'd unwisely shared deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts had jarred something in his heart that he'd once thought fixed. Was he really taking on the traits of Albus Dumbledore that he'd once hated himself? With the gift of foresight her words held some depth. Keeping information from the fiery girl had always seemed imperative, a fixture that secured her presence at his side. If she were to figure out everything then he knew she'd have no interest in staying around the dated castle. Hermione Granger had never been one to rest on her laurels.
His patience wore thin at her uncharacteristic lateness to her unnecessary Defence lesson. She was lucky Longbottom had left after he'd allowed them into classroom or the irate Auror would just have one more reason to target her. He dismissed the part of himself that summoned Granger's words to the surface of his mind. Had he really been as blatantly biased as Longbottom? He knew she was especially connected to the Potter boy, but what if she was right? What if he'd been one of those people that had failed the boy that had the fate of the world on his shoulders? Standing at the front of a classroom it was hard to see the depths of his student's troubles. Even as he'd taught him Occlumency the boy had always been obstinate and arrogant. He shook his head slowly, Granger wasn't the type of girl to be friends with anyone even remotely like that.
If it was true, was he failing her too? Was the providence of the quest he'd found himself on more important than her free will?
The door to the classroom opened loudly and he turned his head sharply, hoping that Granger had beaten the teacher to class. He watched in confusion as Rodolophus Lestrange entered the classroom. The seventh year looked around the room carefully with an assessing expression on his face before his eyes fell on Severus. A hush descended on the classroom as they began to realise that they had an intruder in their midst. Confidently the Slytherin made his way through the tables, seeming to enjoy the extra attention, until finally stopping in front of Snape. He had completely bypassed his brother in the process who looked baffled at his presence.
"Lestrange," he greeted warily. He didn't bother to point out that Longbottom could be back any second, Rodolophus would already know that. Slytherin's never took unnecessary risks.
"Snape," the boy returned with a smirk. "So, Longbottom's really gone then?" He asked after a moment's pause, as if this was a casual question that he hadn't just entered a different year groups class to ask. Severus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the backhanded method his housemates used to gossip.
"Indeed, did you see him in the corridor?" Severus inquired, playing along with the pathetic game of cat and mouse. He tried to infuse anything other than casual disinterest into his facial expression but failed miserably.
"It's funny you should ask actually," Rodolophus began. "I was just chatting with Bellatrix and she mentioned that Narcissa may have seen the Professor leading Lady Prince away from the classroom," he informed with a gleam of warning in his eyes. Severus tried not to panic at the influx of information. While Longbottom could be tetchy there was no way he would lead Granger into some sort of trap, well at least not in the sight of witnesses.
"A student and a Professor, how riveting," he replied sardonically, maintaining his unflustered persona. Worry began to settle in his mind when the smirk on Rodolophus's face only grew at his dismissive comment.
"My sentiments exactly," he replied. "Or at least they were until I heard Auror Moody was accompanying them, then of course I was quite interested," he finished, finally unleashing the real reason he was in the classroom. A sudden wave of nausea swept over Severus at the news. He stood sharply, a plan already forming in his head.
"Did Narcissa hear anything else or see which direction they were headed in?" Severus questioned, frustration clear in his tone. Rodolophus simply shook his head, a calculating expression decorating his features. Severus nodded once before turning and heading towards the exit, ignoring the curious stares of his fellow classmates that were close enough to have overheard Rodolophus's words. He sighed, they really needed to work on keeping a low profile. He would have thought after years of experience as a spy he'd have no problem with the covert mission, things were always harder when they were personal. He took solace in the fact that he had never really planned on keeping his hasty personality changes hidden from certain prying eyes, quite the opposite. Granger however, was meant to be protected.
"Snape, wait," Rodolophus summoned just as Severus was about to leave the room. He turned, pausing for only a moment. "Take Rabastan with you, you'll cover more ground," he commanded authoritatively, motioning towards his brother. While his words may have seemed harsh the message in them was clear. Slytherins weren't known for their loyalty, but against the Ministry they always made an exception. To Rodolophus, Luna was a Lady being persecuted by his government, exactly the fire that fuelled so many to join the Dark Lord's resistance.
Snape just nodded to display his gratefulness before he sped out the door, thoroughly unsettled by their brief exchange. He heard scampering behind him proving that Rabastan was hot on his heels. They hurried through the corridors of Hogwarts at a brisk pace, but never accelerated into a run, neither wanting the attention of the population. Eventually they came to a familiar corridor.
"I doubt they'd be all the way up here," Rabastan commented, slightly out of breath. Snape ignored him before he began to knock furiously on a classroom door to their left. "Have you lost your mind?" Rabastan hissed when he realised exactly what Snape was about to do.
"Luna is a Gryffindor, we can use that to our advantage," Snape explained shortly, not sparing the boy a glance. He waited impatiently until he heard the shrill Scottish accent permitting him entry. Snape didn't hesitate, throwing open the door he took a hurried step into the classroom. Belatedly he realised that a class was in session, from his estimation it must have been a first year one. Their young and curious faces swivelled to assess the anomalous disturbance to their monotonous class.
"Mister Snape?" Minerva asked, her tone filled with astonishment. She was stood with her usual firm posture at the front of the classroom, obviously in the middle of demonstrating a spell. He hesitated for a moment, unsure how to address his old friend.
"Professor, may I have a moment of your time?" He questioned, as politely as the time constraint he faced would allow. His composure seemed to stun the notoriously strict woman who appeared to evaluate his request carefully before nodding once in response and making her way to the back of the class.
….
Hermione was shocked to recognise the youngest Lestrange brother standing in the doorway. He smirked when he caught sight of the three occupants of the room.
"Gotcha," he murmured. A weird unease developed in her mind at the familiar echo that the one word sent through her whole body. She shook her head to expel the sensation before turning fully in her chair to study the boy who leaned back and peered down the corridor.
"Professor," he projected, the smirk never falling from his handsome features. For a silly moment Hermione assumed it was Snape that he was summoning until she heard the familiar clatter of a heeled boot on the stone floors. Both McGonagall and Snape arrived from different directions to stand on either side of the doorway. Hermione vaguely noted that McGonagall could have been the physical representation of fury. Her wicked gaze sought out Moody with a vehemence that Hermione knew she reserved for people that especially disgusted her.
"How dare you Alastor," she fumed as she took an imperial step into the room to stand beside Hermione. "And you," she hissed as she rounded on Frank Longbottom. "Allowing one of your students to be harassed like this," she persevered stridently, gesturing around the room to illustrate her point. Frank didn't meet her eye, the shame he felt was apparent to everyone in the room.
"I'll have you know that I have permission from Dumbledore to visit the Auror he borrowed from my department," Alastor defended, rising from his seat while simultaneously shutting the grotesque pictures away into the file in front of her. McGonagall didn't miss the gesture and her eyes just caught a glimpse of the image. Her jaw dropped open and she once again rounded on the older Auror.
"Permission to visit not to cajole and terrify," she hissed clearly, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. "Did you think showing a sixteen-year-old these gruesome pictures would further anything?" She questioned bitingly. Her ire seemed to grow with every moment that Auror Moody showed no remorse for his actions.
"She's young not innocent-," he attempted fiercely.
"Let me ask you Auror Moody, do you interrogate all criminals you have enough evidence to conclude certain guilt, so far from the department?" She questioned sardonically. The firm expression in her eyes never receding. Moody didn't bother formulating an answer and just glared in return. "That's what I thought," she finished. She gestured for Hermione to rise from her seat which she obeyed hurriedly. "Head back to your dormitories Miss Prince," she commanded. Hermione nodded once before moving towards Severus. "That goes for you too boys," she added in the direction of the two Slytherins. Severus however, didn't make his way out of the class, in fact he took a step forward.
"Her wand?" He requested coldly with an outstretched hand in the direction of Auror Moody. The man just glared in return before addressing Hermione.
"You think a charm on that arm of yours will keep you safe from me Lady Prince," he began bitterly with a sarcastic lilt imposed on her faux title. "But you should know I have a history of putting away people regardless of who they share blood with," he informed with narrowed eyes.
"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered not meeting his eyes. Roughly Moody shifted the file around in his grasp before withdrawing a different picture and placing it on the table. It was an old polaroid of Detective Barrows. He wore his familiar tight-lipped smile and there was a clear mischievous gleam in his bright eyes that seemed to penetrate the black and white hindrance of the photo. It reminded her strongly of the first time she'd met the handsome Detective. Reluctantly unbidden memories of the strong man that had fought to oppose the child killers that invaded his world flooded her mind.
Let me try, his voice whispered in her mind, pleading for her to fight with him.
"Some investigations should be conducted inwardly Mad-Eye," she whispered before she could help herself, her eyes not yet leaving the picture. She remembered the terror that had haunted Barrows when he'd mentioned how his partner had just disappeared into thin air. Moody's presence was enough for Hermione to conclude that the hasty clean up of the muggle investigation hadn't been lawfully conducted. It was easy for her to see the obvious corruption in the department that had never supported her, but she imagined it would be difficult for the older Auror to see something he didn't want to exist.
"Speak up girl," Moody commanded, though she knew he'd heard her clearly. Reaching out she touched Barrows face in the photo and silently sent her apologies for his cruel misfortune. She opened her mouth to respond but a cold voice interrupted her.
"Luna," Snape warned. She snapped her mouth shut, her temporary daze shattered. Snape shook his outstretched hand impatiently once again. Moody roughly pushed the wand into his grasp.
"Don't think I don't know he paid you a little visit Snape," Moody cautioned in a half growl. Severus completely ignored the man, instead he grabbed hold of Hermione's elbow and guided her out of the room without even a backwards glance. Rabastan followed silently a few paces behind them. Snape's grip tightened on her arm every few steps they took until it became painful.
"Thanks for everything Rabastan," Snape commented, the dismissal clear in his strained voice. Rabastan, perhaps picking up on the tense atmosphere, nodded and paused in his stride.
"I'm glad to see you're unharmed M'Lady," he muttered in parting with a small smile on his face. Once again, an odd feeling penetrated Hermione's senses as she assessed the boy but quickly it faded into the background of her occupied mind. Before she could formulate her own few words of feigned appreciation for his intervention Severus had pulled her down the corridor and around the corner.
…
They meandered the halls towards the Gryffindor common room at a swift pace until Snape could no longer hold in his interrogation. With a flick of his wand he opened a portrait of the British countryside she hadn't even been aware housed a secret passageway. A few birds left the portrait in irritation at the jostling of their habitat, squawking angrily as they left. Pulling her in roughly he closed the door behind them with a solid thump. With harsh wand movements Snape raised discretionary charms around them so their conversation would be private. Finally, he turned to face her in the thin passageway that forced them to stand mere inches from one another.
"Tell me everything," he commanded directly, his dark eyes seemed to glow in the brief sliver of light the crack between the portrait and wall allowed. Otherwise the passage was soaked in darkness, giving the meeting a lightly clandestine feel.
"What did you mean that day?" She questioned boldly.
"Miss Granger," he hissed, not in the mood for her innate questions.
"That day in the park when you said you'd deal with Detective Barrows?" She pushed, ignoring his castigation. His eyebrows rose at the question and the distressed expression decorating her face.
"I erased his memories of you," he replied simply, finally coming to terms with the fact that she'd begin to answer his questions sooner if he played her game.
"That's all?" She asked once more.
"Yes," he answered firmly, if there was anything that annoyed him more than bothersome questions it was repeated bothersome questions. She stared into his eyes as if to examine if there was some way to see if he was being truthful. Surely the girl knew his mind was impenetrable, Snape thought. Somehow however, she seemed to find her answers in his expression. Her body sagged with relief and she leaned back on the dirty walls, completely exhausted.
"He was murdered, blasting curse to the face to be exact," she responded, keeping him up to date tiredly. A flare of anger welled in Severus's chest at the now obvious insinuation.
"And you think I had something to do with it?" He hissed, leaning forward until he was towering over her. He may not have reached the height he'd possessed in his own time, but he'd like to think he could be pretty imposing when he wanted to be. The girl didn't even have the grace to look affronted at his conclusion. Instead she raised one eyebrow lazily in a sardonic manor.
"There's a lot about you I don't know Professor," she explained, not looking one bit put out by his anger. Straightening her back she stared directly into his eyes, Occlumency shields in place, and glared right back at him. Snape briefly got a glimpse of the girl that had managed to make it to Undesirable Number 2, the girl that had the potential to be one of the most formidable fighters he had ever known but instead focused on her books and used logic to fight her battles. He wondered momentarily how long a person could continue to stay out of the fray, it never seemed to last long with Dumbledore. Severus had seen her briefly during the final battle of Hogwarts, hidden under his mask, she had been fierce in her defence of the castle and all that it had represented.
"There's a lot I don't know about you," he countered truthfully, his voice never losing its punitive tone.
"Yes but at least when you tell me something I trust your answer," she responded evenly, her voice full of passion he knew she'd been holding back for some time. She moved to exit through the portrait but he stopped her by putting both of his hands on either side of her head, effectively boxing her in.
"And you think I don't trust you?" He asked, his voice low. He heard her breath hitch at his abrupt action, but he didn't abate his attentions. Instead, he leaned down to get rid of the height difference that separated them until he was peering directly into her eyes. Not for the first time he bitterly regretted her knowledge in the Mind Arts. It would have been so easy to slip into her tumultuous mind and find his answers the way he had grown accustomed to.
"I know you don't," she responded. "Otherwise you wouldn't be keeping me in the dark," she explained starkly. A moment passed between them where they just peered into each other's eyes, both at a stale mate in their peculiar association.
"What if you wouldn't be able to handle it?" He murmured lowly, his voice temporarily losing its ireful edge. He watched as worry crept into the girl's expression, apparently, she wasn't as good at Occlumency as he'd like to believe.
"Let me try," she muttered, but there was something odd in her words, as if they were a repeated sentiment. The tone did nothing to abate his worry. He was saved from replying by the unexpected opening of the heavy portrait, the breeze lifted a small wave of dust over the pair. Standing there, with a mountain of books in his arms, was a lone Hufflepuff seventh year boy. When he caught sight of the pair a flustered expression suddenly appeared on his face. It took longer than Severus would ever like to admit to realise why he looked so mortified. Abruptly he dropped his arms from around Granger's head and took the biggest step back the narrow corridor would allow.
"S-s-s-sorry," the boy muttered. Severus just glared at the stuttering Hufflepuff, he hadn't even appreciated that the secret route was known by anyone other than teaching staff.
"Don't worry about it, we were just leaving," Hermione answered kindly after she'd regained her composure. She stepped down from the portrait opening and out of his reach before he could stop her. With one last disconcerted glance over her shoulder she took off down the corridor and away from him, effectively ending their conversation.
He stared after her, not quite knowing what to make of the enigma of a girl. He wondered if she would have been happier if this world had just left her alone. If she had gone to muggle school like the children in his neighbourhood. He'd always thought them so pathetic when he'd learned of the menial monotonous jobs they'd acquired when they had grown up. Every now and then though, he had found himself wondering if they had perhaps pulled the long straw, with days that could pass without absolutely anything interesting happening. He'd once thought the best thing about life was his magic and the power that came with it, now he wondered if those happy moments that people shared during the intermissions of the drama was what they lived for. If that was so, what was he even fighting for? It was hardly revenge, he'd gotten that a long time ago. For happy moments? He doubted he was even capable of such simplicity.
"Fine catch," the Hufflepuff muttered with a low whistle as he also watched Hermione walk away. His words drew Severus from his thoughts swiftly, he'd almost forgotten the boy was even there.
"Shut up Diggory," he responded simply before heading in the opposite direction. Her words had given him a lot to think about and he needed space to consider his next plan of action.
….
Sirius pushed his mashed potatoes from one side of his plate to the other. He was tired, he'd been up late the night before celebrating being back in the castle with the lads. They'd already begun construction of the second map, but they didn't know how long the development would take. They all hoped it would be shorter than the original, with all the research already completed but they weren't sure. Magic was a fastidious thing that didn't always respond predictably. He glanced around the table at his friends who were all acting much the same as him. Even Marlene, who was usually the most hyperactive of them all, nearly had her face drooping into her dinner. He sighed, the second day of school was always the hardest, the excitement at the novelty of classes was gone and the longing for a sleep-in began.
Suddenly two ginger boys fell into the seats on either side of him, pushing Peter and James down much to their thinly veiled annoyance. Sirius barely raised his head to greet the boys who so rarely decided to sit with them. He knew exactly what this conversation would be about, and he could say honestly, he had no interest in discussing the topic of Luna Prince ever again. The girl seemed to dominate the conversation when she wasn't even around. Especially when she wasn't around.
"Well then, how's this side of the table doing?" Fabian (or at least Sirius assumed it was Fabian) asked.
"We're okay, just a little sleepy," Marlene responded, perking up a little at the presence of the two boys.
"Yeah, we know the feeling," Gideon re-joined with a yawn. Sirius had to resist the urge not to roll his eyes at the subtle brag of the party they'd thrown and not invited them to. Neither twin seemed at all put out at the obvious exclusion, so Sirius was determined to show how little he cared about the snub.
"Anyway, we were just wondering-," Fabian began.
"We were on the opposite side of the room and didn't hear a word Lestrange said to Snape, nor have we seen Prince," Sirius cut across, sensing the direction the conversation was taking. His patience was most definitely fraying when it came to the twins.
"It did seem strange though and she's not in the common room either," Marlene appeased, sending a glare in Sirius's direction. Obviously, she thought he was adding to the unspoken animosity between them.
"Yeah, we heard she's been missing," Gideon commented thoughtfully.
"And naturally you thought we'd be involved," Sirius abridged grumpily. He jolted forward suddenly when Fabian tapped him firmly on the back, his fork landing noisily on his plate.
"You catch on fast Black," he commented with a grin.
"Yeah well better that then-," he began, a snappy retort on his tongue but he paused when he noticed a sullen Slytherin enter the Great Hall. It was strange to see Snape walking like he knew he belonged, there had always been an awkward element to his gait. That had all changed when he'd returned from the Christmas break however. Luna Prince seemed to have done wonders for his self-confidence, Sirius considered grouchily. "If you want answers I'd suggest you head over to the Slytherins, they'd know Luna better than any of us," he corrected sourly.
"That's the thing about you Black, always trying to compensate for that last name of yours. No matter who gets in the way," Fabian quipped back without hesitation. Sirius rose from his seat so quickly the entire table shook. Automatically Fabian rose to stand off against him, an expression of grim amusement covering his usually playful features. In that moment he hated how the ginger Gryffindor was taller than him. He vaguely noticed Gideon reach for some chips, completely unconcerned with the developing enmity.
"Got something to say Black?" Fabian said, seeming almost entertained by his irascibility. Sirius reached for his wand but felt someone grab his arm. He looked back at James who had reached over Gideon in a bid to calm him.
"Take a walk Pads, there's no fight here," he murmured, before letting go and pulling away again. Sirius considered his options, if he were to start a brawl here what would it achieve? He'd finally be able to put a Prewett in his place, that was a major triumph that he'd long since desired. Starting a feud inside his own House wasn't the most desirable of options however. He knew the twins well enough to be assured of a painful retaliation. With a shake of his head he pulled away from the table and headed for the exit, being sure to bump shoulders with Fabian as he did.
"That's what I thought," Fabian called after him.
"There's a time and a place Prewett," he called over his shoulder.
"Name it," Fabian responded but Sirius just walked away. Passing up the opportunity to duel was always difficult for the tempestuous boy, but he knew taking on Fabian Prewett would be the equivalent of clashing with most of Hogwarts. Sure, the Marauders were will liked, but they had stirred a few cauldrons the wrong way during their time at Hogwarts. Most of the students (including a few Slytherins) were incredibly fond of their Head boy.
He stalked through the castle to disperse his irritation, paying no attention to his course. Eventually he found himself on the wooden bridge that made up the rear entrance to the castle. Darkness was falling now, the short January days not yet passed, but he just about made out the figure half way down the winding overpass. He took a few steps forward to make out the identity of the mystery person skipping dinner. Rolling his eyes at his unfortunate luck he considered that it seemed he was destined to associate with Luna Prince. He made his way over to her purposefully, intent on giving her a piece of his mind for disturbing his otherwise peaceful time at Hogwarts.
"Your watch dogs are looking for you," he hollered as he approached her. She didn't even spare him a glance, instead she continued to stare vacantly at the view the tall open bridge provided of the surrounding countryside. He assessed her for a moment before he moved to stand next to her, his arms resting on the wooden safeguard beside hers. He tried to see what was catching her attention of the view, internally admitting it was beautiful in the twilight, the lights of Hogsmeade projecting beautifully into the darkening sky. From her expression he knew that she wasn't here for the view, something else was playing in front of her eyes.
"Not even going to acknowledge me then?" He murmured puerilely. He heard her sigh heavily at his question before she turned sideways to study him.
"What is it you want Sirius?" She questioned irately. Sirius took the chance to really study the girl beside him. Her brown eyes had well defined black bags underneath them and her face looked worn, as if she were more than ready for the day to turn to night. She was still beautiful though, in a powerful way that only reaffirmed his assumptions that she had no place in Pureblood society.
"Tough day?" He found himself asking before he could reign in his curiosity. She snorted inelegantly and turned once more to study the view emptily.
"You could say that," she murmured quietly. Sirius began to feel guilty for disturbing her from her thoughts, she obviously had more going on than the standard Hogwarts student.
"Can't be that bad," he reassured uncharacteristically. He turned himself to face away from her and examine the view as well, hoping the less he saw of her the less awkward he would feel. He'd never been one for comforting or emotions.
"This school, the Professors, the Headmaster are aimed to protect the students not to prepare them," she muttered, her exasperation at the system clear in her tone. Sirius said nothing, hoping that she'd expand on what was bothering her. "I used to get so annoyed when people kept me out of what was going on, what I'd be fighting," she mumbled, the shaky emphasis she'd placed on her own confession of involvement was enough for him to know she was crying, still he didn't turn. His knowledge of how to cope with a crying witch was preciously limited. For some reason he knew that when she spoke of a 'fight' it was more literal than he would understand, and from the information he'd gathered he knew exactly what side of that fight she was on.
"That's just how the world works," Sirius responded.
"It wasn't how I was supposed to work," she mumbled through her tears. "I was supposed to be different but I'm nothing more than a hypocrite," she told herself harshly, leaning down slightly he watched from the corner of his eye as she placed her head in her hands and began to massage her forehead furiously.
"Why's that?" Sirius asked simply.
"I got a muggle detective killed because I ignored him when he asked for help and to fight," she whispered, seeming surprised that she was even confiding in him. If he was being honest he'd have to admit that he was pretty astonished too, the only conversation they'd shared so far had verged on aggressive. Standing there though, so removed from the hustle of Hogwarts there was something familiar about her company. Almost like they were old friends that hadn't spoken in some time and were trying to get to know one another once again, only to discover they hadn't changed at all.
"And instead of being prepared he was just a confused mess that made an easy target," she confessed wearily through her sobs. Flashes of the muggle man that Sirius had seen hassling her in the park, what seemed like months ago, flew through his mind.
"That's not your fault, muggles can't fight wizards Prince," he murmured lowly. She turned to face him, forcing him to meet her watery eyes.
"Anyone can fight if they know their enemies," she warned. "When I turned him away that day, I basically signed his death certificate," she reiterated. Sirius raised his eyebrow at the muggle reference but didn't comment.
"I think who ever killed him did that Prince," he muttered. "You give yourself too much credit," he reassured quietly. She shook her head but didn't respond, instead she turned once more to look out upon the calm countryside. He noticed that she hadn't chosen the side of the bridge that looked out onto the Forbidden Forrest, which in his opinion, was a much more interesting sight.
"Going to tell the whole school why the great Alastor Moody was at school today?" She questioned bitterly. Sirius felt a wave of shock pass over him, he'd not even heard that Moody was on the grounds today. It must have been a serious matter indeed if one of the most promising Aurors in the country was involved. He tried to hide his bewilderment but was glad she was facing away from him. Reaching over, in a rare moment of inspired kindness, he gripped one of her hands that was shaking violently from the cold. It was icy to touch and made him wonder how long she'd been standing out in the elements of the Scottish Highlands.
"I didn't hear anything," he muttered with a conspiring smile that he was sure she missed. She was too absorbed with staring at his hand on hers. Feeling nervous, a sensation he hadn't with girls in years, he let go and moved back. "Come on, I'll walk you up to the common room," he offered with a gesture back towards the castle. She just shook her head once in response.
"I'll follow you up," she added after a slight pause. "There's something I have to do," she muttered, completely oblivious to how mysterious she sounded. He nodded and began to make his way back down the bridge.
"Thanks Sirius," she called after him. He smiled at the gesture but smothered it as he turned one last time to face her.
"Don't stay out here too long, you'll catch your death," he muttered, not knowing quite how to respond to the gratitude. The slight smile that graced her face was enough for him to know that she understood how he felt. Perhaps Luna Prince and he didn't have so little in common after all, he considered as he wandered back towards the castle, blowing hot air into his hands as he walked.
….
Hermione wandered the winding corridors of the familiar school lethargically. She had a destination in mind, she just wasn't very anxious to reach her old hideout that she'd shared so many memories with Ron and Harry. Even the thought of her old friends sent an ache through her heart. Her brief time with Sirius had been surprisingly therapeutic. She was well aware that the old man from her time that had been haunted by Azkaban, had always held a soft spot for her. Ever since she'd flown on the back of a hippogriff to rescue him from the corruption of the Ministry he'd treated her like she was his own godchild. Although she hadn't shared the same inconsolable grief as Harry about his demise she had indeed been deeply disturbed and saddened by his passing. For her his premature end had cemented the start of something terrible far more than the murder of Cedric Diggory ever could.
Belatedly she noticed she had reached her journey's end. Staring at the blank piece of wall she hesitated for a moment, unsure of her own actions. With a determined deep breath she paced three times with a singular thought in her mind.
I need the Room of Hidden Things
The large wooden double door appeared without much fanfare, looking as inviting as ever. She pushed both open with one large thrust. Immediately she was assaulted with the stale scent of the lost that seemed to permeate the air. She'd been in too much of a rush the last time she'd hurried through the room to ever notice anything as trivial as a smell. She closed the doors behind her, confident in the knowledge that they would disappear on the other side.
Absentmindedly she followed the same path that Harry had led her down all those weeks ago. Every turn through the large mounds of hidden things seemed almost instinctual rather than based on a memory. With a sigh she reached out and brushed her hand over the dusty brooms that Ron had ridden with her as she passed. She remembered how she'd clung to him so tightly, they'd just shared their first kiss. She had been so sure in that moment of her love for him. So definite that one day she'd marry him and that they'd be happy forever, that everything in their lives would fall into place when the evil man that had occupied their thoughts was gone. How naïve she'd been.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, knowing that just around the next corner was the only thing in the castle that could really frighten her anymore. She remembered how she'd paused similarly in the Shrieking Shack just before she'd found Severus Snape's body, just before this had all happened. How she longed to scream at herself to leave that horrible house, to walk back towards the castle and spend the rest of her life happy. Just like that day however, she didn't save herself the terrible sight.
The Diadem of Ravenclaw was stunning and looked like it belonged in the Queens' chambers rather than the dusty Room of Requirement. She moved slowly towards it before coming to a stop right in front of it. Perhaps a year ago she wouldn't have felt the darkness that shrouded the magical object but after spending several months with a horcrux around her neck she was well accustomed to the innate evil that seemed to saturate her surroundings. She had long since come to terms with the fact that she wasn't the same girl that had taught DADA in this very room. She knew the taste of darkness and that was something you just didn't forget, no matter how much you tried.
Reaching out with a shaking hand Hermione let it hover over the cursed crown. Immediately she heard the familiar whispers surround her, murmuring all her fears on a ghastly loop in her mind. Masochistically she held her hand in place as long as she could physically tolerate it before she staggered backwards almost knocking a pile of newspapers in the process. A sheen of sweat was developing on her forehead and she felt as weak as she had when she'd first awakened in the past. She sighed, she was out of practice with enduring the darkness.
With a sigh Hermione lowered herself heavily onto the grubby ground until she was sitting cross legged in front of the diadem. She knew it was evil but there was something comforting about sitting across from the enemy, it meant they couldn't sneak up behind her.
"You ruined my life," she hissed angrily at the only part of the antagonist of her story she had access to. "And now you're going to ruin all these peoples' lives and I have to sit back and watch it happen," she murmured angrily, relieved she finally had someone to blame.
"I hope it hurts when Harry ends you," she spat furiously. A few minutes passed but she didn't rise to leave, instead she just sat and watched as the jewels of the circlet glittered madly in the dim light of the room, wondering how something so beautiful was now ruined forever.
Please please please review. It really does help you guys :) I thought it would be fun to write a Moody from before his Order days bit, things are really starting to pick up now :)