Author's Note: Yes, I know, this one took a little longer. It couldn't be helped. Just because I haven't mentioned it in a while -- Harry Potter and co. do not belong to me. If they did, Book 6 would have gone a lot differently.
Many thanks to my wonderful betas Potion Mistress and Keladry. Any remaining mistakes are all mine and I would appreciate you guys letting me know if you spot any.
-C
Ch 21: Unravelling
Miranda Vector had thought long and hard about Albus' offer to join the "Inner Circle" of the Order of the Phoenix. There were pros and cons for both joining and not joining. She had, of course, sat down and seriously weighed the options that were presented to her. As the closest thing the wizarding world possessed to both a mathematician and statistician, Miranda Vector was rather good at weighing options.
She liked calculating the probabilities of success and failure. She liked having weighted values and knowing the value of diminishing returns. She liked knowing what she was getting into before she got into it. She was not, after all, a Gryffindor. She would never leap before looking. She was an extremely prudent Ravenclaw who would not only look, but drop a measuring string down the other side, take a few measurements, snap a wizarding photo or two, calculate the odds and then jump.
Or not.
Because really, why jump when just walking down to the other side was vastly safer and eminently more practical?
Miranda being Miranda, she'd taken a few days and done a few calculations and drew a few probability lines using some of her better Arithmantic calculations. She was, after all, an Arithmancer, and a damn good one, if she did say so herself. Ultimately, she'd decided that Albus was correct and that her skills were needed on a more immediate basis. Of course, that decision had been partially based on a rather ugly convergence she'd noticed in the main probability matrix that pointed at something serious happening between Voldemort and the Order's spy. A convergence that predicated the meeting between the Order's spy and the mysterious, and rather annoying, rogue line.
So, decision made, she'd gone back to Albus' little sea cliff home to tell him that she was accepting his offer. She'd been in the midst of explaining one of her pro/con decision trees when an elf had appeared before the two of them. Performing what was probably the most perfunctory bow that she'd ever seen any Hogwarts elf make to the Headmaster, the elf had stated in a tone of voice that brooked no disagreement, "Brolly is to bring the Headmaster now."
Albus, being Albus, on the other hand, had disagreed, although he'd disagreed with a genial smile on his weathered face. "I'm afraid that whatever it is will have to wait a bit. I'm rather busy at the moment, my dear fellow."
Albus, Miranda noted, was using that maddeningly calm and cheerful voice of his. The one that made you want to strangle him because you were panicking and he wasn't taking your panic with the seriousness it so richly deserved. She also noted that elves seemed no fonder of that tone than anyone else, if the ears twitching in agitation in front of her were any indication.
"Master of Hogwarts will come now," the elf repeated, a somewhat stubborn cast to his upraised chin.
Albus, in his own inimitable fashion, blithely went his own way and ignored the elf's increasing agitation. "Perhaps you could tell me your name and we can discuss where it is you wish me to go?"
Miranda watched as one elfin ear gave a rather jerky flap in response. She had not spent a lot of time with the house-elves. She called on her own Hogwarts' elf, Rilla, very seldom and rarely saw the elf, but she had a vague sense that this wasn't good.
"Miss said, 'Now'!"
That raised an eyebrow. Forceful house-elves . . . definitely not good.
She'd really no more completed the thought than her hand was seized by a surprisingly strong grip and she found herself, the headmaster, and the elf suddenly in the foyer of a strange house facing a rather pale and stricken-looking Hermione who was sitting at the bottom of a set of stairs.
"Professor Dumbledore," Miss Granger exclaimed, in what looked to be obvious relief before adding, "A-and Professor Vector," in something more resembling confusion.
Confusion was rather good. Miranda was feeling a mite confused herself. Still feeling the shock of being forcibly removed from Albus' kitchen table to wherever they currently were, Miranda still had the presence of mind to note that before disappearing, the elf that had abducted them had bowed quite low in obvious respect to Miss Granger.
In the words of a great Muggle mathematician who, as far as Miranda was concerned, should have been born a wizard . . . curiousier and curiousier.
As she walked out of St. Mungo's beside Healer Alverez, Hermione couldn't help but wonder about the fate that awaited her back at the Black house.
Will Dumbledore let me explain first before he hexes me? Or is he the type to cast spells and ask questions later? Maybe Dumbledore will be gone when we get back. Of course, if he is gone, it's probably because he's out somewhere, looking for me. He'd just be angrier when he returned.
Healer Alverez waved to Edelrod as they passed the front desk and mentioned she was making a house call. Hermione absently waved a good-bye at the scowling witch.
Best that he's still there then . . . but would the other Order members still be there? It has only been . . oh, God, an hour has passed. Is Snape even still alive?
She quickened her pace toward the doors and she was grateful when Alverez kept pace right along side of her, her Healer's bag swinging sharply in time to their steps.
Still raining, she thought, as they passed through the doors, although the thunder and lightning seem to have stopped.
"Miss Granger?"
Jolted out of her thoughts, Hermione turned to the Healer who was currently looking at her with a mixture of concern and amusement.
"You are looking a little nervous. Are you up to this?"
Am I? Guess we will soon find out. Giving what she hoped was a decisive nod, she led Healer Alverez around to the side of the building where they wouldn't be observed. Linking hands with the other witch, Hermione gave her what she hoped was a confident smile, rotated them a quarter turn and Apparated.
Somewhat to her surprise the two of them appeared, whole and hearty, under the old elm tree in the sad little square in front of Grimmauld Place.
I did it!
Granted, they had been about four inches off the ground when they appeared so the landing was a little shaky, but as the Muggle pilots say: Any landing you can walk away from . . . .
"You did it, my dear. Quite well done."
Hermione cast the Healer a beaming smile that quickly dropped from her face as she caught sight of the row of houses behind Alverez's shoulder. It was time to face the music.
If the other witch caught the worried look that suddenly appeared on Hermione's face, she didn't say anything, which Hermione was particularly thankful for. She wasn't sure if words of encouragement would be a good or a bad thing at this moment.
"Right then," the witch began. "Just remember to keep your wrist stiff when you perform the Somnambul Charm." Alverez took a quick look around, obviously noting the Muggle residential neighbourhood around them. "I'd also suggest a good cloaking spell since you are going to have to Levitate me to wherever we are going. Oh, almost forgot, you'll have to carry this," she said, handing Hermione her bag. "Medicinal potions don't typically mix well with random bits of magic. Best you hold on to it."
As Hermione stood a moment, Alverez gave her a warm smile. "Well, get on with girl, we've got a Potions professor to save."
Not feeling quite as confident as Healer Alverez, Hermione raised her wand and pronounced, "Somnambul," remembering to keep her wrist stiff during the movements.
Once the Healer was safely unconscious, Hermione Disillusioned and Moblicorpus-ed her. Heading across the square towards Grimmauld Place, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if this dread in the pit of her stomach was what Professor Snape felt when he went off to meet Voldemort.
A long time ago, Albus Dumbledore had learned to control his temper. As a young man, he'd noticed how people became afraid when he got angry. It certainly wasn't hard to make the connection between his anger and things around him blowing up, melting or simply disintegrating into dust. It was really about that time that he'd understood that by some trick of Fate, he was stronger magically than any other witch or wizard around him. And when he indulged in anger, people were afraid. Truth be told, there were days back then when Albus was rather afraid of himself and what he could do.
It was that fear that led to him to create the eccentric wizard persona that allowed him to shrug off those things that would have a lesser wizard pulling his wand and issuing dual challenges. The persona had grown with him over the years, from eccentric young man to dotty old man, and it had served him well.
Grindelwald had certainly been completely fooled and thoroughly surprised when with his dying breath he'd realised that the slightly crazy man who'd offered him tea and biscuits had just ended what should have been an unstoppable rise to world domination.
Simply put, Albus Dumbledore rarely lost his temper. And on those rare occasions when he did, it never lasted long.
At the moment, Albus Dumbledore was absolutely furious and had been for a good hour.
In response to that anger, Albus' usual impeccable control of his magic was weakening. Any witch, wizard, or magical creature with even a jot of magical sensitivity could feel the aura building about Dumbledore. In response, the Order members who had crowded into Grimmauld Place at hearing about Snape's return had quickly fled to safer environs.
He kept hearing Miss Granger's words: Then I'm making my choice. The infuriating part was that he had no idea where she had gone or what she was doing. He could have attempted to follow her, of course, but he needed to remain here. Half a dozen various scenarios had run through his head within moments of her disappearance, each more catastrophic than the last. If Voldemort got hold of her, Albus knew Harry would abandon everything in his attempts to get the girl back. They were facing a potential disaster.
Damn it all to hell and back again. They were finally ahead of Tom in this blasted war. The end was coming soon, and the girl had gone off on a lark.
He paced around the narrow foyer, his agitation needing some kind of outlet. He might have expected this kind of reckless behaviour from Harry or even from Ron Weasley, but he'd always considered Miss Granger to have a firmer head on her shoulders.
Where is that girl?
As if his mental shout had conjured her, the front door opened to admit a bedraggled Hermione Granger, her wand raised and focussed behind her. Harnessing his own magic, Albus concentrated and made out the wavering form of a Disillusioned body.
Merlin preserve them all. The girl had figured out the Fidelius' blind spot and was bringing a stranger into the house.
Hermione froze when she saw Dumbledore standing in the foyer, looking for all the world like the epitome of a wrathful wizard. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she took the last few steps into the house being careful to set Healer Alverez down as gently as she could. Unfortunately, her attention slipped from the door, which was caught by the still-gusting wind, causing it to swing shut with a reverberating slam.
Several things happened then: Mrs Black roared into a full Mudblood-and-traitors tirade, Dumbledore's expression seemed to darken even further, and everyone who'd been hiding from Albus in the library came spilling out into the foyer to find out what had caused the noise.
Caught like the proverbial deer in headlights by a dozen pairs of eyes, all Hermione could think was: Bloody, blooming hell.
Professor Dumbledore was still frowning at her, his brushy brows drawn down almost to a point over his nose.
"Go to the library."
When Hermione hesitated, looking down at the still Disillusioned Healer, Dumbledore spoke again. "Now, Miss Granger. I will take care of your guest."
Hermione was a little worried about the way in which Dumbledore stressed the word guest, but she decided that now probably wasn't the right time to argue. Shoulders slumped in a mixture of dread and exhaustion she walked down the hallway towards those still gathered outside the library door. Feeling very much like she was being weighed and judged, she tried to catch Ron's and Harry's eyes, looking for support. The confusion and upset in both of their faces made her hang her head a little lower.
Once in the library, Hermione headed for her favourite chair by the fireplace. Taking her seat, she waited for the first question and was a bit unnerved at the silence around her. Glancing up through curls made even wilder and frizzier by the rain, Hermione noted that everyone had taken seats around the room facing her.
Ron and Harry were carrying on a whispered conversation from the windowseat that involved repeated looks in her direction. Ginny was staring at her with her head cocked to one side. With her red hair, she reminded Hermione of an Irish Setter, but the mental image brought forth no sense of mirth.
Fred and George had taken seats on the floor where they could lean up against one of the bookcases and both were watching her with an avid interest, as if she were going to sprout horns at any moment and they wanted to make sure that they didn't miss it.
Like Harry and Ron, Tonks and Remus were carrying on a whispered conversation from the threadbare couch they were sharing with Mr and Mrs Weasley.
Moody had both real and magical eyes focussed on her. It was a rather disconcerting feeling.
Professor Vector . . . then she remembered that Vector had arrived with Professor Dumbledore. She'd been surprised at the time, but it had slipped her mind during the ensuring chaos. Oddly enough, Professor Vector was staring at her, too. At least it wasn't with the same look of confusion and disappointment as from the others, but her intense regard, a look that the Arithmancy Mistress usually reserved for complex equations, rather unnerved Hermione.
Fidgeting, she crossed and uncrossed her legs and glanced around the room again. Harry and Ron's whispered conversation took on a more heated air with Harry gesturing fiercely in her direction.
What was the old saying about no good deed going unpunished?
She wondered what was keeping Dumbledore. It was obvious that the headmaster had seen through the Disillusionment spell, otherwise he'd have never mentioned her 'guest.' Harry had mentioned that Dumbledore had that talent. Briefly she wondered if that was an affect of his age or his magical strength, before dismissing the thought as not really relevant to the situation at hand.
She crossed and uncrossed her legs again and then tucked a wayward curl behind her left ear. Remus and Tonks had finished their conversation and now both were watching her.
She sighed. What was taking so long? It wasn't like Dumbledore didn't know the Somnambul Charm since it was the same charm he'd used on her during the underwater portion of the Triwizard Tournament. He should have been able to remove it easily. Did I do the charm wrong? Is he having problems lifting it? Surely I didn't mess it up. It was one of the sleeps I studied when I was doing all the research on all the various sleeping spells for Professor Snape. I'm sure I got it. I think.
She crossed her legs again, swinging her foot rapidly back and forth.
This is ridiculous. Someone needs to say something.
Her right hand index finger started a nervous tapping in counterpoint to her swinging leg. Fine. I'll say something.
"I –"
Hermione stopped at the sound of raised voices coming through the door.
She could truthfully say that she'd never heard the headmaster yell, but there was no mistaking that it was his voice raised in anger.
At the unmistakable sounds of an unknown woman's voice, everyone in the room was on their feet with wands drawn. Hermione noticed that Moody's magical eye was now rotated so that he was looking through the far wall and into the foyer beyond.
Fearing that they might charge into the hall with wands blazing, Hermione spoke up. "It's all right. I went to St. Mungo's for a Healer. Her name is Healer Alverez, and she's here to help Professor Snape."
"Fool girl," Moody ground out, right before Albus' distant voice rose loudly enough for everyone to now hear the shouted words clearly.
"I am most certainly not being unreasonable in this. While I appreciate your willingness to exercise your talents in this matter, you will NOT be staying. Miss Granger wilfully disregarded her safety and the safety of all those fighting against Tom by pulling this stunt."
"Oh, give it a rest, Albus. The girl did what you were too scared to do. You need a few new opinions around here anyway. Inbreeding, Albus – bad for bloodlines and mysterious underground Orders."
Albus? Healer Alverez was calling the headmaster Albus? Does that mean that they know each other? Any further musings on that subject was cut off as the library door opened, the two verbal combatants striding through, only to confront each other again as they crossed the threshold.
"This does not concern you, Arrosa."
They do know each other, she thought.
"I beg to differ," Healer Alverez snapped out. "This does concern me. It concerns the whole of the wizarding world and you are no better than the Ministry with your games and lies and secret Orders." She made a noise of derision. "Let me guess, you've even got a secret handshake."
At that comment, Hermione noticed that the George, or Fred, one of the two, let out an almost silent "Oooh," of awe at the Healer's words, although, whether at the idea of a secret handshake or the very audacity of her comment, Hermione wasn't sure.
The slight noise was enough though to bring the headmaster back to his senses with an almost visible snap. He glowered around the room at the silent audience before turning the full force of his glare back on Alverez.
Hermione noted that Alverez didn't even cringe at that heated stare.
When the headmaster finally spoke, his tone was much more controlled, although the anger was still easily heard. Hermione just wasn't sure at this point if the anger was still directed at her or at Healer Alverez.
"We are getting off track. Miss Granger brought you here to check on Severus. I took you upstairs and you've looked at him. How is he?"
Healer Alverez threw up her hands in exasperation. "Eh, so now you ask?"
Dumbledore, however, was managing to keep hold of his temper, but it was a close thing, in Hermione's estimation. "Arrosa. . ." he ground out, his voice low.
Alverez pressed her lips together and let out a breath through her nose before answering. "He was hurt very badly. I stabilised him for the moment, not," she sniped, "that you let me have a whole lot of time with him. He will require extensive healing. That curse left a lot of damage along his nerves and especially along the magical pathways. However, his condition is considerably worsened by old injuries, magical and non-magical. He's going to be weak and in considerable pain for several weeks. Personally, I'd be surprised if he was up and functioning one hundred percent before the new term begins."
At her words, Hermione noticed that the anger seemed to drain out of the headmaster.
"That bad?"
The Healer's face twisted. "Yes, that bad." She gave a derisive snort, but it too lacked the heat of their early argument. "You have no idea the shape he's in, do you? Let me guess, he's been telling you he's fine all this time and you just agree with him because it's convenient."
"That is enough, Arrosa."
She shook her head, grey curls bouncing around her head. "Actually, I don't think it's near enough. It's about time that someone told you the truth about how things really are." She flung out a hand to encompass the room. "It certain that this lot won't tell you what they really think. They're all too bloody in awe of you. Your Miss Granger quite probably saved the man's life."
Hermione winced at hearing her name brought up in the conversation again. While Healer Alverez seemed immune to Professor Dumbledore's anger, she wasn't.
"Miss Granger has disregarded the rules. She has acted in an impulsive and completely thoughtless manner that could have seriously endangered both herself and the Order."
"Hoist by your own petard, eh, Albus? You're angry with the girl for acting like the Gryffindor she is? If that is the case, Albus Dumbledore, you should have populated your merry band with a few more Houses. Asclepius, help! If Severus is the only Slytherin amongst you lot, it's a wonder he's not gone mad."
"The identities of those who make up the Order are of no consequence to you," Albus said, rather stiffly.
Alverez laughed then. "Merlin's balls! He is, isn't he," she said, more statement than question. "So much for inter-House alliance. You're a fraud, Albus."
Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height and it looked like the shouting match was about to begin again, when Remus Lupin interrupted with a quiet voice question. "Albus, who is this woman?"
Alverez, in what Hermione was quickly realising was her style, answered for herself. "Healer Arrosa Alverez, Head of the Spell Damage Ward at St. Mungo's." She took a quick look around the room at the people gathered there. "Moody," she nodded in the direction of the ex-Auror. "Good to see that arm is still attached."
From the grins of delight on the Weasley twins' faces, Hermione guessed that they also knew the Healer. But then again, considering how many things they typically blew up with their 'pranks,' they were probably on a first name basis with all the Healers in the Spell Damage Ward at St. Mungo's.
"So," Moody said, "Snape's in a bad way and goin' to need looking after. That right?"
"That is correct, Mr. Moody."
"Sure as bloody hell none of the rest of us wants to play nurse-maid to Snape. The girl can't be trusted out of anyone's sight and she should be barred from further proceedings. She put herself into this position for that bastard. Let her take care of him."
"Alastor is correct. Whether warranted or not, Miss Granger acted without authority in bringing you to this place and as such must face the consequences of her actions."
It was on the tip of Hermione's tongue to protest and leap to Professor Snape's defence. Of course, that was what a Gryfindor would do, the inner voice that sounded suspiciously like Snape's pointed out. Then again, this lot would never expect Slytherin word games and cunning from her.
She sent a silent apology to Snape before letting her face twist into a semblance of the same repugnance that was showing on Ron and Harry's.
Looking frantically around the room, she said, "You can't mean for me to take care of him. I just didn't want him to die. If I have to take care of him, I'd have to be with him for hours. It would be like a whole day of Potions class." She added a bit of desperate whinge to her voice. "He hates me!"
"Miss Granger, by your own actions and disregard for the rules of the Order, I have no choice but to enact a punishment upon you. As you have shown that you are not the adult I had given you credit for being. For the rest of the summer I am revoking your access to Order meetings. You will no longer be privy to our discussions, nor take part in strategy meetings." Dumbledore sent a quelling glance around the room. "Misters Potter and Weasley, as well as Miss Weasley, will also be sworn to discuss nothing with you."
Hermione hung her head, more in embarrassment than real shame. Even given this punishment, she'd do it all again in a heartbeat.
"Look at me, Miss Granger."
Hermione lifted her head to meet the Headmaster's eyes – now more the colour of flinty steel than their usual soft twinkling blue. "I've also decided that Alastor's suggestion is not without merit. You will take down Arrosa's instructions on what Severus will need for his coming recovery. You are henceforth at his beck and call and will serve those tasks that are typically performed by the house-elves, as the elves here at the Black house have other duties they are performing."
Hermione dropped her head before Professor Dumbledore could read the triumph in her eyes. She lowered her voice, mimicking Harry at his most uncooperative and sullen as she intoned, "Yes, sir."
"Miss Granger, please take Healer Alverez upstairs to Professor Snape's room. Arrosa will need time to complete her healing. I will be along momentarily to discuss what we will do about this breach in our security."
Alverez, lips compressed tightly in anger, said stiffly, "Come on," before she headed out of the library.
Hermione followed meekly behind until she practically ran into Healer Alverez's back when the witch stopped unexpectedly in the hallway. Hermione was completely shocked when the Healer stuck a finger under her chin and raised Hermione's face up to the light. Alverez stared solemnly at her for a few tense seconds before she gave a short bark of laughter.
"I knew it. I can see it in your eyes. The old goat's underestimated you -- Slytherin cunning in a Gryffindor girl. You, my dear, are going to go far."
Hermione started to protest but Alverez waved her off. "Don't bother. I've got the lay of you. Now, come along and I'll explain what Severus is likely to need until he wakes up and what can be done for him afterwards to speed up his recovery."
Miranda had sat back and watched the entire drama unfold, her eyes swinging back and forth between the combatants. Whoever this Healer was, she had been good. As far as Miranda knew, only Severus had ever been able to wind Albus up into a good fit of madness. This woman though, she had had the old man practically frothing. It was . . . awe inspiring. Miranda felt rather sorry for Snape that he had missing it.
End Chapter 21.
Okay, I know nekkid Severus should have been there but the argument lasted longer than I thought it would. Snape rehabilitation will start next chapter.
And no whinging from you guys about this chapter being short – nine pages of Arial 10 pt. is not short.