New chapter, just in the nick of time here in France so that I'm still able to say I posted it in 2016...

Wishing you happiness and a great year!

All hail Tra8erse for her always useful corrections and comments!

Are we going down or will we fly?

(Tyron Wells, Sink or swim)

So, he was to be saddled with the Dream Team.

Severus had expected Potter to jump at the opportunity to interrogate him. It went without saying that Weasley would not be far behind him.

He could even admit that Kingsley was doing him a favour by assigning them to his case and making them his close protection. Whatever their personal feelings, the two young men were Order members and would follow the line decided by Minerva and Kingsley.

He had not anticipated Granger though, and soundly berated himself for it.

When Potter insisted on installing a Floo at Spinner's End, he just assumed that Constanz would call often enough and probably have one of the physiotherapists assign him new routines, too. He never expected they would enlist Hermione Granger, too, and he should have.

She was going to be a hindrance. She used to be much too observant and discerning. Now that she was a healer, she would probably recognise suspect smells or spot unusual stiffness in his limbs that the Aurors would not.

He would have to be extra careful and wait until the last minute to act.

Annoyed, he tapped his fingers on his knee. The trio were obviously still as close as ever, and it would be even harder to fool them.

Harry Potter had impressed him with his professional confidence and his ability to sweet-talk even his hated Potions master. Unless Severus was much mistaken, Potter was Minister material now and Shacklebolt was already grooming him for the role. He did not think it would be long before he was at least Head Auror, the usual first step to power.

Granger surprised him, too, in a good way. After Neville Longbottom, after Harry Potter, and even Seamus Finnegan, here was another of his former students – child soldiers, he should call them in truth– who turned out mature, not visibly traumatized and, even more impressively, not hostile.

He had no doubt by now that Hermione Granger was the overachieving intern whose arrival he had overheard Constanz announce to the staff.

He was surprised at first, when Minerva told him that, unlike Potter, Weasley and Longbottom, she had refused all the very tempting offers from the Ministry. She had been right, of course. They would have turned the know-it-all into an overbearing harridan who would have made staunch enemies as she tried to impose her point of view and turned every promotion and career move into a constant battle.

St Mungo's would be good for her and she would be good for St Mungo's. Her Robin Hood ways would find the proper channel in helping people who truly needed and wanted help—unlike her well-meaning but misguided campaign for the house elves.

And she was turning out very well as a woman too, he could not help noticing.

She now wore neat, short curls which suited her admirably, instead of the unmanageable bush that had used to be her sorry excuse for a hairstyle. Of course, cutting her hair usually has a great significance for a woman. He was curious to know what could have prompted the change. A sentimental rupture? A declaration of independence? A gauntlet thrown at the still very prejudiced wizarding world?

Somehow, he was sure that Narcissa approved of Granger's looks, as she obviously approved of her friendship with Draco if he was to believe her written account of the visits of the Muggleborn to Malfoy Manor.

He had to admit that the young witch was one of the few people who managed to look impressive in the acid-green Healer robes. She had the countenance of someone who had looked death in the face and the confidence of the truly passionate professionals, that could not be affected by the ridiculous robes. Coupled with the no-nonsense haircut, it gave her great poise—something he would not have expected from the insecure, exasperating goody-two-shoes who was forever trying to gain his approval at school – as if a Death Eater could afford to praise a Muggleborn!

He wondered if she was still infatuated with the Weasley boy. This one he still had really to interact with, and he would then have a clearer idea of what the coming weeks in Spinner's End would be like.

The youngest Weasley boy had grown up swallowing every single bait laid for him by the twins and particularly when it came to the most outrageous rumours about their Potions master. It made him even more insolent than his friends, but it had helped Severus immensely with playing the villain with Potter's class, as his outrageous stories and opinions prepared them to always believe the worst about him. Ronald Weasley was one of the most impulsive boys Severus had ever taught: lazy, whiny, stubborn and opinionated… But he also had a keen analytical mind when he could be bothered to use it, a lot of courage and loyalty he must have inherited from his parents.

Severus could not help being curious about what the war had made of Ronald Weasley. You did not get an Order of Merlin just for being Harry Potter's friend, and there was always much more to any child of Molly Weasley's than simply their good looks.

He had heard nothing but praise from Shacklebolt about the young man's Auror training. He indeed looked and acted very professional the few times he had been standing guard for him, even if they never shared more than nods and minimal greetings. A point in his favour was that he did not flinch or react anymore when Severus tried to unsettle him with one of his famous glares.

Snape thought fatalistically that it was only for eight weeks anyway, and then, good-bye Britain. He had much better things to plan than speculating on the lives and personalities of former students.

He snorted. Who was he fooling? Harry Potter's presence at Spinner's End could well prove even more nerve-racking than accommodating the Rat who had betrayed Lily.

§§§

"You will need to be particularly careful."

Snape was lecturing the trio inside the collective Pensieve he had asked Harry Potter to bring from the Ministry, taking them on an extensive visit of his house.

Snape was sans billowing teaching robes these days, but they found that his performance was not affected in the least.

"There are blood wards on the house. Four generations of Snapes and two generations of Princes tied in by my mother, just to say how powerful they are. In fact, it's the only reason I kept that rat hole."

That, and the fact that it's much more difficult to spy on and monitor a wizard in a muggle area.

He warned sternly, "There are also a few innovations of mine in terms of property protection. So, you can enter here with the password of the day..." He was guiding them through the main entrance, "...and here."

Who would choose to enter their own home through a kitchen window, wondered Ron – but then, who was paranoid enough to change their home password every day, apart from Snape, of course?

"...but not here, and definitely not there." Here being a rotten back garden door and there the basement windows. "You'll also want to avoid this area..." - the garden shed- "...this area, that area, and there too, unless you're with me or with Moppy."

So, basically the garden, the whole basement with Snape's lab, the master bedroom and the attic were off-limits.

Harry did not seem to see anything amiss, even if he was to spend practically all his time in the house.

Hermione instantly pursed her lips at the mention of the house elf.

Ron only rolled his eyes, as much at Harry's stern refusal to admit how difficult living with Snape was going to be, as at the prospect of being constantly on edge for his own safety… rather than that of the wizard he was supposed to protect.

With as much irony as he was capable of, he said, "I suppose we're lucky you didn't trap the loo."

"Not since Pettigrew stayed with me."

They laughed at the deadpan answer but stopped abruptly and watched in awe as a glimpse of a memory with a terrified, whimpering Wormtail passed by, showing that Snape was perfectly serious.

Snape then detailed which pieces of furniture were safe and which were not when he was not present in the room. There was no explanation as to the why, certainly not about the how, and no overture either to discuss whether Snape would cancel any of the traps to accommodate them.

They would have to stay on their guard all the time – take it or leave it.

Of course, smiled Hermione inwardly. The house in Spinner's End might be a sad place but not only was Severus Snape a deeply private man, it was the only place that was truly and solely his. He would not take any type of intrusion well, even one meant for his own good.

The Malfoys, Snape… She could see the recurring theme. It was not that they enjoyed being maligned, but they used their reputations as an armour and consoled themselves with the idea that the joke was on the rest of the world.

Hermione sensed intuitively that the house was another very Slytherin sort of statement. Snape was one the most powerful wizards she had met and he owned a house elf – shame on him! It had to be a choice to leave dusty spider webs to hang down from the ceiling, mouldy wallpaper to peel in the corners or drawer handles to dangle without bothering to fix them. By leaving his family home so shabby and poor, he proclaimed that he owed nothing to the wizarding world. That he refused any kind of compromise, because he did not care what people thought of him.

She could not account otherwise for the sharp contrast between the state-of-the-art, impeccable private lab they were only allowed to catch a glimpse of, and the dreary, almost dilapidated living quarters. It would have been so easy for a wizard to improve them, even without much money. Malfoy had offered to send his elves to refurbish but, apparently not for the first time, Snape only agreed to the cleaning—and then only by his personal house elf.

With some kind of sadistic relish, which confirmed to Hermione the accuracy of her analysis, Snape warned, "It's nothing if not a hovel. You'll have to Apparate in the neighbourhood, here or here, and walk there. The house isn't linked to the Floo."

"Yet," said Harry, for the first time since Snape began the lecture about Spinner's End.

Snape did not answer him and abruptly turned towards Hermione, "Until then, you will need to ask Potter or Weasley to walk with you. The area isn't safe."

Her first reflex was to feel affronted that he thought she might not be able to take care of herself but she quickly reconsidered. After all, she still had more than her fair share of cold sweats when she walked alone in the streets and she dreaded to think what a wizard like Severus Snape would find unsafe.

So, she asked, "What do you mean, not safe?"

"The city council pretend they have a regeneration plan for the area somewhere but there is just nothing left for decent people to wish to live here. You'll find that most houses are run down. There are plenty of squatters, illegals, junkies, drug dealers..." He waved his hand as he stopped enumerating all the dodgy people living in Spinner's End. "It's simply dangerous to walk there. Think Knockturn Alley, and you won't be far off the mark."

Swift visions of the scenes like she had only ever seen on sensationalist TV flashed by as Snape threw strands of memory around them in the Pensieve. Some disturbingly reminded her of the Snatchers.

"You get the idea," he said, with an air of indifference. "It's the sort of area where the police has to escort the emergency services." With a sardonic smile, he concluded, "Welcome to Spinner's End."

The sarcasm was a challenge, too — the same kind Harry used when someone commiserated about his childhood, and he would lift his chin up and say that, yes, he used to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs and it was rather comfy, thank you.

She refused to be like the condescending people who would taunt Harry or Severus Snape for their background and said softly, "I promise to be careful."

He turned sharply to another memory – in the same way he had ignored her in class when he could not find an excuse to deduct points. "Once you're through the gate, you've nothing to fear. There are charms to repel Muggles, but they are old enough not to draw attention if someone's watching us." He wrinkled his brow and looked at Harry with suspicion. "Unless the Aurors thought it amusing to remove them when they last searched the house?"

Harry shook his head, "The Ministry deemed it more prudent to leave the house as it is."

"Which means they prefer to steer clear of it," concluded Snape with great satisfaction.

Slightly vexed at the implied criticism of his colleagues' competence , Harry retorted, "They could have just torn the place apart, you know."

Snape sneered at Harry's poor attempt at irony, "They're welcome to try." He chuckled, "In fact, they did try when I was on the run. I understand there were casualties."

"Yes," admitted Harry. "They came up with a solution in the end, but it would involve blowing up a part of Cokeworth."

Snape's little smile turned definitely smug.

"I don't suppose you would agree to give any of us full access for the duration of the trial?" asked Harry, for form's sake.

"No."

In the pregnant silence that followed, Snape clarified, "Frankly, even if I were inclined to do so, I currently haven't the strength. Apart from Moppy, Lucius is the only one who has ever had full access, and even he doesn't know how to dismantle the protections."

Ron almost laughed out loud as he watched Hermione's eyes narrow once again at the mention of Snape's house elf. It was just like waving the red rag at a bull.

They had not met the infamous Moppy yet, except through a few glimpses in Snape's memories of his lab or of the garden, but Draco Malfoy had told Hermione about the house elf when the two met for tea which has by now become something of a ritual.

For once, she had come home really annoyed with Draco 'Pureblood' Malfoy – which was good, of course, from Ron's point of view, but not exactly fair. It was not the ferret's fault that his godfather had a house elf, after all, and it was not as if Ron himself did not find it awfully convenient to have even a miserable pain in the neck like Kreacher take care of the worst chores at Grimmauld Place... But of course, Ron was not such a glutton for punishment that he would say it aloud, unlike that idiot Draco.

§§§

Feeling strangely bereft at the thought that her hero was a slave-owner, Hermione protested rather blandly, in spite of the fact that Draco had just confirmed it. "Professor Snape really owns a house elf?" Surely, it was a joke.

Draco could not help a guffaw, "Sort of."

Quite affronted that he would speak without giving the matter proper consideration, she asked sharply,"What do you mean, sort of? Does he own a magical creature or not?"

The blond chuckled, "In this case, I'm not sure who owns whom. Moppy is not your typical house elf."

Ignoring Hermione's mulish look, Draco explained, "She was once a Prince elf."

He knew it would catch her interest. "They chucked her out after Severus's mother eloped with her Muggle – supposedly because she knew about it, though I don't know what she could have done if she was ordered not to speak about it... But then, I've always heard that the Princes were nutcases – at least, according to my grandfather. Moppy ended up at Hogwarts like so many others..." his voice trailed off and he flushed unhappily as he remembered Dobby. He went on rather lamely, "In short, she had a sentimental preference for Slytherin and always wanted to be assigned there. When Severus became a teacher, she recognised his mother in a photo while cleaning his rooms."

"Of course, he couldn't do it himself!" she said, forgetting that she had relied on the house elves, too, and nearly provoked a riot in Gryffindor when the elves went on strike and refused to clean the place for fear of picking up one of her knitted attempts at freeing them.

Draco merely shrugged. "Every teacher has at least one or two house elves attached to their service. Of course, they do not do the house chores themselves. When would they have the time with all their duties? And they need help with a lot of things. Tidying up and preparing their classrooms, their teaching materials…" Seeing that she did not relent, he asked, "I understand your parents had their own practice?"

"Yes," she answered curtly, already sure where he was going.

"I don't think they had the time to clean their labs and their home on top of everything else?"

"They employed," she said with some force, "assistants and a cleaning lady."

"Well, in the wizarding world, people employ house elves."

"No!" she said through gritted teeth. "Wizards employ other people. They own house elves. It is not the same. The Elves Law is a very literal copy of serfdom laws. Serfdom was abolished because if was degrading to human beings but nobody ever spoke against the Elves Law."

"It is much more complicated than that," answered Draco sharply, because she was beginning to get on his nerves with her stubbornness. "And you know it, if you're honest. Serfdom was abolished because society was changing and it was not mutually beneficial any more. It is still beneficial for the house elves."

"I don't see..."

Draco interrupted her, "Do you want to know about Moppy or not?"

She glared, pursed her lips but nodded, rather aggressively.

Draco continued, "Once Moppy realised that Severus was the son of Eileen Prince, he could not get rid of her. He had no choice in the matter. She literally threw herself at him, like elves are wont to, and petitioned, or whatever it is Hogwarts elves do, to Dumbledore."

"She was free. He should have..."

"For Pete's sake, Hermione! Grow up! The elves know what they want and what we need. You can't deny they know what to offer! They're darned useful, as anyone will tell you, and they need us to take care of them. Hermione! What are you… Eh! Wait!"

She had already stormed off, leaving him to deal with the canaries.

§§§

Of course, Hermione being Hermione, she just could not let the elves business go when she found the opportunity.

Harry asked her to plan and organise the details of his stay at Snape's. She pestered the Professor with – in his opinion – absolutely useless, trivial household matters. He dismissed her concerns summarily, "I don't care either way. If it's so important to you and for Potter, you can sort it out with Moppy."

She instantly flared up. "How convenient – though, I must say I didn't take you for that kind of wizard."

He straightened instantly, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, but Hermione, now in high dudgeon, did not care. "How can you have a poor elf tied to your will when you know what it is to serve two awfully demanding masters?"

He froze. Almost literally, as proved by the arctic, condescending tone of his answer. "You do not know the first thing about house elves, Granger. I would have thought you'd done your homework on the subject by now."

"I know slavery when I see it," she said, crossing her arms defiantly. "And it's Healer Granger."

Severus watched, quite fascinated as her hair ruffled up. She obviously still did not have a clue it was doing this and that it revealed her mood. It was subtler that Tonks's changing colours, which had been an endless if hidden source of merriment for him when he taught the metamorphmagus. He had occasionally noticed Granger's hair trying to twist up at Hogwarts in a sure indication of her foul mood, but he supposed that the sheer mass of it weighed it down then and made it much less obvious.

It was all the more comical because she had a rather round bosom, and crossing her arms as she did, unconsciously displayed her assets, too. In fact, she looked very much like one of the manor's peacocks when it was about to fan its tail.

With an infuriating little smirk that she did not understand, he asked a little too suavely, "So, you think that I treat Moppy like barbarians treated their slaves?"

To her credit, she did not get flustered. "I did not say that! But, however well treated, elves are slaves!"

"However badly treated," he said dismissively, "elves are not slaves."

She was outraged. "Yes, they are."

Snape tapped his lips with a finger, while considering Hermione with amusement, which did nothing to calm her ire.

"I can't understand why you won't recognise how fundamentally wrong it is to enslave another sentient being, Professor. You of all people..."

"Miss Granger," he interrupted.

"Healer Granger!" she almost shouted, determined to wrangle proper respect at least for herself, since he did not respect the house elves.

"Healer Granger," he said, with a nod and a smile. She did not realise immediately that Severus Snape knew how to smile, but this mellowed her a little. "It seems you labour under a misconception that is common for people who have never actually dealt with house elves." She opened her mouth, but he was already asking, with a surprising courtesy, "May I ask where and when you obtained your knowledge about the house elves?"

"At Hogwarts, of course. I discovered the plight of the house elves in my Second Year with Dobby. I expect you knew him?" she asked in an arch way.

He merely nodded.

"But it was not until I actually saw how Barty Crouch treated and threw out Winky that I realised something was wrong. I searched the Library and it was very obvious..."

"Yes, I know," he interrupted rudely. "But did you look for information outside of Hogwarts? At the Ministry or any of the other libraries?"

She was startled. "No. I've never had the opportunity."

Snape stared into space, his lips tightly pursed, obviously considering something unpalatable.

"It seems you have never had the means to understand the very basis of elves's needs," he said pensively. Looking her straight in the eyes, he said, "In brief, they are symbiotic creatures."

Startled, she gaped at him. She barely managed, "I beg your pardon?"

"You failed to learn this one basic truth during your little SPEW campaign..."

"It was S.P.E.W." she protested feebly.

His lips twitched but he did not deign to acknowledge the interruption, "...And this is the main reason it was bound to fail from the first."

Her eyes blazed, but she clamped her mouth shut and did not answer.

Remarkable… for a Gryffindor. His voice was a little gentler as he said, "As surprising as it may sound, coming from me, I'm not trying to... disparage your efforts."

They stared at each other until she nodded stiffly.

"You must know," he said with a sadistic relish, "that Dumbledore found your badges so funny that he discouraged your Head of House from explaining the true situation of the elves. He told her that something interesting might come out of your misinformed efforts because your heart was generous. Or something to that effect... The usual sentimental Gryffindorian drivel... I thought he actually liked seeing someone whose knitting skills were even poorer than his."

She huffed a little, but only half-annoyed if her amused pout was any proof, "I think you're just trying to change the subject."

"Not at all. He inflicted too many badly knitted scarves and socks on me over the years for me to forgive easily. Not to mention the colours."

She could not help the little giggle that escaped her. It even seemed to please him but his tone was serious as he went on, "I did not realise for a very long time that Dumbledore really went out of his way to ensure that you and your friends never learnt about the house elves… but also that neither Draco nor myself had a chance to hear Dobby's true story."

She sighed unhappily, "Why am I not surprised?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I am disappointed... once again," she said, "but I can't say I'm surprised. After what he's done to you, and to Harry, I've come to expect the worst from him."

He very nearly gaped at her, flummoxed to discover one Gryffindor – apart from Minerva – who did not idolize the Headmaster. To cover his confusion, he went into the lecture mode, "The only sources you can find in the Hogwarts Library are the legal texts about the Elves Law, as they're supposed to be discussed in History of Magic."

"Professor Binns never said a word about it!" she interrupted, quite indignant.

"He's never been interested in the subject," he said, deadpan. "Had they allied themselves with the Goblins, I suppose you would have heard about it."

She could not stop a small chuckle and he smiled more openly. This time, she noticed but had no time to make herself ridiculous by staring wide-eyed as he went on, "Binns' deficiency was not an issue, since you were supposed to study house elves properly in Care of Magical Creatures, some time in your fourth year."

This made her forget Snape's smile and everything else. "We did not!" she cried.

"I know. I had… other preoccupations at the time," he said, dismissing summarily all the events of the mad months of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the return of Voldemort, "and I did not notice that Dumbledore had asked Hagrid to skip that part of the programme."

"And of course," she completed bitterly, "as Hagrid trusted the Headmaster absolutely, he did as he was told."

"Yes. And as he doesn't… didn't..." He faltered briefly, remembering that it would be a very long time before Hagrid returned to Hogwarts... if he were ever to return. He always had a very complicated relationship with Hagrid, but of all the horrors Minerva had shown him about the battle of Hogwarts, the vision of the half-giant falling on his knees before collapsing headlong in the middle of a corridor was one of the worst. He had hardly gasped but Severus would never forget Pomona's shrieks of despair.

Hermione gave Snape a pained look, as she remembered, too, how Walden Macnair, who had been left for dead after being hurled against a wall, had managed to sneak behind and send his axe in Hagrid's back in retaliation before being dragged straight to Azkaban by the Aurors, still shouting insults and imprecations.

Severus frowned, forcing himself to speak with an air of indifference. "Well, I'd say Hagrid always had a very "hands on" approach to teaching, which explains the lack of textbooks and references."

It was the understatement of the year. Hagrid was no scholar and he would have had a hard time using a textbook, Hermione admitted. When he gave them a written test, it was always a multiple choice question paper, except for the final exams and everybody knew that it was Professor Sprout who actually did the marking for him.

"As you well know," he went on, "the Elves Law goes back to Helga Hufflepuff. However brilliant a witch she was, Hufflepuff was terribly down to earth and of her time. She just found it easier to use the standard laws of serfdom that everyone around her knew and accepted, and she used them to establish the magical bond between the Hogwarts house elves and herself. It soon became standard to use servitude law for everyone to deal with their elves – not that the elves objected, mind you."

"That was a thousand years ago."

"Hogwarts was founded a thousand years ago and it still exists. Most of our laws are at least centuries old because they still apply to the situation. Why would it be different for the house elves?"

"The way they led to decades of civil war, I'm not sure most laws still 'apply to the situation',"she said. Snape merely raised his eyebrows. "And it's morally indefensible to keep sentient beings in servitude."

"From the Muggle point of view, it is slavery." He gave her a piercing look as he added, "But from the magical and even physical points of view, a lone elf is a weak creature, very much like a small child who can't control their magic. They're doomed on their own because they need a witch's or a wizard's magic to direct theirs, just like young wizards and witches need a wand to learn to focus theirs."

"But Dobby..."

"Dobby was mad and even he had to go to Aberforth Dumbledore in the end."

"He was mad from abuse."

"From abuse, yes, but abuse that came long after he'd grown into his full power — and it was not by Lucius before you begin to slander him."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't understand."

"It's obvious," he said sarcastically. However, before she finished gritting her teeth, he was amending, "...But you have every excuse. None of your friends had the least inkling about what happened either, and Dumbledore, as usual, chose not to tell anyone," he added with a long-suffering sigh.

"It was only after Dobby helped you escape from Malfoy Manor that I began to piece things together." His face shut down in anger, and it was with pursed lips that he gritted, "Lucius confessed the whole diary mess, that he'd hidden from me out of a misplaced pride."

Hermione was surprised but Snape stood up and walked to the window. She did not see his face, but his hands were tightly clenched as he spoke.

"It was only then that I could confront Dumbledore's portrait with my suspicions and force him to tell me the truth about the Horcruxes."

She gasped,"You didn't know?"

At last, he turned to face her. "I never knew. Once I realised what role the diary played in Dobby's madness and that Ginny Weasley had brought the thing to Hogwarts, it was not that difficult to make the connection with the Chamber of Secrets. I deduced that it had to be a Horcrux… in the same way Dumbledore did." There was no mistaking his hurt and anger. "Until then, I walked even blinder than you were. I was supposed to find Potter and persuade him to sacrifice himself at the 'right time', and I did not understand why."

They both sighed in frustration.

"The months and lives that could have been spared if you had known how to help us!" she fumed.

"Yes."

They shared looks, both consigning Albus Dumbledore to the fires of hell – and not for the first time, either.

§§§

"For the last time, Hermione, what's up with you? You haven't even scolded me once since you've come home," sulked Ron.

Hermione was certainly not in the mood to put up with Ron's demands for attention. She snapped, "Am I such a shrew? Or do you miss your mummy?"

Ron's hurt look did not endear him to her at the moment, even if she knew that tiredness made her overreact.

"He's right," interjected Harry. "You haven't said a word beyond 'pass the butterbeer'. Something wrong at work?"

She hesitated.

"Snape," said Ron, a little resentful. "I'm sure it's about Snape. Everything revolves around him these days."

"Oh please! You won't become jealous of Professor Snape now. We've been there already with Draco," she said with some contempt. "You're being ridiculous."

"Jealous? Me? I just wish that work stay at work, Malfoy in his manor and Snape in St Mungo's."

"Snape in…" Incensed, she shouted, "That's awful, even for you."

He shouted back, livid, "Tell me I'm wrong. I'm sure it's about Snape!"

She pursed her lips. "It's not what you think."

They stared at each other, neither willing to give in. Ron said through clenched teeth, "I certainly don't think anything except that it's about Snape. You're just as obsessed with him as Harry is these days, and that's saying something."

"Hey, mate! I'm right here," protested Harry.

"Right here, yes, and still worrying about what you're going to say or do or make with or for the man. Yes. That's being obsessed."

Now it was Harry's turn to sulk. "You don't understand."

"And I don't wish to. I've had a hard day, looking for evidence to save Snape's hide and I'll do it again tomorrow and the day after, but now I wish to enjoy a little of my well-deserved time off and not think or speak about him. He's not my best mate but I just feel that my best mates have forgotten me because of him... and as for me, I need a break at the end of the day." Before either Harry or Hermione could answer, he was already storming out with a sarcastic "Good night".

Harry and Hermione watched him stomp out of the room. They looked at each other and shrugged helplessly, knowing that Ron had to cool down on his own before they could say anything.

Clearing his throat, Harry asked, "What happened with Snape?"

"Nothing happened," she sighed. "I'm an idiot, and I've been for a long time."

Instantly incensed, he cried, "I swear I'll make him apologize."

"No!" She held a beseeching hand to him, while fighting for words. "It's not something Professor Snape did. It's something I discovered… That he explained."

With more force and frustration, she repeated, "I was an idiot. Everybody's been laughing at me… And they were right!"

She said it with such feeling that Harry could not consider it funny. So they sat side by side on the sofa, looking ahead rather than at each other, as they often did when they discussed serious matters. It was something she initiated after Ron had left them during the search for the Horcruxes. She said it would help them discuss things more constructively while they looked in the same direction, and they found it was true.

"I was wrong all along about the house elves," she said, without preamble.

Harry certainly did not expect that. "I guessed so, but I don't know much about elves either. I did not see the point of discussing this as you would not listen, anyway."

"No, you don't know, either, and it was intentional."

Intentional? With a sinking feeling, Harry realised this could only mean… "Dumbledore?"

"Who else?" she gritted.

Facing her now, he caught her wrist. "Tell me all you can."

"Yes, but you must know Professor Snape's promised he' d explain everything to you and Ron."

"Good," said Harry with relief. If Snape was willing to cooperate, it was a step in the right direction. "But I still want you to tell me now."

She took a deep breath. "The relationship between an elf and their master is symbiotic."

"Symbiotic?" parroted Harry, not seeing what she was getting at.

"They both live better together than on their own."

"I know what symbiotic means," Harry chuckled, "even if it's a three syllables word. You don't need to explain that."

She snorted, "Idiot!" and swatted him lightly on the arm. "In fact, the house elf needs their witch or wizard much more than we need the elf's help. Young elves will get consumed by their own power if they can't anchor themselves to our kind of magic. Think of electricity and the need to earth it for security or you can get a short-circuit. That's how Professor Snape explained it to me. Our magic is the earth for the elves. They have a lot of raw magical power, much more than we have but it can only be harnessed via a human witch or wizard. Without a proper anchor, an elf will have all sorts of mental disorders and they will die. Remember Winky, Barty Crouch's elf?"

Harry nodded. The poor elf was deeply depressed and had turned into a pathetic alcoholic.

"You may have noticed that other elves are rather aggressive with abandoned or freed elves. They fear them because they're very much like a time bomb. Elves' spontaneous discharges of magic can be very destructive."

Harry frowned."Dobby didn't need anyone. He was so proud to be free," he said, filled with sorrow and guilt once again, as he always did when he thought about Dobby.

"He was relieved to be freed from danger but he was rather obsessed with you, wasn't he?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Unfortunately."

"He hoped that one day you'd agree to be his next Master and waited for that time. I think we all knew it."

Harry sighed, "I couldn't have accepted him." He paused, "Though come to think of it… If he'd lived after we escaped Malfoy Manor I might have… But he wasn't dangerous!"

Right after saying it, Harry remembered the twisted, dangerous, even unscrupulous ways the elf had used to stop him from going back to Hogwarts. He gaped at Hermione, unable to speak.

"Just so," sighed Hermione. "From what I understand, Dobby was fully matured when he was lured into Riddle's diary."

"Oh no!"

"Yes. Snape will explain better but, in a nutshell, Riddle manipulated Dobby in an attempt to be taken to Hogwarts."

"But it was Ginny who did it, not Dobby." Harry frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy who put the diary in her shopping basket but Dobby?"

"No. It was really Malfoy but… Oh, I have to explain, after all. Lucius Malfoy knew the diary was dangerous for wizards so he made Dobby write in it in his place. After a time, the poor Dobby didn't know any more what was real and what was the diary's enchantments. Riddle tried to turn him against his master in an attempt to possess him but Dobby's bond to Malfoy made him hate Riddle just as much when he forced him to spy on his master. Dobby ended up fearing and mistrusting both of them, and punishing himself all the time because of it."

"Poor Dobby. No wonder I was his only hope."

"Yes, it's easy to understand how he'd come to think the Saviour of the Wizarding World would be his personal saviour."

"Please, you make me sound like a messiah."

She sniggered softly, "Aren't you?"

He gave her a mock scowl and a two-fingered salute which considerably reduced the tension and they both laughed.

"To resume," she said more happily, "Dobby heard Snape complain to Lucius about you, and your always running into danger at school. It was apparently enough for Dobby's deranged mind to decide that you mustn't go to Hogwarts since Riddle wanted to go there. I think he'd already decided you would be his next master since you had already destroyed a wizard as powerful as Voldemort."

The simple truth of it was so blinding that Harry could not find anything to say. He probably missed some of Hermione's explanation until he heard her conclude, "After Dumbledore's death, you didn't call for him and he was forced to seek the help of Dumbledore's brother to anchor himself. He couldn't stay at Hogwarts with Headmaster Snape since he feared him too much because of his association with Malfoy."

"Yes," interrupted Harry, "but where does Dumbeldore fit in?"

"With the lost elves who arrive at Hogwarts. They have to go to the Headmaster. He can't handle all of them, of course. He uses the magic of the Castle. Hogwarts is practically sentient and serves as a kind of shunt for the elves' magic. Professor Snape thinks the situation with Dobby and Ginny helped Dumbledore realise that the diary was a Horcrux but he didn't want anyone else to suspect."

Harry digested this in silence but Hermione was incensed. "Dumbledore let me make a fool of myself with S.P.E.W. because I provided the diversion and the… the comic relief," she spat with loathing, "to distract Snape and Draco of the situation with Dobby. Dumbledore prevented Professor McGonagall from explaining the truth to me because he needed Snape and Draco to think about elves in general and not about Dobby in particular. He even had Hagrid skip the lessons about the house elves."

"I've often wondered… Snape didn't know about the Horcruxes?"

"No. Dumbledore never told him. He discovered the truth by himself just before the battle of Hogwarts."

"What a mess!"

"Oh yes. When I think how Snape could have helped us, instead of all our running around like headless chicken! It's only through sheer luck that we won!"

"But why didn't he tell Snape?" moaned Harry. "Dumbledore knew very well I'm crap at Occlumency. He told me about the Horcruxes while Voldemort could have seen all this in my mind and he didn't tell Snape, with all his talent?! It's simply incredible."

"I don't understand, either, but the fact remains that Dumbledore never told him about the diary. He believed all that time that Voldemort had possessed Ginny like he'd possessed Quirell."

§§§

"Yes, it's yours."

Snape stared at his wand in Harry's hand, wondering what kind of trap this might be.

"I just ask for an oath from you that you won't do anything to escape before the trial."

The young Auror remained true to form, slightly nervous but with the hopeful smile he wore most of the time since he had first stepped into Severus's hospital room.

He put Snape's wand on the side table with care and casually took his out of his holster, presenting the tip to his former teacher.

Severus had never expected to see his wand again and could not help glancing sideways, still unable to believe it would be this simple. He wanted nothing more than to feel it in his hand once again... Feel the power of his magic concentrating and being channelled perfectly through it.

He desperately longed to touch it but restrained himself. What about the wording of the oath? His spy and Slytherin instincts stopped him from acting on his first impulse.

Was Potter suggesting that if he could not escape before the trial, he was expected to do it during or at the end of it?

Was it an implicit permission or something more sinister?

Harry Potter appeared to be as eager as he used to be, and well disposed towards him – but he'd always been so easy to manipulate. Others at the Ministry may have another agenda.

Kingsley Shacklebolt he trusted almost implicitly but no Minister ever was an absolute master. Was there some plot in the Aurory to get rid of him for certain by way of a planned 'regrettable incident'? Head Auror (what a joke!) Dawlish had always been one of Moody's and Scrimgeour's men and they always loathed each other.

He clenched his fist reflexively. No matter what, the yew wood with the unicorn tail hair core was beckoning him, even more powerfully than when Ollivander first put it in his hand.

In a flash, he made his decision. It would not be the first time that he staked his life on intuition. Even if it turned out to be a rather crude trap, it suited his own ends, and he would do nearly anything to hold and feel once again this true extension of his magical self.

He touched the tip of Harry's wand. "My word as a wizard."

Harry handed Snape his wand, with a delighted grin that the older man was unable to return because his heart was beating too madly and he was trying hard to prevent his hand from shaking.

All of a sudden, Snape's Patronus doe was jumping around, a true figure of joy and exuberance – but Harry's gaze could not help returning to Snape's face rather than watching the doe, as he tried to glimpse once more the delight, triumph and pain that washed over his face the moment he was reunited with his wand.

He had never been meant to see Snape like that and he would never, ever mention it – not if he wanted to stay alive.

He just swore to himself that he would do anything for Snape to keep his wand.

TBC