A/N: I had some really thoughtful comments on the last chapter so would like to thank people for that!

Chapter Thirty-Six

Severus lent his back against the cool, whitewashed brick of the old coal shed. An eery stillness had descended over the house, inciting in him a strange claustrophobia which made him realise he did not like being alone in the place for too long. Spinner's End was haunted; infiltrated by spectres of the past, uncanny returns of repressed memories. Having Hermione and the children there made it bearable, but without them the hallways echoed. The creak of the floorboard on the fourth step from the top; the groan of the plumbing when the hot tap was used; the way the wind whistled through the disused attic; there was even something about this coal shed, a vague recollection of being locked inside, but it was difficult to determine whether that had really happened, or whether his mind had conjured it as part of some cruel trick. It all reminded him, intermittently, and sometimes with long periods of respite, of a childhood he had long sought to forget. Hermione had not been wrong when she suggested that things would get easier in time, that new memories could be made to replace the old, but not enough time had yet elapsed. And then his mother had returned, bringing everything he had worked to confine to the past, shrieking back to the present with a vengeance.

He had come outside seeking fresh air, inhaling slowly and deeply to try and calm his frazzled nerves. In the end it had seemed too easy, his mother turning up with those books. Anything that wasn't a struggle made Severus suspicious. She had looked much as he remembered her; stern featured but always with a subtle softness, perhaps reserved only for him, in her eyes. She seemed skittish, casting nervous glances around the hallway as they'd ushered her inside. Severus assumed the place had the same effect on her as it had on him.

'I hadn't realised everyone would be here,' she'd said, her gaze settling on Harry for a prolonged moment as she entered the living room. 'I don't know… this might be a silly idea.'

Severus had remained scowling in the hallway, so it was Hermione who replied. 'We're grateful of any help we can get.'

There were about two dozen art history books in Eileen's hessian bag, which were distributed between the group, before in unison, they returned to their task. Severus read the preface to a batted edition of Renaissance Riddles before finding himself distracted. He cast his gaze over his overcrowded living room, watching peoples' heads shifting silently from side-to-side as they scanned the pages before them. They weren't doing this for him, he recognised, but for Hermione. He stood to benefit, of course, and so he was appreciative, but this was friends doing a good turn for another friend. He wondered what it must be like to have friends like that. Lily might have done this for him once, but Lucius, would he have ever? It was unlikely, he thought, and it was just as he was pondering this that his mother caught his eye. Neville had vacated a seat on the settee for her and she looked uncomfortable, sandwiched between Luna and Hermione's father. She issued Severus a fleeting smile but he couldn't bring himself to return it. There was an uncanny quality about seeing her here, in this house, again, and he didn't like it. He looked away quickly, returning his attention back to Renaissance Riddles, staring at chapter one unseeingly.

He was unsure how much time had passed when someone moving in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It wasn't a sudden movement or even particularly animated, but it was different to the monotonous head bobbing of everyone reading.

'I think… yes, I think I've found something… listen to this…' It was Ginny, sitting up and bringing the book she was reading closer to her face. Her voice shook a little as she continued, everyone now looking in her direction. '"Edgar De'ath's ability to capture the emotion of his subjects was renowned throughout Europe. Indeed, during the Baroque period he pioneered many of the techniques for transposing peoples' thoughts and feelings onto their oil-painted counterparts that we still use today. Perhaps most significantly, his depiction of Quentin Quinton hung at Windsor Castle, which served as advisor to King George III; that of Professor Stanley Ridley which taught medical magic to prospective healers at St. Mungo's for over a century until his methods became outdated; and his portrait of a young maid he met whilst travelling in Yorkshire, which once sat on the jury at a local murder trial."'

Ginny stopped reading at that and looked at Severus, who stared back dumbstruck. 'Read that again,' he croaked.

She nodded, cast a fleeting look at Hermione, who had moved to the edge of her seat, and then obliged. '…There's even a picture,' she concluded, holding the book out to Severus. He took it from her with visibly shaking hands, staring down at the black and white copy of De'ath's The Maid, which showed a plump, tidily-dressed young woman smiling nervously.

Severus read the caption below. 'She died halfway through the trial,' he murmured, 'so rather than delaying the sentencing they used her portrait. It was in 1777… up in Skipton…' he trailed off, worried his voice would shake like his hands if he continued. He looked to Hermione, hoping she would know what he was thinking without him having to articulate it verbally.

'So, we just need the case law book that relates to this case,' she said, her voice small.

Severus merely nodded.

'It won't matter that this wasn't in front of this Winzengamot thing you keep talking about?' Hermione's mother asked.

'I shouldn't think so,' Hermione replied, 'the local courts abide by the same principles, they're like satellite Wizengamots. They still exist today in places remote from London, but with developments to the floo network and brooms they've grown less common. I don't know too much about it, just what I've read in these books… sorry, Merlin… I'm rambling.' She stood up and then quickly sat back down again, wringing her hands in her lap.

'We'll go back to the library,' Harry said suddenly, standing from where he was sat on the floor. 'If we leave now we might make it just before they close. Now we know the year, we can focus our search.'

Hermione had nodded mutely, squeezing Severus' shoulder reassuringly as she moved passed him towards the floo. 'We'll be back as soon as we can,' she said, smiling warmly, 'this could be it!' He'd nodded, still not trusting his voice to be steady, as they'd stepped into the green flames and disappeared. Mr and Mrs Granger had then offered to take the twins, and though he was still reluctant to have them out of his sight, Severus didn't feel he would be much used to them in his current state. Ginny had then suggested that the others ought to go too, and they'd bid Severus polite goodbyes before leaving him alone with Eileen.

She didn't move from her position on the opposite settee, looking at Severus with an expression he couldn't read. When nobody had spoken for so long it became almost painful, Severus not really knowing what to say, Eileen said: 'there was something your partner-'

'-Hermione. Her name is Hermione!'

'Yes, of course. I mean no disrespect… there was something Hermione said when she visited me,' Eileen continued, a little hesitant sounding now, 'she suggested that it might not be you that I was angry with, but rather myself, and having given it some thought I am inclined to believe she was right.'

'She's always right,' Severus said, not sure what else he should say.

Eileen smiled at that. 'She makes you happy?'

'Very.'

'Then I'm glad you found this.'

Severus nodded curtly in acknowledgement. He wanted to say a thousand things all at once and yet, simultaneously, say nothing at all. 'And you?' he asked tentatively.

'What?'

'Are you happy?'

'I am… at peace,' she replied, looking suddenly sad. She stood and wandered to the mantlepiece, picking up a photograph of Severus, Hermione and the twins that stood there. 'I was rather uncharitable about you when Hermione visited. Unfairly so. I played my own part in what happened.'

'Nothing my father did was your fault. Nor mine, for that matter.'

Eileen heaved a dry chuckle. 'I should have taken you and left as soon as you were born. Before even.'

'You had no money and nowhere to go,' Severus said, feeling a weight settle on his chest and his head began to ache. 'I am sorry that I ever blamed you.'

'And I am sorry that I put you through all that…' she paused, watching him carefully. 'I… I would like for us to try and rebuild what we had.' She smiled weakly and knelt by the bay window, withdrawing her wand and pointing it at the floorboards. 'Alohamora,' she muttered, reaching down and prising back a now loose plank of wood. She reached beneath and, after a moment of struggling to reach something, pulled out a dusty box which Severus instantly recalled from his childhood. 'Our little secret,' his mother said with a smirk, 'do you remember how we used to play Gobstones while you father was out?'

'Yes,' Severus said. 'I'd forgotten that was hidden there though.'

'Perhaps one day we'll play again?' she asked, avoiding his gaze and busying herself with replacing the floorboard. Severus suspected there was more to this enquiry than merely a desire to play Gobstones with him. She was suggesting that she wanted to be a part of his life again and he didn't quite understand his feelings on the matter.

'I'm tired,' he said, after another silence that went on too long.

'Oh,' Eileen replied, looking a little crestfallen, 'of course… it's been quite a day-'

'-I'm not saying no,' Severus said quickly, 'I'm just saying… I have a lot happening at the moment, but… once the trial is over I'll have more energy to expend on this and… and you deserve that.'

'Thank you,' she said, barely audibly and a little disbelievingly. Severus wandered whether she was about to cry, but sincerely hoped she was not. 'I'm going to go then. May I?' she asked, pointing to the floo powder which they kept in a little porcelain container on the mantlepiece.

Severus shrugged and Eileen had one foot in the floo when she turned back to face him. 'Severus?'

'Mm?'

'I wish you all the best for the trial. If they can't see you're innocent they're complete dunderheads!'

Severus tried to smile. 'Thank you,' he said, 'and for bringing the books too.'

'You are of course, welcome. Now good bye.' And with that she disappeared in a flash of green light.

This was when Severus had found himself alone, and he realised it was the first time he had been completely alone in a long time. He slumped onto the settee, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before moving his hand up to rub through his hair. Checking his watch revealed that Hermione had only left half an hour ago, and there was no telling how long she would be, so he decided it would do no harm to rest his eyes. He felt as though he could have slept for hours but he was having no such luck this afternoon. He opened his eyes again almost against his own will, realising, once they had readjusted to the bright sunshine, that the Gobstones box had been left on the coffee table. It made his heart hurt. His mother had taught him to play with that board, taught him that trick of flicking his wrist when he released the gobstone. This had been his favourite thing to do as a child, even into his teen years, and the fact that his father knew nothing of it made it all the more special. However, with this, came a certain sense of melancholy; it was also a reminder that he had been robbed of a great many more memories like this, and, as much as he tried to prevent it, a burning resentment rose within him at this notion. Indeed, Spinner's End was riddled with these reminders of his childhood, the walls and floors quite literally holding onto secrets of the past, and Severus felt his breath hitch in his throat as he thought of this. He got to his feet and picked up the box then slid it onto a high bookshelf where it wouldn't catch his eye and made his way out to the garden for some fresh air…

This was where Hermione located him, hidden behind the coal shed, an hour or so later. 'Severus?' a quizzical voice sounded from behind him. He stood up straight and peered around the side of the shed. Hermione stood in the back doorway, a faded green leather book clutched in her hands. Their eyes met across the small yard. 'We found it,' she said.