Chapter 49
The first thing she felt was warmth. Warmth on her back that was steady, sure, and warmth around her that sparked and danced along her skin. She sighed, relaxing into the restful waves and pulled under once again.
The second time she woke up, the warmth was still there but so was a tickling on the soles of her feet. She tried to push it away, but whenever she relaxed her feet went right back to the tickling.
"Hermione …" There was a rich voice very close to her, dancing in and out of perception. "… Potter … up, love … please."
Her movements were sluggish, but she pushed her heavy eyelids apart for a moment. Looking around she saw the dark outside of the castle, dewey grass beneath her feet, and Severus' steadying arms wrapped around her as he held her upright on the earth. The near-white magic was climbling steadily up from her ankles, covering her in a swirling pattern of sparks on warmth that helped her keep her eyes barely open.
"So tired …" Hermione yawned, sagging against him. "Wanna sleep…"
"No, don't sleep now," Severus sounded slightly urgent in her ear, making her eyes pop open just a little wider. "I need to make sure you're well. Just a few tests, alright?"
"Can't …" Hermione mumbled, eyes closing.
Snape shook her, forcing her eyes open so she could see his urgent expression. "You must gather yourself! Potter being tended to by Poppy but we need to know what happened to his scar."
Hermione turned barely, trying to look at him, but he had to help her turn because she was just too weak. She struggled to keep her head aloft. "It was … painful. He was bleeding."
"Yes, he was."
"Is he alright?" Hermione murmured, waking up a little more. "Harry?"
"We won't know until he wakes," he informed her, his voice tense. "This is why I need to know what happened."
She tried to focus and her mind felt like mud, but she held onto the thought of Harry, bleeding from his scar and it brought back the memory clearly enough for her to articulate what had happened.
"My magic hates horcruxes," she explained slowly. "My house magic is mine. It wouldn't accept Harry … not until … it was gone."
Speaking was an effort and a half, and she felt herself sagging into Severus again, eyes drooping. "It's gone."
The tension – the taut muscles and straining eyes that came with her worries – seeped away and she felt the darkness lure her back under. Within a moment she was once again asleep.
Severus was relieved, if nothing else, to get Hermione's verification of the events that took place. More than relieved, he admitted, to hear her say the horcrux they'd both been worried about now had no more connection to Harry's mind. Time would tell if it were true, but for now he was glad the girl in his arms had decided to expand her family to include the troublesome boy; the ritual may well have saved his life.
Nonetheless his ordeal was not over. He had two malignant narcissists to confront now, one dark and one disturbingly pink, and Hermione was incapable of confronting the second on Potter's behalf at the moment.
With great care he hefted his promised fiancée back through the dungeon entrance and to the Hospital Wing where Potter was resting still as a corpse under Ron Weasley's pallid watch and Poppy's experienced hand.
"Take care of her," he instructed the Matron. "I was able to wake her, briefly, to explain what she felt during the ritual. It seems to be that the light magic used – as Dumbledore would call it, love magic –" he rolled his eyes derisively, "—was incompatible with the remnants of the Killing Curse within Potter's scar. Provided the it did no harm on its exodus the boy should be well."
Madame Pomphrey nodded professionally, but he could see the relief in her eyes. "Where are you going to be? If I need you?"
"Potter had detention with our esteemed High Inquisitor this evening." Severus noted with disturbing satisfaction that the over-protective witch turned from a Healer to an Avenger in a matter of seconds. "Someone must inform her that he will be unable to attend. And then I need to run to get some more ingredients for the restorative draughts we'll need. I'll be a few hours at most, but I will return here the moment I return to the school."
But first … Oh, he was going to enjoy this. A malevolent smirk graced his face during his brief walk down to the Great Hall as he thought of how he could bestow the news of Potter's new untouchable status to the woman. Doing it mid-meal would be a wonderful addition to the news, but it required a more humiliating touch.
This time he would forgo the usual under-the-table approach and instead go for dramatics. Those were the most humiliating for the woman if her reactions to Potter were any indication.
Instead of the teacher's entrance, then, he steered to the main doors and entered right down the middle with robes billowing behind him. Teachers were rarely late for meals and so all the students quieted down to watch him head straight to the Headmaster.
"Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore twinkled at him. "We were beginning to wonder where you were."
Severus inclined his head politely, noticing with relish that the pink puff had her toady eyes fixed on their conversation. "I thought I would inform you, Headmaster, that Mister Potter had landed himself and my Apprentice in the Hospital Wing before I started on their restoring brews."
"Not again," Minerva placed her hand over her face. "What happened to them this time?"
Severus swept over to Professor Umbridge. "Perhaps this would be more appropriate to address in private?"
Just as he suspected, the new most-hated-Professor would not wait. She puffed herself up in her chair before tittering out her protest, "I think not! I must know if the boy needs another punishment; getting himself into trouble to avoid a detention with me, how arrogant of the boy."
"Unfortunately, that detention will no longer be possible." Severus resisted the urge to smile and instead looked at her with an emotionless façade even as she sputtered at his words. "I doubt you will be allowed to punish the boy for the rest of your tenure here, Madame."
"WHAT?!" Even her normally forced composure broke at that. "I am HIGH INQUISITOR! I have SUPREME authority over punishments!"
"Those given by the professors," Severus added as an addendum, earning a disbelieving look from the woman. The entire student body had silenced and was looking on the scene of Umbridge's creation and his intent. "Not those dictated by the family of the student. It seems my Apprentice heavily disagreed with the use of certain … ill-reputed magical artifacts to inflict corporal punishment upon Mister Potter.
"As of tonight—" he turned his robes with a swish to fully face the swiftly darkening face of the horrid woman, "—Mister Potter and Apprentice Granger are fully-bonded siblings of blood and magic. Meaning – as she is of age and now his closest living relative – she is the new legal guardian of Mister Potter and the final determination in his punishments. I'm afraid she's already given her edict on your punishments, Madame High Inquisitor, and you have no power to overrule her."
Umbridge's face was now a mottled purple, her rage plain for everyone to see. Her normally saccharine disposition was gone and her true personality was revealed to not only her enemies, but the children of her allies.
"What an oversight," the woman had calmed her tone, but there was still the tell-tale tremble of her rage within it. "I'm sure we will be correcting that particular problem soon."
"Oh, I didn't think that was under your purview, Dolores," Professor McGonagall interjected, showing her cat claws as she sank them into Dolores' already shattering delusions of grandeur. "I believe the extent of your decrees are to change rules set by the teachers and the Headmaster, not parts of the School Charter. Only the board can, as I recall."
"The Board will help me change it!" Umbridge snapped before she collected herself.
"I would not count on that, Dolores," Severus said with what he thought was a suitably commiserating tone. "Believe me, the Board will not approve a change that would take away their authority to discipline when their own children attend the school.
"I myself have tried before, but …" He waved his hand dismissively. "After all, family ties are so important, aren't they? I'm sure the Chairman, Lord Malfoy, will be especially vehement."
He had indeed petitioned the Board, but only to get more creative in the punishments and even include spanking for younger years. Briefly he wondered what Hermione's thoughts on that particular punishment were, but dismissed that quickly. What right did he have thinking of future children with her if he wasn't even certain he'd survive in the Dark Lord's service?
The thought was gone in the flash and was replaced with a vindictive happiness. He could hardly contain his glee at Umbridge's various expressions – too many of which looked like she'd smelt something horribly repugnant – and stopped her before she could continue.
"Of course, feel free to write him tonight," he finished. "Perhaps he will understand your plight. However, I must return to taking care of my foolish Apprentice and her new brother."
Severus swished his robes behind him and didn't stop his malevolent smirk from being seen by the now murmuring students. Let them see that Professor Snape, bat of the dungeons, tormentor of children detested the woman as much as any of them did.
"Would you like the elves to bring a calming cup of chamomile tea, Dolores?" He heard Professor Sprout say behind him. "You look rather riled up."
The grin he sported grew. It seemed it had worked just as well as he'd hoped.
Now he needed to move onto the less entertaining part of his evening. His proported Master.
Within twenty minutes he was free of the wards surrounding the school and off to Malfoy Manor, popping in directly to the entryway to the shock of the Death Eater guard on duty. Hmm, so the female Carrow had entryway duty tonight. That information was tucked away as the woman came forward and he glared at her.
"I need to speak with the Dark Lord. Now, Miss Carrow. And if you cannot hold your wand properly I suggest you don't point it in my direction."
Alecto glared as if she could actually Avada him through her eyes but nonetheless escorted him to the Dark Lord's study – formerly Lucius' smoking parlor, one he'd frequented for an after-supper brandy – to interrupt what appeared to be a refresher course on curses he was hosting for his followers, if flaming, decapitated, and blown up dummies were any indication.
"My Lord," Severus bowed low to the man. "I bring news of Potter. There has been a change in his situation."
"Well?" His master swept back from his followers and sat in his high-back chair, a bit dramatically. His red eyes narrowed. "It must be important for you to make the journey to me during the week."
"You needed to hear it from me first," Severus informed him. It would be better to set expectations low for the news in the event it was viewed insignificant in his master's eyes. "My Apprentice is involved."
He watched his master's fingers drum against the armrest and dared to press forward.
"The woman Fudge has placed at Hogwarts has been using blood quills upon some of the less … favoured students," Snape explained, though undoubtedly the man had heard something of the toad. "Mr. Potter has been her focus and she is intent on discrediting and breaking the boy as I told you. She has avoided using this method since her public exposure, but no longer. She was given authority over punishments at Hogwarts once again."
"Severus," Voldemort warned. "To the point."
"Yes, my Lord," Severus intoned. "In an attempt to save the boy from being tortured, my Apprentice decided he needed a family to protect him. She is now Potter's sister in blood and magic; his guardian by familial right."
The red eyes before him tightened tellingly. Severus quickly lowered himself to his knees and looked no higher than the Dark Lord's knees.
"And you did not prevent this?" Voldemort hissed, the skeletal hand gripping fiercely at his wand as a warning of what was to come. "You allowed her?"
"I could not stop her," Severus told him. "My Apprentice is single-minded in her goals and knows my tenuous position as spy in the Order, deperate enough to save the boy that she threatened my position with the old man. She said that should I not help her in the process, she would have another of the Order do it and tell the Headmaster of my refusal. I had no time to plan or prevent; it was quickly decided and done just this evening. Should she have gone to Dumbledore or McGonagall, they would accuse me of allowing the torture of their Golden Boy."
"Traitor!" a hysterical Bellatrix cried out, voice shaking with madness. "You denied out Lord and now you dare to fail him?! You should have gone to Azkaban with the rest of us!"
"Bella!" Voldemort roared at her.
Bellatrix simpered under his loathing gaze and Severus observed the tenuous patience in his Lord's face. Apparently his recently emanicated followers were not only in need of recovery, but a reintroduction to civilized society if they were grating so obviously on the Dark Lord's patience.
Voldemort twirled his wand in his hand, showing everyone that he was armed. They knew exactly how quickly he could curse them then and the followers present all turned back to their exercises.
"So much time here and she still dares to disappoint me," he finally sighed. Eyes snapped up to Severus', a hard glint there. "My reluctance in pushing the girl has made her too relaxed. I will need to see her sooner than I expected. And for longer. I believe it will take the whole weekend, don't you?"
Bellatrix laughed maniacally at Hermione's impending visit, clearly a sadistic fantasy playing in her head as she cursed a whol straight through where her dummy's heart was.
"Yes, we need another chat." The Dark Lord swept around Severus as if he weren't even present to open the parlor's door, letting his robes roll over him degradingly. "Fetch me Lucius!"
Soon the blonde strode hurriedly into the room, still the picture of composure to all. "My Lord?"
"Contact Greyback," came the order. Severus' breath stopped. "Tell him to bring Lupin to me personally Friday evening. I require both of their presences for a very special dinner."
"Right away, my Lord."
Severus bowed low and forced himself to tap into his darker side, keeping his voice neutral. "My Lord, again I must ask whether to prepare for her death."
Severus shuddered as he felt Voldemort placed a hand on his head like a Master with his dog. A subtle reminder of his place that should have been also a sign of affection but only came across as threatening. A vulnerability in front of the most dangerous man he'd ever encountered.
"Why kill her when she had such value still?" His hand moved to force his chin up so red eyes met black. His Master's hands were cold as ice, his malicious smile burning with with promise of a fiery demise. "I shall merely have to remind her of my power. While I played the long game with her, she was playing with me. Perhaps I have been too kind to the girl, too indulgent. And perhaps the same could be said of you, Severus. Crucio."
Hermione woke up briefly in the dark of the evening to a panic flaring in her bond with Severus. The rare sensation that told of him being tortured killed her, but it was thankfully brief and the bond returned to normal not twenty minutes later. But unlike before when they were waiting for Mr. Weasley, the sensation was weak because she was. Her body was heavy and her muscles seemed to have no energy, nothing that could be used to move. The brief magical flare within her was the only thing keeping her awake. Once it died down, her eyes shut again in her exhaustion and sleep overcame her.
The next time she woke, she panicked. Shed' dreamt of Harry, of his head being rtuly split open and no one being able to heal him but her. And she was sleeping, sleeping as her best friend and now brother died. It was worse to wake up and be unable to move. She screamed in frustration as her attempts to move only made her body twitch.
The matron, in her signature cranberry and white, came out of her office then to check on her.
"Harry, where's Harry?" Hermione's voice was as soft as he body felt, but to her it felt like she was screaming. "Is he okay?"
"Just fine, dear," Madame Pomphrey said as she prodded Hermione with a wand. "I'll draw his curtain back so you can see him from now on, hmm? You are both simply severely depleted. And from the looks of it, you were already somewhat depleted when this happened."
Hemione shrunk slightly at the disapproving frown on the matron's face. "WE weren't expecting—"
"No, young people never expect anything to go wrong," Madame Pomphrey sniffed. "No matter. But you are not going to use any magic, and magical artifacts, or even potions unless I've okayed them, clear? Now, the only potion I can approve at this point is an invigoration draught, but it does not replace rest. It is simply to help boost the amount of energy reserves you have."
After drinking her potions, being prodded by Madame Pomphrey, and pestering the woman until Harry's curtain had been drawn briefly so she could see for herself that his head had closed up, Hermione finally relaxed a little.
The draught had given her a bit of energy, so she decided to make herself useful. It was quickly determined that she needed to research their situation, and the only book Madame Pomphrey had that would be useful to her was the School Charter. She poured over it. The only information she had on the ramifications of the adoption was from Severus, and she needed the certainty of having read it herself and memorizing the processes and rules herself. She made it through the familial rights with all the focus she could muster before she finally relaxed enough to sleep again.
The third time she woke there was yelling. Well, Madame Pomphrey was yelling. Her head felt groggy with sleep, her body tender and aching as words flew in and out of her consciousness. "My job … remind you … insubordination … Potter …" At Harry's name Hermione fought through the haze of exhaustion to pulled herself up enough to see Madame Pomphrey demanding a certain pink toad leave the Hospital Wing.
"My patients aren't even awake yet!" the Matron insisted tersely. "You may be High Inquisitor, but this is a place of rest and recovery, and I refuse to wake them up just so you can strain them even further."
"I can talk to her," Hermione voiced, though too raspy for the strength she'd been trying to show in front of the horrible woman. Umbridge looked gleefully at her, knowing she was awake. "I'm awake now."
"Oh, dear," Madame Pomphrey bustled over, wand waving and diagnostic charms checking her all over. "You're system is still weak, Apprentice. You shouldn't strain yourself."
"I'm fine, promise. Can you check on Harry?" Hermione levelled a hateful glance at the pink pig. "I need to speak to our High Inquisitor."
Madame Pomphrey sighed but acquiesced, heading over to Harry to get out the fussing that would have been spent on her. Lucky for the poor boy he was still fast asleep.
Professor Umbridge came as close as the end of her bed in order to look down on her with her burnt-caramel smile but no further. Carrying a clipboard, Hermione noted, and a self-inking quill.
"Feeling better, Apprentice?" So she didn't get a name today, Hermione noted. I might have been offensive if she cared. "There has been some talk since you were … rendered incapable yesterday. I just wanted to confirm the real reason you are in the Hospital Wing with Mr. Potter."
Hermione copied Severus' infamous smirk, although the effect was lessened propped up on the pillow as she was. It still made Umbridge's smile turn sour.
"Harry and I were doing some magic, Professor, and got a little depleted," she explained vaguely, noting the red shade of her face that came from being frustrated. "You see, Harry and I don't have any proper family, so I thought I'd make him my real brother. Great news, isn't it?"
Umbridge's smile was more of a grimace. "Yes, congratulations. However, Mister Potter did this knowing he had a detention with me last night. I'm afraid I'll be adding two additional nights onto his current one. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course, Professor." Umbridge looked utterly victorious before she continued. "But it will have to be with another teacher. You see, I don't trust you with the discipline of my little brother. You've already scarred him, you see, and that is unacceptable for the heir to the Potter Lordship, don't you think?"
Her toady-eyes spit fire, but she still had that fixed smile on her face. "Surely you don't mean naughty boys should go unpunished?"
"Of course not," Hermione matched Umbridge's overly polite tone. "However, he will not be punished by you. I will of course be forced to take this up with the Board of Governors if you don't agree."
"And you really think the Board of Governors with side with you over me?" Umbridge sounded off. Her polite tone was gone, and her face turning a garish red. "I'm High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, and Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic! You are simply a hateful, immature, arrogant girl who only graduated early because of a senile Headmaster, and Mister Potter is a compulsive liar who needs every bit of discipline I can give him until he learns that children like him should be silent!"
Hermione rose shakily to her feet. She would not – would definitely not – allow this salad dodger to look down at her any more. This was a show of strength, and even if the woman were nearly the same height as her she straightened and did her best to look down her nose at the woman with every bit of hate in her.
"Let me make this clear to you," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "those kinds of statements will get you in trouble, Madame Umbridge. I know my rights as Harry's guardian and you saying those things in front of anyone besides me will be considered slander against my House. You know what that means?"
Umbridge took a step back at the ferocity in her tone. She was too weak to advance after her, but she continued her attack.
"It means that since you have no proof that Voldemort—" gasp, "—has not come back, I could demand restitution."
Umbridge pointed her pudgy finger rudely in her face. "The Ministry has said—"
"An excuse like 'the Ministry said' will not fly when there's no proof," she snarled. "I think you'd need to provide a body for that, wouldn't you? Wasn't Voldemort's body was never found?"
Hermione didn't let up. "And even if you did win that point with the Ministry, Harry is under my protection, understand? You will not defame Harry in front of his classmates or anyone else. And you will never hurt Harry again.
"I told you that the next time I caught you attacking Harry again that I would see you in Azkaban," she reminded her. "Let me expand on that, High Inquisitor. If you hurt any student again I will see you in Azkaban. I'll send proof to the Prophet and the Quibbler that you're abusing children. I'm sure that, with your Minister's Decree printed with it that even Fudge will turn on you and say he had nothing to do with the punishments just to save face.
"And if, for even a second, you hurt Harry I will not only duel you for harming my House's ward, but I will kill you in that duel as is my right. If you value your life you will not even think of Harry again. Are we clear?"
"You're threatening me?" Umbridge snarled. "Me?"
"No," Hermione levelled a look of pure contempt at the witch. "I am reminding you that there are consequences to hurting people. And to crossing me. If you think you can beat me in a fight I'd welcome you to test me. I'm usually not sadistic, but I can't promise not to smile when I divorce your head from your body."
Umbridge's face turned a shade of purple now, her face so contorted it was hard to tell exactly what her expression was. Her heels clacked as she stomped away down the rows of beds, but she should have known Umbridge would have the last word on the matter.
"I will be taking this up with the Board!" Umbridge screeched, turning briefly to point her chubby finger at her even as she rushed from the Hospital wing. "You will learn, girl!"
Despite wanting to bite back, she shut her mouth and let the spiteful woman leave with the final word. Hermione didn't want Harry hurt, but she silently hoped Umbridge made a failed attempt just so she could fight her. There was no way a woman who didn't even teach Defense practically could beat her with the training Moody had drilled into her skull.
"Scary. Brilliant, but scary."
Hermione whirled around to see a tired-looking but absolutely beaming, happy Harry awake on his bed. Even Madame Pomphrey was smiling, although hers was hidden behind her hand.
"Harry!"
She took a step in his direction but promptly tumbled to the ground with a squeak. Apparently adrenaline was the only reason she'd been allowed to stand when Umbridge was there. Her legs felt like stuffed jello … stuffed with lead, or maybe a baby elephant each. Her strength had apparently left with Umbridge.
"Miss Granger, really!" Madame Pomphrey bustled over. "I told you not to push yourself! Your system is already exhausted … See, there, you've already pushed yourself too far dealing with that dreadful woman. It's back into bed with you, and don't you think of stepping another foot out of it for the next few days or I will knock you out myself, you hear me?"
She was folded into the bed by the Matron with probably more vehemence than was warranted, earning a snicker from Harry that had her sticking out her tongue childishly. But the childishness filled her with a fondness and … what was it? There was a feeling from Harry, not strong yet because of her exhaustion, but she could only describe it as happy.
Did that mean the Horcrux was gone? Hermione tried to search with her magic but she couldn't even move her legs, let alone extend any energies outside herself. For once she wishd the Headmaster was here. He would be able to tell if the Horcrux was gone.
"Are you alright?" she asked Harry quickly, but couldn't help herself and turned to Madame Pomphrey. "His head's okay? He can talk, but does he remember everything, does he still have motor function?"
"Better than ever," Harry said, although his face twinged a bit as he tried to move his body. "I mean, feeling like I did that time I got hit by a double bludger, but still …"
"You are both fine, but you have had all your energy reserves completely depleted," Madame Pomphrey informed them. "Both of you are lucky that whatever passed through you was kept from depleting not only your brain but your vital organs. Now, you will feel less fatigued and sore in those areas, but I don't want to see you stress them anymore than your limbs, you hear? You are going to be taking Invigoration Draughts twice a day, and I have crafted a specific diet that you will follow as long as you're here. And you will not be feeding yourselves either for I am quite serious that you rest as much as possible.
"I understand neither of you want your school nurse feeding you," she looked down her nose at both of their blushing faces, "so luckily for the both of you, a couple of elves have already volunteered to bring your meals to you in a timely manner and take the time to feed you."
Hermione gulped. Her elves! They would be beside themselves, and they probably couldn't feel her magic anymore than she could. And she hadn't even told them she was adopting Harry, and they really should have been there since they were part of her family too, in their own sense. Oh, she'd botched everything with regards to them because she was so focused on Harry. She should at least call the Hogwarts ones, let them know what was happening and have them tell Csara and Helgy …
"I think I know the ones you mean," Hermione told Madame Pomphrey. "Frat, Gem, Pinky, Trink!"
All four elves popped in immediately, faces worried and excited all at once, ears wigglin back and forth as if the ears paced with worry instead of the elves.
"Mistress!" The elves cried, throwing themselves at the bed and hugging the sheets.
"Miss Granger, these are your elves?" Madame Pomphrey asked, shocked.
"Yes, ma'am," she replied. Hermione then turned back to her elves with an apologetic grimace at their panicky and frenetic care. "Sorry for worrying you. Do you know what happened?"
The elves nodded. "You is helping Master Potter likes you help Kreacher. And is making more family!"
Wording… Hermione resisted the urge to facepalm. "Yes, your little family is a little bigger. Harry is my brother now."
"Master!" Hermione turned and saw Harry with his own elf now sobbing at his side. It seemed he'd taken inspiration from her and summoned Rue as well.
"We're both fine now, though," she told her elves. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you about it ahead of time."
The elves all shook their heads. "We is happy to be serving the two Masters and our Mistress."
"Two Masters?" Harry gaped. "Wait, he's just your boyfriend, right? How can he be-?"
"Master and Mistress be bonded pair," Rue told his master eagerly. Hermione's eyes widened at the realization that she had never ordered that elf to secrecy, and since he was now a part of the family. . . "Magic be strong in bond."
"WHAT?!" It wasn't Harry that yelled, it was Madame Pomphrey. "You two got married and you didn't tell me?!"
"No, no!" Hermione raised her hands in surrender, trying to stave off two bad reactions. "It's the same bond as the beginning! It's my magic, we didn't get married, not legally. I swear, we're not married yet!"
Harry clearly didn't believe her, because he just looked dazed. "I have a brother-in-law too?"
Hermione tried to keep a straight face, she did. But just the absurdity that Harry would call Severus Snape his brother-in-law did her in. The laughter bubbled up her throat and before she knew it she was holding her stomach, wheezing with laughter. Even Madame Pomphrey, stoic and no-nonsense as she tends to be, was laughing lightly at Harry's words.
"Oh, oh, it hurts," Hermione moaned her next couple of laughs. "Harry, no, no! Never call him that; ha, it's too much!"
"What's the joke?" Harry asked blankly.
Madame Pomphrey gratefully stopped her laughing and his questions by going over the rules for their stay; they needed to sleep whenever they were tired no matter what time of day, do homework or another calming activity when they were awake, and there would be no walking unless she was there to help. If they did that, then we'd be out of the ward by the end of the weekend and ready for classes the next Monday.
When Poppy finally left them to it, Harry turned over in his bed, tucking himself in as if to sleep but still facing her with bright eyes.
"I feel … lighter," Harry said. The wonder in his eyes was heartrending, and Hermione warmed all over. "Is it gone? Is … HE gone?"
Hermione felt her smile wobble with emotion. "I think so. WE need to ask the Headmaster first, to be sure, but I think he might truly be out of your head."
The smile she got was blinding. "Does that mean you can tell me things now? That I can speak to Dumbledore again?"
"Harry…" How was she supposed to say this? "You should really be careful … about who you follow."
His smile died and brows furrowed. The light gone.
"But it's Dumbledore."
A sigh. It was moments like these she remembered how much longer she'd technically lived than Harry. Despite everything he'd lived through he was just so unbearably innocent. Naïve.
"Professor Dumbledore is still human," Hermione said deliberately. "And he has made many mistakes. You shouldn't follow him blindly, Harry."
"I agree."
Their heads swivelled and they saw the Headmaster, eyes old and ancient and deep, walking into the room with a black shadow following him. Severus. Hermione couldn't help but let her eyes linger on him before focusing back on the Headmaster.
She should have known Dumbledore'd come the moment they woke. That he'd know exactly when to appear. Hogwarts answered to him, and its walls heard everything.
"Headmaster." Even though she'd meant every word, she was still apologetic. "I-"
"I know, Apprentice," Dumbledore said, looking on her with kindness. "It is a good sister who protects her brother."
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry called hesitantly, "what does she mean?"
Hermione shared a look with the ancient wizard, prodding him. If anyone deserved the truth, it was the boy who'd been forced into the dark for so long. If Harry was truly free of the Horcrux, then she hoped to be completely honest with him.
His blue eyes turned to the Boy-Who-Lived. "Harry, I must apologize. I knew of the connection between you and Voldemort long before Miss Granger did, long before even you understood. I also know of the damage it would do to you. Yet I took it as fact that nothing could be done to change it.
"Your sister is right to be upset with me, Harry. For in the short time she has known about your troubles and their cause, her love for you has done what I had not – she saved your life."
Harry looked shell-shocked, but Hermione didn't know if it was from the revelation that he'd have died or the fact that the Headmaster had known that and done nothing. Still, she couldn't let it go. Her anger had been bubbling inside her for weeks and Harry deserved to know the whole truth.
"Don't you dare try to downplay this," Hermione said, glaring at the Headmaster. "If you're going to tell him, you tell him the truth."
With a sigh, the Headmaster sat on the end of Harry's bed. "Harry, perhaps we should have a talk. Would you mind terribly if I spoke to him in private, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shook her head no, but still felt as if she'd handed Harry over to Voldemort when Dumbledore placed a silencing ward around Harry's hospital bed. Although she shouldn't have, she looked to Severus for comfort. With thin lips, Severus approached her bed.
"Does he know?" There was no preamble, simply a pointed question.
Hermione shook her head, trying to soothe the line of his lips with a soft and loving smile. "I wouldn't do that without asking first. Promise."
Severus relaxed as muh as Severus ever did in public – a flicker of his eyes upwards and a deeper than normal breath. Within a half-second the tension returned though, black eyes sucking her in to a world of worry.
"The Dark Lord has summoned you," he said. "In two days time he expects me to deliver you to Malfoy Manor where he will be waiting with Lupin … and Greyback."
Hermione stiffened. Greyback. Targnak's warning ran through her head, the very possibility that he would sniff her out, set sparks of panic that she doused quickly before they could become a flame.
"Severus …" Hermione felt small looking up at him in her worry, a child looking for comfort.
"I have been assured you will not be killed, but I have no doubt you will be assaulted in some way," he stated stiffly. That he refused to meet her eyes when he said so told of his concern. "And should he attempt to keep you there I believe he expects you will escape. Which I insist you do without hesitation or restraint, regardless if it is in response to imprisonment or your torture."
Hermoine bit her lip nervously, but then shook the troubling thoughts from her head. They'd made provisions for her discovery, what would be done if Voldemort should come to know of her, er, magical composition. She would go and spare Severus the pain of disobeying his orders.
"I'll be fine," she promised. Severus deserved her comfort. Then, switching the subject, "About telling Harry…"
Severus pinched his nose. "You believe he will accept it? Respect the need for secrecy?"
"And he would probably do better in your Occlumency lessons too," she pointed out hopefully. "Or I could help him, like I should have been already. I, I really want to tell him."
Then a laugh bubbled over her lips. "He called you his brother-in-law."
The look of sheer horror on Severus' face was entirely worth it. She lost it, laughing with her tired stomach. Severus' lips quirked in amusement soon after, as he was wont to do when she was giggly.
"Fine," Severus said in resignation. "We have another few months for the boy to learn Occlumency before he inevitably has his annual reunion with the Dark Lord. Tell Potter. But you will ensure his silence on the matter, and there will be no chance of being overheard. Swear."
She felt herself beaming. "I promise, I promise! Thank you!"
Just then she felt her magic shift. Just a little, so weakly that it might as well have been a bowtruckle moving against a giant, but she felt enough to know the source. Harry. Hermione turned and saw Harry looking so incredibly angry and heartbroken that no hearing was necessary to know that the Headmaster had just told him – in whatever terms he'd chosen in order to minimize their impact – that he had been planning Harry's death.
She could see also that this was probably the perfect time for Dumbledore to tell him as well. The wild movements and anger that would normally been directed at the Headmaster was tempered by the simple fact that Harry struggled to even lift his arms. The anger was too exhausting with his already gross fatigue.
Her best friend – instead of yelling and jumping about – turned and buried his face into the scratchy Hospital Wing pillow and just cried.
When he shook off Dumbledore's hand, Hermione couldn't sit there any longer. It took using the bed posts and side tables but she pulled herself to Harry's bedside and crossed the silencing barrier Dumbledore had cast. Harry wasn't just crying. He was screaming his sobs, barely muffling the sheer heartbreak into the down.
Hermione sank heavily to his side on the bed and wrapped her arms around her new brother. Her arms weren't thrown off.
She turned to the Headmaster. Should she be feeling pity for him? For the trust he'd lost, for the relationship that had been hurt or even destroyed? Hermione sighed. He truly deserved her pity but also her reproach. Perhaps – now that Harry knew – she would try to speak a little on his behalf once Harry was calmer.
"You should go," she said.
Dumbledore said nothing but left, taking Severus with him.
With them gone, Hermione lay next to Harry and laid her arms around him She was much to tired to be able to pull him or anything like that.
"He w-was going to let-t, hic, him kill me," Harry cried. "I th-thought—"
"Shhh," Hermione hushed him. "Shhh."
Hermione held him until he cried himself to sleep before following soon after.
Harry's POV
"There we are," Dumbledore said, stashing away his wand again with a wink. "Just the two of us. Man to man, so they say."
Harry frowned. "Umm, sir, why does it need to be private?"
The brief playfulness was forgotten. Harry already regretted this line of questioning and his gut roiled in worry. If even the Headmaster looked serious it had to be bad. Dumbledore rarely looked serious. Not after he went after Quirrell, not after the Chamber of Secrets … he had been kind of serious after the Third Task, he guessed, but even that serious conversation hadn't made the Headmaster this sad-looking. Harry could swear he saw tears in his mentor's eyes.
"Your sister is still angry enough at me," the man said with a sad smile. "I think we'd both prefer she not interrupt as loudly as she would."
Now that worried Harry even more. "Why is she angry?"
"Because she loves you, and you have and would have suffered for my decisions," Dumbledore said, extending his hands. "I am not infallible, my boy."
"I know that!" Harry quickly reassured him. "I do!"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, Harry, this old man does not deserve the comfort of the innocent youth.
"It seems the time is coming close," he became serious once more. "And as the time comes, there is much that needs sharing. Shall I tell you a story, hmm?"
Harry nodded quickly. He was burning with curiousity.
"Thank you." Dumbledore nodded. "Now, the story begins with a job interview, funny enough. Have you ever wondered why Sybil came to Hogwarts, or why she was allowed to stay?"
He had. Everyone had except for people like Lavendar and Pavarti, the girls who just fluttered over their tea readings and charted their horoscopes all the time.
"The night I interviewed her, she had a moment of true prophecy. It was … a devastating pronouncement. It decreed that a boy born when you did – at the end of July – that was born of those who had thrice-defied him would be the one to kill Voldemort. That Voldemort would mark him as his equal, and that one could not live while the other survived."
His hand immediately flew to the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Harry felt his eyes go wide, felt his hands go clammy and shaky, felt his heart beat faster. This was the part everyone had been hiding from him all summer, all school year.
"Sybil was immediately put under my protection, but the harm was done. A portion of that prophecy made its way to Tom's ears and your parents became targets," Dumbledore continued. "It is the reason he made his way to Godric's Hollow that night. It was not mere spite that drove him to kill your parents, but his need to kill you to ensure his immortality."
The tired-looking Headmaster took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Harry felt like doing the same but kept himself from it. Any sign that he was sleepy and the Headmaster might think he was too tired to hear what he was saying.
"Then Voldemort cast his curse, only to have it rebound. Harry, that night Voldemort had planned on using your death – the death of the prophesied and promised savior – to create a horrible piece of magic. It is known as a Horcrux."
Harry felt sick as the Headmaster explained exactly what the hell a Horcrux was.
"He came to your home with his soul already ready to break away from what remained of the rest of his," the Headmaster explained. "And with that, when the curse touched you and the magics that your mother left with you forced it to rebound. that piece of soul that was already prepared by him broke off … and latched onto the nearest living thing. A baby boy with bright green eyes and a new scar where it could concentrate itself. A scar shaped like a lightning bolt."
"I-I-I," Harry chocked on the words threatening to burst from him with too much fear.
"Yes, Harry." Dumbledore patted his knee. "The connection you had to Voldemort was deeper than you knew. He lived on in you."
He had … Voldemort hadn't just been connected to him. He was in him. Hary felt sick. Had he been the reason he was back?
"And I knew this the moment I first saw you after the tragedy you had endured," reminisced Dumbledore. "I held you in my arms and felt the darkness that clung to you and knew that he would return. And I thought – incorrectly – that there was no way I could remove his soul from you. That the only way to remove a Horcrux from a living host was … for the host … to die."
Harry's breath stopped in his chest. Blue eyes met green and Harry looked in them, in his face, in his hands, anywhere that might tell him that what he said wasn't true.
Dumbledore looked just … so guilty. "Harry, my boy, Miss Granger figured out what you were and came to me. Demanding what my plan was to remove it from you. My plans … there was hope that you would return to us. If, if only Tom could cast the Killing Curse once more upon you, it might kill his soul and spare yours. Perhaps you would live that way. That the gift of your wand, of your scar, and of your mother's love would protect you just enough, one last time to keep you in this world."
"You – you were going to let him kill me," Harry breathed.
Suddenly Hermione's words made sense. The Headmaster was going to give him to Voldemort, was going to get him killed. And he knew this while Harry trotted along ignorantly and also angrily, worrying that the anger in his mind would take him over and make him just like the bad guys.
Harry's eyes welled with tears before he could even contain them. There was no reason to be surprised, no reason for tears – adults never cared about him. His own Aunt barely cared enough to shove medicine at him when he was sick, or to get him shots with DHS,or get him reading glasses from the local grocer. His Uncle and teachers were never kind. Dumbledore though, with his twinkling eyes … He'd always thought he was wanted with the strange man. That he was even cared for.
"I have no doubt you would have understood, when it came to it, that it was necessary," Dumbledore said. "You must understand even now, Harry, that –"
"I don't!" Harry yelled. "I don't understand! How could you?!"
That little bit of anger broke him. The ability to stay strong with straight back and firm face left him, his face crumpling to the tears and his spine bending as if someone had removed a piece of it.
"It was for the greater good."
"I don't care!" Harry yelled. "You were going to give me to him!"
He couldn't let them see this. His body was already wracking itself with sobs, his tears already covering his face. With effort he turned enough to push his face into his pillow, soaking it with his tears.
A hand, the Headmaster's. Harry shook him away. He couldn't take it.
Then a new hand. Softer and warmer, familiar. Hermione. And then, better than the hand, she moved to hug him. He felt safe and it only made him sob harder.
"You should go."
Hermione wasn't speaking to him, but to Dumbledore. She had seen him get upset and was throwing Dumbledore out. Why did she have to care about him so much? It would be easier to stop crying without her trying to help him. Without feeling so safe. How could he try to be strong when she was there to let him be weak?
But … Hermione was safe. Safe and, now, familial. He hiccuped. "He w-was going to let-t, hic, him kill me. I th-thought-"
"Shhh." She didn't want his explanations, instead just lying next to him and sushing him, like you would any crying child.
Harry felt so … protected. Even Dumbledore had said it, that Hermione had figured out yet again what was wrong and tried to help him. That Hermione was angry at him for how he'd been treated. Hermione had gone to bat for him against Dumbledore, the man even Voldemort was scared of. She'd been angry for him. She'd been looking out for him. It may have been an accident with the adoption, but Hermione was the second woman in his life who had saved him. His mum first… and now his sister.
He was so angry at Dumbledore, so sad, but maybe the Headmaster was right. Maybe love was more powerful than he'd thought. After all, he'd be dead now without it.
