Harry blinked, trying to get out a question. He remembered Narcissa and Snape kissing in the family room, the way they had been pressed so close together, but surely –
Miriam took his arm and pulled him towards the door, and Harry stumbled to keep pace with her. He made a sputtering sound, but Snape was not looking at him. Instead, Snape frowned down at Gringwad who kept smirking.
"Now that he's out of the way, perhaps you and I can negotiate," Gringwad said. "We both are in precarious positions, considering what we have done and . . ."
Harry couldn't hear anymore as Miriam hustled him to the stairs. She was saying comforting things like "We'll get you sorted out," and "You'll be right again with a bath and good food," when a voice called out from behind,
"Harry!"
He paused with one foot on the first stair to see Hermione come after them.
She looked so familiar – running too fast, stopping too quickly, all flustered by what she wanted to say but not knowing how to start.
"I just –" she smiled, frowned, and then shook her head. "I missed you. Ron missed you. We all missed you so much. How could you stay away so long?"
"But you –" he trailed off as he motioned to the parlor where the rumble of Gringwad and Snape's voices could still be heard.
"That is going to be some mess to straighten. But," she hesitated with a glance to Miriam, "we'll talk later. And I promise," she squeezed his hand impulsively, "I'll explain anything you want to know."
Another trusting smile and Hermione tripped quickly back to the parlor, shutting the door behind her.
Harry gritted his teeth at the shut door, but Miriam was moving up the stairs, and he followed suit. The portraits were muttering to each other, glaring down at him in disapproval, and one huffed "Young ruffian!" under his dignified mustache as Harry passed.
"Are you allowed to talk to me?" Harry ventured once they were past the portraits.
Miriam laughed softly. "Of course, dear. No one is trying to keep secrets from you."
"Everyone is keeping me in the dark."
"Well, I can't speak for Mr. Gringwad. He seems to be the sort of creature who enjoys secrecy and trickery, probably too much. But Mr. Snape is rather put out with you."
She opened a door, and Harry found himself back in his old bedroom with its twin beds and window facing the gardens.
"Here, sit down," Miriam pulled a wooden chair into the middle of the room. "Are you hurt?"
When he sat, she brushed his filthy hair back so she could look in his eyes, gently tilting his head from side to side before taking up his hands. She tutted over his sore wrists that had rubbed against the manacles and pulled various bottles out of a bag that Harry didn't even see her bring in.
"I'm fine. What has happened since I left? You all are here and... .?"
"So much has happened and it's rather selfish of you to appear and demand answers, but seeing your state, I suppose you've been partly punished," she poured out a thick liquid from one bottle and rubbed it into a cloth before applying it to his wrists. "There was a massive hunt for you. Rewards and posters everywhere, and Aurors bustling around and everyone being asked questions and turning out their house so the Ministry could search. But no one could find you here. Hunts went on throughout Europe, but not a person could find you."
She moved out to another bottle which Harry recognized as a Calming Draught, but he willingly took it just so she would keep talking.
"In all the hunting, Mr. Snape went home to the manor, and Miss Narcissa went with him. Master Draco came along, but Master Ronald and Miss Genevra went home to their family. In the confusion, Miss Hermione and Miss Genevra switched places, but Miss Hermione did not have a place to go. She was not allowed to go back to Hogwarts, and it would not be fair to send her to prison all alone. Swallow this, dear, and then I'll cut some of your hair."
Harry gulped down another spoonful of something yucky and held still while she found a pair of scissors. When she started trimming his dirty hair, she concentrated on her task, and he had to prompt,
"So Hermione came here?"
"She did. But Miss Narcissa insisted that I be hired. She thought it would look improper to have a gentleman and a lady, a young man and a young lady living all under one roof without anyone married. So I was hired on as a nanny though I thought the young people were too old to need a nanny. But as it turns out, I keep quite busy. Miss Hermione is so involved in her work and studies that she forgets to eat or sleep, and Master Draco has a hot temper and often butts heads with the master so he must be soothed and walked 'round the garden to calm down. Miss Narcissa worries too much, and Mr. Snape – well, he brooded so long I had to insist that he focus on the people inside his home instead of searching the world for –"
She broke off and Harry looked away guiltily.
Miriam moved behind him to trim the back, but she kept going, "So we've set up a household here. Miss Hermione makes weekly visits to the Weasleys' home, and Miss Narcissa has become involved in the Ministry, helping to round up Deatheaters and lobbying for new changes. Scrimgeour is still the minister, but he has lost most of his powers. We have many visitors from the Ministry and Diagon Alley who want support for various endeavors as well as those who want us to stay out of it all."
"Gringwad said he sneaked in and stole things from the manor," Harry ventured.
"What a terrible man you've brought here," Miriam snipped the scissors with disdain. "He came once, but Mr. Snape did not speak to him for very long. He sounds like a bully and a mean creature."
Harry didn't have an answer for that so he asked, "Did you mind leaving St. Mungo's and your healing work?"
"Oh, no, I was fired."
Harry froze at the abruptness of her tone, but she kept snipping at his hair as she continued, "When you escaped from St. Mungo's, I was fired immediately. When you escaped from Azkaban, Scrimgeour tried to blame some of it on me. He wanted to send me to prison, but Mr. Snape stepped in and refused to let me go. I am very grateful to have a home and a family to take care of now."
"You have no family?"
"I had a husband. He died protecting the Marauders against Voldemort. We had no children. I never remarried. It's hard when you lose the love of your life who is also your best friend."
Her words hit Harry hard, and he turned to look at her, but she moved his head back to face straight ahead.
"All to say, I'm glad to have a home again. It's been a long, lonely time."
"I'm sorry," Harry rushed out. "I'm so sorry."
"That wasn't your fault. A good many things are your fault, but not that. Good people have to rise up and speak out against evil or it will destroy us all. There, I'm done with that bit. Let's get you into the tub."
The tub was filled with hot, foamy water and bubbles, and steam had already clouded the mirrors when they went into the bathroom. A wooden screen had been set up, and Miriam maneuvered it so Harry would have some privacy to undress.
He stripped off his dirty rags and got into the tub, sliding down in the hot water until it came up to cover his shoulder. He made a sighing noise of pure bliss, and Miriam chuckled.
"It's been a while since you had a proper bath?"
"Months," Harry closed his eyes. He sensed movement, and he opened one eye to glare at the bath brush which had hopped over to the bar of soap. A bottle of shampoo hovered by, as if worried it would be left out of the task of cleaning. "Give me time to enjoy this before you scrub me."
Miriam chuckled again as she gathered up his dirty clothes and placed folded towels next to the tub. She took off his glasses and left the bathroom.
The potions were working on him, pulling him down to sleepiness, but Harry finally sat up and let the brush suds itself up and scrub him.
When he stumbled out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, he was surprised to find himself dressed in pajamas.
"I thought a short nap might be in order," Miriam was turning down one of the beds. "After a bite to eat, of course."
Harry wanted to object, but she took the top of a tray, and he saw a sandwich, two pastries, and a cup of cold pumpkin juice.
Seconds later, he was in bed, tearing into the food and gulping down the drink. It had been seven months since he had tasted British food, and though he felt that somehow he was betraying the little beach town in Ghana that had welcomed him, he felt like he hadn't really eaten since he had left the manor. He finished everything and would have eaten more, but Miriam was tucking him in, assuring him,
"There will be dinner later. Just sleep for now and regain your strength."
Harry forced his eyes open to ask, "Is Narcissa and Snape – are they married?"
"Engaged." Miriam pulled the curtains over the windows.
"He asked her to marry him so fast."
"Yes, but –" Miriam stopped. She pressed her lips together, but Harry prodded,
"But?"
"I would never speak a word against Miss Narcissa or Mr. Snape."
"But?"
"Circumstances like these create a sense of urgency. In times of turmoil, in stress, especially after loss and uncertainty, people often feel desperate for assurance to ground themselves. I wasn't surprised when Mr. Snape proposed, but only time will tell if this is a love to stand the test of time or if it's a welcomed distraction for two hurting people."
Harry opened his mouth, but Miriam shook her head.
"Not another word. Straight to sleep with you, young man."
She took the tray and left.
Harry stared up at the ceiling, trying to hold onto a single thought as his head whirled with all the new information. Sleep was insistently pulling him down, but he tried to ignore it long enough to form a coherent plan, something to pull control back into his corner. But sleep would not be dismissed, and he gave in within ten seconds.
HP& HP& HP&HP
A soft paw patted on his nose. Harry brushed it off and heard a meow of protest.
"Leave him alone!"
He opened his eyes to see Hermione pulling back Crookshanks and holding the cat as she sat on the foot of his bed.
"What time is it?" he propped himself up on one elbow and reached for his glasses.
"About two. You've slept for hours, and Snape said you should wake up so he can tear your head off."
"What's happened?"
"Well, he and Gringwad locked themselves in the study and Narcissa wouldn't let us listen at the door, so I went for a walk. Nanny makes me get some kind of exercise every day. She says I'll wear my eyes out with all the reading I do." Hermione cuddled the cat which meowed loudly. "It's so much fun, all this. It's almost like a Victorian novel around here – a lord and lady of the manor, the young master, a faithful nanny, and who am I? The heroine of the story or the penniless cousin who is so wretched she must grouse and grub all over the manor?"
"No, that's me," Harry grumbled as he sat up. "You get to be the princess. I'm the chimney sweep."
Hermione finally let the cat go. Crookshanks went to sit on the other bed and groom fussily, but Hermione didn't move. "I'm furious with you."
"Then queue up behind the others. And I never did understand how you escaped going to Azkaban with us. Ron was off his head."
"We've made up." She spoke calmly, but her cheeks went pink, and Harry didn't dare ask for more details. "And don't try to change the subject. Ron agreed with our plan once he learned it afterward, and he didn't run away for half a year either."
"Will someone just tell me what the plan was? I admit I was too stupid to see Snape's hidden message."
"You've always been a bit thick," Hermione looked prissy, but she relented, "but Snape likes his spy schemes too much. You two are opposite there – you the ready warrior and he the mysterious spy."
"Just tell me before someone interrupts us. What was Snape planning to do?"
Hermione let her breath out before starting, "I don't know everything because it's Snape after all. He never lets on more than he can. But apparently, he and Narcissa were gathering up all this support to overrule Scrimgeour. They were going to march to the Ministry and demand that we all be released. The trial was a complete mess. I was set to researching how the Minister of Magic is supposed to conduct themselves, and Scrimgeour broke all kinds of conventions and bylaws and protocols. I also found a difference between trials where the accused were underage as opposed to of-age, and the Ministry lets more questions occur when it's underage. Remember when you were accused of using magic at your uncle's house two years ago, and Dumbledore stood up for you? Well, it should be more like that."
Harry said nothing, listening intently.
"And the evidence was mounting up against Scrimgeour. He only got the position because Fudge made a fool of himself. Snape was going to bring the hammer down – he had so many people who would speak out against the way Scrimgeour handled your escapades and movements. And, this is rough for me to say," she pressed her lips together, "but Snape was right in having you go to Azkaban. He wanted all distractions out of the way. He knew he could fight the Ministry once you and Ron and Draco and technically me were out of the way."
"What?"
"Because our trial was focused on us and the horrible things we did. Once we were in Azkaban, all of the attention would center on Scrimgeour and the fact that he can't oversee effectively and made too many mistakes. So many crimes need a culprit, and if you weren't there, Snape would have had an easier task of turning everyone against Scrimgeour. We had lines of communication everywhere – damning articles in all the papers, letters from all over the country, books full of ancient laws, crowds of wizards and witches ready to trounce the Ministry for their lack of preparation against Voldemort. It was brilliant, as Ron would say, but then you broke out."
"I didn't know any of this," Harry protested.
"Snape said it was in the message hidden in the pocketwatch."
"He encoded it so – no one could have guessed."
"The message was my idea," Hermione crossed her arms. "I told him he would have to give you something to keep your trust up. He was going to put the information in the pocketwatch, and I said it needed to be inferred through a note. I came up with the 'one day at a time' line. He thought that was clever, and you know Snape never praises me."
Harry swallowed hard, biting his tongue to keep from snapping at her. Hermione always assumed everyone was as smart as she was, and it was frustrating, but currently she was still willing to relay more information, and he wasn't about to lose that.
"So, you decided to stay here?"
"I was tentative at first, because Snape hasn't always treated me well." Hermione's face took on the serious, concentrated expression she wore whenever she was pulling up past memories and wanted to be as accurate as possible. Harry wondered if she feared that someone might try to contradict her memory of what had occurred, and he imagined her memory as if she was constantly taking mental notes, like minutes at a meeting. "When he insisted I stay here, I told him that I would only agree if he treated me as a junior colleague."
"Junior colleague?"
"That was the only term I could think of. I told him flat out that I was not looking for a surrogate father, I had lovely parents, and I was not looking to replace them. If he were going to treat me like some sort of daughter, well, then, I would not stay. If he could treat me as a fellow researcher in training as a purely professional role, I would stay. He was upset at losing you, but I was not about to be a replacement for some prodigal son."
Harry didn't say anything.
"He agreed I would act as a junior colleague with my own rooms, my own schedule, and even a stipend to pay for expenses. I insisted I buy my own clothes, but Narcissa keeps slipping dresses into my cupboards, and she makes the house elves work on my hair every morning." Hermione ran a hand over her hair that wasn't as bushy and unwieldly as Harry remembered. "I eat supper with the family every night, and Nanny does fuss over me and insist I go to bed by midnight each night."
"The Ministry doesn't bother you?"
"Once the dust settled, I went to make a formal statement that I would be staying at Snapdragon Manor, and I would be resuming my studies. McGonagall agreed to oversee my studies by owl post, and I was able to complete my sixth and seventh year in the last six months. McGonagall wants me to train as a teacher. Nanny says I should be an Auror, Narcissa wants me to work for the Ministry. Snape hasn't made a suggestion about my future yet, but he told me flat out I was only allowed to visit Ron once a week. Narcissa said I should aim higher than the Weasleys, but I set her straight about Ron and she hasn't mentioned it again."
"What does Ron want?"
"He wants to elope," Hermione smiled self-consciously, "but I refused. If we didn't elope at our worst moments before the trial, then we aren't going to run off now that our lives have settled. He can wait. I insist he has to finish school and find a suitable position, but he claims that will take years and he'll die if he has to wait."
"So . . . everyone has gotten on with their lives but me," Harry muttered.
Hermione fixed him with her sternest stare. "Don't you dare feel sorry for yourself. You left without a word and stayed away for months. Did you expect us to sit on our hands and mope until you came back? Did you think we would stay frozen in time until you deigned to grace us with your presence? Life moves on, Harry. That's what it does. You didn't come home –"
"I didn't know how!"
"That's not my fault. You have this awkward dance with Snape where you keep secrets from each other and imply everything instead of saying it outright. I'm not playing those games with Snape, and I'm not playing them with you, not anymore."
"Yes, you are. You won't tell me what you're researching."
"I'm researching you," Hermione pushed herself off the bed. "I'm researching the magic that linked you to Voldemort and that your mother channeled. Snape is now linked to the three of you because he was scattered, but the magic is all there, a new undercurrent of soemthing very old and very, very powerful. I'm experimenting on the magic as a part of a blood tie and the fact that your mother might have had ancient Seer gifts that cropped up intermittently through her Muggle line."
Harry just stared at her.
"Part of my research is book-based, part of it is on experimental magic, and part of it is on subjects. Snape has volunteered to help, but my research will be easier now that you're here and I don't have to use your personal possessions to gather your essence."
"Hermione," Harry gaped, "I'm not your – your experiment."
"Gringwad is going to insist that you are his apprentice, but Snape and I have claim to you first. And don't look so shocked. I have followed you through one crazy adventure after another all through Hogwarts. Now I get to lead the adventure for a while."
"By turning me into a lab experiment?"
"Don't you want to know about your own powers? You are just as powerful as Voldemort, you haven't even needed a wand since you left Hogwarts, you escaped detection for months while most of the Wizarding world was looking for you. Don't you want to understand what has happened to you, how you've changed?"
"I don't know. I don't know what I want."
"Well, figure it out," Hermione frowned at him. "And Snape said once we were done talking, you were to get dressed and come downstairs. And if you even thought of Apparating out of here, I was to perform a stunning spell."
"I'm surrounded by over-controlling know-it-alls!"
"Yes, I apologize for us, and I apologize for this," Hermione pulled out her wand, pointed it at him, and made a zigzagged motion as she said, "Lenis."
Harry felt his face tingle, and when he reached up to touch his jaw, the scruff of facial hair had disappeared, leaving his skin smooth.
"I made that spell up. Since I've lived here, I've invented 37 new spells. Draco agreed to be my test subject for that one because I was inventing a charm to help him fly faster on his broom. Come, Crookshanks."
Hermione and the cat went out, and the room fell quiet in the same odd way it did every time she left.
Harry set his teeth against the annoyance, the confusion, the need to get more information, the want to yell at the world to slow down for one second while he got control of his bearings. After months of loneliness and isolation, the last few days were overwhelming. He would have given anything for a solitary hour to piece together all the new information and devise a plan that got him out of trouble, out of the apprenticeship, back into favor with Snape, back to things the way they had been before he abandoned everyone and . . .
He threw the covers off, stomped over to the bureau, and pulled out clothes to get dressed and go downstairs to see Snape.
