Hello to all!
I hope you've had a good two weeks. It's been long... and now it's finals week... ugh. At least I'll soon have two weeks of vacation in which to write! I'm almost done with 24, so I'm quite happy.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Jeez, you guys are temperamental! 40 reviews on chapter and 15 the next? Y'all are giving me heart palpitations.
Enjoy!
Chapter 20
"Our spy network?" Hermione asked, swallowing roughly. "Severus…" She had no excuses, nothing to say.
Severus clenched his jaw, then released it. "You are my liaison with the Outer Circle of the Order. If something happens to me, you will need to know who the spies are and how to control them."
Hermione held her breath for a moment, then released it slowly. "Alright. Let's go." She was quiet for a moment. "You don't need this cloak?"
He grinned wryly. "I have two," he said. Hermione smiled back. It was plain to her this was the one he had used before- it smelled of him, of herbs and books and rain.
The trip through to corridors was short- Severus escorted her to a secret passage almost directly outside of his chambers that he used when leaving the castle, pausing briefly to give her the password and show her how to open it. From there it was a quick trip through the blackness of the Hogwarts grounds at night to a small, concealed side entrance to the gates. They slipped through, and then Severus offered Hermione his arm and Side-Along Apparated with her.
They went first to the group of informers Severus had code-named after characters in The Odyssey. They were the ones who lived or worked in Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley, with instructions to report any interesting tidbits of information they heard.
Telemachus, the spy who had died much earlier in the year, had been one of these.
There was Penelope, a tall witch with long blonde hair who eyed Severus fearfully and glared at Hermione. She worked at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, which frequently received orders for dress robes from purebloods for social gatherings.
There was Calypso, the leader of the group of prostitutes who worked in one of the high end brothels of Knockturn Alley, one that advertised as being "pureblood witches only." That particular establishment preyed on the illegitimate bastards of wealthy pureblood lords, the girls who were banished from their families for some unspeakable offense, and trafficking from the poorer sections of Europe. The purebloods of Wizarding Germany, especially, had fallen on hard times after the defeat of Grindelwald. Hermione felt another part of the naïve little girl inside her die at the appraising look of the courtesan- still haughtily beautiful at thirty, a woman who flowed rather than walked and who looked directly at the place she judged Snape's eyes to be.
A small man with a runny nose and chapped lips was called Polyphemus. According to Severus, he was an partial owner of the industry giant that was The Daily Prophet, the newspaper that continued to dictate what the sheep of the Wizarding World read, thought, and repeated.
Eurykleia was an old woman who worked had worked as a nurse at St. Mungo's and now worked as an independent midwife. Reputed as one of the best, she saw the inside of many pureblood homes.
On and on it went, Severus and Hermione stalking silently from one corner to the next, waiting in the cold as Severus called one informer after another through the enchanted contracts they had all signed. One after another they approached the two dark figures, all eyeing Hermione's smaller form warily. Some had refused to approach the two of them, waiting until Severus had talked to them alone first. One by one they came to Severus and spilled their secrets, their tidbits of information.
"You have names for them," she remarked quietly as they waited for a man called Abraham (this section of Hogsmeade was named for the Old Testament). "What do they call you?"
She could see his face, and it was harsh and solemn in the night. "The Whisper Man," he said finally. "Only a fraction of them know who I am. It is safer that way. The only thing they know is that I deal in secrets, which are best told in whispers. They know to be afraid of me; they will only speak my name under their breath."
It was the darkest part of the night when Hermione and Severus reentered Hogwarts. Hermione's hands were clammy and she knew her face was pale, but she steeled herself regardless. The last thing she wanted was to give Severus the impression that she was too weak for this type of work.
The two were silent as they made their way back to Severus's quarters, hanging their cloaks on the hook and shivering in the cold air of the dungeons. The fire had gone out- Severus bent to restart it and Hermione drifted into the kitchen to make tea.
The kitchen was small and serviceable, only just large enough to brew tea and occasionally make a meal. It was the cooking area of a Hogwarts teacher for certain- most meals were taken in the Great Hall with the students. Hermione supposed that the only time Severus really used the small stove and the few cabinets was over breaks, if he stayed at Hogwarts as was his habit.
The simple act of making tea calmed her mind and stopped the slight trembling of her fingers. She used the teapot they normally used, a beautiful work of black porcelain with small raised lines that formed a design like lace. It was strange to her, to imagine Severus Snape owning a thing of such beauty; most of his furniture and clothes were neat and in good shape, but not extravagant.
"Where did you get this?" she asked, carrying the tray over the sitting room, where Severus was sitting and staring at the fire.
He frowned up at her. "Get what?"
"This," Hermione said again, lifting the teapot and pouring. "It's beautiful."
For some reason Severus' jaw clenched and he looked away. "It is one of the few things I kept from my boyhood," he said, voice clipped and precise. "I believe that pot was originally my great-great-grandmother's. Mother's side."
"Oh," Hermione said quietly. Sudden, burning curiosity swept through her. "What was she like?"
He wasn't looking at her- he refused to look at her, it seemed. "Why do you want to know?" His normally smooth voice was rough, like pieces of honey that had crystallized and hardened at the edges of the jar.
Why did she want to know? Because I want to know everything about him. "I- she was your mother. She probably had a great deal to do with shaping you into the person you are and- well, if she was, then I'd thank her for it." It sounded terribly foolish to her, and for a moment Hermione worried that Severus was going to toss her bodily from his rooms.
But again he spoke, voice still strained. "Elaine Snape, nee Prince, was a witch who was stupid enough to think a Muggle loved her. She gave up her family, her fortune, and his magic for him and in return he beat her and the first time her son accidentally performed magic, he beat him too. She died at my father's hand when I was seventeen and by then I didn't care."
Hermione couldn't help but stare at him, stricken. "Severus-"
"My home life was not bearable," he hissed at her. "If you were wanting loving tales of doting parents and a loving family to make you feel better-"
"I wanted no such thing," Hermione interrupted. "I thought- well- you have to have some happy memories of your childhood!"
Something changed in his posture; if it was possible he went even stiffer and the line of his jaw hardened further. "You have no right to the happy moments of my childhood."
"Funny," Hermione said, anger and shame unsettling her stomach and taking away her self-control. "Because you've had plenty of mine."
"You jest," he sneered. "No one in their right mind-"
"Well then maybe I'm not in my right mind," Hermione snapped. "Think about it, Severus."
Perhaps he was thinking about it- the two of them went silent, Hermione staring into the fire, and Severus off into the corner where the liquor was held. When she tried sipping at her tea, it was lukewarm. I screwed up, Hermione thought regretfully.
She stood, clumsily, nearly knocking over the tea set still on the table. "Sorry," she muttered.
"Where are you going?" Severus asked, and although his voice still held traces of his previous anger, it was milder.
Blood flooded to her cheeks and stained them red. "I've obviously upset you," Hermione said haltingly. "I'm sorry. I won't bother you any longer and-"
"Sit," Severus snapped at her. "And what?" When she finally met his eyes, he looked wary and slightly- scared? No- it was probably just her twisted perception.
She sat. "And my tea was cold?" She really didn't have a better reason.
He snorted, waving a hand at the tea cup and muttering something under his breath that sent steam rising up in delicate swirls. "There."
"Thank you," Hermione said. Awkwardness colored her movements; her hands were jerky as she picked up the tea cup once more and she drank too soon and burned her mouth. One hand picked at the hem of her skirt.
They sat in silence for a long time before either spoke again.
"Never breathe a word of what I tell you to Dumbledore," Severus said, voice clear. "Or Potter. Anyone."
"I would never," said Hermione quietly.
Apparently he had applied the same trick to his tea, because it was steaming as he raised his mug to his mouth. After some time, he said, "I know."
Curiosity wound through Hermione, creating a sensation quite like a person gets when the desire to fidget is strong but one is being watched by a stern teacher. Somehow she made herself composed, even as her internal dialogue spouted off in one direction.
He's actually going to tell me something- I can't believe it what is he going to say is it about his childhood he such a private man I can't believe he's going to tell me something about himself-
"You already know that my father beat my mother and I, which is far more than most," Severus said at last. "McGonagall and Dumbledore knew, of course. Madame Pomfrey. Lucius. Narcissa, perhaps. Draco doesn't know. The Dark Lord knows. And-" he looked away from her, "Lily Evans."
All thought stopped for the slightest moment, and then Hermione's mind was blaring away. Even so, she had the sense not to interrupt.
"She was Lily Evans when we were children," continued Snape. "I- I used to watch her and her sister. I saw Lily doing magic one day and I wanted to see if her family was Wizarding or Muggle. I- they were Muggles, all of them, except for her."
Hermione couldn't contain herself anymore. "Lily Evans… as in Lily Potter?" she asked.
Severus nodded tersely. "It was different, back then. She cared about me in her own selfish way. She didn't like seeing people or animals hurt- but in the sense that she didn't like seeing it because if she did see it she could not pretend that cruelty didn't exist. Lily liked having a perfect world- both Evans girls did. Petunia wanted everything to be as normal as could be and Lily wanted to live in a fairy tale."
"Who- who were you to her?"
"I was Lily's introduction to magic," Severus said, and Hermione thought she could detect a certain bitterness in the way his voice curled around the other woman's name. That area inside her rib cage that had been all a-twitter lately clenched hard. "I told her about the Wizarding world, I told her about Hogwarts and spells and magic and she soaked it all in like a sponge. After she got her Hogwarts letter we- we celebrated. She invited me over for dinner at her house one night and I made a mess out of it but all she did was laugh."
Hermione's gut was clenching and coiling mercilessly. Did he love her? Lily Potter? Paragon of Virtue Lily Potter? "And you were still friends at Hogwarts?"
He had a faraway look to his face now, a cast that told her he was speaking from the past and not the present. "Lily and I shared a compartment on September first, when our robes had no colored trims. I was so upset that she got Sorted into Gryffindor that I asked the Sorting Hat to place me there." There was definitely bitterness in his voice now. "It refused. It said that I was making the choice for the wrong reasons and that with my talents Gryffindor would break me and Slytherin would make me stronger. But Lily and I promised that we would stay friends forever, and that we would be the one to break House rivalries."
Hermione had an idea where it was going. "But it didn't stay that way?"
Severus made a sound low in his throat. "Everyone thinks of Lily Evans as the woman who gave birth to Harry Potter," he said angrily. "She became a martyr and lost all her faults in the process. They forget she was a selfish girl who held famously long grudges and was so determined to be surrounded in all that was pretty and light that she would actively turn her face from the darkness and say it didn't exist."
It broke her heart to see him this bitter. "She couldn't have been awful," Hermione whispered.
"She wasn't," Severus responded coldly, hands clenched tight on the arms of his chair. He had discarded the tea a while ago. "She was beautiful and intelligent and bright- she captured the heart of anyone who talked to her for five minutes and as long as they only talked to her in five minute increments she was extraordinarily kind and pretty and smart. Lily had a mask that she showed the world and the only reason she ever dropped it around me was because I wasn't important enough to warrant impressing."
"What did she do to you?" Hermione asked, aware of the sadness in her voice. "Severus, what did she do to you?"
He met her eyes for the first time since he had mentioned Lily Evans. "You're the only person who would ask me that," he said after a long pause. "Everyone else would have asked me what I did to her."
She waited for him to answer. Fatigue was bearing down on Hermione- it was close to dawn, and she still hadn't slept. The weariness and the sadness had lowered her boundaries, and the haze of drowsiness over her mind and eyes gave the entire conversation a type of surreal atmosphere, as if she was wrapped in a veil and stuck in a dream.
"She acted like she- we worked on Potions together. Invented spells. Read books and talked about them. But- we grew apart. Lucius had already ordered some of the older Slytherins to befriend me, and James Potter was slowly changing Lily's mind." The way he had said the name 'James Potter' was more than Hermione could handle. "They were- they used my own spells against me and were-" His tone suddenly changed, becoming far more clinical. "Lily stepped in to tell Potter off. I was upset, humiliated- I called her a Mudblood."
Hermione could taste blood in her mouth from where she bit at her lip. "And she was mad?"
"From then on we were no longer friends," Snape said bitterly. "She had been looking for a way out of our friendship for a while, and this was the perfect excuse. A year later she was laughing whenever Potter mocked me and a year after that she and Potter were announcing their engagement."
Hermione's head was spinning- there was so much information, so much revealed to her, almost too much about Severus and his past and his history. "I'm sorry," said Hermione honestly. "Severus- I'm so sorry."
His face was blank, but his hands were still tightly clenched and there was a sense of controlled anger and sadness around him. "So now you understand," he said simply. "Why. Why I protect Potter and why I'm the bitter old man that I am."
It hit her in a moment that was quite unlike anything Hermione had ever experienced before; the growing sense of dread deepened and she just wanted to close her eyes and struggle to breathe. He loved her. They weren't just friends he was in love with her. That's why he did what he did- why he turned- it was all for Lily's sake, and he protects her son because he could not protect her.
She wanted to keen her grief, so sharp and sudden, a realization that she had lost something she could never have had in the first place, something that she had only vaguely assumed she wanted before it was taken away and she had discovered she needed it like she needed air or blood or magic.
"You betrayed the Death Eaters for her, didn't you?" she made herself ask. "That's how Dumbledore knows he can trust you, it's in all the cryptic hints he's always dropping-"
"Hints?" Severus interjected sharply. "He's-" he couldn't continue.
"No, no," said Hermione, shaking her head. "They wouldn't make sense in any context but this one and it's so- forgive me, but it's so far fetched I don't see how anyone could make the connection." Remus might, she thought to herself. If he doesn't already know. Sirius. Maybe that's why he hates Severus so much- because he knows that the only reason Severus is on our side is because he was in love with the wife of his dead friend.
The tears were threatening, and her control was weak from weariness. She yawned widely, standing on trembling legs. "I need to go sleep," she said, almost tripping over her words in her haste. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Hermione regarded the Room of Requirement with awe, Harry and Ron trailing in behind her. A room that could become whatever the witch or wizard wanted it to be? Filled with books that had to have come from somewhere, but those Hermione had never seen in the Hogwarts Library? Where one could think of a thing and it would appear?
Shivers ran down her spine. She wasn't quite sure that the presence and capabilities of this room should be made known to the general population of Hogwarts. In fact, she was sure of it.
"Harry, Ron," she called, putting down the book she had been using a cover to think furiously. "Come here."
They didn't question the authority in her voice. She made sure her face was dead serious, meeting both their eyes before focusing on Harry.
"We tell no one about the properties of this room," she said harshly. "No one. Not Ginny, not Cho, no one."
They both gaped at her. "But Hermione-" Ron began.
"No one," Hermione insisted, cutting him off with a wave of her hand for emphasis. "Do you realize what someone could do with this place? I'll need to test it, but Ron, it's dangerous. Someone could wish for a room that would contain undetectable poisons, ask it to hide him or her from a search party, or even request an unblocked Floo into Hogwarts. They could hide dangerous things inside of here, they could work on illegal projects undetected, they could ask for Polyjuice or an Invisibility Cloak or an enchanted dagger and no one would be the wiser."
Harry's face hardened into a frown. "That's a bit dramatic, Hermione."
She put the book down with a thump, then concentrated. If she had blinked, she would have missed the movement. The floor beneath Harry and Ron had sunk into two cylindrical pits, six feet deep and three across. The two boys were trapped. "Do you want me to ask the room to fill those with water?" asked Hermione dangerously. "Or with Devil's Snare? Or with snakes? Because I'm sure whatever it is that controls this room would oblige me."
Both the boys were staring up at her, with fear etched into their faces. Harry's eyes were narrowed, glaring up at her. Ron was turning red.
"We can just wish ourselves out," stated Harry grimly.
Hermione allowed a cool smirk to drift onto her face. "Try."
Now it was Harry's face that was turning a bright red as he strained. Hermione felt the pull on her will, and strengthened her resolve. Finally, the boy stopped. Hermione waited until he let out a snarl and punched the wall before she closed her eyes and ordered the Room of Requirement to let the floor rise again, so that Harry and Ron were standing on level ground.
He almost got me. It's only because I've had more training in the mind arts than Harry's had that I was able to come out on top. In a contest of power, he'd win. If we had started training him at the same time as I started, he would be invincible.
I'm not going to think about why they chose not to do that.
She swallowed, and looked at the ground and then at them. "Now do you understand? I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't thought it was important."
Harry was breathing hard. "Yeah. I see. We don't tell them about what it can do. We just tell them that we found an used classroom."
Hermione shook her head, impatiently pushing back curls that flopped into her face. "Closer to the truth. We asked the house-elves for help and they outfitted a room for us. I warded it, so that the only people who can unlock it are Harry and me, and anyone who tries gets a nasty surprise. That way, people won't come in here in their spare time, and won't question all the great stuff. House-elves are notorious for being overly helpful. And we need to make sure that one of us three are here before every meeting and that we are the last ones to leave. Agreed?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Agreed," said Harry.
Ron nodded. "Agreed." He sighed. "Fred and George would have loved this, though." His face contorted in horror. "Fred and George- they'll know about it because of the Map!"
"Check it," Hermione ordered Harry. "I didn't think it was on there."
It wasn't, thankfully, and they were just putting the Map away when Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean entered.
More and more people trickled in, all exclaiming over the room. Even in her unease, Hermione had to admit that it was magnificent. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that made Hermione think of the fake Moody's office.
Everyone had questions about the room, questions that Harry couldn't quite manage without looking shifty. Instead, Hermione took over, exclaiming with bright eyes and a brighter tone over the generosity of the house elves. "You'd best treat them with respect, now," she said, sweeping a stern eye at the children assembled before her, Harry, and Ron. "They did us a great service at possible danger to themselves." I might be pushing my agenda a bit but really, the house elves do deserve it.
"Now we need to get started, officially," she continued. "It's rather a formality at this point, but we need to elect a leader and choose a name for ourselves."
Harry was rather quickly elected. It was an excellent progression of events in Hermione's opinion, seeing how they automatically chose him as their leader. The name the group selected as a bit combative for Hermione's own taste, but "Dumbledore's Army" wasn't all that bad.
Hermione was also quite proud that Harry had chosen an excellent place to start without her input. The Disarming Charm was rather simple, extremely useful, and easy to learn. She couldn't have chosen better herself- well, she would have chosen a shielding spell, but it was Harry's style to go on the offensive rather than the defensive, and this was his class. She and Ron worked with Neville, and after a moment's consideration Hermione waved Luna over.
"I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to talk since term started," Hermione said in a bright voice to the other girl. "We'll have to find a time to talk, won't we?"
Luna regarded her with a dreamy stare. "You have the time," she said in a tone that matched her face. "But at the same time you don't. I see."
Curious. This girl may have the Sight- or maybe she's just more observant than she looks. I'll have to pay closer attention to this one. "Then maybe this weekend we can meet in the Library and do homework or something," Hermione offered.
Luna smiled. "I'd like that," the younger girl said. "Will Ginny come too?"
"I'll have to see," Hermione hedged. She wanted time to talk to this strange girl alone. "You and me? Do you want to go first?"
"Sure," Luna said, her smile widening. Hermione let her will weaken, allowing Luna to disarm her. It was always slightly painful, the wrenching of her wand from her hand.
But still, Luna had done quite a good job. "Excellent," Hermione said in praise. "My turn!"
The meeting progressed nicely- and Harry's leadership abilities were beginning to show. He had toured the room, making sure every pair got feedback and advice. Well, except for Cho Chang. With more than a small bit of sneaking suspicion, Hermione watched as Harry circled Cho. Had Dumbledore decided to spell him to no longer find the Asian girl attractive?
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when he finally approached her. I think she likes him too. At least, she got so nervous when Harry approached that she set her friend's robes on fire. Oh dear.
The first meeting of Dumbledore's Army adjourned soon after. Harry sent out the students in groups of two or three, using the Marauder's Map. The date for the next meeting was hastily set, and soon everyone were in their Common Rooms.
As Hermione undressed that night, brushing out her hair behind the privacy of her curtains, she considered going to see Severus. It had been such a routine thing, lately, to stop and see him every other night, just to talk or exchange plans or information.
This is ridiculous. I saw him hours ago, there is no way I can miss him. But seeing Professor Snape wasn't the same as seeing Severus, her Severus, the one that revealed painfully aching truths about Lily Potter.
He calls her Lily Evans.
For the last day, every time Hermione had thought of Severus (Severus with his eyes and his lovely hands and his voice that sent shivers through her) the pleasantly happy feelings had turned queasy as soon as she recalled his eyes and his hands and his voice as he spoke about Lily.
She remembered looking over Harry shoulder at a photograph of the Order. Her eyes had been immediately drawn to the woman with the bright red hair, the laughing green eyes. "Your mother was so beautiful, Harry. She looks so happy. She has that, that presence, even in a picture. You can't help but notice how happy she looks. She has the man, the friends, the purpose. From what Sirius and Remus have told us, she was popular- well liked, confident and such. You can tell just by looking at her." Hermione remembered telling Harry that honestly, admiring Lily Potter as she laughed with her husband's arm around her. She remembered thinking that she was nothing like the woman, that she was nothing like Lily Potter with her friends and her loving husband and her beauty. She remembered deciding that she was happy anyway- because she had Severus and Harry and Ron and they would be her James Potter and Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.
And now?
She didn't have Severus Snape- she would never have him. He had given his life- his sanity, his happiness, his service- all for Lily Evan's sake. How could she compare to that? Paragon of Virtue Lily Potter? But Severus hadn't known her as a paragon of virtue, he had known the girl who sounded mean and vindictive and charming to Hermione, and he had loved her anyway.
At least now you know that Severus Snape really is capable of love.
And you know why he left the Death Eaters.
And maybe even why he joined them in the first place.
Points One and Two, the first two things you wanted to know. Are you proud of yourself, Hermione? Are you happy now? How much farther will you go? Do you still want to know all those things? What else are you going to learn and how much is it going to hurt you?
She had no answers for herself. Even as her inner voice took a scathing tone, even as she folded herself into a ball and sobbed into her bed.
"Hermione?" Lavender's tentative voice, high pitched and worried, broke Hermione's tears.
Shit. I forgot the spells. Hermione groped for her wand, shoving her power into a nonverbal Glamour. She kept her hands covering her face, waiting for it to work.
"Is she okay?" Parvati's hushed voice was addressed to Lavender. "Should- should we do something?"
Hermione sat up. "I'm fine," she croaked. "I- I meant to put up spells- I-" The humiliation of it all and the sagging weight of her sadness and anger pulled Hermione back into her tears.
The bed creaked to one side, and a warm arm was around Hermione's shoulders. Lavender was motherly, if twittery sometimes, and she smelled of face potions and the rosewater scent she liked. It was a smell that had been in Hermione's dorm since her first night at Hogwarts- she had never realized it before, but it was as much a scent that reminded her of home as the smell of Severus did. She cried harder, leaning into the girl's comforting embrace.
"It's okay, Hermione," Lavender whispered. "Everything gets better in time."
Parvati sat on Hermione's other side, snaking an arm around her waist. "Everything," she agreed. "What's bothering you?"
Unlike most dorm mates, Hermione and Lavender and Parvati had never really been close- well, Lavender and Parvati were best friends but that intense friendship didn't typically include Hermione. They would stay up late talking while Hermione read, and their snores usually accompanied Hermione out the door of the dorm to see Severus. She had always felt disconnected from them. Her initial shyness she had covered with brass snottiness had distanced the rule-loving girl from the two who adored boys and makeup. And then Hermione's training had started- she had no time for silly girls who didn't care about anything important.
But now here those girls were, arms around her as she cried- real tears this time. Guilt for every time she had lied to them or disparaged them in her head curdled in Hermione's stomach.
"I'm overwhelmed, that's all," Hermione managed. "I- I don't handle stress well and there's a lot of it right now."
She could sense Lavender and Parvati glancing at each other over her head. "Oh?" Lavender asked, inflecting her voice to convey just the barest hint of skepticism. "I thought those sobs sounded like boy problems."
Hermione's lips stretched in a humorless smile. "You could say that," she hedged. She didn't want to lie to them- but neither did she want to admit that she had a major case of unrequited love for their Potions professor.
"I knew it," Lavender said sympathetically. "I thought I hadn't seen a letter from Viktor yet this week."
Viktor- Viktor Krum? Oh- that. When I did get a letter it was in my other room.
Parvati wrinkled her delicate nose in disdain. "Mūrkha. He's not worth crying over, Hermione, international Quidditch star or no."
"Weren't you supposed to visit him over the summer?" Lavender asked. "Or was that just something the papers made up?"
Hermione wiped at her eyes. "No, that was real," she admitted. "He invited me to his summer home, but I couldn't go."
"Why?" questioned Parvati. "He might have thought you weren't interested because you didn't go."
Hermione sighed. "After everything that happened- I had to stay in the country. In hiding, with Harry and Ron."
The faces of both girls lit with realization. "Oh," Lavender breathed. "I'm sorry."
"Me too," Parvati sighed. "Things kind of really suck right now, don't they?"
The other two girls looked at her, and nodded. "Yeah," added Lavender. "How old are we? Fifteen? Well, you're sixteen, Hermione, but still. And there's talk about another war coming and the only thing we can do to learn to defend ourselves is an illegal Defense club taught by another fifteen-year-old kid." There was a worldly weariness in Lavender's voice that surprised Hermione.
"And that kid is our only hope," Hermione said in a tired voice. "Harry Potter. Fifteen. Faced Voldemort on four separate occasions. And he has to do it again, or we're all lost." She shrugged. "At least it's him, if it has to be a fifteen-year-old kid."
Lavender shivered. "I wouldn't want to be Harry."
"Harry doesn't want to be Harry," Hermione said wryly. "But he'll do it, and he'll win."
"I hope so," Parvati said, squeezing Hermione once before pulling away. "He's not so bad. Even if he can't dance at all."
Hermione grinned up at her friend. "I wanted to work on it over the summer but we never had time," she said, giggling. "Remind me to over winter break."
"Will do," Parvati promised. "Goodnight, Hermione. You'll be okay?"
"Yeah," Hermione said. The laughter had pushed back the depressing sadness a bit, made it more bearable. "Yeah. Goodnight."
Lavender crawled out of Hermione's bed, stretching. "See you tomorrow. And if you want to, Hermione, you can borrow my special mint and citrus shampoo tomorrow. It always makes me feel better." The blonde girl ambled off to her bed, pulling the curtains closed with a wave of her hand.
Hermione did the same, enclosing herself in the red and gold velvet. Firmly she pushed the anger and sadness aside. It wouldn't do. She had things to do- reports to read, a busy journalist to check up upon, and reports to write for the next Order meeting.
She started with the journal she used to communicate with Rita Skeeter. The journalist's deliberately messy handwriting irked Hermione- she had warned the Animagus to write neatly before. Going through the latest gossip was not relaxing as much as it was numbing in its mundane nature. Mr. Important was having an affair with Mrs. Pretty, Mr. Jealous was plotting Mr. Successful's downfall, human nature's bad side captured again and again and again from an eavesdropper and a sneak. It was quick work to approve all the little snippets of information and move on to the reports.
There was a stack to read and a stack to write- but writing involved analyzing Death Eater movements and information and that involved thinking about Severus, so Hermione put those off. There was enough to keep her eyes moving left to right until the early hours of the morning- that would do. She would read until she fell asleep.
With a sigh, Hermione grabbed the first on the pile, grimacing at Remus' scrawl. Well, there was a reason she had put this one on the top. The werewolves were starting to regroup and she needed to keep on top of things. She tied back her hair and began to read.
So ends Chapter Twenty.
A bit shorter than usual, but the next chapter will make up for it. ;)
And no preview this time, sorry. There was nothing good I could find that wouldn't give away something major.
If you have the time, could someone please go review To Love, and All It Entails because it has 99 freaking reviews and it has for days and this is driving me crazy.
Please review! Let me know what you thought! Next Chapter will come on... Hmm... Let's see. If I can finish Chapter 24 and get at least half way through 25... you might get a Christmas present. If not, the 27th. Depends on how much time I have. Or I might post on Christmas Day (which would be a Wednesday) instead of the 27th. Let me know what you want. And promise me you'll review even thought it's a holiday.
Good luck to everyone taking finals! Enjoy your winter hols! Recommend me some good SS/HG!