The Vespa touched down on the shoulder of the A40 in the shadow of a large tree. Charlotte turned off the invisibility drive and within seconds was just another driver on the roadway headed into the thriving city of Oxford. She was glad her route did not take her past New College and Queen's Lane, she was certain she would break down completely if she had to see the exact spot where her magical adventure began. It was bad enough to be going back to Sortilege. The last time she had visited Oxford's wizarding college had been for her own graduation. Albus had taken the liberty of inviting the entire faculty to the ceremony, partly because they all wanted to come but mostly because it gave Snape an excuse for his erstwhile master should the question of a Death Eater's attendance at a mudblood's graduation arise. She remembered him standing in the back, a solitary raven – stern, but so proud of her. Charlotte pushed the memories away and parked her scooter outside the Botanical Gardens.
Even in the middle of a chilly, drab autumn, walking into the gardens was like having a little piece of spring in front of you. There was always something in bloom and the air was fresh with growth. Without hesitation she walked directly to the back of the old walled garden, casually looked around and then stepped into the wall.
She entered Sortilege's anteroom and went straight to the young witch sitting at the reception desk. "I'm looking for Hermione Grainger, is she in the building?" The witch consulted a piece of parchment and informed her that Miss Grainger was in the laboratory on the second floor. Charlotte thanked her and proceeded through the massive set of wooden doors opposite the garden entrance. Beyond the dimly lit and claustrophobia-inducing anteroom, Sortilege looked like many of the other colleges or even Hogwarts itself, all old stone and narrow windows. The staircases were at least stationary, and she made it to the lab without incident. It was a huge room filled with rows of ingredients and materials and a solid wall of books at the back. Hermione stood over a simmering cauldron slowly adding a pink liquid to her already vile colored solution. Charlotte was again struck by how much the girl had grown up. Time had lengthened and straightened her hair and it was now piled in a tidy bun at the top of her head. She had grown up – if not for the smattering of freckles across her nose and that look of intense concentration, Charlotte might not have recognized her.
Snape had trained his wife well, and she waited patiently for Hermione to finish her work and look up. At last the girl turned down the flames and noticed her visitor. "Professor!"
Charlotte smiled at the surprise and pleasure in her former pupil's voice and gave Hermione a hug. "Now now, I haven't been your teacher for a while, call me Charlotte?" There was the old Hermione, who wasn't really comfortable with the idea of teachers having first names, let alone using them.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk to you actually, is there somewhere we can go to catch up?"
Hermione took Charlotte to the student common room, a cozy place with overstuffed sofas, study tables and even more books. They made themselves comfortable in front of the fire and Hermione conjured them each a cup of tea.
"How are you enjoying Sortilege?"
"It's wonderful! I'm learning so much, all the students are big bookworms like me, and the teachers know so much-" her enthusiasm was like a runaway freight train and she stopped herself quickly with a grin. "It's great."
"I'm told you're studying to be a potions mistress." Hermione nodded. "I've got a project that's right up your alley."
***
"Where did you get this?" was Hermione's first question after studying the parchment she had been handed.
Charlotte shrugged, "I've been through so many books in the last six months I can't keep them straight. I can owl you the title when I get back to London."
Hermione looked up suddenly, "This is for Professor Snape, isn't it?" Charlotte resisted the desire to snap, "of course it is, who else would it be for?" and simply nodded. "I don't know much beyond the rumors I'm afraid. It might be helpful to know the whole story – specifically his symptoms – to make sure this potion will do what you want it to."
"…It's like he's in some kind of coma. He doesn't speak or move, he's completely retreated into himself."
"Grief is different for everyone." Hermione began uncertainly.
"I know that, but this is too much! It's been six months, I'm not going to let him die of it!"
"What we saw in Godric's Hollow was not pleasant, for Snape especially. I can understand his extreme reaction.
It was Charlotte's turn to be hesitant. "Hermione, what happened that day?"
The girl sighed. "The Headmaster sacrificed himself to save Snape." She conjured a pot of tea and refilled both their cups.
"Severus thought the world of Dumbledore." Charlotte said softly.
"Didn't we all," the younger woman replied with a sad smile. "Apparently Voldemort was not aware of Snape's treachery, he was rather shocked to see his potions expert on the wrong side of the last battle." She allowed herself a small, feral smile before continuing. "Dumbledore attempted to reason with Voldemort, telling him that there was no chance of evil succeeding, but Voldemort was beyond any kind of reasoning at that point. The news of Snape's betrayal enraged him. He had gotten cocky enough to believe that no one would dare turn away from him and what he could offer. He launched himself at Snape, intent on throttling him. Ron, Harry, and Sirius managed to pry his bony hands from Snape's neck before he could cause any lasting damage. Somehow he threw off the three of them and pointed his wand at Snape. Without any preamble, he used the Avada Kedavra." Hermione shuddered. "Everything went into slow motion. Dumbledore stepped into the path of the curse, in front of Snape. Even the headmaster wasn't strong enough to fight off the killing curse. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still see him crumple to the ground. Harry was so angry, he charged at Voldemort with the Gryffindor sword swinging. We'd all been given special dispensation to use the Unforgivables and Ron and I tried to use Crucatius but he dodged them. It was Snape who thought of using the Imperius to make Voldemort stay still long enough for Harry to drive the sword through his heart. Sirius used the killing curse as insurance before we torched the body."
Hermione looked up at Charlotte for the first time since beginning her narrative. "It wasn't particularly glamorous, but then I suppose these things rarely are. We all crouched around Dumbledore's body afterwards, hoping against hope that he'd suddenly open his eyes and offer us a humbug. None of us could look at Snape, although we didn't exactly blame him. Dumbledore made his choice to walk into the curse – it was the sort of thing he did. He always valued our lives and the cause far above his own. Snape said nothing, he just looked rather shocked."
"Probably surprised that anyone would consider him to be worth dying for," Charlotte muttered bitterly. "Certainly there is motivation for his comatose state, but it's not healthy! I'll send him to every therapist in London if I can just have him back!"
Hermione studied the parchment again. "Smarati Zama," she mused, performing a translation spell, "'He remembers peace of mind.' I think this may work."
***
Charlotte started up the Vespa in relatively good spirits. Hermione was confident that she would be able to prepare the Smarati Zama without any difficulty. Charlotte would return to Oxford within the week with any ingredients that Sortilege did not posses and serve as an assistant to the future potions mistress. She unlocked the flat door and was greeted by the sound of wings flapping against a window. Attached to the rather disgruntled tawny's leg was a terse message from Arthur asking her to contact the ministry urgently. A murmured spell and a handful of Floo Powder and Arthur's head was poking into her living room.
"Ah Charlotte, at last."
"What's up Arthur?" she asked the disembodied head.
"There's been another Death Eater attack."
Charlotte paused in the act of feeding the tawny and the owl nipped the treat from her hand impatiently. "Oh, Arthur, this is not good."
"Don't I know it," the minister replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know it's late, but can you go out to the site and help the Aurors out again? You were splendid with the Muggles last time, and I need as many brains on this problem as possible."
Within ten minutes Charlotte had joined Moody and his Aurors at the site. It was another small Muggle settlement, a seemingly random location. At least this time it was night. The victims, another couple – this one much younger – were still spinning lazy circles in the air.
"Finite Incantatum!" growled Moody and the Muggles dropped to the ground, clearly dead. The head Auror was not pleased. "I want answers now!" Once again Charlotte took care of the Muggle spectators who were completely useless. She returned to the house to see the bodies taken away. Only she and two of the more normal looking Aurors remained, finishing up the investigation report. A muffled sniffling suddenly disturbed the quiet of the house. Startled, the three drew their wands. The rest of the house had been given a cursory investigation and it was with caution that they followed the sound to one of the back bedrooms.
"Lumos!" The room was bathed in pale light. The space clearly belonged to a child, a girl judging by the stuffed animals and dolls. They heard the noise again, almost a sob. Against one wall of the room was a large oaken armoire, intricately carved with flowering vines, Charlotte was almost certain it was from in there that the sound came. Flanked by the Aurors she flung the doors open to reveal a young girl balled up on the floor of the wardrobe, she was crying.
Charlotte put her wand away and crouched beside the girl. "Hello there. I'm Charlotte, and this is Bryson and Penny," she indicated the Aurors behind her. "what's your name?"
"Tamara," she girl whispered, wiping her wet cheeks.
"That's a pretty name," Charlotte said soothingly. "Tamara, sweetie, did you see what happened here tonight?"
The girl, who couldn't have been more than five or six, nodded. "Those strange people hurt mum and dad. I was so scared. I hid in here but they found me."
Charlotte and the Aurors exchanged a worried glance. The fact that the girl was still alive after being found by the Death Eaters was highly unusual. "Can you tell us what happened when they saw you?"
"I thought they were going to hurt me too. The man in front stopped the others. Then he pulled back his hood so I could see his face."
"Do you remember what he looked like?"
"Like a ghost! He was all white!" Tamara replied emphatically, but when pressed could not provide any further details.
"Did he say anything to you?
The girl nodded. "He said 'be sure to tell them you saw me, I'm sure they've missed me' and he laughed – he didn't seem like a nice man. They slammed the door and left." Tamara looked up at Charlotte with wide eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"
Charlotte fought off the acrid tang at the back of her throat and the heavy lead weight settling in her stomach. "No, sweetie, you did nothing wrong, you've been a great help"