Harry probably wasn't supposed to overhear the conversation, but Charlie
and Amy were in the living room when he went down to the kitchen to get a
glass of water. The moon shone through the windows, decreasing in size and
thus allowing Lupin to breathe easier. Harry, however, tried to stop
breathing at all when he realized he would interrupt what they were saying
if they discovered he was there.
"She would want you to do this," Charlie was saying, though he sounded slightly choked up as he said it.
"I know." Amy took a deep breath. "But we'd discussed it, we'd planned it. She was going to be my maid of honor. When I saw her dress . . ."
The squeak of the sofa made Harry think Charlie had shifted to comfort her. "Listen, Amy: Tonks would have more of a fit if she came back and heard you'd waited even longer than if she got back and you were already Mrs. Lupin. Please, let yourself believe that. I know it's true."
There was the sound of a nose being blown. "I know," Amy said. "I'm just . . . I'm just worried about her." This came out in a rush as though she could not bear thinking about it.
"So'm I," Charlie admitted. "I've asked for a leave, to go and look for her."
"Is there someone else to watch over the dragon?"
There was a short pause in which Harry supposed Charlie nodded. "Will's taking over for me when term starts. I'm going - I don't really know, but I can't sit here and just do nothing!"
"Charlie." Her voice was soft. "Be careful. And bring both of you safely home."
The floorboards creaked as the pair stood and the kitchen door was no longer outlined with a rectangle of light, though Harry still waited a while before getting his drink and going back to bed.
* * * * *
Harry's head was spinning as he took another drink from his cup of punch. The Weasleys' living room had been transformed into a chapel and was now filled with buffet tables and a dance floor where Professor Lupin was sharing a slow waltz with his new wife. It had all happened so quickly: first Amy was appearing radiant at the end of the "aisle" and then Dumbledore was pronouncing them man and wife.
Taking a look around the room, Harry noted that Ron was sitting in a corner, arms and legs crossed, looking sullen. Hermione was across the room, carefully avoiding the gaze of anyone but Ginny, with whom she was talking.
Earlier that day the doorbell had rung. Amy, in an old sweat suit, no makeup, and her hair in curlers, had flown down the steps to answer it and squealed with joy. "You came!"
"I vood not miss the vedding of my favorite cousin," a gruff voice said, a voice that was all-too-familiar, and Viktor Krum returned the gesture.
Krum was there to give Amy away, he had later told Harry, after Hermione had turned pink and found an excuse to leave and Ron had become unusually quiet. Actually, Krum said to an interested Harry, he had only known about Amy since starting at Durmstrang, as this was a true blood relationship and the Krums and Blacks had no shared blood.
Harry was on the verge of asking if Amy were really a Krum, then, when Dumbledore arrived and everyone flew into little whirlwinds of hair care products and dress robes.
The dance ended and Snape stepped up to dance with Amy while Mrs. Weasley failed at dragging her husband out and accepted Lupin's hand. When Krum tapped Hermione on the shoulder, she blushed before accepting his hand, leaving Ginny standing al alone. Harry went to join her.
She smiled, looking beautiful in green robes that brought out her eyes. "That was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?"
Feeling it impolite to shrug and only semi-agree, he nodded. "Very. Erm - Ginny?"
"Yes?"
"Would you - d'you want to dance?" Suddenly his collar felt rather tight, but he ignored this, not looking her in the eye but over her shoulder and to her right.
Whatever her answer was going to be was suddenly cut off when one of the windows blew open with a bang, letting in gusts of air and flurries of snow. Someone leapt to close it while the others grabbed their wands to relight the candles or stamped on the carpet where some had fallen to the floor. Amy, however, was not moving; she had a tight grip on Snape's shoulder and his face was pale.
"Not tonight," she pleaded. "They can't -"
His finger went to her lips. "Some of them are already here."
Harry cast a wild glance around the room. The music was still playing; Krum and Hermione had laughed it off and started dancing again, while others picked up their conversations where they had left off. Dumbledore was listening intently to Charlie, but his blue eyes swiveled up to the ceiling in a way that made Harry feel both better and worse.
"He's here?" Amy whispered it, but Harry was reading her lips.
"No. He's gone; he was only here long enough to summon us." Snape looked almost as shaken as she was. "You know what they're after."
Her head shook. "It's not here. I know it's not; he left it at school, he told me!"
"But they don't know that." Snape's eyes met Harry's and he gave a little toss of his head, a "come here" sort of gesture. "Dance with Amy; I'll be right back."
Before Harry could protest, the last swirl of the black robe had disappeared around the corner.
Amy hesitated a moment, taking Harry's hand and seeming as though she might start to dance, then changing her mind and beckoning Ginny over. "You two dance. Don't leave this room," she warned, giving Ginny a little shove toward Harry and going to Mr. Weasley, coaxing him to take his wife back from Lupin.
"What's going on?" Ginny asked, looking over Harry's shoulder as the two of them slowly rotated on the spot, not nearly as close as he might have liked, but the situation was a bit too tense.
"I don't know," Harry said back. But I think it involves me. Me, and the Secret Finder at the bottom of my trunk at school.
Amy had her head on her new husband's shoulder and was whispering something in his ear. This, however, was brought to an end as the back door banged open and Snape's voice could be heard. "I told you, it's not here."
"We'll see about that." The mask of a Death Eater appeared before the rest of him, Snape on his heels. In a flash Amy had positioned herself between them and Harry.
"Severus." Her voice held a warning tone.
"You can modify their memories," the Death Eater snapped. Harry looked around wildly for Dumbledore, but the old man was not to bee seen. I don't need a cloak to become invisible. The memory was comforting. "Where is it?"
"It's not here, Aramis." Her voice was hard. "I would have told you if it were. You could have the glory in presenting it to the Dark Lord but I would never hold you back."
"And yet even now you keep up your charade." Aramis took a few slow, measured steps into the room. "Protecting the boy . . ."
"There are some things that cannot be allowed to happen even when the veil is lifted," she said evenly, lifting her chin in defiance. "And, may I remind you, Severus outranks you."
"And you do not," was the quick retort.
"Narcissa has the status of her husband," Snape said silkily, slipping by the Death Eater and going to Amy, putting a protective arm around her waist.
Aramis froze, as did everyone else in the room, not having caught the subtlety in which the Death Eater's conclusion was formed by hint only. "You -"
"Followed his orders? Would you have thought otherwise?" Snape's smile was horribly tinged. "Please, tell him. And that we don't have it."
"He - he didn't expect you to," Aramis said uncertainly, the mask swiveling in order to let him catch a glimpse of Harry. "Just - well. I'll - I'll tell the others, then. You - you can handle -?" He gestured vaguely around the room.
Amy nodded once.
He left.
"Fabulously done." Dumbledore's voice caused Harry to jump as he turned and looked exactly where his eyes had gone before, this time to see the old man standing there, eyes twinkling.
"Amy." Lupin stepped up to take her hand and she gave Snape a smile, her head on Lupin's shoulder.
"I suppose there's the change of a few unexpected guests at every wedding," she said lightly.
Snape nodded once. "I'll make sure they've gone."
The music had never stopped. At Dumbledore's urging, the conversations rose again. Turning back to Ginny, Harry was rewarded with, "I'll take that dance now, if you're still willing."
Smiling, he held out his hand, barely even noticing the way Ron's looked changed from a surly frown to utter shock when he saw them before he took it upon himself to go to bed early.
* * * * *
Harry was still in a bit of a shock as he climbed the stars to go to bed, Fred and George still catcalling and slapping him on the back. Blushing furiously, Ginny slipped into her room, followed by Hermione, who gave him a wink before following.
"Ronnikins!" George called as they got to Ron's room. "Where've you been?"
"You missed the best part!" Fred added, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"It was fantastic!"
"Amazing!"
"Wonderful"
"We're talking about our Magical Mistletoe, of course," Fred clarified. "Just so you don't get a big head."
Harry was too far gone to care. One the Mistletoe had been enchanted, it had decided to hover over his head at random intervals - and Ginny had laughed and first given him a peck on the cheek, then on the lips, and that last time . . . not all kisses were a bad sort of wet, he concluded, trying to hide his grin behind his hand.
"And I'm sure Hermione and Vicky loved you for your little trick." Ron's voice came from a pile of blankets, slightly muffled as it appeared his head was mashed between a pillow and the wall.
"Who's talking about them?"
"Yeah, mate; you're a bit behind on the times!"
Ron sat up, still cocooned in layers of cloth, hair sticking out in every direction and eyes blazing. "I don't care if Ginny just Frenched Harry, lust leave me alone!" He then flopped over again, burrowing deeper into the covers and actually giving way to a moment of stunned silence.
Fred shrugged, patting Harry's cheek. "Ah, well. Just because he got it right doesn't make him a happy boy . . ." He sighed dramatically, looking to his younger brother for a reaction.
Ron didn't move. Silently the other three got ready for bed and turned out the light, though Harry lay there a long time, mind churning with all that had happened that evening before deciding to focus on the positive. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, thinking of Ginny's smile.
* * * * *
The next day might have been a bit awkward had not Harry woken up screaming when it was still dark outside. Next to him Ron awoke, got tangled in his blankets, and was in great danger of falling to the floor, while at their feet the twins grumbled and rolled over, pulling their pillows over their ears.
The door burst open. Snape in his gray nightshirt, wand out, shoved Ron back onto his bed. "What is it, Potter?" he demanded.
Harry was in no condition to answer, much less even wonder if it had been the professor's shift in guarding his door, the way he had gotten there so quickly.
"Weasley, go get Amy," Snape barked.
First looking to see if perhaps the twins were awake, Ron blinked. "Me? Get Amy?" He was obviously thinking, Now? It's still her wedding night . . .
"It's all right, Sev; I'm here." Amy squeezed past him, still knotting the belt of her dressing gown, reaching into her pocket and drawing out a bottle and a spoon, measuring out a dose of brilliant teal syrup and forcing Harry to take it.
His head became suddenly clear, though his chest was still heaving. "They want - they want -" Images of the forest assaulted his mind and he buried his head in his hands. "Make them go away! Make them go away!"
"Make who go away, Harry?" Amy's voice was calm as she managed to kneel in the small space between his bed and Ron's, taking Harry gently by the wrists and forcing his hands away from his face. "Who should go away?"
"Them." His voice was still muffled, this time by his pillow.
"Who?" she asked gently.
His only response was to point to the window.
Amy sucked in a quick breath but Snape was already gone, Disapparating without a sound. "And what did they want, Harry?" she probed gently.
Charlie was suddenly in the doorway. "What is it?"
"Occlumency." Her tone stayed light and soothing, though she looked as though she would dearly love to strange someone.
"When he was asleep?" He looked shocked. "But that's -"
"Dangerous." Amy reached out to put a hand on Harry's forehead, frowning more deeply when she found it cold and clammy. "Possibly permanently damaging." Her face twisted. "And what the hell did they think they were going to gain by it, anyway? What if - what if they - oh, God, Charlie." Reaching up, she quickly brushed angry tears from her face, taking a deep breath and composing herself. "Would you kindly owl Dumbledore and tell him that Remus, Severus, Harry and I will be there before dawn?"
Charlie nodded once, pausing only to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room.
Snape and Professor Lupin Apparated back into the hallway. "We searched the grounds," Lupin said, voice hoarser than usual.
"And?" But Amy seemed to already know the answer.
"Nothing." He swallowed. "I'll go pack our things. You and Severus get Harry there. And Amy -" He knelt quickly, lifting up her chin. "Be careful." A quick kiss and he was out of the room again.
Snape squeezed her shoulder. "I'll get the brooms. Do you know where his cloak is?"
"In - in his trunk. Here." Amy reached across the foot of the bed, over Harry's still feet, rooting through books and robes to find the right one.
"Thanks." Snape quickly kissed her cheek. A moment later they heard him downstairs.
Ron cleared his throat. "Is he . . . going to be all right?"
Amy didn't look at him, grabbing a sweater and starting to pull it over Harry's head. "To be honest with you, Ron . . . I don't know." She finished dressing Harry in silence, with him looking at her one or twice without any hint of recognition on his face. When Snape came back upstairs she moved aside, allowing him to pick Harry up and the three of them went downstairs.
The twins sat up, each having awoken halfway through the events. The three Weasleys shared a look.
"Hermione," Ron said shakily.
"It's too early," Fred said, craning his neck to see out the door and the patches of light thrown on the walls from candles downstairs.
"But -"
"Wait until they're gone," George said, holding up a hand.
Nodding, Ron shut the door and they lay back down, eyes open and ears straining for any more noises in the wintry night.
* * * * *
Hermione looked shell-shocked. "You heard her wrong," she said immediately, shaking her head.
"Shh!" Ron shushed her, looking up the stairs. Not only did his parents not know they were up, but they had managed to get Hermione out of the room without waking Ginny. Fred had decided that himself; he though she didn't need to know until they had as much information as possible.
"What do you mean, we heard wrong?" Fred demanded.
"We were there, we know what we heard," George added, looking slightly put- out.
She took a steadying breath. "All right, all right. You were there, you heard it . . ." Still, she hesitated. "Tell me what Amy said again."
Ron rolled his eyes. "She said it was Occlumency."
"And she gave him . . ."
"Some blue stuff. The sure, I suppose." Ron shrugged.
Hermione shook her head. "There's no real cure for that, for when someone puts you under that spell when you're asleep and completely unguarded."
Fred and George exchanged a glance. "What was that blue stuff for, then?"
"Well . . ."
"Hermione," Ron said warningly.
"All right! Just . . . well . . ." She sighed. "I think it's like a sedative or something, something to calm down his brain. See, the thing is, when Legilimens is performed like that, whoever puts you under the curse has full access to all your memories and every corner of your brain. It's so easy to figuratively cross wires or even delete sections completely, especially if you don't know what you're doing."
"Hay, hey - wait a second." Ron held up a hand. "Figuratively cross wires? Delete sections completely?"
Hermione was looking at her hands. "In the few cases where this has happened, there have been varying results. In one instance, the man was fine."
"One?" Ron looked distinctly ill. Fred shushed him.
"There were also some cases of sever brain damage," Hermione continued, speaking quickly in order to get this over and done with. "And some where whole sections of that person's life were no longer in his memory. Sometimes . . . well, a couple even ended up like Lockhart, memory completely gone."
George took a deep breath. "The blue potion?" he prompted almost hollowly.
"To slow down the action in his brain in case that would cause a chain reaction," she responded promptly. "It's kind of like a sedative that plunges the patient into a state of lethargy where no action takes place: no neurons firing and that kind of thing." She shrugged. "It's about the only thing she could do right now."
"And how long will it take Harry to recover?" Fred asked, squeezing his younger brother's shoulder.
Hermione licked her lips. "A few weeks, minimum."
"And maximum?"
She took a deep breath. "The longest time after which any sort of recovery was eminent was three and a half months."
Ron was stunned to his very core, quickly counting off in his head. "Then - then he might not be . . . be . . ." - he could not say what Harry would be, exactly, but they understood - "until April."
Hermione was unable to do anything but nod.
* * * * *
Dumbledore stood back, knowing that, while this was not exactly in Amy's league, it was definitely out of his. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked kindly as she brushed Harry's hair out of his eyes, removed his glasses, and lay them on the bedside table.
"The Order needs to know," she said hollowly, gratefully accepting the chair he pushed toward her.
"It's not your fault," he said gently.
"Isn't it?" Her eyes flashed dimly, slightly filled with tears. "I was the one who got us away fro Christmas. I was the one who insisted on going to the Burrow and not staying here. I was the one whose turn it was to stand guard last night."
"All things perfectly excusable considering the circumstances," the headmaster assured her, sliding a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"And you would still be blaming yourself, if you'd stood guard," Snape said rather sharply, striding into the room and throwing his cloak across an empty bed.
"But then at least it wouldn't have been you," she argued.
"Listen to me." Dumbledore stood aside to let Snape through. The Potions master took Amy by the shoulders and made her both stand up and look him in the eye. "Our battles are just beginning. You can't admit defeat just when we're starting to fight."
The tears she had been holding back suddenly coursed down her cheeks. Amy threw her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder. "But Sev, it seems so bloody impossible," she chocked out.
"It's not," he said soothingly, gently lifting her chin and making her look at him again. "Especially not for the Healer who was just recently honored for her breakthrough work with Vampires."
She took a shuddery breath. "You know that's different."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Oh, less personal, is it?" A slight smile appeared on his face, as he had elicited a watery laugh. "There you go. You know as well as I: you can't make any mistakes with this. All the damage has already been done. Anything you do will either help, or have no effect; you can't make this worse."
"You only say that because that's the reasoning I gave to you all those years I was working on my last project," she said wryly, wiping off her cheeks.
He shrugged. "It sounded just fine coming from you."
There was a long enough silence that Dumbledore did not feel he would be interrupting. "Do you want me to fetch anything from Hogsmeade for you?"
Mandy took a deep breath, smoothing her hair and looking around the room. "Chocolate frogs, for one. And some supplies . . ." Quickly she rattled off what was needed to make a chock-full cupboard.
Snape smiled wryly. "Headmaster, I think I'd better come with you."
"I just hope you know everything she needs," he said amiably. Had this been under different circumstances, the familiar twinkle would have winked in his eye.
He nodded. "Remus should be here within the hour. We'll be back soon."
Amy nodded back. They were almost to the door when she whirled around. "Wait!"
Snape turned. "Yes?"
She spread her hands. "We need a Christmas tree."
Something so normal for the season seemed completely absurd and a bemused expression found its way onto his face. "Of course. Complete with decorations." Blowing her a kiss, he was gone, the headmaster close behind.
* * * * *
Amy nodded, looking past the ingredients she was measuring to where Snape and Professor Lupin were decorating the tree. "Okay, let's try this again: I missed you."
Lupin rolled his eyes. "Well, if you didn't make this all so hard . . . fine: My dear, it's not been so very long."
She smiled crookedly. "Yes, you probably think it's just a bit of tom foolery."
"Well, that one's obvious," he allowed. "But what am I supposed to think, that You-Know-Who just slithered up your chimney in the guise of a snake?"
"Let's just work on this now, okay?" She set the vial down, frowning slightly at it as she ran through the directions. "I missed you."
"Blah blah blah very long."
Amy laughed. "Blah blah absence makes the heart grow fonder blahdy blah to you, too."
He responded with something absolutely not worth repeating.
She raised an eyebrow. "Care to express yourself a bit more clearly, dear? I don't think I quite know how you feel about him."
In response Lupin picked up a half-finished popcorn string and viciously stabbed another kernel through the middle. "Clear?"
Amy smiled. "I missed you."
"Blah blah blah five minutes?"
Snape rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Married couples . . ."
Amy stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, I suppose it was something about being bowled over by how handsome you look," she said to her husband.
"Thanks." Lupin grinned, straightening his robe.
"Remus."
"Amy." He grinned. "And what's the logic behind that one?"
"Bowled over? Bowler hat?"
"Lime green?" Snape supplied when Lupin still looked blank.
The werewolf crossed his arms. "So you've been snogging Voldemort in the chimney and someone from the Ministry . . . where, in the closet?"
"Not enough room there," Amy said airily, arranging her things on a tray. "Under my desk."
Lupin closed his eyes. "My dear, it's not been so very long."
She smiled, letting him change the subject as she carried the tray to Harry's bedside table. "But when I'm not with you, it's like having lightening without thunder."
His mouth twitched. "We could have used that one last night, huh?" he asked, looking at Harry's scar.
Her mouth moved into a tight lipped smile. "Here's a new one: it's always so dark and dreary when you're gone."
Lupin frowned, spearing some more popcorn. "Dark and dreary?"
Snape leaned around the tree, ice sickles still in hand. "You won't ever need that one."
"Won't I?" She raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, is that?"
He winked. "Because he'll never catch us snogging."
Amy laughed. "Remus, be a dear and toss me some of that popcorn, will you?"
Wondering exactly why he was being asked, her husband did just that.
Snape barely had time to duck around the other side of the three when she flung it at him, laughter filling the small room and making it sound as rooms should on Christmas Eve.
* * * * *
Professor Lupin came into Amy's office, yawning slightly as he found her at her desk and went to massage her shoulders. "Santa's not going to come if you don't go to sleep," he said, only half-joking.
"Mmm." She rubbed a hand across her eyes, shoving aside her book and looking dejectedly at the pile through which she had already looked. "You'd think this had never happened before."
"What, the Occlumency thing?"
"Exactly. I mean, there's not even an official name for it." Amy sighed, leaning back into him and covering his hand with her own. "It's like I'm running blind."
"That's not so different from when you were looking for that vampire cure," he said consolingly, leaning down to put his arms around her and nuzzle her neck.
She rested her head against his. "Yes, but there wasn't so much resting on that. I was allowed to keep the reasons personal, but here . . ."
"Here they aren't allowed to know the personal reasons?"
"Here it has to be public," she corrected. "I hate that. As if the pressure wasn't on already . . ."
Professor Lupin kissed her check and straightened up, drawing her chair back from the desk. "Do you know what you need?" he asked, taking her hands.
"A hug?" she prompted.
He smiled, obliging her. "A cup of hot chocolate, some Christmas cookies, and a warm bed."
"Mmm." She pulled back just enough to look at him. "And do you come with this little deal?"
"I'll see what I can do." Slipping an arm around her waist, he led her up the stairs, though he could not stop her from taking one last look through the open door to where Harry was lying in the moonlight.
* * * * *
Ron gave Hermione and his sister a withering glance. "Guys, it's Christmas."
"So?" Hermione flipped a page in an impossibly large book she had found in his basement.
The look on his face turned more into wondering whether or not he should say the thought that had come into his mind. "Amy's working on it." The "What makes you think you'll find something a trained Healer won't?" went unsaid.
Hermione glanced up in order to shoot a glare at him, though Ginny was being uncharacteristically silent. "So? Sometimes the obvious solutions present themselves to those who have no clue what they're doing."
Deciding it was probably not a good idea to point out that Amy herself was exploring unknown territory, he plopped down on the couch. "But -"
"Do you expect us to just do nothing?" Ginny exploded. "Do you want us to just sit around and twiddle our thumbs, thinking there's absolutely nothing we can do? What if you're wrong about that? What if there's something you could have done, but didn't?"
"He's not going to die," Ron said, slightly taken aback by her outburst.
"Not going to die?" Her eyes were glittering with tears. "Not going to die? Ron, he could lose all his memory, and it's memory that makes us who we really are. Maybe he'll be able to walk and talk and he'll still look like Harry, but he won't actually be Harry, not really."
He took a deep breath and turned to Hermione for support. "But didn't Amy say it might only be some of his memory and not everything?"
Her jaw tightened. "And what would you have him lose? Meeting us? Defeating Voldemort? Voldemort!" she practically shouted when he winced. "What do you want him to forget? Sirius?" Her voice was quieter.
"Well . . . without the memory, it can't exactly be painful, can it?" he suggested meekly.
"Without the memory, he's had no one," Ginny said flatly. "He already has no memory of his parents except their deaths. Without Sirius, who's been there for him?"
"We have," Ron said, reaching out to briefly squeeze his sister's hand. "You know we have."
"Then why shouldn't we be there for him now?" Hermione titled her head, not accusing him, simply asking a question.
"How, by looking up a cure that isn't there? By searching for something that can't be found? Merlin's beard, Hermione; if it's not there, how are you supposed to get it?" he exploded.
She looked at him coldly. "Well, maybe I won't find it. But I know I never will if I never look." Picking up the book, she snapped it shut and left, most likely to retreat to the privacy of Ginny's room.
Ron and his sister sat there for ten long seconds of silence. "I'm sorry," he said at last.
She managed a small smile. "So am I."
* * * * *
A light tapping on her door made Amy look up. "Thought I might be of service," Snape said.
"If you are, I'll love you forever," she said, smiling gratefully.
"Nothing like a bit of incentive," he observed, eyebrow raised.
"I try. Sit." She shoved some of her papers aside and patted her desk.
In a move that most people would have a hard time believing, Snape hitched up his robes and sat on her desk, putting a thin, old book where they could both see it if they turned their heads slightly. "See, in this case . . ."
Her eyes skimmed the text as she leaned closer to him, resting her head slightly on his arm. "You're joking."
"I only wish."
"But Sev, where did you get this?" Instead of reaching for it, as if touching the pages would burn her, Amy merely pulled back to look at him.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. "It was confiscated years ago from the home of a Dark family."
Her mouth tightened. "I know that. But how did you get it?"
He blinked. "You knew?"
Amy pointed to a scrawled note in the corner. "That's Mum's handwriting. My first adopted one. I'd know it anywhere."
He took a deep breath. "You don't trust it, then?"
"Well . . . it's not that she wasn't a Dark witch. She was; but . . . well, I'm not sure what of hers I can trust and what I can't. I know for a fact that some of it's true, and not even bad, depending on how it's used, but this . . ." She gestured to the water stained pages. "I just don't know."
"Chances are we can't even make it," he observed, paging through the rest of the recipe. "Look at all of this . . . six weeks, minimum, if he hit the right phase of the moon."
She snorted softly. "I know those like the back of my hand."
He nodded, leaning back on his hands and looking pensive, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "I have my classes, but that leaves . . . I could spare evenings and leave weekends for grading . . ."
"I can forge your signature," she pointed out. "So it'll be no trick to mimic your biting wit."
"You want to help me grade papers?"
"Hmm, let me think." Amy leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Unlike Durmstrang, there aren't daily duels in the corridors and body parts to reattach. Unlike Durmstrang, people aren't generally rushed into the hospital wing because of dueling in their Dark Arts classes. And, again until Durmstrang, we don't generally have people getting hypothermia because of polar bear diving, pranks, or slipping off and iceberg. It's not like I have that much to do."
"Slipping off an iceberg? That happens often?"
She rolled her eyes. "Sev, Durmstrang doesn't generally check for street smarts."
"They check for book smarts?"
She was stopped from smacking him when Professor Lupin came into the room. "Am I . . . interrupting something?" he raised an eyebrow.
"She's missed you," Snape said.
He blinked.
"Yes, she was saying how dark and dreary it was when you were gone . . ."
"Please can I hit him?" Amy whined.
Remus shrugged. "What was stopping you?"
Snape gave a yelp of protest and quickly slid off the desk and out the door. Professor Lupin laughed, going over to kiss Amy on the forehead. "What was that about?" he asked.
"Nothing," Amy said, forcing herself to supply the answer none too quickly as she stood, unobtrusively spilling a few papers over the book Snape had just brought in and collecting it between them when she straightened things up. "He had nothing better to do."
"Wish I had that excuse," he muttered, halfway between sweet and sour. "Ames, I'll be upstairs."
"I'll be along shortly, soon as I fix this mess," she assured him, opening a drawer and beginning to organize her papers, waiting until the door had closed before pulling the book out again and looking at it.
Unknown emotions swirled in her eyes as she gently ran her fingers over the shiny red lettering on the black velvet cover. For all the inside was old and worn, the outside might as well have been made only yesterday. A slight shudder passed through her.
Chances are we can't even make it. Snape's words, meant to be reassuring, were also a sort of challenge, one to which she already felt herself rising. They could do it; she knew they could. If one person could do it, why not her and Sev, both of them modestly brilliant?
As if it might put off making a decision, Amy quickly shoved the book under a couple of inkpots in the bottom drawer and locked it, glancing out into the hospital wing one last time before heading upstairs.
* * * * *
Snape frowned. "Every time I open this book you cringe like you think something's going to jump out of it."
Amy shrugged, avoiding his glance. "It's nothing. Come on, we should try to get this part done before everyone comes back tomorrow."
He was not pacified. "Amy. Something's wrong and you won't tell me what it is."
"Because it's nothing. Just stress." She looked up from the roots she was carefully dicing and flashed him a smile. "You'd think I would've learned to handle it by now."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "You have learned to handle it by now."
Another non-committal shrug lifted her shoulders.
"Ames." He reached across the table to still her hands. "Look at me?"
Slowly she raised her eyes.
"Tell me what's wrong."
For a moment she didn't move. Finally she looked away, running a hand through her hair and sitting back in her chair. "You don't know who wrote that book."
"No . . ."
"And old family friend. Very old friend." A smile that might have been nostalgic was tainted by a half grimace. "He's the reason I was given no resistance in wanting to be a Healer."
"An old Black family friend wrote this. I'm assuming she was a Healer, then?" Snape lifted the book, pages rustling slightly.
"He," Amy corrected. "And he might have been, in another life, but something happened and . . . he had a different career."
She paused, though he knew better than to urge her on while she was collecting her thoughts.
"He used to visit," she continued. "Often. Only when I was very young, he stopped soon after I got out of school and started at St. Mungo's. Of course, he favored Bella." Amy cocked her head, eyes unfocused as if seeing it all happen again. "He loved her, loved her dearly, or at least adored her enough to make it seem like that. Most don't think him capable of love. I'm not sure.
"From the beginning he had a problem with Rodolphus. You know he lost her. Later -" she laughed without feeling - "Lucius said it was the family curse: whenever anyone wanted a daughter, someone else got there first."
"I don't understand where you're going with this," Snape said quietly when she had been silent a moment.
Amy winced. "I never told you. He knows my name, he's known me since I was a little girl. That's why he trusts you, Sev; because I do."
"Who?"
She shook her head. "Bella was his favorite. Still is, actually, but he can't get rid of Rodolphus; the irony is he actually needs him." When he was still not getting it, she continued, "Sev, he trained Bella himself!"
Snape shook his head, looking pensive. "Sorry, Ames; you've the brains, remember? I'm just the looks."
She would not be deterred. "Why did you think Dumbledore made you teach me Occlumency?"
"So no one could read your mind against your will."
"No, so a specific someone could stop reading my mind against my will. Tom Riddle, Sev; I've known him practically since I was born. Tom Riddle wrote that book." She gestured to it savagely.
"Riddle?" Snape had frozen. "You've - he - but he's -"
"An old Black family friend," she said, irritated.
Snape swallowed. "He wanted to be a Healer?"
She shrugged. "In a way. Mudbloods and Mugglelovers would have been allowed to die under his care. He wanted a St. Mungo's that weeded out the weak and inept. That was his dream, his launching point: to rid our world of them through instances that could be document as incurable cases or harsh allergic reactions or any number of things."
It finally seemed to hit him. "You became a Healer because of Voldemort."
A wry smile crept horribly onto her face. "We don't talk much, but he has wondered why you've seemed so clueless."
He shook his head. "That's a hell of a way to choose a career."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Better than having no career and being Regulus' housewife, don't you think?"
There was no argument for that, so he simply turned back to the book and let her get on with chopping her roots.
"She would want you to do this," Charlie was saying, though he sounded slightly choked up as he said it.
"I know." Amy took a deep breath. "But we'd discussed it, we'd planned it. She was going to be my maid of honor. When I saw her dress . . ."
The squeak of the sofa made Harry think Charlie had shifted to comfort her. "Listen, Amy: Tonks would have more of a fit if she came back and heard you'd waited even longer than if she got back and you were already Mrs. Lupin. Please, let yourself believe that. I know it's true."
There was the sound of a nose being blown. "I know," Amy said. "I'm just . . . I'm just worried about her." This came out in a rush as though she could not bear thinking about it.
"So'm I," Charlie admitted. "I've asked for a leave, to go and look for her."
"Is there someone else to watch over the dragon?"
There was a short pause in which Harry supposed Charlie nodded. "Will's taking over for me when term starts. I'm going - I don't really know, but I can't sit here and just do nothing!"
"Charlie." Her voice was soft. "Be careful. And bring both of you safely home."
The floorboards creaked as the pair stood and the kitchen door was no longer outlined with a rectangle of light, though Harry still waited a while before getting his drink and going back to bed.
* * * * *
Harry's head was spinning as he took another drink from his cup of punch. The Weasleys' living room had been transformed into a chapel and was now filled with buffet tables and a dance floor where Professor Lupin was sharing a slow waltz with his new wife. It had all happened so quickly: first Amy was appearing radiant at the end of the "aisle" and then Dumbledore was pronouncing them man and wife.
Taking a look around the room, Harry noted that Ron was sitting in a corner, arms and legs crossed, looking sullen. Hermione was across the room, carefully avoiding the gaze of anyone but Ginny, with whom she was talking.
Earlier that day the doorbell had rung. Amy, in an old sweat suit, no makeup, and her hair in curlers, had flown down the steps to answer it and squealed with joy. "You came!"
"I vood not miss the vedding of my favorite cousin," a gruff voice said, a voice that was all-too-familiar, and Viktor Krum returned the gesture.
Krum was there to give Amy away, he had later told Harry, after Hermione had turned pink and found an excuse to leave and Ron had become unusually quiet. Actually, Krum said to an interested Harry, he had only known about Amy since starting at Durmstrang, as this was a true blood relationship and the Krums and Blacks had no shared blood.
Harry was on the verge of asking if Amy were really a Krum, then, when Dumbledore arrived and everyone flew into little whirlwinds of hair care products and dress robes.
The dance ended and Snape stepped up to dance with Amy while Mrs. Weasley failed at dragging her husband out and accepted Lupin's hand. When Krum tapped Hermione on the shoulder, she blushed before accepting his hand, leaving Ginny standing al alone. Harry went to join her.
She smiled, looking beautiful in green robes that brought out her eyes. "That was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?"
Feeling it impolite to shrug and only semi-agree, he nodded. "Very. Erm - Ginny?"
"Yes?"
"Would you - d'you want to dance?" Suddenly his collar felt rather tight, but he ignored this, not looking her in the eye but over her shoulder and to her right.
Whatever her answer was going to be was suddenly cut off when one of the windows blew open with a bang, letting in gusts of air and flurries of snow. Someone leapt to close it while the others grabbed their wands to relight the candles or stamped on the carpet where some had fallen to the floor. Amy, however, was not moving; she had a tight grip on Snape's shoulder and his face was pale.
"Not tonight," she pleaded. "They can't -"
His finger went to her lips. "Some of them are already here."
Harry cast a wild glance around the room. The music was still playing; Krum and Hermione had laughed it off and started dancing again, while others picked up their conversations where they had left off. Dumbledore was listening intently to Charlie, but his blue eyes swiveled up to the ceiling in a way that made Harry feel both better and worse.
"He's here?" Amy whispered it, but Harry was reading her lips.
"No. He's gone; he was only here long enough to summon us." Snape looked almost as shaken as she was. "You know what they're after."
Her head shook. "It's not here. I know it's not; he left it at school, he told me!"
"But they don't know that." Snape's eyes met Harry's and he gave a little toss of his head, a "come here" sort of gesture. "Dance with Amy; I'll be right back."
Before Harry could protest, the last swirl of the black robe had disappeared around the corner.
Amy hesitated a moment, taking Harry's hand and seeming as though she might start to dance, then changing her mind and beckoning Ginny over. "You two dance. Don't leave this room," she warned, giving Ginny a little shove toward Harry and going to Mr. Weasley, coaxing him to take his wife back from Lupin.
"What's going on?" Ginny asked, looking over Harry's shoulder as the two of them slowly rotated on the spot, not nearly as close as he might have liked, but the situation was a bit too tense.
"I don't know," Harry said back. But I think it involves me. Me, and the Secret Finder at the bottom of my trunk at school.
Amy had her head on her new husband's shoulder and was whispering something in his ear. This, however, was brought to an end as the back door banged open and Snape's voice could be heard. "I told you, it's not here."
"We'll see about that." The mask of a Death Eater appeared before the rest of him, Snape on his heels. In a flash Amy had positioned herself between them and Harry.
"Severus." Her voice held a warning tone.
"You can modify their memories," the Death Eater snapped. Harry looked around wildly for Dumbledore, but the old man was not to bee seen. I don't need a cloak to become invisible. The memory was comforting. "Where is it?"
"It's not here, Aramis." Her voice was hard. "I would have told you if it were. You could have the glory in presenting it to the Dark Lord but I would never hold you back."
"And yet even now you keep up your charade." Aramis took a few slow, measured steps into the room. "Protecting the boy . . ."
"There are some things that cannot be allowed to happen even when the veil is lifted," she said evenly, lifting her chin in defiance. "And, may I remind you, Severus outranks you."
"And you do not," was the quick retort.
"Narcissa has the status of her husband," Snape said silkily, slipping by the Death Eater and going to Amy, putting a protective arm around her waist.
Aramis froze, as did everyone else in the room, not having caught the subtlety in which the Death Eater's conclusion was formed by hint only. "You -"
"Followed his orders? Would you have thought otherwise?" Snape's smile was horribly tinged. "Please, tell him. And that we don't have it."
"He - he didn't expect you to," Aramis said uncertainly, the mask swiveling in order to let him catch a glimpse of Harry. "Just - well. I'll - I'll tell the others, then. You - you can handle -?" He gestured vaguely around the room.
Amy nodded once.
He left.
"Fabulously done." Dumbledore's voice caused Harry to jump as he turned and looked exactly where his eyes had gone before, this time to see the old man standing there, eyes twinkling.
"Amy." Lupin stepped up to take her hand and she gave Snape a smile, her head on Lupin's shoulder.
"I suppose there's the change of a few unexpected guests at every wedding," she said lightly.
Snape nodded once. "I'll make sure they've gone."
The music had never stopped. At Dumbledore's urging, the conversations rose again. Turning back to Ginny, Harry was rewarded with, "I'll take that dance now, if you're still willing."
Smiling, he held out his hand, barely even noticing the way Ron's looked changed from a surly frown to utter shock when he saw them before he took it upon himself to go to bed early.
* * * * *
Harry was still in a bit of a shock as he climbed the stars to go to bed, Fred and George still catcalling and slapping him on the back. Blushing furiously, Ginny slipped into her room, followed by Hermione, who gave him a wink before following.
"Ronnikins!" George called as they got to Ron's room. "Where've you been?"
"You missed the best part!" Fred added, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"It was fantastic!"
"Amazing!"
"Wonderful"
"We're talking about our Magical Mistletoe, of course," Fred clarified. "Just so you don't get a big head."
Harry was too far gone to care. One the Mistletoe had been enchanted, it had decided to hover over his head at random intervals - and Ginny had laughed and first given him a peck on the cheek, then on the lips, and that last time . . . not all kisses were a bad sort of wet, he concluded, trying to hide his grin behind his hand.
"And I'm sure Hermione and Vicky loved you for your little trick." Ron's voice came from a pile of blankets, slightly muffled as it appeared his head was mashed between a pillow and the wall.
"Who's talking about them?"
"Yeah, mate; you're a bit behind on the times!"
Ron sat up, still cocooned in layers of cloth, hair sticking out in every direction and eyes blazing. "I don't care if Ginny just Frenched Harry, lust leave me alone!" He then flopped over again, burrowing deeper into the covers and actually giving way to a moment of stunned silence.
Fred shrugged, patting Harry's cheek. "Ah, well. Just because he got it right doesn't make him a happy boy . . ." He sighed dramatically, looking to his younger brother for a reaction.
Ron didn't move. Silently the other three got ready for bed and turned out the light, though Harry lay there a long time, mind churning with all that had happened that evening before deciding to focus on the positive. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, thinking of Ginny's smile.
* * * * *
The next day might have been a bit awkward had not Harry woken up screaming when it was still dark outside. Next to him Ron awoke, got tangled in his blankets, and was in great danger of falling to the floor, while at their feet the twins grumbled and rolled over, pulling their pillows over their ears.
The door burst open. Snape in his gray nightshirt, wand out, shoved Ron back onto his bed. "What is it, Potter?" he demanded.
Harry was in no condition to answer, much less even wonder if it had been the professor's shift in guarding his door, the way he had gotten there so quickly.
"Weasley, go get Amy," Snape barked.
First looking to see if perhaps the twins were awake, Ron blinked. "Me? Get Amy?" He was obviously thinking, Now? It's still her wedding night . . .
"It's all right, Sev; I'm here." Amy squeezed past him, still knotting the belt of her dressing gown, reaching into her pocket and drawing out a bottle and a spoon, measuring out a dose of brilliant teal syrup and forcing Harry to take it.
His head became suddenly clear, though his chest was still heaving. "They want - they want -" Images of the forest assaulted his mind and he buried his head in his hands. "Make them go away! Make them go away!"
"Make who go away, Harry?" Amy's voice was calm as she managed to kneel in the small space between his bed and Ron's, taking Harry gently by the wrists and forcing his hands away from his face. "Who should go away?"
"Them." His voice was still muffled, this time by his pillow.
"Who?" she asked gently.
His only response was to point to the window.
Amy sucked in a quick breath but Snape was already gone, Disapparating without a sound. "And what did they want, Harry?" she probed gently.
Charlie was suddenly in the doorway. "What is it?"
"Occlumency." Her tone stayed light and soothing, though she looked as though she would dearly love to strange someone.
"When he was asleep?" He looked shocked. "But that's -"
"Dangerous." Amy reached out to put a hand on Harry's forehead, frowning more deeply when she found it cold and clammy. "Possibly permanently damaging." Her face twisted. "And what the hell did they think they were going to gain by it, anyway? What if - what if they - oh, God, Charlie." Reaching up, she quickly brushed angry tears from her face, taking a deep breath and composing herself. "Would you kindly owl Dumbledore and tell him that Remus, Severus, Harry and I will be there before dawn?"
Charlie nodded once, pausing only to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room.
Snape and Professor Lupin Apparated back into the hallway. "We searched the grounds," Lupin said, voice hoarser than usual.
"And?" But Amy seemed to already know the answer.
"Nothing." He swallowed. "I'll go pack our things. You and Severus get Harry there. And Amy -" He knelt quickly, lifting up her chin. "Be careful." A quick kiss and he was out of the room again.
Snape squeezed her shoulder. "I'll get the brooms. Do you know where his cloak is?"
"In - in his trunk. Here." Amy reached across the foot of the bed, over Harry's still feet, rooting through books and robes to find the right one.
"Thanks." Snape quickly kissed her cheek. A moment later they heard him downstairs.
Ron cleared his throat. "Is he . . . going to be all right?"
Amy didn't look at him, grabbing a sweater and starting to pull it over Harry's head. "To be honest with you, Ron . . . I don't know." She finished dressing Harry in silence, with him looking at her one or twice without any hint of recognition on his face. When Snape came back upstairs she moved aside, allowing him to pick Harry up and the three of them went downstairs.
The twins sat up, each having awoken halfway through the events. The three Weasleys shared a look.
"Hermione," Ron said shakily.
"It's too early," Fred said, craning his neck to see out the door and the patches of light thrown on the walls from candles downstairs.
"But -"
"Wait until they're gone," George said, holding up a hand.
Nodding, Ron shut the door and they lay back down, eyes open and ears straining for any more noises in the wintry night.
* * * * *
Hermione looked shell-shocked. "You heard her wrong," she said immediately, shaking her head.
"Shh!" Ron shushed her, looking up the stairs. Not only did his parents not know they were up, but they had managed to get Hermione out of the room without waking Ginny. Fred had decided that himself; he though she didn't need to know until they had as much information as possible.
"What do you mean, we heard wrong?" Fred demanded.
"We were there, we know what we heard," George added, looking slightly put- out.
She took a steadying breath. "All right, all right. You were there, you heard it . . ." Still, she hesitated. "Tell me what Amy said again."
Ron rolled his eyes. "She said it was Occlumency."
"And she gave him . . ."
"Some blue stuff. The sure, I suppose." Ron shrugged.
Hermione shook her head. "There's no real cure for that, for when someone puts you under that spell when you're asleep and completely unguarded."
Fred and George exchanged a glance. "What was that blue stuff for, then?"
"Well . . ."
"Hermione," Ron said warningly.
"All right! Just . . . well . . ." She sighed. "I think it's like a sedative or something, something to calm down his brain. See, the thing is, when Legilimens is performed like that, whoever puts you under the curse has full access to all your memories and every corner of your brain. It's so easy to figuratively cross wires or even delete sections completely, especially if you don't know what you're doing."
"Hay, hey - wait a second." Ron held up a hand. "Figuratively cross wires? Delete sections completely?"
Hermione was looking at her hands. "In the few cases where this has happened, there have been varying results. In one instance, the man was fine."
"One?" Ron looked distinctly ill. Fred shushed him.
"There were also some cases of sever brain damage," Hermione continued, speaking quickly in order to get this over and done with. "And some where whole sections of that person's life were no longer in his memory. Sometimes . . . well, a couple even ended up like Lockhart, memory completely gone."
George took a deep breath. "The blue potion?" he prompted almost hollowly.
"To slow down the action in his brain in case that would cause a chain reaction," she responded promptly. "It's kind of like a sedative that plunges the patient into a state of lethargy where no action takes place: no neurons firing and that kind of thing." She shrugged. "It's about the only thing she could do right now."
"And how long will it take Harry to recover?" Fred asked, squeezing his younger brother's shoulder.
Hermione licked her lips. "A few weeks, minimum."
"And maximum?"
She took a deep breath. "The longest time after which any sort of recovery was eminent was three and a half months."
Ron was stunned to his very core, quickly counting off in his head. "Then - then he might not be . . . be . . ." - he could not say what Harry would be, exactly, but they understood - "until April."
Hermione was unable to do anything but nod.
* * * * *
Dumbledore stood back, knowing that, while this was not exactly in Amy's league, it was definitely out of his. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked kindly as she brushed Harry's hair out of his eyes, removed his glasses, and lay them on the bedside table.
"The Order needs to know," she said hollowly, gratefully accepting the chair he pushed toward her.
"It's not your fault," he said gently.
"Isn't it?" Her eyes flashed dimly, slightly filled with tears. "I was the one who got us away fro Christmas. I was the one who insisted on going to the Burrow and not staying here. I was the one whose turn it was to stand guard last night."
"All things perfectly excusable considering the circumstances," the headmaster assured her, sliding a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"And you would still be blaming yourself, if you'd stood guard," Snape said rather sharply, striding into the room and throwing his cloak across an empty bed.
"But then at least it wouldn't have been you," she argued.
"Listen to me." Dumbledore stood aside to let Snape through. The Potions master took Amy by the shoulders and made her both stand up and look him in the eye. "Our battles are just beginning. You can't admit defeat just when we're starting to fight."
The tears she had been holding back suddenly coursed down her cheeks. Amy threw her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder. "But Sev, it seems so bloody impossible," she chocked out.
"It's not," he said soothingly, gently lifting her chin and making her look at him again. "Especially not for the Healer who was just recently honored for her breakthrough work with Vampires."
She took a shuddery breath. "You know that's different."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Oh, less personal, is it?" A slight smile appeared on his face, as he had elicited a watery laugh. "There you go. You know as well as I: you can't make any mistakes with this. All the damage has already been done. Anything you do will either help, or have no effect; you can't make this worse."
"You only say that because that's the reasoning I gave to you all those years I was working on my last project," she said wryly, wiping off her cheeks.
He shrugged. "It sounded just fine coming from you."
There was a long enough silence that Dumbledore did not feel he would be interrupting. "Do you want me to fetch anything from Hogsmeade for you?"
Mandy took a deep breath, smoothing her hair and looking around the room. "Chocolate frogs, for one. And some supplies . . ." Quickly she rattled off what was needed to make a chock-full cupboard.
Snape smiled wryly. "Headmaster, I think I'd better come with you."
"I just hope you know everything she needs," he said amiably. Had this been under different circumstances, the familiar twinkle would have winked in his eye.
He nodded. "Remus should be here within the hour. We'll be back soon."
Amy nodded back. They were almost to the door when she whirled around. "Wait!"
Snape turned. "Yes?"
She spread her hands. "We need a Christmas tree."
Something so normal for the season seemed completely absurd and a bemused expression found its way onto his face. "Of course. Complete with decorations." Blowing her a kiss, he was gone, the headmaster close behind.
* * * * *
Amy nodded, looking past the ingredients she was measuring to where Snape and Professor Lupin were decorating the tree. "Okay, let's try this again: I missed you."
Lupin rolled his eyes. "Well, if you didn't make this all so hard . . . fine: My dear, it's not been so very long."
She smiled crookedly. "Yes, you probably think it's just a bit of tom foolery."
"Well, that one's obvious," he allowed. "But what am I supposed to think, that You-Know-Who just slithered up your chimney in the guise of a snake?"
"Let's just work on this now, okay?" She set the vial down, frowning slightly at it as she ran through the directions. "I missed you."
"Blah blah blah very long."
Amy laughed. "Blah blah absence makes the heart grow fonder blahdy blah to you, too."
He responded with something absolutely not worth repeating.
She raised an eyebrow. "Care to express yourself a bit more clearly, dear? I don't think I quite know how you feel about him."
In response Lupin picked up a half-finished popcorn string and viciously stabbed another kernel through the middle. "Clear?"
Amy smiled. "I missed you."
"Blah blah blah five minutes?"
Snape rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Married couples . . ."
Amy stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, I suppose it was something about being bowled over by how handsome you look," she said to her husband.
"Thanks." Lupin grinned, straightening his robe.
"Remus."
"Amy." He grinned. "And what's the logic behind that one?"
"Bowled over? Bowler hat?"
"Lime green?" Snape supplied when Lupin still looked blank.
The werewolf crossed his arms. "So you've been snogging Voldemort in the chimney and someone from the Ministry . . . where, in the closet?"
"Not enough room there," Amy said airily, arranging her things on a tray. "Under my desk."
Lupin closed his eyes. "My dear, it's not been so very long."
She smiled, letting him change the subject as she carried the tray to Harry's bedside table. "But when I'm not with you, it's like having lightening without thunder."
His mouth twitched. "We could have used that one last night, huh?" he asked, looking at Harry's scar.
Her mouth moved into a tight lipped smile. "Here's a new one: it's always so dark and dreary when you're gone."
Lupin frowned, spearing some more popcorn. "Dark and dreary?"
Snape leaned around the tree, ice sickles still in hand. "You won't ever need that one."
"Won't I?" She raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, is that?"
He winked. "Because he'll never catch us snogging."
Amy laughed. "Remus, be a dear and toss me some of that popcorn, will you?"
Wondering exactly why he was being asked, her husband did just that.
Snape barely had time to duck around the other side of the three when she flung it at him, laughter filling the small room and making it sound as rooms should on Christmas Eve.
* * * * *
Professor Lupin came into Amy's office, yawning slightly as he found her at her desk and went to massage her shoulders. "Santa's not going to come if you don't go to sleep," he said, only half-joking.
"Mmm." She rubbed a hand across her eyes, shoving aside her book and looking dejectedly at the pile through which she had already looked. "You'd think this had never happened before."
"What, the Occlumency thing?"
"Exactly. I mean, there's not even an official name for it." Amy sighed, leaning back into him and covering his hand with her own. "It's like I'm running blind."
"That's not so different from when you were looking for that vampire cure," he said consolingly, leaning down to put his arms around her and nuzzle her neck.
She rested her head against his. "Yes, but there wasn't so much resting on that. I was allowed to keep the reasons personal, but here . . ."
"Here they aren't allowed to know the personal reasons?"
"Here it has to be public," she corrected. "I hate that. As if the pressure wasn't on already . . ."
Professor Lupin kissed her check and straightened up, drawing her chair back from the desk. "Do you know what you need?" he asked, taking her hands.
"A hug?" she prompted.
He smiled, obliging her. "A cup of hot chocolate, some Christmas cookies, and a warm bed."
"Mmm." She pulled back just enough to look at him. "And do you come with this little deal?"
"I'll see what I can do." Slipping an arm around her waist, he led her up the stairs, though he could not stop her from taking one last look through the open door to where Harry was lying in the moonlight.
* * * * *
Ron gave Hermione and his sister a withering glance. "Guys, it's Christmas."
"So?" Hermione flipped a page in an impossibly large book she had found in his basement.
The look on his face turned more into wondering whether or not he should say the thought that had come into his mind. "Amy's working on it." The "What makes you think you'll find something a trained Healer won't?" went unsaid.
Hermione glanced up in order to shoot a glare at him, though Ginny was being uncharacteristically silent. "So? Sometimes the obvious solutions present themselves to those who have no clue what they're doing."
Deciding it was probably not a good idea to point out that Amy herself was exploring unknown territory, he plopped down on the couch. "But -"
"Do you expect us to just do nothing?" Ginny exploded. "Do you want us to just sit around and twiddle our thumbs, thinking there's absolutely nothing we can do? What if you're wrong about that? What if there's something you could have done, but didn't?"
"He's not going to die," Ron said, slightly taken aback by her outburst.
"Not going to die?" Her eyes were glittering with tears. "Not going to die? Ron, he could lose all his memory, and it's memory that makes us who we really are. Maybe he'll be able to walk and talk and he'll still look like Harry, but he won't actually be Harry, not really."
He took a deep breath and turned to Hermione for support. "But didn't Amy say it might only be some of his memory and not everything?"
Her jaw tightened. "And what would you have him lose? Meeting us? Defeating Voldemort? Voldemort!" she practically shouted when he winced. "What do you want him to forget? Sirius?" Her voice was quieter.
"Well . . . without the memory, it can't exactly be painful, can it?" he suggested meekly.
"Without the memory, he's had no one," Ginny said flatly. "He already has no memory of his parents except their deaths. Without Sirius, who's been there for him?"
"We have," Ron said, reaching out to briefly squeeze his sister's hand. "You know we have."
"Then why shouldn't we be there for him now?" Hermione titled her head, not accusing him, simply asking a question.
"How, by looking up a cure that isn't there? By searching for something that can't be found? Merlin's beard, Hermione; if it's not there, how are you supposed to get it?" he exploded.
She looked at him coldly. "Well, maybe I won't find it. But I know I never will if I never look." Picking up the book, she snapped it shut and left, most likely to retreat to the privacy of Ginny's room.
Ron and his sister sat there for ten long seconds of silence. "I'm sorry," he said at last.
She managed a small smile. "So am I."
* * * * *
A light tapping on her door made Amy look up. "Thought I might be of service," Snape said.
"If you are, I'll love you forever," she said, smiling gratefully.
"Nothing like a bit of incentive," he observed, eyebrow raised.
"I try. Sit." She shoved some of her papers aside and patted her desk.
In a move that most people would have a hard time believing, Snape hitched up his robes and sat on her desk, putting a thin, old book where they could both see it if they turned their heads slightly. "See, in this case . . ."
Her eyes skimmed the text as she leaned closer to him, resting her head slightly on his arm. "You're joking."
"I only wish."
"But Sev, where did you get this?" Instead of reaching for it, as if touching the pages would burn her, Amy merely pulled back to look at him.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. "It was confiscated years ago from the home of a Dark family."
Her mouth tightened. "I know that. But how did you get it?"
He blinked. "You knew?"
Amy pointed to a scrawled note in the corner. "That's Mum's handwriting. My first adopted one. I'd know it anywhere."
He took a deep breath. "You don't trust it, then?"
"Well . . . it's not that she wasn't a Dark witch. She was; but . . . well, I'm not sure what of hers I can trust and what I can't. I know for a fact that some of it's true, and not even bad, depending on how it's used, but this . . ." She gestured to the water stained pages. "I just don't know."
"Chances are we can't even make it," he observed, paging through the rest of the recipe. "Look at all of this . . . six weeks, minimum, if he hit the right phase of the moon."
She snorted softly. "I know those like the back of my hand."
He nodded, leaning back on his hands and looking pensive, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "I have my classes, but that leaves . . . I could spare evenings and leave weekends for grading . . ."
"I can forge your signature," she pointed out. "So it'll be no trick to mimic your biting wit."
"You want to help me grade papers?"
"Hmm, let me think." Amy leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Unlike Durmstrang, there aren't daily duels in the corridors and body parts to reattach. Unlike Durmstrang, people aren't generally rushed into the hospital wing because of dueling in their Dark Arts classes. And, again until Durmstrang, we don't generally have people getting hypothermia because of polar bear diving, pranks, or slipping off and iceberg. It's not like I have that much to do."
"Slipping off an iceberg? That happens often?"
She rolled her eyes. "Sev, Durmstrang doesn't generally check for street smarts."
"They check for book smarts?"
She was stopped from smacking him when Professor Lupin came into the room. "Am I . . . interrupting something?" he raised an eyebrow.
"She's missed you," Snape said.
He blinked.
"Yes, she was saying how dark and dreary it was when you were gone . . ."
"Please can I hit him?" Amy whined.
Remus shrugged. "What was stopping you?"
Snape gave a yelp of protest and quickly slid off the desk and out the door. Professor Lupin laughed, going over to kiss Amy on the forehead. "What was that about?" he asked.
"Nothing," Amy said, forcing herself to supply the answer none too quickly as she stood, unobtrusively spilling a few papers over the book Snape had just brought in and collecting it between them when she straightened things up. "He had nothing better to do."
"Wish I had that excuse," he muttered, halfway between sweet and sour. "Ames, I'll be upstairs."
"I'll be along shortly, soon as I fix this mess," she assured him, opening a drawer and beginning to organize her papers, waiting until the door had closed before pulling the book out again and looking at it.
Unknown emotions swirled in her eyes as she gently ran her fingers over the shiny red lettering on the black velvet cover. For all the inside was old and worn, the outside might as well have been made only yesterday. A slight shudder passed through her.
Chances are we can't even make it. Snape's words, meant to be reassuring, were also a sort of challenge, one to which she already felt herself rising. They could do it; she knew they could. If one person could do it, why not her and Sev, both of them modestly brilliant?
As if it might put off making a decision, Amy quickly shoved the book under a couple of inkpots in the bottom drawer and locked it, glancing out into the hospital wing one last time before heading upstairs.
* * * * *
Snape frowned. "Every time I open this book you cringe like you think something's going to jump out of it."
Amy shrugged, avoiding his glance. "It's nothing. Come on, we should try to get this part done before everyone comes back tomorrow."
He was not pacified. "Amy. Something's wrong and you won't tell me what it is."
"Because it's nothing. Just stress." She looked up from the roots she was carefully dicing and flashed him a smile. "You'd think I would've learned to handle it by now."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "You have learned to handle it by now."
Another non-committal shrug lifted her shoulders.
"Ames." He reached across the table to still her hands. "Look at me?"
Slowly she raised her eyes.
"Tell me what's wrong."
For a moment she didn't move. Finally she looked away, running a hand through her hair and sitting back in her chair. "You don't know who wrote that book."
"No . . ."
"And old family friend. Very old friend." A smile that might have been nostalgic was tainted by a half grimace. "He's the reason I was given no resistance in wanting to be a Healer."
"An old Black family friend wrote this. I'm assuming she was a Healer, then?" Snape lifted the book, pages rustling slightly.
"He," Amy corrected. "And he might have been, in another life, but something happened and . . . he had a different career."
She paused, though he knew better than to urge her on while she was collecting her thoughts.
"He used to visit," she continued. "Often. Only when I was very young, he stopped soon after I got out of school and started at St. Mungo's. Of course, he favored Bella." Amy cocked her head, eyes unfocused as if seeing it all happen again. "He loved her, loved her dearly, or at least adored her enough to make it seem like that. Most don't think him capable of love. I'm not sure.
"From the beginning he had a problem with Rodolphus. You know he lost her. Later -" she laughed without feeling - "Lucius said it was the family curse: whenever anyone wanted a daughter, someone else got there first."
"I don't understand where you're going with this," Snape said quietly when she had been silent a moment.
Amy winced. "I never told you. He knows my name, he's known me since I was a little girl. That's why he trusts you, Sev; because I do."
"Who?"
She shook her head. "Bella was his favorite. Still is, actually, but he can't get rid of Rodolphus; the irony is he actually needs him." When he was still not getting it, she continued, "Sev, he trained Bella himself!"
Snape shook his head, looking pensive. "Sorry, Ames; you've the brains, remember? I'm just the looks."
She would not be deterred. "Why did you think Dumbledore made you teach me Occlumency?"
"So no one could read your mind against your will."
"No, so a specific someone could stop reading my mind against my will. Tom Riddle, Sev; I've known him practically since I was born. Tom Riddle wrote that book." She gestured to it savagely.
"Riddle?" Snape had frozen. "You've - he - but he's -"
"An old Black family friend," she said, irritated.
Snape swallowed. "He wanted to be a Healer?"
She shrugged. "In a way. Mudbloods and Mugglelovers would have been allowed to die under his care. He wanted a St. Mungo's that weeded out the weak and inept. That was his dream, his launching point: to rid our world of them through instances that could be document as incurable cases or harsh allergic reactions or any number of things."
It finally seemed to hit him. "You became a Healer because of Voldemort."
A wry smile crept horribly onto her face. "We don't talk much, but he has wondered why you've seemed so clueless."
He shook his head. "That's a hell of a way to choose a career."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "Better than having no career and being Regulus' housewife, don't you think?"
There was no argument for that, so he simply turned back to the book and let her get on with chopping her roots.