Title: Follow Her Nightmare
Notes: See Epilogue
Chapter One: Beginning of Difficult Things Every consequence has a reason
The school year had finally ended and despite her best intentions, Hermione felt relieved. She suspected many of her students – off to enjoy their holidays – felt exactly the same way. But, as their teacher, it was difficult to shed the feeling she should enjoy school more than they did.
She joined the other teachers walking from the Great Hall, accompanying them into the bustling courtyard. The normally peaceful stretch of grass and paths was hidden under a noisy mess of students and their luggage, and Hermione wondered (again) how any of the students managed to get themselves and their belongings home in one piece. Surely things hadn't been that disorganised when she was a student.
Despite the excitement over the ensuing holidays (or perhaps because of it), Hermione found herself surrounded by students, all anxious to say good bye to her before they boarded the Hogwarts Express.
"Have a good summer, Professor!" A freckled, first year Hufflepuff whose Transfiguration mark was rather higher than expected.
"Thank you for your tuteledge, Professor Granger." The solemn Ravenclaw who would soon be following in Hermione's footsteps at Oxford.
"Behave yourself, Professor." A cheeky, Gryffindor surrounded by giggling girls.
The noise reached a crescendo and then, without warning, disappeared, leaving only the Hogwarts staff, all dressed in their last day of school robes. Albus held his hand out to them and with his unspoken request, they moved closer.
"I would like to thank you for another successful year," he said, "I know it has been difficult, but you – all of you – have pulled the students together magnificently."
He wore a smile, but Hermione could hear the sadness in his voice. She wondered just how hard Harry's death had affected Albus.
Professor Sprout clapped her hands together. "Well, that's it then. I say it's time for a party chaps."
Professor Flitwick cheered, and the teachers began wandering back to the castle. Hermione found herself at the back of the group walking alongside Severus. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering if he would join them at the party, and was surprised when Albus pulled both of them aside.
"I realise the two of you may be busy," Albus' eyes twinkled and Hermione wondered how much Severus had told him about their relationship, "but I wonder if you could accompany me to my office. A certain someone is waiting there. She hopes to beg a small favour of you."
"A small favour?" Severus was suspicious and Hermione found she was also wondering what the favour entailed. The last time Albus asked a small favour of her, she found herself teaching at Hogwarts.
"I'll leave it for her to explain," Albus smiled, "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
Hermione exchanged a quick glance with Severus as they followed Albus to his office. Severus looked as curious as he was suspicious, and Hermione realised she was also interested in what awaited them.
"Butterscotch pudding," Albus announced at the entrance way to his office. He stepped up onto the revolving stairs, followed by Hermione and Severus. "I seem to have run out of sweets," Dumbledore noted. "I really should write to the companies about that."
A strange look crossed Severus' face and Hermione was too busy being amused by it to notice who was waiting for them in Albus' office. It wasn't until Severus nodded and said "Minerva" that Hermione realised the Minister for Magic was there.
"Minister," Hermione smiled at her old teacher. "It's good to see you again."
"It's good to see you too, Hermione. Please, call me Minerva. I've discovered the people who call me Minister generally want something."
"I believe you want something from us, Minerva?" Severus crossed his arms and stared at the Minister.
"How about we sit down first?" Minerva drew some comfortable chairs with her wand, sitting in her own and waiting for Severus and Hermione to do the same. "As you know," she began, "the Ministry has been holding investigations and inquiries into the death of Harry Potter."
Hermione bit her lip. She'd been trying to avoid the Daily Prophet and its reports, but the gossip in the staff room was unavoidable. Across from her, Severus scowled. "Of course," he said tightly.
Minerva ignored his tone. "We believe there is . . . more than we have uncovered. At first we thought it as just a raid gone wrong, aurors using sloppy work; but discoveries have been made." She sighed. "We have also run into a few solid brick walls. It seems many people are, well, reluctant to talk to our investigators. It's made it quite impossible to piece together the whole story."
"Imagine that," Severus shook his head, "people not wanting to talk to Ministry investigators. How the world has changed."
"I have missed your sarcasm, Severus," Minerva said.
"You're no slouch in that department yourself," he replied.
"Minerva," Hermione interrupted, before the bickering could work up a head of steam. "This is all very good to know, but why are you telling us about this? What is this favour you want?"
Silence drifted over the office, the Headmasters leaning forward in their portraits. Then Severus shifted slightly. "She wants us to investigate Potter's death." His voice was soft and dangerous as he looked from Hermione to Minerva, who was nodding slightly.
"That's correct," she said.
A swell of emotion moved rapidly through Hermione's body: fear, hope, anger, disgust. She found herself staring at the floor of Dumbledore's office, wondering why on earth she ever agreed to come back.
"Why do you want us?" Severus said. Hermione looked at him, grateful he had asked the question she had been unable to wrap her tongue around. "We're not exactly trained for this."
"That's actually one of the reasons why we want you. The people who are trained by us aren't exactly getting anywhere. We need to try new tactics." She sighed and began counting off her fingers. "The two of you are trained and experienced in research. You've worked together before, covertly. And rather than the tainted name of the Ministry behind you, the two of you carry the good name of Hogwarts."
"And," Dumbledore added, "you're the only two teachers who didn't submit holiday plans."
Severus glared. "We're being sent out on some . . . mission because we forgot to fill out paperwork?"
"Well if you feel that way you don't have to go." Minerva huffed. "I just thought it would put a lot of people at ease if we could put this matter to rest."
"I'm sure it wouldn't be detrimental to your popularity either," Severus said, leaning forward in his seat.
"No, nipping potential threats in the bud never hurt anyone's popularity," Minerva sighed. "Look at Harry Potter."
Severus dropped back in his seat. "I don't want this to tie up my summer. I have other plans and projects I wish to complete."
"Would you at least consider it?" Minerva held out her hands and Hermione was struck by how helpless the Minister looked. "Take it away with you, think about it, discuss it with each other. Please don't just dismiss it out of hand." She glanced at Albus then back at Hermione and Severus. "If you decide you'll do it, come and see me. Otherwise we'll just let it drop."
Hermione looked at Severus who nodded slightly. "We'll let you know, Minerva," he said.
"Thank you, Severus," Minerva turned to Hermione. "Are you fine with this?"
"Sure." Hermione wished she had said more, wished she could have made a bigger contribution to the meeting. It had never been her style to sit by and let someone else do the talking for her. But her head as still spinning and it was difficult to get her thoughts into any coherent fashion.
"Thank you." Minerva stood up. "I hope you'll help us."
"We'll try."
"I don't want to do this." Hermione balled her hands into fists, allowing her fingernails to dig into her palms. "I just don't see how we can do it. How I can do it."
Severus poured two glasses of Elderwine and brought them to the chairs in front of the fireplace. "I must admit I have my own reservations." He handed her one of the glasses and sat down. "I suspect your reasons are a little different to mine."
She twirled the glass between her fingers, her eyes focused on the strangely white liquid. "I don't want a confrontation with the past. This . . . investigation will have us poking into all kinds of dirty corners I haven't even thought about for ten years. I'm not ready for that."
Severus sighed. "I'm wondering what the Ministry managed to uncover, why they're so very interested. We already know about the prophecy, but that finished when the Dark . . . Voldemort died. What else is there about Harry Potter that has Minerva so worried?" He drank, emptying the glass. "We're going to be sticking our noses into places where people don't want them. And there's no guarantee we won't become the targets of whoever it is we're trying to stop."
Hermione felt a familiar pang of guilt, the one that struck whenever she thought about Harry. It would be easy to walk away from the investigation, Minerva had made that clear. But she was worried that walking away would make her feel worse than ever.
"We're going to do it, aren't we?" she said softly.
Severus closed his eyes and suddenly looked old. "Yes. Despite our extreme reluctance, I don't see that we have a choice."
"Maybe it won't be so bad," she stared into the cold fireplace, wishing there was a fire burning, someway to warm herself up.
"We're going to delve into the depths of the Potter family," Severus shook his head. It's going to be bad."
Minerva McGonagall was never the favoured choice as Minister of Magic. Despite her excellent credentials and her vital role in defeating Voldemort, the Ministry weren't inclined to accept the intrusion of a Hogwarts' teacher. However, heavy pressure from Dumbledore and other interested parties ensured that Minister McGonagall would became a reality.
She was in her office when they arrived, working her way through a list of troubles and responsibilities brought to her by a serene secretary. She looked up at Severus and Hermione with a smile, gesturing at them to sit down while she finished Ministry business.
"Send a memo to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, please. They need to get back to me on the preparations for the Quidditch international."
"Certainly Minister," the secretary turned neatly on her heel and walked out of the office, leaving the three of them alone. Hermione watched her go, marvelling at how nice it would be to have a secretary to handle all the menial jobs.
"So you've decided to do it," Minerva smiled, "thank you."
Severus shrugged. "It wasn't really a choice."
Hermione was determined not to sit by and let Severus do all the talking. She had awoken restless, after a night of tossing and turning. As she looked at the sunrise out her window, she made a promise: if she was going to investigate Harry's death, she was going to do it properly. She lifted her chin and looked at Minerva.
"What's our first step? Do you have a particular direction you wish us to take this investigation? Certain information you want us to pursue? What can you tell us to begin with?"
Minerva pulled a thick file of papers from her desk drawer and handed it to Hermione. It was filled with hastily written notes and typed memos from various aurors, as well as newspaper clippings and official looking documents. Hermione flipped through it quickly before handing it to Severus, wondering if they'd ever find useful information amongst the clutter.
"That folder just contains the information which has been classified as relevant," Minerva said. She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I guess you'd prefer the brief version, though?"
"That would be preferential," Severus said.
"Indeed." Minerva folded her hands and sat back in her chair. "As you both know, many of Harry's powers were anticipated by Sybill Trelawney's first prediction. However, after Voldemort was killed Harry's powers continued to grow – beyond the things he learnt. No matter how hard we've . . . no matter how close we examine the prophecy, we can't determine how this occurred." She smiled at old memories, "we all know that Harry didn't work at anything except Quidditch or Defense Against the Dark Arts unless he really had to. Yet, the way he progressed, he was moving toward the same levels of power as Dumbledore himself." Her smile dissapeared and she looked down. "The problem is, Dumbledore's powers were aquired after many long years of study. We don't know why Harry was getting so powerful. And we don't know why he was killed."
Hermione leant forward. "Are you sure it was natural power? Couldn't it have just been a fortunate chain of events related to the prophecy? Or even Voldemort's demise?"
Minerva nodded, ignoring Severus' look. "Those possibilities were high on my list. But Dumbledore revisited the prophecy for me and he doesn't believe that Harry's mysterious developments followed it," she frowned. "So we began looking at Harry's family. There's always been a strange aura around the Potters. And of course, with both James and Harry as Voldemort's original targets, we wondered why he didn't intend to kill Lily – who was clearly working against him and was a Muggle-born."
Severus snorted. "Good taste?" he muttered under his breath.
Minerva glared at him."Voldemort used the Death Mark as a defining symbol. Good taste seems unlikely." She turned her gaze to Hermione, "unfortunately when we tried to get more information on the Potter family, doors began to slam in our faces. That's why we need the two of you."
"What do you want us to find out?" Hermione asked.
"Why was Harry Potter killed?" Minerva looked back to Severus, "and who killed him?"
"How," Severus' voice was dripping with venom, "do you expect us to be able to get this information?"
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Read some books. Go through the material I've given you. Mostly you need to talk to people. Old contacts, old friends, old shady characters who hide in dark caves. I particularly want you to talk to the people who were close to Harry and Ginny just before Harry's death. Remus Lupin. Nymphodora Tonks." She peered over her glasses at Hermione. "Ron Weasley."
"Fine," Hermione said, her voice stable.
"I would like you to talk to Ginny as well, but her baby's due any moment now," Minerva continued.
"Baby?" Severus narrowed his eyes. "Another Potter baby?"
"You didn't know?"
"No."
"Well at the moment the main concern of the Ministry is with Harry's children. They won't be able to stay in hiding their whole lives."
"Okay," Severus got to his feet, the thick file clutched in his hands. "We'll talk to some people and try to get your answers for you."
"The Ministry thanks you."
"What should we do first?" Hermione asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.
Severus picked up a bottle of port her parents had sent her for Christmas. "What?" he asked absently, examining the bottle's label.
"What are we going to do first? With the investigation?"
He put the unopened bottle down and looked down at her. "You intend to start this right away?"
She looked at him, the last remnants of energy leaving her. She had no idea why she kept returning to this man, why she found him attractive, why she stayed. "I want to get this over with."
He dropped his head. "We'll start tomorrow," he said, his voice low, "I'll head to Oxford for some research while you go visit an old friend."
"Which old friend?" she asked suspiciously.
"Ron Weasley," he replied, the grin on his face wider than it had any right to be.
Notes:
Elderwine is my own personal creation. If JKR can make up her own spirits . . .
I assume the Quidditch international was probably with Australia. We probably won.
Chapter One: Beginning of Difficult Things Every consequence has a reason
The school year had finally ended and despite her best intentions, Hermione felt relieved. She suspected many of her students – off to enjoy their holidays – felt exactly the same way. But, as their teacher, it was difficult to shed the feeling she should enjoy school more than they did.
She joined the other teachers walking from the Great Hall, accompanying them into the bustling courtyard. The normally peaceful stretch of grass and paths was hidden under a noisy mess of students and their luggage, and Hermione wondered (again) how any of the students managed to get themselves and their belongings home in one piece. Surely things hadn't been that disorganised when she was a student.
Despite the excitement over the ensuing holidays (or perhaps because of it), Hermione found herself surrounded by students, all anxious to say good bye to her before they boarded the Hogwarts Express.
"Have a good summer, Professor!" A freckled, first year Hufflepuff whose Transfiguration mark was rather higher than expected.
"Thank you for your tuteledge, Professor Granger." The solemn Ravenclaw who would soon be following in Hermione's footsteps at Oxford.
"Behave yourself, Professor." A cheeky, Gryffindor surrounded by giggling girls.
The noise reached a crescendo and then, without warning, disappeared, leaving only the Hogwarts staff, all dressed in their last day of school robes. Albus held his hand out to them and with his unspoken request, they moved closer.
"I would like to thank you for another successful year," he said, "I know it has been difficult, but you – all of you – have pulled the students together magnificently."
He wore a smile, but Hermione could hear the sadness in his voice. She wondered just how hard Harry's death had affected Albus.
Professor Sprout clapped her hands together. "Well, that's it then. I say it's time for a party chaps."
Professor Flitwick cheered, and the teachers began wandering back to the castle. Hermione found herself at the back of the group walking alongside Severus. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering if he would join them at the party, and was surprised when Albus pulled both of them aside.
"I realise the two of you may be busy," Albus' eyes twinkled and Hermione wondered how much Severus had told him about their relationship, "but I wonder if you could accompany me to my office. A certain someone is waiting there. She hopes to beg a small favour of you."
"A small favour?" Severus was suspicious and Hermione found she was also wondering what the favour entailed. The last time Albus asked a small favour of her, she found herself teaching at Hogwarts.
"I'll leave it for her to explain," Albus smiled, "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
Hermione exchanged a quick glance with Severus as they followed Albus to his office. Severus looked as curious as he was suspicious, and Hermione realised she was also interested in what awaited them.
"Butterscotch pudding," Albus announced at the entrance way to his office. He stepped up onto the revolving stairs, followed by Hermione and Severus. "I seem to have run out of sweets," Dumbledore noted. "I really should write to the companies about that."
A strange look crossed Severus' face and Hermione was too busy being amused by it to notice who was waiting for them in Albus' office. It wasn't until Severus nodded and said "Minerva" that Hermione realised the Minister for Magic was there.
"Minister," Hermione smiled at her old teacher. "It's good to see you again."
"It's good to see you too, Hermione. Please, call me Minerva. I've discovered the people who call me Minister generally want something."
"I believe you want something from us, Minerva?" Severus crossed his arms and stared at the Minister.
"How about we sit down first?" Minerva drew some comfortable chairs with her wand, sitting in her own and waiting for Severus and Hermione to do the same. "As you know," she began, "the Ministry has been holding investigations and inquiries into the death of Harry Potter."
Hermione bit her lip. She'd been trying to avoid the Daily Prophet and its reports, but the gossip in the staff room was unavoidable. Across from her, Severus scowled. "Of course," he said tightly.
Minerva ignored his tone. "We believe there is . . . more than we have uncovered. At first we thought it as just a raid gone wrong, aurors using sloppy work; but discoveries have been made." She sighed. "We have also run into a few solid brick walls. It seems many people are, well, reluctant to talk to our investigators. It's made it quite impossible to piece together the whole story."
"Imagine that," Severus shook his head, "people not wanting to talk to Ministry investigators. How the world has changed."
"I have missed your sarcasm, Severus," Minerva said.
"You're no slouch in that department yourself," he replied.
"Minerva," Hermione interrupted, before the bickering could work up a head of steam. "This is all very good to know, but why are you telling us about this? What is this favour you want?"
Silence drifted over the office, the Headmasters leaning forward in their portraits. Then Severus shifted slightly. "She wants us to investigate Potter's death." His voice was soft and dangerous as he looked from Hermione to Minerva, who was nodding slightly.
"That's correct," she said.
A swell of emotion moved rapidly through Hermione's body: fear, hope, anger, disgust. She found herself staring at the floor of Dumbledore's office, wondering why on earth she ever agreed to come back.
"Why do you want us?" Severus said. Hermione looked at him, grateful he had asked the question she had been unable to wrap her tongue around. "We're not exactly trained for this."
"That's actually one of the reasons why we want you. The people who are trained by us aren't exactly getting anywhere. We need to try new tactics." She sighed and began counting off her fingers. "The two of you are trained and experienced in research. You've worked together before, covertly. And rather than the tainted name of the Ministry behind you, the two of you carry the good name of Hogwarts."
"And," Dumbledore added, "you're the only two teachers who didn't submit holiday plans."
Severus glared. "We're being sent out on some . . . mission because we forgot to fill out paperwork?"
"Well if you feel that way you don't have to go." Minerva huffed. "I just thought it would put a lot of people at ease if we could put this matter to rest."
"I'm sure it wouldn't be detrimental to your popularity either," Severus said, leaning forward in his seat.
"No, nipping potential threats in the bud never hurt anyone's popularity," Minerva sighed. "Look at Harry Potter."
Severus dropped back in his seat. "I don't want this to tie up my summer. I have other plans and projects I wish to complete."
"Would you at least consider it?" Minerva held out her hands and Hermione was struck by how helpless the Minister looked. "Take it away with you, think about it, discuss it with each other. Please don't just dismiss it out of hand." She glanced at Albus then back at Hermione and Severus. "If you decide you'll do it, come and see me. Otherwise we'll just let it drop."
Hermione looked at Severus who nodded slightly. "We'll let you know, Minerva," he said.
"Thank you, Severus," Minerva turned to Hermione. "Are you fine with this?"
"Sure." Hermione wished she had said more, wished she could have made a bigger contribution to the meeting. It had never been her style to sit by and let someone else do the talking for her. But her head as still spinning and it was difficult to get her thoughts into any coherent fashion.
"Thank you." Minerva stood up. "I hope you'll help us."
"We'll try."
"I don't want to do this." Hermione balled her hands into fists, allowing her fingernails to dig into her palms. "I just don't see how we can do it. How I can do it."
Severus poured two glasses of Elderwine and brought them to the chairs in front of the fireplace. "I must admit I have my own reservations." He handed her one of the glasses and sat down. "I suspect your reasons are a little different to mine."
She twirled the glass between her fingers, her eyes focused on the strangely white liquid. "I don't want a confrontation with the past. This . . . investigation will have us poking into all kinds of dirty corners I haven't even thought about for ten years. I'm not ready for that."
Severus sighed. "I'm wondering what the Ministry managed to uncover, why they're so very interested. We already know about the prophecy, but that finished when the Dark . . . Voldemort died. What else is there about Harry Potter that has Minerva so worried?" He drank, emptying the glass. "We're going to be sticking our noses into places where people don't want them. And there's no guarantee we won't become the targets of whoever it is we're trying to stop."
Hermione felt a familiar pang of guilt, the one that struck whenever she thought about Harry. It would be easy to walk away from the investigation, Minerva had made that clear. But she was worried that walking away would make her feel worse than ever.
"We're going to do it, aren't we?" she said softly.
Severus closed his eyes and suddenly looked old. "Yes. Despite our extreme reluctance, I don't see that we have a choice."
"Maybe it won't be so bad," she stared into the cold fireplace, wishing there was a fire burning, someway to warm herself up.
"We're going to delve into the depths of the Potter family," Severus shook his head. It's going to be bad."
Minerva McGonagall was never the favoured choice as Minister of Magic. Despite her excellent credentials and her vital role in defeating Voldemort, the Ministry weren't inclined to accept the intrusion of a Hogwarts' teacher. However, heavy pressure from Dumbledore and other interested parties ensured that Minister McGonagall would became a reality.
She was in her office when they arrived, working her way through a list of troubles and responsibilities brought to her by a serene secretary. She looked up at Severus and Hermione with a smile, gesturing at them to sit down while she finished Ministry business.
"Send a memo to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, please. They need to get back to me on the preparations for the Quidditch international."
"Certainly Minister," the secretary turned neatly on her heel and walked out of the office, leaving the three of them alone. Hermione watched her go, marvelling at how nice it would be to have a secretary to handle all the menial jobs.
"So you've decided to do it," Minerva smiled, "thank you."
Severus shrugged. "It wasn't really a choice."
Hermione was determined not to sit by and let Severus do all the talking. She had awoken restless, after a night of tossing and turning. As she looked at the sunrise out her window, she made a promise: if she was going to investigate Harry's death, she was going to do it properly. She lifted her chin and looked at Minerva.
"What's our first step? Do you have a particular direction you wish us to take this investigation? Certain information you want us to pursue? What can you tell us to begin with?"
Minerva pulled a thick file of papers from her desk drawer and handed it to Hermione. It was filled with hastily written notes and typed memos from various aurors, as well as newspaper clippings and official looking documents. Hermione flipped through it quickly before handing it to Severus, wondering if they'd ever find useful information amongst the clutter.
"That folder just contains the information which has been classified as relevant," Minerva said. She took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I guess you'd prefer the brief version, though?"
"That would be preferential," Severus said.
"Indeed." Minerva folded her hands and sat back in her chair. "As you both know, many of Harry's powers were anticipated by Sybill Trelawney's first prediction. However, after Voldemort was killed Harry's powers continued to grow – beyond the things he learnt. No matter how hard we've . . . no matter how close we examine the prophecy, we can't determine how this occurred." She smiled at old memories, "we all know that Harry didn't work at anything except Quidditch or Defense Against the Dark Arts unless he really had to. Yet, the way he progressed, he was moving toward the same levels of power as Dumbledore himself." Her smile dissapeared and she looked down. "The problem is, Dumbledore's powers were aquired after many long years of study. We don't know why Harry was getting so powerful. And we don't know why he was killed."
Hermione leant forward. "Are you sure it was natural power? Couldn't it have just been a fortunate chain of events related to the prophecy? Or even Voldemort's demise?"
Minerva nodded, ignoring Severus' look. "Those possibilities were high on my list. But Dumbledore revisited the prophecy for me and he doesn't believe that Harry's mysterious developments followed it," she frowned. "So we began looking at Harry's family. There's always been a strange aura around the Potters. And of course, with both James and Harry as Voldemort's original targets, we wondered why he didn't intend to kill Lily – who was clearly working against him and was a Muggle-born."
Severus snorted. "Good taste?" he muttered under his breath.
Minerva glared at him."Voldemort used the Death Mark as a defining symbol. Good taste seems unlikely." She turned her gaze to Hermione, "unfortunately when we tried to get more information on the Potter family, doors began to slam in our faces. That's why we need the two of you."
"What do you want us to find out?" Hermione asked.
"Why was Harry Potter killed?" Minerva looked back to Severus, "and who killed him?"
"How," Severus' voice was dripping with venom, "do you expect us to be able to get this information?"
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Read some books. Go through the material I've given you. Mostly you need to talk to people. Old contacts, old friends, old shady characters who hide in dark caves. I particularly want you to talk to the people who were close to Harry and Ginny just before Harry's death. Remus Lupin. Nymphodora Tonks." She peered over her glasses at Hermione. "Ron Weasley."
"Fine," Hermione said, her voice stable.
"I would like you to talk to Ginny as well, but her baby's due any moment now," Minerva continued.
"Baby?" Severus narrowed his eyes. "Another Potter baby?"
"You didn't know?"
"No."
"Well at the moment the main concern of the Ministry is with Harry's children. They won't be able to stay in hiding their whole lives."
"Okay," Severus got to his feet, the thick file clutched in his hands. "We'll talk to some people and try to get your answers for you."
"The Ministry thanks you."
"What should we do first?" Hermione asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.
Severus picked up a bottle of port her parents had sent her for Christmas. "What?" he asked absently, examining the bottle's label.
"What are we going to do first? With the investigation?"
He put the unopened bottle down and looked down at her. "You intend to start this right away?"
She looked at him, the last remnants of energy leaving her. She had no idea why she kept returning to this man, why she found him attractive, why she stayed. "I want to get this over with."
He dropped his head. "We'll start tomorrow," he said, his voice low, "I'll head to Oxford for some research while you go visit an old friend."
"Which old friend?" she asked suspiciously.
"Ron Weasley," he replied, the grin on his face wider than it had any right to be.
Notes:
Elderwine is my own personal creation. If JKR can make up her own spirits . . .
I assume the Quidditch international was probably with Australia. We probably won.