Chapter Fifty: Longing and Loyalty

Severus scratched the date off the calendar and picked up his Firewhiskey glass. October sixth had come and gone, just as had the first month of Hogwarts. She had been gone almost five months. He had even gone so far as to risk detection by inquiring as to her whereabouts at a meeting of the Death Eaters, only to get stares and a crack about 'what Gryffindors were good for' from Goyle Senior, accompanied by a lecherous smile that made him wish he was gun-licensed already.

Not that he could kill with one; Dumbledore had watched some Muggle television to get an idea of guns and almost cancelled their use. It was only with the development of a new, nonlethal bullet that the peaceable old man had relented. A polyresin casing holding a glass capsule of Severus' latest potion had replaced the deliciously lethal lumps of lead the Americans so liberally poured into each other on telly. It was paralytic and acted much like an ordinary poison, except that it rendered the injected unconscious, immobile and basely inanimate for more than three days, so that anyone not knowing the secret of the potion would assume them dead. The glass casing, upon breakage, would cause a minor flesh wound with some bleeding, so that it looked like a bullet, felt like a bullet, and did everything but kill.

Needless to say, Cassandra didn't care much for them.

The werewolf's classes had transformed from merely forcing the students to think about the inherent hypocrisy of the Death Eaters' propaganda to direct and violent attacks on the theory of pure blood. Draco Malfoy, despite having graduated, was still at Hogwarts, as what Dolores Umbridge termed 'a preventor of bias through apprenticeship.' Draco knew full well he was there to spy on the Americans and did exactly the opposite, reporting every scrap of information he could, whether from the Fudge Ministry or his father's friends. He had also been reprogramming little Death-Eaters-that-were-to-be, taking first-years on broom rides and being an unofficial role model to all who seemed at risk.

For once, Severus' godson was the moderate in a pair. Cassandra Tyler had caught Vincent Crabbe with a new Dark Mark on the last day of term and challenged him to a duel. She was not a Colonel at twenty-three for nothing. It was only through the intervention of Draco that Crabbe had escaped with his life. This served two purposes: Crabbe was reassured of a loyalty Draco no longer held, and Hagrid was spared cleaning up body parts.

The werewolf, so furious both at herself for not having prevented Crabbe's joining up and at the whole enemy side in general, went into the Forbidden Forest with her guns and most of the ammunition Dumbledore had vetoed. She returned half-conscious on the back of a centaur, with the promise of the Acromantula colony that no human but a Death Eater would be considered food. Hagrid had later gone in to see what damage had been done to secure this promise and didn't speak to anyone for almost a whole day. The spiders had been terrified so thoroughly that the half-giant made it to Aragog before he saw even one. None of them had been killed, but there were spider legs scattered all around.

The centaurs, long rivals of the Acromantulas, were actually rather pleased by this and promoted Cass from hound to colt status in the tribe. There had been a ceremony for that, of course, and the werewolf had returned from two days in the Forest quiet, introspectful, and less of a firebrand –so quiet, in fact, that Severus barely heard her enter.

"Sevvy?"

"What is it?"

"An owl, addressed to the two of us." Slowly, as if the strain had aged him to older than Dumbledore, Severus rose from his office chair. Cass, her hands shaking, handed him the note. "Is that Firewhiskey?"

"I thought you had quit-" The werewolf had already drained the glass. "Never mind." Severus looked at the Muggle envelope with a growing sense of dread. "The Grangers?"

"Don't you know the handwriting?"

"No."

"It looks horribly familiar to me." Cass perched on the desk tensely, though a bit relaxed from the Old Ogden's. "Well, open it."

"Why didn't you?"

"You're older."

"Ladies first."

"Higher in rank, head of Slytherin."

"Never a pedagogue before a warrior, Colonel."

"Sevvy, you open that envelope or I'll…" Cass thought for a moment. "Please. I'm a little scared."

"If I must, I must." Severus tore open the envelope and read the short, heaven-sent epistle:

'Slytherins,
She is in my care. I don't know where we are, but my husband has put me in charge of her. She is well, and will remain so. –N.'

The Potions master, snarkiest and toughest of all professors, handed the note to his coworker, unable to form words.

"Severus, what is- oh!"

"She lives…"

Cass found herself holding her friend a moment later as he sobbed unrestrainedly into her coat. Instead of letting fall tears of joy herself, however, she cuddled Sevvy close, knowing he needed it. John hurried into the room to see what was going on, but a look from his wife assured him the news was good.

"Narcissa?" he asked. Cass nodded, the tears finally coming. "Oh, thank…you know what this means?"

"We don't know where either of them are."

"Yes," John pulled a Machine diagram from his pocket. "But we can find out."

Nine hours later, Cass rose from the office chair and sighed.

"Completely Unplottable. I have a wavelength that shows that they're both alive, but that's about it."

"Couldn't you have searched for Hermione's wavelength earlier, then?" Severus asked sharply. Cass gave him a scowl.

"You need at least two people to lock in a wavelength, and even then I kept picking up Muggles."

"Can't you search by magical powers?"

"Most Muggles nowadays have got enough latent power to show a false positive," John explained sadly.

"'Aven't you read their stuff about ESP and cell memory and suchlike? It's no joke. Seven times I've gotten a pair of American tourists in a sex-toy shop. Same appearances, ages, everything. Enough to disturb you rotten."

"Well, what can we do?"

"Not much for them, but I did lock in the Death Eaters' nesting place."

"I knew that."

"Only far enough to Apparate there. You couldn't, say, lead an army straight to Voldy's house."

"Shall we?"

"It's too well fortified, be like attacking a tank with pebbles. I've got a better idea. Have you ever been in a Muggle elevator?"

"Well…yes."

"Okay. That's the idea I've got, slightly modified." The mischievous grin had returned. As John looked at his wife, it broke across his face as well.

"I think what she means, Severus," the werewolf explained, "is Radio Free Europe."

"Radio Free Hermione," Cass added. "We can harass to the point that operations are interrupted, as well as reassure the good guys in there that we'll get her out."

"How?" It was a titanic question, but the American answered it with a grin.

"Just leave everything to me, Sevvy. You need to go figure out what's her favorite song."

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Severus had just found a stack of suitably offensive records –the collected works of Barry Manilow to be exact, for the harassment of the Death Eaters via radio and was carrying them downstairs when he heard the sound. It was unmistakably a woman crying and raving, but which one?

"First Hermione, now the twins," the poor lady sobbed. "Will this madness never stop?"

"Molly, it's alright. I can have their location for you inside of five minutes." Cass' most reassuring voice did not hide the hint of steel that had entered her tendencies since the first kidnapping. "Besides, isn't it equally likely that they simply went somewhere and haven't called?"

"They would never go two days without at least sending an owl, especially not at a time like this!"

"I agree." Severus set down the records and looked concernedly toward the frightened mother and increasingly tense friend. "Is it possible they decided to launch an attack themselves? That would fit their characters a lot more than disappearing inconsiderately."

"Oh, I don't know, Severus…"

"Cassie, love!" John called from upstairs, stepping down the flight with an unusually merry grin and several people behind him. "Look who's here!"

"Oh, thank heavens-!"

"Where the hell have you two been?!"

"Mum!" the two identical entrepreneurs squeaked in unison.

"Didn't expect you here."

"We had just-"

"Well, it's a long story…"

"And you'd better start telling it before we both smack you upside the heads," Cass observed. "Jacquie, Marguerite, what are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Weasley, have you met the St. Just sisters?" John introduced. "They have the potions and ingredients shop in Hogsmeade, the new one."

"Lovely to meet you, dears," Molly greeted, shaking hands with two very nervous, very French potions mistresses, who were, curiously enough, twenty-year-old twins as well, only dark-haired and amber-eyed. "Have you been out and about with my wild sons?"

"That's partly what we were up to, Mum," Fred explained.

"We took your advice," George added to Cass.

"My advice?" The werewolf looked indignant. "I never told you to run off and scare your mother and I into fits."

"No, about the honeymoon spot," George explained, giving Jacquie a look of affection.

"New York City is really romantic." Fred kissed Marguerite on the cheek. Both French sisters looked slightly guilty.

"You see, Mrs. Weasley-"

"Zhe boys were anxious to be married without any threat-"

"An' Volde-more would be so certain to attack a wedding party-"

"We protested, but zhey are awfully cute, you know-"

"We wanted to meet you first, but they simply sprung it on us-"

"An' eet was so romantic!"

Severus watched the scene with utter astonishment. It was only when he realized Cass and John were on the verge of exploding with restrained laughter and relief that he knew it wasn't some extended prank.

"You eloped?" he asked numbly.

"Why, yes, Professor Snape."

"Er…congratulations!" Molly looked at Severus with astonishment equal to his own. "It is awfully romantic."

"Yes…" Fred and George watched as the tears welled up in their mother's eyes, terrified as to what they meant. "Oh, you mischievous darlings! Come give me a hug, and you too, Jacquie and Marguerite. …I have new daughters-in-law!"

"A reception party!" Cass suggested. "Tonight!" The newlyweds beamed.

"I'll call the Weasleys together!"

"I'll alert the house-elves and order some kind of decadent French dessert!"

"I'll get champagne and Coke!"

"I'll…go warn Filch."

Severus couldn't help worrying. A new generation of the most mischievous of Weasleys was a genuinely scary idea…though not all that bad when he considered it. Peeves, at least, would be utterly delighted.

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The combination of potions resulted in a constant, fitful sleep for the unwilling inhabitant of the squalid little house. Narcissa almost didn't dare try to counter it, as whenever Hermione did awake, she often vomited or fainted again quickly. There was a nutrient potion in lieu of food, another that maintained vitamin balance, another to prevent bedsores…all in all, her prisoner –no, patient, was being drugged out of her senses twenty-four-seven.

If only she knew where they were or could somehow get more than a carefully indescript owl out to Severus, Narcissa would want the poor girl under Poppy Pomfrey's care. The corkscrewing slash around Hermione's wrist, inflicted by Wormtail's knife during the struggle, was still a deep, angry red, and the blond woman tried with the Muggle salves available to make the mark less painful. She had no magical things to work with, and her wand was failing because of the antimagic warding cuff on her own right wrist. Pettigrew had locked it on himself at Voldemort's demand. Lucius would never have done such a thing.

It had been easier and harder than Narcissa could have imagined to gain care of the girl. It took almost nothing to win over the Dark Lord or his followers, once she had Lucius convinced. Convincing Lucius took only what she had been denying since the Dark Lord rose again. She had gotten him to believe that she still had feelings for him, and they had shared one long, heartstopping and heartbreaking kiss before the carriage came to take her and the prisoner to this secluded place. It hadn't been hard at all, now that she considered it. The only irony was why it hadn't been difficult to fall into her estranged husband's arms and swear faithfulness, affection, love, anything.

Underneath it all, she still did care for him.

If only he could be deprogrammed like Draco or reborn as a spy like Severus. Despite his evil actions, his wrongful ideology, despite everything, he was still Lucius. He was still the blond Quidditch player who had kissed her outside the pitch for luck. She had been a third-year and he a sixth when that happened, and when she asked him why, he could barely answer. The truth was that they had been desperately in love, and were it not for Voldemort, pure blood and the gross insanity of prejudice, they would still be as alight with passion as ever.

There would also be nearly as many Malfoys as Weasleys if she had her wishes, Narcissa knew. She had always longed for a daughter and a son together, as she had never had a brother of her own except Severus. Draco would be her chivalrous little boy, growing to manhood and learning to run the family while still giving her hugs and asking her advice, while the daughter she never had would become a beautiful young lady. Her brother and father would protect her and Narcissa would teach her everything. It was a pretty dream, but never quite to be. Not quite as such.

Draco was growing into a man, alright, not a Death Eater. The daughter Narcissa had never had was protecting him, as she her, and together they were redeeming the name of Malfoy from Lucius' crimes. She was beautiful, if nothing like expected, and she was at least beginning to become friends with the mother who would so gladly have accepted her, now that she knew she was. She was a werewolf and an American, with more Lucius in her than anyone but Narcissa could see, but in a better way. Without Voldemort, Lucius would have become very much like her.

Cassandra Alcott Tyler and Draco Salazar Malfoy were Narcissa's last ties to the good person Lucius had once been, and Severus Snape was the only other family she had left, save Andromeda. Hermione was their friend, and possibly the love of Severus' life as well. In protecting her, she was protecting them, and she would do her duty to the hilt, no matter what it took.

In that respect, at least, she was still loyal.