UNFINISHED BUSINESS

This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling who, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and situations elaborated herein.

A/N: Spoilers. Thanks to all my reviewers.

Many of you didn't get past "I have only ever loved once" to "Whether I die tomorrow..." You might want to re-read chapter 9, this time taking note of comments like "a week and a day" and "It's only been a week." Just to remind you, here's that curse couplet again: "Hearts, as faces, time retraces; Flesh and bone to rock and stone."

"Ginny is coming, isn't she?" Harry asked, striding restlessly around Hermione's office.

"Yes, but only just in time for the match." She fiddled with her quill. "It's just as well, because there's something I wanted to talk to you about before she gets here."

Harry went very still.

"Something about Ginny? With us?" Ron asked, straightening up from his slouch. Since becoming an Auror, he'd developed a nose for a mystery.

"In a way." Hermione squirmed. This wasn't betrayal; it only felt like it. "Unfinished business. It's about that diary you destroyed, Harry. How sure are you that it can't cause any more trouble?"

"I stabbed it with a basilisk's fang," Harry said. "It left a blackened hole in the middle. The ink ran out like blood and Riddle died. Why?"

"I think she still dreams of him."

"You think?" Ron stabbed a forefinger at her. "Or you know?"

In the silence that followed both men drew closer, leaning over her as she sat with her eyes on her book-laden desk.

"I know."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry exploded.

"I am telling you!" she shot back. "I've only just found out myself -"

"What does Snape say?"

Green eyes and brown eyes turned to stare at Ron. He snorted.

"You've got an ex-Death Eater who's an expert on curses and used to be chums with the git who gave her that diary and you didn't even ask him?"

"You're right," she said, ignoring Ron's muttered, "How long have I waited to hear you say that?" She jumped up. "I'll ask him now."

"But not without us," Harry admonished. "We're coming too."

"Only if he's well enough to see you. Whatever's going on has been going on for years. I won't risk his health by hurrying him beyond his strength."

In the event, they didn't meet him till the next morning. Snape had insisted on Ginny's presence, pointing out that they'd need information that only she knew, and the game and after-match celebrations left Hermione too busy treating various small injuries to attend sooner.

Snape had had another bad night but when she asked him at breakfast whether he wanted to postpone the conference he snapped, "No."

Hermione was ready to quarrel too. Ever since her friends had arrived in the castle he'd been 'sulking'.

"You have a strange way of treating someone you claim to love," she snapped back.

"I've never claimed any such thing."

"You call everyone 'Dearest, ever-dearest' in your letters, do you? That must make for some interesting correspondence."

"You're not the girl I -" He bit off the last word and closed his eyes. "You're a woman now, a woman I don't even know."

"You never knew me."

"I never let on that I knew you. Surely even your limited intelligence can see the difference."

"Yesterday, you said that your feelings didn't change," she reminded him. "Was that a lie then?"

He stared at his fisted hands for an endless moment.

"No," he muttered, defeated.

He said nothing more till the others were assembled around his bed. Ginny had balked at first but fortunately Harry and Ron had finally learnt not to lay down the law and Snape's thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. He was sitting up with banked pillows, a blanket pulled up almost to his chin, but he snapped back to attention when Ginny began to describe her dreams, though his questions related more to duration and chronology than to content.

Then he turned to Harry for a description of the diary's destruction and whereabouts.

"So Lucius took it away with him," he said. "It isn't in the Chamber of Secrets, then?"

Harry agreed.

"It wouldn't be beyond Lucius to put an extra curse on it before handing it over," Snape said at last. "We'll have to work on the assumption that he did." He turned to the other men. "Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, I recommend that you go immediately to Azkaban to interview Lucius. They'll surely not deny an Auror access and no doubt Mr Potter's fame gives him the entrée anywhere."

"If you think we'll let Harry and Ron go without us -"

"I'll have you know Ginny and I are perfectly capable -"

"You asked for my advice, I suggest you listen to it." Snape's voice was icy. "It is imperative that Miss Weasley avoid all contact with Lucius till this situation is resolved and, Miss Granger, you have responsibilities here that you cannot leave for so long. I assure you both that you will have your opportunity to partake in the excitement."

With a bad grace, the two subsided and Harry and Ron made their escape before there was time for another female explosion. As soon as he was satisfied they were gone, Snape smirked.

"That should keep them out of the way for a sufficient period," he said. "I understand, Miss Weasley, that you've met with Draco Malfoy several times without ill-effect. If anyone alive knows what happened to that diary or how it might have been cursed, it would be he." After four years in Azkaban, Lucius was probably raving and even an accomplished Legilimens might have difficulty accessing his memories. "He had quite an extensive training in Theoretical Dark Arts as a child."

Hermione stared and Ginny giggled.

"That was brilliant, Professor," she said. "Evil but brilliant."

"What about me?" Hermione asked, finding her voice.

"You may go too, if you wish – if Filius doesn't object. Without the Ministry or the Azkaban bureaucracy to fight your way through, obtaining an interview shouldn't take more time away than you can afford."

Hermione paused before following Ginny out.

"Are you sure you'll be all right? I could send Varvara -"

"No!" His eyes flashed. He closed them. "I believe I shall sleep."

He waited till their footsteps and voices died away before standing up. His eyes lingered on the quill but his hand reached instead for his wand. There was no time. Already his fingers, grey-tipped, were almost too stiff to curl around it. Besides he'd said everything before in that other letter; love, apologies for all the times he'd hurt her, wishes for her happiness.

He scowled down at his nightshirt and bare legs. He hated the thought of wandering around so exposed but a disillusionment spell would have to do. Even had he the time to dress, he no longer had the ability. Fortunately there were shortcuts and hidden paths. If only he could get to the Apparition point, he could go where she would never find him. Perhaps wade out into the sea and let the waters wash him clean.