Chapter Six
The trip to the cemetery had been uneventful. Severus had stood outside the small stone wall that surrounded the gravestones and watched, with a heavy heart, as his wife wept openly over the graves as she had done so many years before. He had come across her then and had snarled at her to get on with her life. At the time, he had had no idea that that life would soon include him. Maybe that meeting in the graveyard had been a catalyst. She had respected him before, maybe even felt an attraction for him, but he had proved himself as just another human being that day.
"Please, Miss Granger, crying will not bring back the dead. You are left alive and you have a responsibility to make sure their sacrifices were not in vain. They did not give their lives so that you could spend the rest of yours sniffling and feeling sorry for yourself."
She looked up from where she was kneeling. "Excuse me?" she asked astonished.
"I believe you heard me."
"What would you know about it, Snape?"
"I'm here, aren't I? But unlike you I am here to honor the dead, not to feel sorry for myself." She paled at his words. He could see that she was biting her lip to keep from saying something she might regret.
She took a deep breath, visibly calmer, and asked, "Who are you here for?"
"For my students. The ones I couldn't save—Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott—those who stood up not only to the Dark Lord, but to their families as well. They had already lost everything before they fell, but they fought anyway. For Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom who gave their lives so that we might continue ours in peace."
A choked sob threatened to escape as he contemplated their deaths, as he spelled out what that meant to this Gryffindor before him. The guilt ate at him daily. He had said nothing to them, fearing that he might give away his position as a spy. He had stood back and watched as two brave Gryffindors, young adults who had their whole lives stretched before them, die needlessly while he did nothing. He told her not to feel sorry for herself, but even in that, he was a hypocrite. Could he do nothing right in this life? He didn't deserve to be here, no more than anyone else.
He turned away, hiding his pain from her. It was a weakness; something he refused to show her. When he turned back, she was looking at him with understanding in her eyes. She didn't say anything, but had just nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. A month later, she had shown up at his door with her questions.
Severus hadn't lectured her this time, but he did take the time to place flowers on his Slytherin students' graves. They may have died, but in the end, they had been freed. No one would ever own them as the Dark Lord had owned him, and for that, they deserved to be honored. When Hermione was ready to leave, he escorted her home. It had been another quiet evening, but it wasn't as heavy. She had been right again in that she needed to know. And now that she did, she could move on, she could recover.
Eager to move on to other things, they both threw themselves into researching the possible whereabouts of Mulciber, and Hermione had been reading about money transfers in the Muggle and Magic world alike to see if there was anything that might help lead them to Malfoy. A week later, Severus found himself in a dark Muggle suit, mulling over what he would say, and possibly do, to Mulciber when he found him. He only hoped this was the right place. He didn't know if he would ever forgive Hermione if she sent him out to the wrong place.
It went without saying that Severus hated the Muggle world. And despite the fact that Hermione was Muggle-born, he had been spared the duty of meeting her parents. He supposed their status as orphans in the world had something to do with their connection to each other, but he was glad nonetheless. Not that he would ever say that to her, of course. She had loved her parents, whereas he had despised his. The fact that they were gone was where the similarities ended.
Hermione had tracked him down to a small establishment in the south of England.
"He owns a 'gentlemen's club,'" she had told him. She had explained about the women when he had cocked his eyebrow. It was then that he decided that she would not accompany him.
"But I was an Auror. I have special training. I bet I have dealt with tons of Death Eaters, and I know for a fact that I have dealt with this one before."
"You only oversaw his release from Azkaban. I know this man, Hermione. I know how to get answers from him, and believe me, it is not with my wife standing at my side."
She had glared at him angrily before leaving the room in a huff, but she hadn't said anything more when he left. At least in her sixth year mindset she was more willing to submit to his authority. His Hermione would never have allowed him to be so high handed with her. But he would not put her in any further danger if Mulciber did turn out to be the one that had did this to her.
Apparating to the location Hermione had provided him, Severus found himself in a car park. A dismal gray building with garish neon lights stood in front of him. Entering, he fingered his wand. The inside was dark, smoky, and just as dreadful as the outside had promised. A bar was at one end of the room. A few middle aged men, their bellies overflowing out of their trousers, drank beers and watched lazily as a few scantily clad women danced on a stage.
'It's the middle of the day; don't these men have jobs?' Snape thought. But he didn't ponder the matter long as he sighted the former Death Eater.
"Mulciber, how nice to see you," Severus said, laying emphasis on the word so as to convey that he thought quite the opposite. The last time he had seen the man, he had been using the Imperius Curse on a young Muggle girl.
"Snape, what are you doing here?" He looked surprised and a little worried.
'Good,' Severus thought, 'he should be worried.'
"Well, I'm certainly not here for the show," he said with a sneer, looking at the poorly clad girls up and down before turning back to Mulciber.
"I thought Muggles were your style. I heard you married a Mudblood," Mulciber said, never looking away from the dancers.
"That's what I'm here about actually."
"Looking for a new wife? I always knew you had trouble with the ladies, but Muggles, Severus?" Snape bit his tongue, reigning in his anger. They would get nowhere if he killed Mulicber before getting any information from him. Better to beat him at his own game.
"You seem to be doing just fine," he said, pausing to let it sink in. He noted with satisfaction at the small frown that crossed Mulciber's face. Clearly, if he had any choice, Muggle women would not be his primary company.
"Amazing really after all our fellow compatriots ended up in Azkaban or worse, but somehow you escaped with only exile," Severus continued.
"We were not compatriots, you blood traitor," Mulciber said, wheeling around to face Severus at last.
"I did what I had to do to survive," Severus said. Looking Mulciber up and down, he continued, "And so did you it seems."
"It could be better," Mulciber answered with a sigh, his anger quickly forgotten. "I'm lucky the Ministry is full of brainless twits with no strength of will."
"So you used an Imperius Curse to keep you out of Azkaban?" Severus asked.
"Just a mild one, suggesting that I face lesser charges. I couldn't get rid of them completely of course, that would have been too suspicious. I almost laughed at the confusion on the Minister of Magic's face when he realized I was being charged with assault only. But what could he do when the Auror's report clearly stated that I had nothing to do with the rest of it."
"I would think exile extreme then," Severus commented.
"Yes, well, he had his bit of revenge with that," Mulciber said bitterly. "But it could be worse." He looked thoughtfully back at the dancers, whose tops had since come off. "What do you want, Snape?"
"I want to know where you were September 23rd?"
"Whatever for?"
"Answer the question, Mulciber," Severus said menacingly.
"I was here, like always. I have a business to run. It consumes a lot more time without house-elves or even a wand for simple spells." Severus stared at him, trying to sense if the former Death Eater was lying. It appeared he was telling the truth, but just to be sure, Severus continued.
"You weren't in London, near the Ministry?"
"No, why would I go there? If they see me anywhere near Wizarding establishments I'll be packing my bags for Azkaban. This isn't paradise, but it's not a bad life, and I'm not willing to risk it. Now you tell me why you want to know."
"My wife was attacked. She handled your release from Azkaban. Perhaps you are upset that you couldn't 'convince' her that you should be allowed to stay in the Wizarding world."
"Was that your wife? She introduced herself as Hermione Granger. Didn't even take your name, I see. I don't blame her, who would want to be a Snape after your fall from grace. Although as a Mudblood, I guess you're her hero. Is that how you got into her knickers, Snape? It certainly wasn't your charm or good looks," Mulciber taunted.
Enraged, Severus grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the wall. "You'll do well to remember that I am the one with the wand here, not you."
"Oh, I remember, Snape. I never forget," Mulciber said, even as he gasped for air.
"Tell me what I want to know," he demanded, increasing his grip.
"It wasn't me. Ask the girls if you need to," Mulciber choked out.
"I just might do that," Severus said, releasing him. Mulicber collapsed back against the wall, gasping for air and massaging his neck. "Just out of curiosity, did you try to use the Curse on Hermione when you were released?"
"It wouldn't have mattered. She would have had to change the Minister's mind. Besides, I was too weak then to perform any magic, let alone an Imperius Curse."
"She's too strong minded for such nonsense anyway. I imagine that's why they assigned her the case in the first place."
Mulciber shrugged, pulling his clothes back into place. "Is that all?"
"Yes," Severus answered, turning and heading for the door. When he reached it, he turned and looked back at Mulciber, "Good luck with the Muggles."
He smirked at the frown the other man gave. Severus had thought about Obliviating him, but decided that it would be better if the man remembered his small brush with the world he was no longer a part of; it would be more painful that way, and nothing he didn't deserve. But other than that, the night had been unproductive. He had learned nothing other than that Mulciber was not the man they were after. He could be a cold-blooded killer, a master in Muggle torture but he also valued his life and wouldn't risk the Dementor's Kiss if he was seen anywhere London. Just to be sure, Snape stopped a young woman getting out of her car.
"Do you work here?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I just dance, that's all."
"Was your boss, Mr. Mulciber, here on the 23rd of September?"
"Yeah, why do you want to know?"
"Obliviate," he said, rather than give an answer. She stared at him vacantly before turning and going inside. Once she was gone, Severus Apparated back to Hogsmeade.
"How did it go?" Hermione asked the moment he walked through the door. She had never had much patience.
"He's not the one," he said, throwing himself down on the couch. She sat in one of the armchairs, a frown on her face.
"Then Malfoy is our best guess."
"It appears that way. Have you found anything that might be helpful?"
"No, it's just like Harry says. The money just disappears after the orphanage," she said. "I think we should visit it. The orphanage, I mean. We could pose as potential donors or parents who are looking to adopt, poke around a bit. The only reason Harry hasn't yet is because the Ministry refuses to pay for it. As long as Draco stays out of the UK, then they don't care what he does."
"That's a good idea. It will have to over the holidays though, when I can get away from class."
"Speaking of the holidays, the Weasleys have invited us for Christmas," she said nonchalantly, picking up her book.
"And?" he growled.
"I said we would be there. From what I understand they invite us every year."
"And every year, you respectfully decline. We spend the holiday here together and you go to the Burrow for the New Year," he said, frowning.
"Hmmm, that explains why Molly was so excited when I accepted. We can't back out now. Besides it will be nice to be around a crowd of people for Christmas."
What she really meant was that she didn't want to be with him alone on the holiday. But immediately he berated himself for being so harsh. In her mind, she had just lost her parents in the last several months, in addition to the stress of losing her memories and learning she was married to him. The Weasleys were the closest thing she had to family at the moment. It was selfish of him to want her all to himself. Of course, she didn't remember what it was like to be married. His Hermione would never have asked something of him like this, knowing that he would expect her to reciprocate by doing something equally distasteful to her. He wondered if he would be able to use this to his advantage later on or should he just refuse to go?
"Do you really want me there?" he asked.
"Yes. I mean I just thought that…it never occurred to me that you wouldn't."
"Your memory loss must be worse than we originally thought," he quipped. She bit her lip, looking away. It was always that way with her; one look was enough to undo him.
"I will go with you," he said softer. She turned back to him and smiled. Its brilliance lit up the room, and he knew that he had done the right thing. It was moments like these that he understood the meaning of love. She had been through so much recently; the least he could do is accompany her to the Burrow for Christmas, no matter how awful the idea appeared to him. More importantly than that was the fact that she wanted him to accompany her. It was another small step in the right direction.