Chapter Ten
Hermione had nodded and smiled at Severus when he mentioned that they had yet to follow her suggestion and visit the orphanage where Narcissa had been sending her money.
"I wasn't sure you still wanted to," she admitted.
"We will find who did this to you. Whatever spell they used might be the key to unlocking your memory," he said. And when they had found out that, then he would make sure they died a painful and horrible death, but he kept that part to himself. He wanted Hermione to know that he would do anything to protect her, but he didn't think she would look fondly on any idea that included more violence than was absolutely warranted, especially not in her name. But that was besides the point. They first had to locate the miscreants. He wasn't entirely convinced it was Malfoy who had done this to her, but if she had come close to finding him and bringing him to justice then she was lucky she walked away at all. Both Lucius and Draco were known for their brutality.
Severus arranged for a Portkey that would take them to the gate right outside.
"Ready?" he asked, holding out an empty glass bottle.
"Yes," she said. He certainly hoped so. Up until this point, she had contributed only with her research. He sincerely hoped that this would not be too much stress for her. He didn't want to return early because she suddenly couldn't remember her name.
He nodded, and she took hold of the bottle. He felt the familiar pull at his navel and in the next moment, they were standing outside a tall wrought iron gate. Hermione pushed it open, cringing at the creak of rusty metal on rusty metal. They walked several minutes before anything came into view.
The orphanage, in Severus's opinion, was terrifying--a large Victorian home which creaked and swayed in the wind, reminding him of the Shrieking Shack. Small children, dressed in threadbare clothes ran shrieking through the yard while a large furry dog sat on the porch overseeing the mayhem. Hermione and Severus picked their way through the throng of children who had stopped to watch them make their way to the door. Upon reaching the porch, the dog let out a menacing growl until Hermione explained that they were there to speak to the matron.
The inside of the house was no better, dark hallways crowded with more children and a smell Severus tried hard not to place.
"This is horrible," he heard Hermione whisper. He placed a firm hand at her back to guide her.
"Stay focused on the task at hand," he said softly, satisfied to see her nod.
"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Snape, a pleasure to see you," a wiry woman with graying hair said, meeting them halfway down the hall. She reminded Severus of Sybill Trelawney with her many gold and silver bangles. The only thing that she was missing were the large glasses.
"It's Professor and Mrs. Snape actually," Hermione corrected, holding out her hand.
"Of course. My name is Estrilda Wondergood. Won't you come into my office," she said, ushering them through the door she had just exited. The office was much nicer than anything they had seen thus far with thick oriental rugs, bright cheery lamps, and a large mahogany desk.
"What brings you here today?" Ms. Wondergood asked, motioning them to sit in the two chairs in front of her desk.
"We heard of your establishment through a friend of ours...Narcissa Malfoy to be exact," Hermione began.
"Ah yes, Mrs. Malfoy is one of our biggest contributors. Are you looking to adopt?" Hermione began to answer but Severus cut her off.
"My wife is unable to have children, and both our professions preclude a stable home for a child. But it would ease the ache in her heart if she could volunteer some of her time." Ms. Wondergood's smile drooped a bit as the prospect of more money from the rich friends of the Malfoys faded.
"Your time? Well certainly, that might be arranged. There are, of course, safety regulations and a mountain of paperwork to be taken care of; we can't leave the children with just anyone, you understand. But I'm sure with the right words to the right people that shouldn't be a problem at all," she simpered, her smile brightening once again.
"How much?" Severus asked sharply. Ms. Wondergood looked shocked and slightly appalled that Severus would disturb her delicate sensibilities by mentioning money in front of her.
"Well, there are fees involved of course in securing the right authorization. It's what you have to put up these days."
"Indeed," he said dryly. "How much?"
"Two thousand galleons," she said quickly.
"What?" Hermione gasped. Severus reached over and placed his hand on her knee to silence her. Luckily, she took the hint.
"Fine. Whatever it takes," he purred, noticing with satisfaction at how Wondergood's smile drooped once more when she realized she could have and should have asked for more.
"May we have a tour?" Hermione asked, still trying to hide her disgust at what had just transpired.
"Certainly."
Ms. Wondergood ushered them from the room back into the dark hallway. She showed them to several dirty rooms filled with unmade beds and disheveled children. Rattling on, she complained about the prices of everything, from food to medicine to school supplies, but Severus made a concerted effort to drown her out. Instead, he concentrated on Hermione who was becoming more and more agitated the more they saw. He held her hand, rubbing calming circles in her palm, but it appeared not to work as it had so many times in the past. She let go as a small child ran up to her, grabbing her round the legs.
"Will you take me home with you?" the small urchin asked. Severus couldn't distinguish if it were a boy or a girl, but he looked at Hermione scornfully as she scooped it up in her arms. She had no idea where the child had been. It could be carrying diseases!
"Not today, sweet pea, but I want to come back for a visit. Would you like that?" The child nodded so enthusiastically that Severus was afraid its head might pop off. Hermione giggled.
"Good. We'll play all sorts of games. What do you think?"
"Yes! You promise?" Its excited look quickly changed to suspicious.
"I promise," Hermione said, leaning over and kissing its cheek before setting it down. For one moment, it looked as though it might try to elicit a similar promise from Severus, but he gave it a pointed stare and it scurried off into the dark hallway instead.
"So it's not just Hogwarts students that you detest," she said to him, coming back to stand next to him. Wondergood had left them behind, still rattling on about the prices of things and not noticing that they had stopped following her.
"I don't discriminate between age, race, or nationality. I have a universal dislike for children," he told her, taking her hand in his again and leading her through the room.
"At least you're consistent," she muttered, following him. But he felt certain that she tried to talk, kiss, or hug every child they came across before they left just to spite him. Two excruciatingly long hours later, they walked back across the lawn, past the shaggy baby-sitter and out the gate to Apparate home.
"That's horrible!" she ranted as they walked back to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade. "It's despicable! She shouldn't be allowed to run a place like that! All two thousand of those galleons are going straight into her pocket..."
He let her vent for a while, amused like he always was at her vehemence, remembering times when it was both directed at him and for him.
"After we have determined whether or not she knows anything about Draco then I'll send some well-placed owls to both the proper authorities as well as some past associates."
"You mean?"
"Whatever it takes, Hermione. Surely you agree that those children deserve better." She nodded, falling silent; no doubt thinking about the inattention and lonely existence the orphans faced every day. Severus did agree with her on that point. He knew what it was like to be unloved, to grow up neglected. The Dark Lord had come from just such a place and look how he had turned out. Even if this turned out to be another dead end, Severus was determined to make sure that the two thousand galleons he had promised would go to making those children's lives better and not to buy more bangles for Estrilda Wondergood.
Hermione was silent all their way back to the castle. Her ranting apparently finished, she had little left to say. Severus could tell that she was pondering something, turning it over and over in her head, and he contemplated whether he should ask what it was or wait for her to tell him. It turned out he didn't have to wait; she asked as he was putting away his cloak.
"Is it true?" she asked. He looked at her puzzled, not understanding the question. "Can I really not have children?"
He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded.
"Oh." She bit her lip, trying hard to dam the flood of tears. He saw one escape, making an iridescent track down her cheek. She turned away to hide the rest. Approaching her slowly, he placed his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down lightly.
"Your war injuries prevent you from carrying a child to term," he said quietly. She choked back a sob. His heart nearly burst at the sound of it. Would she have to relive every heartbreak? Would they never reach their happier memories? She turned to face him, and instinctively he put his arms around her, pulling her close.
"So we've tried?" He nodded even though it was only half the truth. They hadn't planned on her being pregnant. It had surprised them both and had unsettled him. He wasn't cut out to be a husband, let alone a father. His first thought when she told him the news was to be relieved, but then a second feeling crept in. A sadness enveloped him, and not just because Hermione had lost the bright look in her eyes for months after, but because he felt a genuine opportunity had been lost. A child could have been his redemption, his chance to prove to the world that he could produce something good.
"It's better this way. You had a dangerous career and I would be a terrible father." She stifled a giggle. "So you agree?"
"You wouldn't be terrible."
Your continued ability to see the best in people always amazes me, but you have to admit I wouldn't be the best," he said, taking his thumb and brushing away her tears.
"Not the best perhaps, but they always say its different when they're your own." He took hold of her hand that was fisted in his robes, pulling it up and kissing her knuckles lightly.
"Your continued confidence means the world to me." She blushed and looked away. And then inspiration hit. There was no reason that they stay here and dwell on unhappy events.
"Follow me," he said, summoning her cloak. He placed it on her shoulders. Shrugging his on, he grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"You'll see." He led her down by the greenhouses. Reaching a tall stone wall, he tapped three times with his wand an intricate pattern. The stones began to move, rearranging themselves until a doorway appeared. They followed a path to a small clearing where he conjured them a blanket, a basket of sandwiches, and two goblets of steaming hot cider.
"This is beautiful. I had no idea that this was here," she said. She turned around, taking in the plants that survived even in the winter.
"You didn't? You're the one that showed it to me. I suppose you discovered it sometime after your sixth year," he said, sitting down and motioning for her to do the same. She joined him on the blanket, her lips upturned in one of her glorious smiles.
"There are so many plants and flowers for the end of January," she commented.
"It's magically insulated like one of the greenhouses. But it's much wilder and freer here since no students come in here. I'm not sure even Pomona knows about its existence."
"Thank you for bringing me," she said quieter, her hand snaking over and covering his. He turned his up, giving it a squeeze, before letting go and handing her a sandwich.
"You seemed to need some cheering up," he said, watching her take a large bite.
She swallowed hard. "I did after the orphanage today."
"You reminded me of the old Hermione back there today," he said, taking a sip of his cider.
"I did?" she asked looking at him puzzled.
"I suspect you have taken up a new cause today. Poor, hopeless, orphans will now have to suffer your attentions as you try and convince them that they have at least one person in the world that loves them."
"I do not take up causes, as you put it," she said indignantly, ripping into her sandwich.
"Yes you do--SPEW, me, and now the orphans," he said with mock disdain. She stopped chewing, staring at him.
"You?" she said after she finally swallowed.
"Haven't you been listening when I've been telling you the story of how we came together?"
"Yes of course I have, it's just that...you're not a cause. And it was S.P.E.W. by the way," she said turning her nose up. He snorted at her. And then he had an idea. He didn't have to tell her their story; she could see it herself. Hadn't he watched happier moments in their marriage when they had fought over Christmas?
"We could use the Pensieve," he offered, wondering why he had not thought of this possibility before. But she shook her head violently.
"No."
"You don't think it would be easier?"
"Have you ever watched yourself in a Pensieve for a memory you didn't have?" He shook his head. "It's a very unsettling feeling, like watching a movie of your life except it's the first time you've seen it."
"You've tried it?"
"With Harry and Ron. Besides, I like hearing you tell me. You're a natural storyteller. No, really," she said, noticing his surprise. "I always loved listening to you lecture even about the most mundane things."
"So you thought I was boring?" he teased, secretly pleased to learn that she still found him intriguing.
"No, I thought you were mean, but you could give me the shivers with just a whisper." He sidled up closer to her, his nose grazing her cheek, his mouth at her ear.
"Shall I continue where I left off?" he breathed. She did in fact shiver, nodding her approval.
She had recovered fully from her illness by the time the trial came around, something for which Severus was very grateful, although he remained suspicious.
"Are you sure someone didn't poison you," he asked as she went over their strategy the night before. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Poison? Have you lived so long as a spy that you see intrigues everywhere?" she asked sadly. She reached over and covered his hand with hers. "It was just a bad curry, Snape."
"Perhaps someone is trying to convince you not to work to help me," he said grumpy at her patronizing tone, wrenching his hand from her grasp. She had laughed off his concern, and he felt foolish for even bringing it up. It made him sound as if he cared for her well-being, which was decidedly untrue outside of how it affected him and this trial.
But the truth was that he was becoming accustomed to her presence in his life. He didn't like it, no not that, but he was used to her waiting for him in his chambers each evening. But the trial started tomorrow and he would soon be in Azkaban or back at Hogwarts, alone either way. The prospect frightened him more than a little. However, he concentrated on the impending rather than on the hopeless.
"Did someone poison me?" Hermione asked, interrupting. "Considering what has happened since."
"I don't know. Looking back, it's possible. But there's no way to tell now," he told her. He moved the arm that was stretched out behind her to lightly touch her at her waist. She responded by moving back into his embrace, leaning into his chest.
"But what happened at the trial?" she asked, twisting her head around.
"As I was saying…"
The day of the trial, Severus parted ways with Hermione in the foyer of the Ministry. She hurried down to organize her papers and such, while he was escorted by Ministry guards. He was thankful every day that they had released him on his own recognizance and had not imprisoned him in Azkaban while awaited trial. Entering the courtroom, he tried to ignore the crowds of people that made up the gallery or the eyes of the judges as they stared down at him from their elevated positions. Instead, he focused on getting to his chair without tripping.
Sitting down, the chains on the chair rattled ominously but stayed where they were. He breathed in and out deeply, trying hard to regulate his breathing. Concentrating on Hermione, he blocked out the crowd, the judges, and even the chair with its chains threatening to imprison him at a moments notice.
She was truly magnificent. He hadn't realized just how much until this moment as he watched her present his defense. She called the Weasleys and Lupin as witnesses. She questioned Ollivander about the possibility of his wand being stolen and then replaced.
"I suppose it's possible," the wrinkled old wandmaker admitted. "But someone else's wand wouldn't work as well. Each wand is specific to each witch or wizard."
"Yes, but it's possible to cast spells with another wand, is it not? They just aren't as strong usually."
"Yes."
"And when testing which spells that had been cast, the quality of the spell cannot be measured, correct?"
"No, it just tells us what spell was cast."
"So you cannot be certain that it was Severus Snape that cast the spell, can you?"
"Well when you put it like that, I suppose not. Not 100 percent, anyway."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."
She tore apart Macnair's accusations that he was a loyal Death Eater. Standing in front of the Death Eater, she maintained rigid control. Her Gryffindor courage betraying none of the fear and nervousness he knew she must feel. She had confessed as much the night before. But she battled on, proving her points with unfailing accuracy.
"What will you receive for your testimony today?" she asked.
"I don't understand your meaning."
"I think you do. What did the Ministry offer you in return for naming fellow Death Eaters?"
"Leniency," he grunted reluctantly.
"Who else did you name?"
"Mulciber, Amycus, the Lestranges..." he said, trailing off.
"So essentially people who have already been convicted?"
"I didn't know that at the time!" he argued.
"But after you found out that your bid for freedom had failed you played the last card you had in your hand, the last Death Eater that you knew had yet to be convicted...Snape." Macnair didn't answer but just sat glaring at her from his cruel eyes.
"Is there a question in there, Miss Granger," Dolores Umbridge said in her sickly sweet voice. Hermione snapped her head around, her gaze moving from Macnair to the judges sitting above.
"I suppose not. But I would ask the esteemed members of this court to consider giving greater weight to the testimony of the Order of the Phoenix members and indeed to Headmaster Dumbledore than to a convicted Death Eater who will do and say anything to avoid a harsher punishment."
Umbridge opened her toady mouth to respond, but Scrimgeour beat her to it. "Duly noted, Miss Granger. We will return with our verdict tomorrow morning."
Hermione nodded deferentially, and returned to Snape's side. The courtroom erupted into a cacophony of noise as those seating in the gallery began to move about, discussing what they had just seen.
"Now we wait," she said, her voice only now showing any sign of fatigue or nerves.
"Yes, now we wait," he agreed, looking at the door the judges were disappearing into.
"You aren't going to tell me the verdict?" she cried when she realized that he had finished, at least for the moment.
"You can't divine the outcome from me sitting here?" he asked sarcastically. She harrumphed.
"Maybe I arranged a prison break. If Sirius could do it, then certainly you and I together could have managed it."
"That would make for a more interesting story, but that's not what happened."
"So what did happen?"
"That, my dear, is for another time. I think now we should discuss what we learned at the orphanage today." She frowned at him, looking very petulant, but she answered anyway.
"We know Narcissa is definitely contributing, but that not much of it, if any, is going to the orphans. I think for the right price, Estrilda Wondergood would hide Draco or send money onto him wherever he is."
"Exactly my thoughts, which is why I think you volunteering there will be an excellent way to find out anything more. If we had asked any other questions today, she might have become suspicious. She still might if she mentions our names to Narcissa. We certainly aren't the friends we claimed to be."
"I should hope not," Hermione sniffed.
Severus nodded coolly. She always forgot that the Malfoys had been his friends, or the closest he had ever gotten to such a thing. Just because he had turned his back on the Dark Lord didn't mean that he spurned all of his former associates. But she had never understood that. She could look at him and only see the good parts, but she couldn't do the same for other Death Eaters. As a Muggle-born and a friend of Potter, he knew that he was lucky that she accepted him at all, let alone as her lover and friend.
"Narcissa lost a husband and a son in one fell swoop. I wouldn't blame her if she did anything she could to help Draco," he said.
He wondered what she might have said if Lucius had survived the war, but he had been married to her long enough to know not to say anymore. Especially with her sitting so close, leaning into his side as she was.
"Even if he is the one who did this to me?" she asked, stiffening in his loose embrace.
Severus tensed. "If he is the one who did this to you, then he will need all the help he can get when I am through with him." She nodded, but the atmosphere had suddenly turned thick and awkward, and he didn't know what to say. The light mood they had before as he talked about their shared history had been lost.
"You're shivering," he said, noticing suddenly that she was shaking slightly. "It's too cold out here, even with the magical insulation. You should have said something," he admonished.
"I'm fine, and I would have said something if it was a big deal," she said, frowning at his tone. He knew that he sounded more like Professor Snape than Severus just then. Even still he pulled her closer, wrapping his cloak around them both and rubbing his hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm her up.
"Y-You're s-smothering me," she said, her voice staccato but muted from his efforts. He stilled, but didn't loosen his hold on her. Her hair tickled his face, and he nosed his way through it until his cheek rested against hers. He could sit like this forever, he thought, with her in his arms in this ramshackle garden. He should tell her that, both Minerva and Dumbledore had told him to tell her about his feelings. He had never been a demonstrative man, but it didn't make his love for her any less real.
"If you won't go in, then I will be forced to keep you warm myself," he said instead.
"Am I allowed to breathe?" she asked indignantly even as she settled back against his chest.
"If you must."
"I'm afraid it's essential."
"As long as you're not too loud about it then," he said with a smirk. She stifled a giggle.
They sat that way for several long moments. It was still quiet but the oppressive mood of before had lifted. Severus concentrated on the feeling of having Hermione in his arms, the fresh flowery scents of the gardens, and the sounds of various birds and other creatures moving among the brush. He was trying to place the flower bush next to them, (he was certain it was used in more obscure Pain Potions but he couldn't remember what it was called,) when he noticed that Hermione's teeth were clattering.
"Severus, I…"
"You're still cold. We should go inside," he said brusquely, standing and pulling her up. She was brushing off her robes when it registered that she had started to say something.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing," she muttered. "It was nothing." They walked back to the castle holding hands, but as she told him about an article she had read about the history of hellebore, he couldn't help but wonder if he had missed something in his attempt to protect her from the cold.
A/N: Thanks to Larilee for beta-reading.