Chapter Fifteen
This had been about him. Hermione hadn't been attacked because she had come close to discovering Malfoy. Nor because Percy was upset at her refusal. She had been attacked because of him, his past crimes. The weight of this discovery washed over Severus, nearly drowning him in despair. He didn't deserve her. He had never deserved her.
"I'm the one you want, Moody. Let her go." He watched Moody in the doorway, his wand drawn and ready. Moody may be old, but he was still sharp, and as paranoid as he was, he was very dangerous.
"Come in and we'll discuss it," Moody answered, backing into the room and standing next to where Hermione sat bound. Severus entered cautiously. The room was a wreck. Furniture was shoved into corners, half-empty bottles of Ogden's Firewhisky lay in piles around the room, and a wealth of Foe-Glasses, Sneakoscopes, and Secrecy Sensors whined and rattled.
"Are you hurt?" Severus asked Hermione.
"No," she answered softly, shaking her head. He could tell she was frightened. Moody had taken her by surprise. Much like the first time, Severus surmised.
"What do you want, Moody?" he demanded.
"I want justice," the old Auror hissed. "You've escaped Azkaban too many times to count, Snape."
So that was what this was about. He had never believed him even after Dumbledore had vouched for him. He had protested his membership in the Order of the Phoenix. He had protested using any of the valuable information that Snape had risked his life to get. And he had protested him not being sent to prison.
"He's innocent," Hermione cried, struggling against the ropes that held her to the chair.
"He's hardly innocent, girl," Moody snarled, his wand still pointed squarely at Severus' chest.
"He was working for the Order," she argued.
"No, he was playing both sides, waiting to see who would win before choosing. Isn't that right, Snape?"
It was right. He had waited until the final moment, until Potter had killed the Dark Lord before making his allegiances known to the world. But he couldn't say that, couldn't just hand Moody ammunition like that. And he didn't dare admit that to Hermione—to his beloved wife, who just now trusted him again.
"That's in the past. We've moved on. The world has moved on. It's time for you to move on too, Alastor."
"I will move on when I've had justice, Snape. When the world recognizes you as the traitor and Death Eater that you truly are!"
"But why bring innocents into this? Why hurt Hermione? What has she ever done?" he asked, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. He was getting desperate. He couldn't fire off any curses at Moody without risking hitting Hermione.
"She helped you get off the first time, despite the overwhelming evidence I provided the Wizengamot with. You fooled them, just like you fooled her," Moody spat.
"That was you?" Hermione asked.
"They wouldn't listen when I told them that he was crooked, that Death Eaters don't just grow consciences. So I gave them something they couldn't ignore. Except that you came along and made sure they did just that, you meddlesome girl!" His hand twitched as his tone escalated. "And then I found other evidence—"
"What evidence?" Severus demanded. There was no other evidence. Anything that could implicate him as a supporter of the Dark Lord was easily explained away with his spying duties.
"I found a document, a journal to be more precise, from a woman claiming to be your lover during the war. She had written down all sorts of juicy confessions you made while in her bed, Snape." Severus stood aghast. There had been no woman. Nothing but quick dalliances until Hermione, certainly no one he would have confided in. "I brought it to the Ministry myself, dropped it off anonymously, and waited for news of a new trial."
"What happened to it?" Severus asked panicked. Even if it wasn't real, combined with the other evidence the Wizengamot could have a convincing circumstantial case against him. But if they had the journal, then why hadn't they acted yet. It had been months since then, and this was the first Severus was hearing of it.
"I destroyed it," Hermione said in a flat voice. She blinked, and looked up at Moody.
"What?" Severus stared at her. Had she remembered something else?
"You made it up. You created it just like you did the Envoyas Spell," Hermione accused him.
"That's what you said the first time. And I had to erase your memory. I couldn't have you going around telling people that."
"I thought I had seen you in London, and then that journal turned up. It was too big of a coincidence. I had to investigate. I went looking for you."
"But I found you first," Moody continued. "When you wouldn't listen to reason, I was forced to do something drastic." He chuckled at the memory of it, making him sound as mad as his moniker claimed him to be.
"I knew it was you the first time around. But I didn't say anything. You were a respected Auror, driven mad by the war. I didn't think you deserved to go on trial for falsifying evidence against Severus. We were happy. And you lived alone where you couldn't hurt anyone else, but then that diary showed up—" Hermione recounted.
"If you would have just stayed out the way. If you would have just married Weasley instead of this Death Eater, none of this would have happened," Moody said with a tremor in his voice. He sounded almost remorseful, for what, Severus was afraid to find out.
"But why bring her here now?" Severus asked. He was still confused on this point. Moody had barely escaped being caught the last time. Why risk it again? But mad men have no common sense, driven only by their obsessive desires, in Moody's case, his desire to see Snape convicted.
"To kill her. I'll make it look like you did it. The members of the Wizengamot can hardly ignore a dead body, can they? The idea came to me the first time I captured her. I held her for days, waiting for you to make your move. But you never came looking for her, did you? So I had to Obliviate her instead," Moody answered with a gleam in his eye.
"You held her for a week?" Severus asked, feigning disbelief, anything to keep the old man talking. "I don't believe you. I've lived with her long enough to know that that would be near impossible. If you could restrain her for that time period, she would drive you batty with her constant nattering."
Hermione gave an indignant huff, and Severus' eyes moved from Moody's wand to her face. He desperately wanted to be able to tell her that it was the truth. She had driven him batty every moment he had known her, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He would hardly be able to tell he was alive otherwise. Somehow, she got the message, because the corners of her lips crept up the slightest bit, and she mouthed the words he loved to hear.
I love you.
It was two seconds, at the most. But he cherished them. With a slight nod, he turned his full attention back to Moody who was speaking.
"She's a fighter all right. I kept her stunned most of the time. She went with me easy enough at first. Said she wanted to 'discuss' some things. I brought her back here, held her until the Ministry made a move on the journal. When nothing happened for days, I woke her up and asked her what she had done. That's when I decided to kill her, but I needed you. And you never came looking for her."
"Is that true?" Hermione whispered. His heart fell. He could lose her tonight in more ways than one if he wasn't careful.
"I thought you had left me, Hermione. I couldn't bear the thought of you with another man, but I didn't want to come between you and your happiness if that's what you decided," Severus said. She bit her lip, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
"You wouldn't have fought for me?"
"I am now." How he wanted to take her into his arms and reassure her. He hadn't been certain of her love before, not through any fault of her own, but because he had never let himself acknowledge just how much he needed her. To say it, to even think it would be admitting a weakness. And in doing that, he had missed how much she needed him in return.
"Enough!" Moody barked. "It's time to end this."
He pointed his wand at Hermione. Severus' heart pounded in his chest and his mouth went dry. He knew it would only take two words from the old man. Two words and he would be alone in the world, without his best friend, his lover, his one and only ally.
"You would kill me when I've done nothing wrong?" Hermione asked, her voice soft and low.
"Aiding and abetting a known Death Eater is an offense punishable by a Dementor's Kiss. And since the courts refuse to do their duty, then I shall do it for them."
"Then you are not the Alastor Moody that I knew of, the one who would rather take a Death Eater in by sheer force than use an Unforgivable." That gave the Auror pause.
And it was just enough time for Severus to throw a hex. Moody wheeled around, his reflexes like a cat, and threw up a shield. Severus' spell bounced off it, and he had to dart to the side from being hit with it himself. Ducking Moody's own curse, he straightened back up and summoned all the hatred he could muster.
"Avada Ke—"
"Noooo!" Hermione screamed at him. She bounced back and forth in her chair, trying to get away from their dueling. "You'll only prove his point!" she yelled as he threw up his own shield against Moody's onslaught. He remembered her words in Diagon Alley.
"I'll kill him!"
"Then you'll go to Azkaban and leave me alone."
He would not let that happen. He would fight for her like the honorable and brave man she believed him to be. He would prove himself worthy of her love.
The two circled the room, exchanging curse after curse. The Sneakoscopes whined and smoke from the various hexes filled the room, beginning to make it difficult to see. Severus's skin burned as boils rose up on his arms and face. Blood dripped from Moody's nose and from other slashes across his chest.
"Not afraid to die are you, Snape? Your Death Eater friends aren't here to save you this time, nor the Order of the Phoenix." Moody taunted. "Are you afraid to show the world what you really are? A cowardly traitor."
He wasn't afraid to die. He wasn't even in this moment afraid of bearing his soul to the world. He was most afraid that Moody would indeed succeed in killing Hermione.
"I'm certainly not afraid of you, old man!" he snarled in return. "Though you're hardly a man, preying on an unarmed woman who trusted you."
Moody didn't respond but threw another curse, this time a Tarantella Spell. Severus tripped over some bottles, his feet moving in a frantic dance pattern beyond his control.
"Watch out!" Hermione screamed in warning as he righted himself.
"Protego," he shouted just in time to deflect Moody's Slashing Hex. But the curse bounced off his shield and across the room, hitting Hermione square in the chest. With nothing to defend herself, the force of the blow knocked her and her chair over.
Severus stood and cast a Confundus Charm. Moody stumbled backwards, grabbing onto the wall for support.
"What's going on here?" he asked.
"Petrificus Totalus," Severus said, watching with satisfaction as the old man toppled forward and landed on his broken nose. He rushed over to Hermione. She had lost a lot of blood, the gashes down her chest and stomach oozed with blood. A small puddle had collected on the floor next to her. She was trembling, and her face was pale as a sheet so that even her lips were void of color.
"Hold on, Hermione. Let me get you out of these," he said, murmuring the charm that released the ropes. She slid out of the chair and into his arms.
"Severus," she moaned.
"I'm here, I'm here. You're going to be fine," he said. He gently laid her down on the floor. Taking off his cloak, he wrapped her in it. She was going into shock, and he needed to get her to St. Mungo's as soon as possible.
"I love you," she moaned.
"I love you too," he answered. "Now I'm going to take you to the hospital where they are going to fix you up right, and when we get back to Hogwarts I'll shag you wherever you like." She smiled, but it wasn't enough to erase the pain sketched on her face. "Ready?"
She closed her eyes and nodded, bracing herself as he scooped her up into his arms.
He Apparated them into the lobby of St. Mungo's. "Help me! This is an emergency!" he called out as they popped into existence. Within moments, he was surrounded by Healers. They took her from his arms, and placed her on a stretcher.
"What happened?" a tall blond woman asked while two others frantically checked her vital signs. Her badge identified her as Joan Trauth, but she hardly looked competent to Severus. She seemed familiar. Had he taught her? Certainly, she couldn't be qualified or experienced enough for his Hermione. The other two wizards shouted out what seemed to be random numbers and foreign medical words, none of which sounded hopeful. Severus edged his way in between them, and took Hermione's hand in his. It was cold as ice, and she limply returned his hold.
"She was hit with a stray Slashing Hex," he answered the Healer, never taking his eyes off Hermione. "Will you ever forgive me?" he asked quietly. Guilt ate at him, the thought that all of this was because of him.
"I already have," she rasped. He choked back a sob. He liked to think he wasn't an emotional man. But it was moments like this when he could barely maintain control. He didn't deserve her. He never had.
"Everything is going to be just fine," he whispered to her, unsure of who he was trying to convince more, her or himself. She nodded weakly, her eyes drifting close.
"It looks bad. Did she have any protection at all?"
"No, none. She was tied to a chair."
"Someone send for an Auror as well," the Healer said, turning around to the welcome witch's desk.
"Potter," Severus said, finally turning away from Hermione. "She's a personal friend of Harry Potter. He's already working on this case." The Healer nodded. With a wave of her wand, she directed the stretcher down the hall through double swinging doors.
Severus tried to follow after her but a tall aide stopped him. "You can't go back there," he said.
Severus glared at him. "She is my wife!"
"I'm sorry, sir," he said, not looking very sorry at all.
"Let me through, I'm Severus Snape!"
"I don't care if you are the Queen of England herself, you're not getting through there. You can wait in the waiting room like everyone else." Severus scowled, turned on his heel, and threw himself into a chair. The aide smirked, satisfied in having done his duty and then sauntered through the doors after Hermione and her Healers.
Potter arrived half an hour later. Some old hag who claimed to be a Healer was trying to rid him of the boils Moody had left behind. Severus stood and pushed her away when he saw him, shaking with rage. She scurried off, no doubt tired of his griping, and frightened by this show of temper.
"You're too late, Potter," he spat. Why had that idiot boy not realized it had been Moody? They had been tracking Malfoy this whole time for nothing! For NOTHING!
"Is Hermione okay? Is she alive?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape's sarcasm.
"She was alive when I last saw her, though barely. No thanks to Alastor Moody."
"Moody? Mad-Eye Moody?" Potter stood with his mouth hanging open. "I—but how—why?" he stuttered.
"In some misguided attempt at revenge. He was trying to get at me. At ME! And now she's in there…." He sat down again, his legs no longer supporting him. The same traitorous thoughts that had plagued him from the moment he stood in front of that ramshackle hut threatened to overwhelm him, to turn him into a quivering wreck of emotion here in front of everyone in the waiting room, in front of Potter.
"Have they told you anything?" Harry asked.
Severus shook his head. "Nothing."
"Maybe they will talk to me," Potter said, marching off down the hall. Severus watched him go, for once not irritated with his arrogant swagger, hoping that this time it would work in his favor.
Slumping in his chair, he wished he had something to numb the pain. He couldn't handle this. It hurt too much. He knew—He knew when she kissed him that first time that it would not end well. Hadn't he warned her? But she refused to listen.
"You don't really want to stay with me," he said.
"Don't presume to know what I want, Severus Snape," she said imperiously.
"I'm old," he told her. She stepped closer and put her arms around him.
"I like to think of you as experienced. Think of all the things I can learn from you," she said. He snorted. Just like her to phrase it like that. Her curiosity was insatiable.
"I'm ugly," he argued even as his arms wrapped themselves around her and pulled her closer.
"I'm no beauty myself. I think we're even when it comes to hair, both equally bad." She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his beaky nose.
"I'm mean."
"I'm bossy."
"I'm not kidding, Hermione. I'm not a nice man," he said, pushing her away, although his hands remained at her waist.
"I don't want nice, Snape." She grabbed one of his hands, taking it in hers, bringing it to her lips. "I want brave, honorable, intelligent, funny, and sexy." With each word, she kissed a fingertip, slipping them between her lips. He shivered. How could he say no to that?
He couldn't and he didn't. He was none of those things she had listed, but he had ignored that, choosing to believe her. And looked where it had gotten her—her memories stolen and dying in a hospital.
Standing up abruptly, he startled some of the people around him, but he couldn't take it any longer. He couldn't sit here and do nothing. Except that he couldn't leave either. What if she needed him? He paced back and forth like a caged lion. Pouncing on Potter when he came back through the door, Severus grabbed him by the front of his robes.
"What did you find out?"
"They won't let me see her, but I did talk to her Healer," Harry answered, pulling away. "She's in critical condition, but they think she'll pull through," he told him as he straightened his collar.
"Can I see her?"
"Not yet. Not until morning," Harry said, looking sympathetic. "She's going to be fine. You have to believe that." Severus opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by multiple Apparations. Ron Weasley, Dumbledore, Minerva, Molly, and Arthur appeared in front of him, all of them still in their party wear.
"We got your owl. Is she okay?" Harry repeated what he had told Severus, and there was a collective sigh of relief.
"You don't have to stay," he grumbled when it appeared they were attempting to make themselves comfortable in the hard plastic seats. Dumbledore had gone as far as conjuring an armchair and was passing around a bowl of popcorn.
"Of course we do," Molly Weasley said with a pat on his arm. "We wouldn't let you sit out here to worry by yourself. You'd go crazy. I would." Her eyes glistened, and Severus knew he couldn't turn them away no matter how much he might want to. They loved and cared for Hermione too.
"She's a strong girl. She'll come through, I guarantee it," Arthur said.
Severus nodded, taking their unwanted comfort in stride. It was rather nicer to have someone else around, if nothing else for the benefit of having a distraction to block out. Tuning their meaningless chatter out, he concentrated on the happier memories of Hermione, like the first time she had shown him the hidden garden…
"Close your eyes," she commanded.
"I will do no such thing." He had no idea why they were standing in the cold in front of an empty wall in the first place. If her idea of a surprise included freezing to death, he wanted no part in it.
"You are no fun," she pouted.
"Of course I am, when I'm warm, well-fed, and preferably inside," he said, shivering. He blew on his hands in a poor attempt to warm them. Even his thick woolen mittens were doing nothing against the Scottish winter.
"You were just complaining the other day about the dreary grey weather, so I thought you might want a change." She began tapping her wand in an odd manner on the wall. Severus looked longingly back up towards the entrance to the castle.
"I complain about everything, surely you know this by now."
"Yes, I do. But if there is something to be done about it, then I will at least try. Now. Close. Your. Eyes."
He relented if only to keep from hearing her whine. The faster she showed him whatever it was the faster he could be back by his fire. And since she seemed to be in an obliging mood, preferably with her in his lap.
When he opened his eyes, the snow and grey skies had been replaced with green, lots and lots of green.
"Where are we?" he asked, stepping through the arch. A warm breeze brushed his face as Hermione fingers wound through his.
"A secret garden…our secret garden," she said. "It's summer all year long." He smiled. She knew how much he appreciated summer. Taking her into his arms, he kissed her. She kissed him back, and then took him by the hand and led him to a blanket she had laid out.
They had had many happy memories in that garden. He hoped they would have many more.