Chapter Six: Rosemary
Severus rubbed his eyes. It was late, it was chilly in the dungeons, and he had endless marking to do. In front of him sat a stack of fourth-year essays which he was tempted to toss into the flickering flames behind the grate of his sitting-room fireplace. It was only the first week of school; normally Severus would be dreaming about the end of the school year, but not this year.
It seemed questionable that most of the students had learned anything in Defence over the years. Looking down at the current essay he was marking, he was tempted to cross out everything with red ink. "The difference between ghosts and Inferi is that one is invisible," indeed. But it was too late to worry about their previous lessons now; he had one year to prepare the students, if that. He would do what he could.
He exhaled slowly after scratching out another scathing comment. When was the last time he had written anything not related to his job? There were faint memories of enjoying the process of putting together an essay, of following a thread of logic to a satisfying conclusion, of picking just the right word. His latest speech for his Defence class had been gratifying to write, but he had a feeling it had gone over the heads of most of the dunderheads he taught.
He never imagined in his youth that he would be working two jobs and taking care of hundreds of children at the age of thirty-six.
In the days after the lesson with Snape, Hermione found herself fighting tears at all times of day and dreams of Death Eaters at night. She found herself thinking over Snape's words at odd times of day. "It's unbecoming and unwise to underestimate yourself so much" ran through her head frequently; it sounded like praise coming from Snape, who she respected the most of all her professors, though the reason had little to do with his teaching ability and everything with his obvious intellect and involvement in the war.
It was Luna, of all people, who helped her find her centre of balance again. Luna kept her company in the library, and sat close to her side on the window seat in the library when she felt close to tears, and told her that it was all right to be afraid but that she didn't need to let her fears control her. Somehow Luna managed to explain things to her in a way that made everything Snape told her to do seem very simple.
Crookshanks was also very helpful during this time, as he patiently put up with her tears and clinginess, going as far as to lick the tears off her face on occasion.
Harry and Ron noticed something was off with her, but they did not seem comfortable addressing whatever was bothering her. Disregarding her fragile emotional state from a lack of Occlumency, she felt stretched thin and irritable from her classes and extra studies with Snape, and it was all the more irritating whenever she saw Harry with the Half-Blood Prince's book.
She didn't like the book because she just didn't understand—the assigned textbook had all the explanations for why things were supposed to work, and the logic in the text was clear, but the Prince ignored the written text and wrote down alterations with no discernable rhyme or reason. Some of the Prince's alterations directly contradicted the text; they didn't make sense to her, and she thought Harry was cheating himself of understanding potions.
Her mood was not much better when it was time for another session with Professor Snape. The time was set for Saturday evening with a note on the first Defence essay she received back—only an E!—which she excused to Harry and Ron by saying that something had come up at the Infirmary and she needed to brew again. They didn't seem to think anything strange was going on, though Ron seemed a little more disappointed than usual she was not going to be spending the evening with them, which warmed her heart.
Saturday evening arrived quickly.
"Enter," came Snape's voice, just loud enough to be audible after she knocked at the dungeon lab doors. Hermione shivered and wrapped her robes closer around her; the dungeons were always cold.
He pointed to the brewing setup without looking at her and turned back to scribbling red comments on his piles of parchment. There was a single large black cauldron with instructions for Pepper-Up. Hermione greeted Professor Snape and set to work immediately. It was an easy potion to brew, and it wasn't long before she was finished.
"I'm done," she said, after she finished bottling the potion.
"I see," he said, and briefly studied the murky contents of her bottles. His face betrayed no emotion, even though the flickering candlelight caused shadows to move across his features. He did not comment on the bottles before he cleared away the parchment on his desk and moved his gaze to Hermione's face, meeting her eyes for a few moments.
"You're not Occluding your feelings anymore."
"No, I'm not. I'm still not very good at controlling them," she confessed, "but I have been getting better."
"I had not expected someone like you to immediately gain control of your emotions, though your progress on this matter has been...adequate." Snape frowned. "Enough. How is Mr Potter these days?"
The change of topic took Hermione a second to adjust to. "He's managing, I think. He's...very focused on schoolwork lately, actually," because he's got that Prince book, she thought sourly, "and he seems less upset about Sirius and being the Chosen One." Because he's been focusing on his obsession with Draco Malfoy, she managed not to blurt out.
Snape's upper lip curled at her mention of Sirius, but he made no comment.
"And how is he dealing with being the Chosen One?"
"Well, obviously he's feeling the pressure because of the prophecy—"
"The contents of the prophecy are secret. You should not speak freely of it with anyone," Snape snapped, and looked at her sharply.
"But I trust you," Hermione said.
"Why? None of your peers do. Have you considered they may have good reasons?" Snape's face had entirely blanked at this point.
Hermione blinked. "I trust you because you're a good person."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do you know this? Are you truly this naive? Perhaps I have misjudged you and this was a bad idea after all."
Hermione made an impatient sound. "You put yourself in the path of a transformed werewolf in front of a child you hated. You have saved the lives of me and my friends many times over the years. You are often mean to people, but that doesn't make you any less good of a person, it just makes you...unpleasant."
Snape looked at her, face inscrutable in the dim light of the dungeon.
"I'm...unpleasant. Are you always this frank with your teachers?" he finally asked.
Hermione flushed. "No—sir, that is…"
The corner of Snape's lips twitched but he did not press the issue further. "Now that we have discussed your misplaced faith, I think we should move on to practising your Occlumency. I want you to try and hold a secret from me."
Hermione looked into his eyes and relaxed her mind entirely. She buried the memory of what Harry had told her about Merope Gaunt after Dumbledore's lesson, and thought of her lessons during the day instead.
Snape shifted through her thoughts with a deft but uncomfortable probe, and the beginnings of her memory of Harry's conversation began to play in her mind before she slammed down the thought behind a wall of thoughts, and forced herself to shift to a memory of a conversation she had with Harry about his new plans for the Quidditch team for the upcoming year.
Snape withdrew from her mind, lips pursed in distaste. "Your instincts to protect a secret through misdirection are good, though that would not fool an experienced Legilimens. Practice hiding your thoughts this week, as well as practice the Confundus Charm on a target. We will work on your misdirection techniques more later."
"The Confundus Charm, sir?" Hermione asked, confused for a moment.
"Yes, the Confundus Charm, also known at times as the 'minor Imperio'. I'm sure you've already read the theory?"
"Yes, while the Imperius Curse controls the actions of the victim, the Confundus Charm only controls the thoughts but leaves the actions up to the victim, which is why it's not an Unforgivable. The Confundus Charm can also usually be resisted by the use of Occlumency," Hermione recited, unable to help herself.
"Yes. Quite," Snape remarked dryly.
"How will I be practising this curse?" Hermione asked, curious.
"The way everyone learns how to do Dark Magic, Miss Granger—by choosing a victim and getting away with it."
Hermione stared at Snape.
He looked back at her, unimpressed. "Of course, if you don't want to continue learning how to deal with an enemy before they have the chance to approach you, by all means—"
"No! I mean, of course, I want to, it's just...it's against school rules to curse other students," Hermione finished lamely.
"Well, if it's against the rules, then perhaps you shouldn't do it."
Hermione felt her cheeks burn. "That's not—what if I get caught?"
"Then don't get caught," said Snape.
Severus looked without really seeing out his Death Eater mask, with no expression on his face, though no one could see it. The sound of Rosemary Abbott begging for mercy in between screams of pain from the Cruciatus curse echoed loudly in his ears, but all he felt was the cold blankness of Occlumency he used to mask his emotions.
She was a half-blood, which would not normally put a target on her back, but she ran a Muggle-born advocacy group. They had been sent on a mission to send a message, but Severus was not told what the mission was until he found himself at her doorstep.
Severus forced himself not to look away when Avery stepped in and cast the final curse, the flash of green light leaving a stark after image in his sight as Mrs Abbott went still.
Waiting until the others left, he stayed behind to pay his respects. Neither Aurors nor Order members would be by anytime soon. He stood over her still body, then gently shut her unseeing eyes. Turning on his heel, he Apparated.
Safe in Spinner's End, Severus carefully removed his mask and robes.
It was ironic; just earlier that day Granger had been telling him that he was a good man. He ignored the part of himself that wanted to believe her. She believed in him because she didn't know the truth.
Severus Snape had turned his back on goodness when he willingly joined the Death Eaters as a youth, and whatever he did after to atone for his sins would never make up for the fact that he had directly caused the death of the one pure thing he ever had in his life.
It had been so long since he believed he could be good like Lily, since he thought it was possible he could care about other people the way she did, see the best and believe in people the way she did, differentiate between right and wrong the way she did...since he believed there was something in himself worth noticing in the light because somebody else could see it too.
He didn't know what made a person good anymore.
Lily had married his childhood bully and died. Whatever belief he had in goodness had died along with her; years at the side of Albus and his belief in the Greater Good had just cemented the slow death of his faith in people. He had all but forgotten what faith felt like, and increasingly he felt as if he didn't care. It didn't matter, because he was condemned at the end of this war regardless of which side won, and neither side was innocent though the Death Eaters had started the whole thing and were committing the worst atrocities by far.
There was as much prejudice against Slytherins as his Slytherins had against Muggle-borns, and not all Slytherins were evil. Severus would know. Even Albus Dumbledore wasn't an entirely good man—he did everything in the name of the Greater Good, but in his own way he was as ruthless as the Dark Lord. Severus believed while Albus could not have prevented Rosemary Abbott's death, he could have prevented the deaths of Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance earlier that summer, but purportedly not at the cost of Severus' role.
Severus had sworn to himself he would do whatever it took to bring down the Dark Lord, but he didn't know if the cost was worth it. Every time he weighed the price of one life against the Greater Good he felt his humanity slip away from him a little more. But Albus did as well, as did the Dark Lord.
Severus Snape didn't believe he was good, because he didn't believe in such a thing anymore.
Friday was the last day before Hermione's next lesson with Snape, and she still had not Confunded anyone, though she had a plan to make Ron leave dinner early if she could not think of anything.
The news that Hannah Abbott's mother had been found dead the day before had been very distracting and disturbing; it was a sobering reminder her own parents were not safe. She had also been disturbed by the news in the Daily Prophet about Stan Shunpike's false arrest, as well as the small blurb about a Muggle refugee who had been beaten to death by a mob of "unruly Muggles" in a show of "barbaric violence".
Quidditch tryouts were held shortly after breakfast in the cold morning drizzle. Hermione joined Harry and Ron at the tryouts despite the chill, eager to support her friends, but stiffened when she saw Lavender approach and smile at Ron. A sick feeling spread through her stomach when she saw his walk morph into a strut after he noticed Lavender's attention, but she pushed it out of her mind. That was fine.
What drew her attention shortly after was something strange happening with the tryouts compared with years past. Giggling fangirls and students from other houses were attempting to join the tryouts, all because of Harry, she was sure—"really," Hermione muttered under her breath—and because of the extra interest, the tryouts took two hours before they moved on to the Keepers.
It was a relief when McLaggen was called up. Trickles of water were starting to fall onto her robes despite the dispelling charm Hermione had performed, and McLaggen had chosen to sit beside her and make rude running commentary on all of the people trying out, including crude commentary on the figures of every female student trying out.
The relief didn't last long. Each save McLaggen scored twisted Hermione's guts a little more. When it looked like he was about to save the fifth shot, she tilted her wand and nonverbally cast a Confundus charm his way. Immediately, he swerved and missed.
Stunned by her own actions, Hermione missed the moment when Ron was called up and felt a different sort of anxiety when Lavender loudly wished him luck. She wanted to do the same, but found she could do it after Lavender did. To her relief, he saved all five goals.
"You did brilliantly, Ron!" she said, grinning madly as she ran down to meet Ron and Harry after the tryouts. The pleased look that Ron shot her warmed her despite the chill, and she forgot all about Lavender.
They visited Hagrid after the tryouts and finally broke the frost that had formed in their relationship after the Trio dropped Care of Magical Creatures from their schedules, narrowly avoiding breaking their teeth on Hagrid's new recipe for black currant scones.
The rain had let up by this point, though the grass was still wet. On their way back to the castle for dinner, they saw Cormac make two attempts to walk in through the front doors after walking into the doors on his first try. Hermione tried to walk past Cormac without drawing attention to him, but Harry chose that moment to suddenly use his powers of observation and make a leap of deduction that she had been the one to hex him. At least Harry didn't seem upset—if anything, he found the whole situation quite funny. It was heartening when Harry pretended they had been talking about nothing at all when Ron asked them what they had been discussing.
She wondered what Snape would say if he knew she had been caught.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. The girl had overpowered her Confundus and Potter of all people had caught onto the fact that she had cursed McLaggen.
"Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for getting caught and for overpowering your Confundus," he said.
"But it was just Harry, sir—"
"Do not make me take ten points," Severus said wearily. He resisted the urge to rub his temples.
The death of Rosemary Abbott still weighed heavily on his mind, and he didn't have the energy to snap at the Granger girl.
They went back to brewing—Calming Draught this time—until the girl spoke up.
"I've been thinking about what I need to do to move my parents, and I think I have a plan…"
"Oh?" Oh, good. Perhaps someone could be saved for once.
Granger looked up at him from under her lashes. "But I'm not sure exactly how to make them think they're completely different people without causing permanent brain damage. And I'll need to fake their documents and make sure they work when used in the Muggle world."
Severus resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose again. "Do you have any ideas on how to deal with these very minor problems?"
She fidgeted in her seat. "Well, obviously the solution for the memory issue is not to wipe their memories and replace them with completely new ones—just alter them somehow. Repress only the memories related to me and give them just enough new ones to suggest that they're different people. And I was hoping you would know a wizard who makes fake Muggle identification papers that would work…"
"Indeed...though why would I know wizards who fake Muggle identification papers?" he asked.
"Well...maybe in your line of work…" Hermione faltered.
"I'm quite impressed with how glamorous you think the life of a school teacher is," Severus said blandly.
"Oh! You know what I mean. It's fine—I'll find a Muggle way to do it if you don't know anyone…"
It was too easy baiting the Granger girl.
"Calm yourself. I do happen to know of a wizard who offers certain...services. But it will cost you, and you'll want to wipe his memory of the specific identities he provided. How do you feel about practising the Obliviate spell?"
Hermione smiled weakly. "Isn't that kind of dangerous? I don't want to send anybody to St. Mungo's."
Severus sighed. At least teaching the girl was a diversion from his problems.
"For this, we will start with animals."
Hermione and Luna had never been very close, even during their time in Dumbledore's Army, but since the new school year Luna had taken to seeking out her company more. Perhaps it was their experience in the Department of Mysteries, or perhaps it was the level of mental calm that Hermione had reached compared with before, due to all of her calming exercises for Occlumency.
They spent a lot of time sitting together reading books in a comfortable corner of the library, sometimes with the books upside-down or sideways in the case of Luna. She had been confused but grateful at first when Luna started approaching her, especially when Luna seemed to intuitively know what she needed to deal with her emotions—truthfully, she was still confused—but it was pleasant to be around Luna and she didn't have many female friends, so she accepted the situation gladly.
"You seem to be better now," Luna said one day while Hermione was trying to figure out how to selectively use a memory-repression spell.
"Ah, yes?" Hermione knew Luna was perceptive, but she did not want to get into why she had been an emotional wreck so shortly after the start of the school year.
"You have the right amount of Wrackspurts again," Luna explained matter-of-factly.
"Right." Hermione had given up on contradicting Luna when she talked about her imaginary creatures. It felt wrong to do so now they were friends.
"Sometimes when people feel strongly, they gather a lot of Wrackspurts around themselves," Luna said. "You didn't have enough before. And then too much. But now the number is right."
"Right—er, why do you say I'm gathering Wrackspurts?" Hermione asked Luna, trying to humour her.
"Because you like Ronald Weasley of course," Luna said.
Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "What?" she squeaked.
"I think he likes you back. You should ask him out," Luna continued and paused thoughtfully. "I've never had a boy like me like that before. I don't know what I'd do if someone did."
"How do you know a boy has never liked you?" Hermione asked, indignant on Luna's behalf, and too embarrassed and pleased on her own behalf to comment on Luna's earlier statement.
Luna looked away from Hermione and started humming under her breath. That signalled the end of the conversation.
Over the next few weeks, Hermione practised Obliviating all manner of small animals. She didn't ask where Snape had found them, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
What they practiced were small Obliviations on the animals that Snape checked with Legilimency, and while Hermione had her misgivings about practicing on animals, Snape asked if she wanted to learn to Obliviate on any living beings without his guidance during a conflict situation, which stopped her from further protests.
It chilled her to wipe memories like this, but Snape also taught her ways to heal the mind of damage Obliviation and other mind magic work could result in, which eased her conscience a little. She thought of her parents, and how far she was going to go in altering their memories—what they have of their real life left in remembrance she wondered—and wondered if it was right, the way she was essentially playing god with the minds of people who could not stop her. But she was learning these skills so she could protect herself, and protect others. That had to be enough.
In addition to Obliviation, Snape taught Hermione enough Legilimency so that she would be able to sift through the minds of the animals to find what memories she needed to deal with. It was fascinating, using Legilimency to explore the minds of other living creatures, but Hermione never enjoyed the strange claustrophobic sensation that she got from being trapped within another mind when she did it.
When Snape was certain she had the technique down, he had her practice on the student body. After much discussion, they settled for picking Crabbe and Goyle, reasoning that the boys wouldn't miss much if they started randomly forgetting information, and Snape checked on the progress of her memory charms by calling them into his office and asking them if they remembered what they were being called in for.
Snape was starting to look more and more strained as the weeks progressed, and he seemed less patient than he usually was with her, but he had yet to truly blow his lid.
They also set about adapting existing spellwork for repressing memories and planting false memories. It was incredible to Hermione that Professor Snape could just invent new ways of doing magic, and she was learning a lot about spell creation with him, not just merely adapting existing spells as she had done previously.
"Why is it so difficult to make people think they're someone else?" she had asked one evening after they finished a particularly large batch of Stomach Soothing Solution.
Snape leaned back in his seat, and took on what Hermione thought of as his Lecturing Stance. "It is difficult because life-like memories are impossible to fake; quite frequently memories are the only admissible evidence in the Wizengamot because they cannot be tampered with without leaving behind traces of tampering. So we must very carefully build up a web of memories that suggest an existence in such a way that a person would never examine them too closely."
"And did you think the wizards who previously wanted to wipe and rewrite a person's entire identity cared much if their victims were able to function in society after they cursed them?" Snape asked, looking back at his cauldron.
Hermione had nothing to say to that. There was no such thing as a suggestion or a compulsion charm in the wizarding world that did not come with other curse side-effects, and she could not bear the idea of putting her parents under the Imperius, although Snape had commented the Imperius would have been the simpler option. She wanted to leave them with some free will left.
Snape left her to her thoughts as he returned to brewing.
"You do realise when we are finished we must destroy all evidence of what we have done, because this is Dark magic that could be dangerous in the wrong hands?" Snape asked later that evening.
"Yes, sir," she replied quietly. It unsettled her to think of them as creating new forms of Dark Magic.
Snape sighed. "You should start protecting your secrets from Legilimency at all hours from now on."
Hermione paused her attempts to manipulate the vial of memories in her hands. "Are there Legilimens who I should worry about knowing my secrets in this castle?"
"Aside from Dumbledore, no. But you never know when you could be ambushed."
Hermione's sense of unease worsened, but she did nothing other than nod.
Hermione was not in a good mood for the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year, which was halfway through October. Crookshanks had been missing for the past two days, and while she had no idea what she had done she had the distinct feeling her familiar was upset at her for something.
The day started inauspiciously—Harry tried an unknown spell on Ron from the Prince textbook that caused people to dangle upside-down in the air, and they didn't even seem to care that Death Eaters had used this very same spell during the attacks on Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup a few years back. It alarmed her that Harry thought there wasn't anything wrong with trying unknown spells from an unknown author, but he had brushed her off.
She had a feeling the Prince wasn't a pleasant person from some of the spells in the book, and was possibly even a Death Eater, but Harry had insisted a person proud to be a half-blood couldn't be a Death Eater even though logic dictated that there just weren't enough Pure-bloods left to make up all the rest of the Death Eaters. But Harry was being illogical about the whole thing and was becoming increasingly attached to his book. There was no convincing him.
The day did not get any better as they headed into Hogsmeade. They noticed that Zonko's had been boarded up soon after entering the village, and the day did not improve when Slughorn found them in Honeydukes and injured Ron's ego by ignoring him while attempting to get Harry to attend a Slug Club dinner again.
It was starting to feel like the day couldn't get any worse when Harry started choking Mundungus Fletcher at The Three Broomsticks for stealing Black family silverware, but of course, that was proven wrong when Katie Bell was cursed.
Severus sweated as he finished casting to contain the Dark Magic coursing through Katie Bell, who was whimpering while huddled under the white bedsheets of the Hospital Wing. She had been an average Potions student, a slightly-above-average Defence student, and was not as annoying as most Gryffindors.
The Healers from St Mungo's would arrive soon. Bell's condition had stabilised, even if she had not been entirely freed from the curse. He had done what he could.
Severus mopped his brow with a handkerchief as he took a step back from the hospital bed. How many students had he healed from Dark curses over the years? It was times like these that made him feel as if they were running a field hospital instead of a school.
Dumbledore had insisted that Draco would approach them first—because he had faith Draco Malfoy was not a murderer. Severus did not think Draco was a murderer either; he had known the boy since he had been named, and while he was a bit of a spoiled brat, he was not the sort of person who could commit cold-blooded murder. But Severus knew the boy had a ridiculous amount of pride, and would never approach him for help if he could help it. They could not force Draco to receive help that he did not want, especially if the boy was to turn, but it was evident they needed to act soon.
AN: Hey all, thanks for being patient—I managed to re-injure my wrists/arms so I missed last week's update. Updates will take longer until I am fully healed, though I will try to make every two weeks at least. The next update should be on the 21st, unless something comes up-I will be updating my tumblr if I can't make it, at "viridiantly" on tumblr.
Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, I really appreciate every one of them! It always makes me really happy seeing what parts of the fic resonate for different people and seeing the story with fresh eyes. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!