Chapter Twenty: Lily
"You've been wearing the Horcrux this entire time," Severus stated flatly. He focused on that part first, because he didn't know what to think about the Weasley boy leaving. He didn't enjoy the sight of Hermione's red and puffy eyes, and he especially did not enjoy the fact that it was Weasley who had put the look there.
Severus had winced when he heard that Weasley had said she had dirty blood—he knew Weasley did not mean that in the slightest, but had said it nonetheless. It was ironic that this time it was the stubborn red-headed childhood friend in the wrong.
"Let me guess—another one of Potter's brilliant ideas."
"Yes, but—it was the Horcrux, I think," said Hermione, not meeting his eyes.
Severus sighed, shifting in the bright purple and teal loveseat of the Headmaster's office. He readjusted his grip on his pocket watch. He was so tired. He was too tired to lecture.
"Horcruxes are immensely powerful dark objects. You should have exercised more caution...but even great wizards have been brought down by such objects," he said, thinking briefly of Albus's last days before willing that avenue of thought away. Hermione looked surprised at his uncharacteristically gentle tone.
"Is it warded now?" he asked, wishing he could perform Legilimency on a mirrored image. It was hard to determine what things were like without seeing Hermione in person.
"Yes, I warded it away the moment I realised just how much it was affecting us," she said. Her image in the mirror was small, but he noticed that she was biting the edge of her lower lip.
"What will you do about Weasley?" he asked, not sure if he wanted the answer.
"He decided to go. I'm not going after him."
"Of course not." Severus couldn't blame her, especially after what Weasley had said. It was unforgivable, after all. And it didn't surprise him that she had chosen Potter over Weasley, the poor childhood friend with the temper issues. He found himself in the uncomfortable position of sympathising with Ronald Weasley, something he did not enjoy at all.
"I should go soon. It would be good to start early tomorrow with gathering camping equipment so we can go search for the woods as soon as possible, but…" She took a deep breath. "...he was right. We should start actively searching for Horcruxes instead of just chasing stories in books. Speaking of, have you found any leads as to where the other Horcruxes are?"
"Through subtle interrogation, I determined that the only option for the location of a Horcrux would be with Bellatrix Lestrange. It is a mild issue." Severus tried not to let his frustration show.
"My guess is that the Horcrux is either hidden in the abandoned Lestrange estate, or in her Gringotts vault—neither of which would be entirely out of our reach, but both difficult. I cannot leave the school for long enough to search the Lestrange estate. I have a way into her vault but would prefer not to use that method. I also have a lead on Ravenclaw's Horcrux, but will need time."
A thoughtful look came over Hermione's face. "Do you think I could break into the Lestrange estate?" she asked.
Severus thought about it for a moment. "No."
Her face fell.
"However, I do believe that William Weasley has the skills necessary to get past their wards," he added.
Hermione groaned. "Fantastic time to lose him..." she muttered. Severus found it fascinating that Hermione refused to speak Weasley's name, in a morbid sort of way, as if it was another "You-Know-Who" situation. It had been ages since he thought of his fifth year, but was that what Lily had been like, back then?
Severus thought for a moment. "If you cannot devise a way of getting in contact with Mr Weasley, I can find a way. But it would not be easy."
"It's fine. I'm in contact with Tonks, who must have some way of getting in touch with Bill…" Hermione paused for a moment. "Just curious, where did the dittany that you gave me come from?"
Severus froze. "The school stores," he said, lying. He had actually planted it himself, but he couldn't share that.
"Stealing from the school now?" Hermione's lips quirked a bit. She had not smiled since they began their conversation.
"Haven't you heard? The Dark Lord owns the school now. We're stealing from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Severus deadpanned. It had been a while since he'd stolen something belonging to the Dark Lord from under his noseless face; he needed to work on that.
Hermione smiled broadly at that, which caused a strange unidentifiable sensation in Severus' chest. It was probably relief. "I should go now."
"Stay safe," said Severus. For a second time that night, Hermione looked surprised.
"You too. Goodnight," she said, then her image blacked out.
Severus avoided studying his reflection in the mirror, and thought of how he would convince the Grey Lady to speak to him. He had seen Lovegood conversing with the ghost the other day, and it occurred to him that the ghosts might know more of relics and Horcruxes than previously thought. And as Headmaster, they might oblige his questions.
"Severus."
It was strange how familiar his name sounded from someone he had only thought of as "the Granger girl" just a year before.
"Yes?" he asked, rubbing his temples. He had his pocket watch propped up on some books on the coffee table in the study.
"I have a favour to ask you," she said. Her image shifted a little. It was the first time in several conversations when her eyes did not look even a little red. Not that he noticed things like that.
"I need you to take care of my familiar for me while Harry and I go search for the woods," she said in a rush.
Severus blinked. "Pardon? I think I heard you ask me to take care of your familiar, but that can't possibly be correct because what in the world makes you think that I have the ability or time to take care of anything else at the moment?"
"I know it's a lot to ask, but Crooks really is a good boy. He doesn't scratch furniture and he won't bother you for attention if you don't want to give it to him," she said.
"If your familiar is such a 'good boy', then why does his name mean criminal?" Severus did not feel amused.
"It's short for Crookshanks! He's a very smart cat—half kneazle, really, and very well behaved." Her doe eyes somehow became impossibly wider. Severus had a sneaking suspicion her definition of "well behaved" meant something different to his.
"Your familiar is a cat?" Severus pursed his lips. He thought of how he would run into Minerva in her Animagus form on his patrols, before, and how she would follow along for a while. But that was before. "I am...amenable to cats," he found himself saying, almost against his will. "If he behaves. But if your familiar does not behave I will not hesitate to turn him into potions ingredients."
Hermione let out an indelicate snort. "I've heard that threat before and I know for a fact that you have yet to turn anybody's familiar into potions ingredients. He'll behave, I promise." Severus said nothing at this statement but whatever his expression was it must have been encouraging, as Hermione immediately followed by asking, "can I bring him over tonight?"
"Are you out of your mind?" Severus asked. "All Floo travel is heavily monitored in and out of the castle—"
"No! I mean, I'll Apparate to Spinner's End and then you could transport Crooks to Hogwarts yourself…" she said.
Severus felt his shoulders relax. "That is acceptable. When will you be ready?" It was late at night, and unlikely that the school would need him.
"Is now all right?" she asked.
Severus felt a moment of irritation for the sudden imposition on his time, but realised that he was free. "Of course," he said, rising up from the loveseat. He Summoned his outer robes and stepped into his Floo.
Hermione was waiting for him in his sitting room when he arrived, a cat carrier underneath one arm, a lumpy rucksack in her other.
"It's good to see you," she said in greeting, and carefully set down the carrier on his coffee table.
Severus nodded in return, and cautiously approached the carrier.
"Crookshanks, come meet your new housemate," Hermione crooned, opening up the carrier and reaching in. Severus was outraged at being referred to as a "housemate"—the sheer presumption that such an animal was his equal in standing—
Said familiar emerged from the carrier. The creature that emerged was not what Severus had expected. He had expected some sort of sleek tabby, perhaps a long-haired Persian, but what emerged was a large, extremely fluffy squashed-face ginger creature that was obviously not entirely a cat.
He knew of this creature. He had heard Minerva speak fondly of an orange gremlin that occasionally terrorised her Gryffindors over the years—one of Minerva's favourite student familiars because she had thought the Tower was long overdue for a cat—so of course it belonged to Hermione.
The feline watched him steadily, as Severus took in the half-kneazle with a sinking sense of familiarity. The creature was ugly, unusually intelligent, reportedly anti-social and only tolerated a select few individuals. Their similarities were not lost on him.
"Well?" Hermione turned to him, and gestured for him to approach her familiar.
Severus moved closer and offered his hand to the beast. Crookshanks sniffed his hand for a moment, looked Severus over, then promptly turned around to present his bottom.
Severus was offended. "Really—"
"Awww, that means he likes you!" Hermione cooed. Severus wondered, not for the first time, if Granger was just a little bit mad.
She quickly scooped up the creature in her arms and transferred him to Severus, leaving him confounded at how he found himself with arms full of feline. Crookshanks seemed unbothered by the whole affair, looking no more grumpy than he did when he first emerged from the carrier.
Severus could not find it in himself to dignify any of this with a response.
"Do you have everything you need for the search?" he asked, not very consciously stroking the animal in his arms.
"Yes. We have camping supplies and food," she said, shaking the pink beaded bag she carried with her. The sound of many objects rattling around inside told him there must have been a very strong Undetectable Extension Charm cast on the purse.
"That's good," he said, still holding onto the cat.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment before he cleared his throat and Hermione straightened up and brushed her hands on her jeans.
"Well, I should probably go before Harry notices I'm not there. Thank you so much for taking in Crooks...I promise you he will be very well behaved and keep your office free of rodents," she said, moving to the door.
"Good," he said, at a loss for words. "I dislike rats," he said through ground teeth. Hermione grimaced in sympathy.
"Goodbye Crooksy," she said to her familiar, bending to kiss the feline's forehead. "Be good for Severus alright?" She straightened and raised herself on her tiptoes, as if she had planned on kissing his forehead. His heart rate sped up until she abruptly fell back on her heels and cleared her throat.
"Well, goodbye then," he said awkwardly, glad that his arms were full of cat. He most definitely did not want her sense of misplaced gratitude to culminate in anything as horrible as a hug and the cat was a good barrier.
Hermione laughed nervously. "Goodnight. Thank you for taking him in again—I really appreciate what you're doing." With that she turned on her heel and went through the Floo.
He watched as she went, then gathered the leftover carrier and bag of cat supplies with one arm as he held onto the half-kneazle with the other.
"If I find any scratches, displaced litter, or mess, I am going to dump you in the Forbidden Forest," he said to the creature in his arms.
Crookshanks yawned and began to purr.
Feeling distinctly wrongfooted, Severus ignored the creature that was obviously ignoring his attempts at intimidation and returned to his quarters.
It wasn't until he went to bed that he realised that Hermione must have been very certain that he would take in her familiar. She had been in Spinner's End before he arrived, which meant that it was likely she was there the entire time when she asked. He didn't know whether he disliked the assumption or the fact that she was right.
Hermione had told Harry that her Slytherin friend had done some investigating, and observed that the Lestranges were the most likely to have another Horcrux. Hermione had arranged to meet up with Bill through the coin she had with Tonks, and luckily for them neither Bill nor Tonks had too many questions to ask.
It seemed that both of them had made an unspoken agreement not to mention Ron at all.
Wool's Orphanage was an unfruitful trip—after doing all the research to find the address from the library, they found that the orphanage had been replaced by a gleaming office complex. Their detection spells had not hinted at even a whisper of magic.
They had decided to start with the Forbidden Forest, as it was a magical forest. They had flown up from where they had Apparated to Loch Ness, as to avoid possible detection by way of Hogsmeade. They landed at the border between the mundane and magical forest, and set up camp just outside of the Forbidden Forest. Leaving an unusual configuration of twigs near their campsite as a marker, they cast Disillusionment charms on themselves and waited for the sun to set.
"Do you think we should be having crazy thoughts?" Harry whispered in the unnatural silence that hung thickly in the air at the edge of the dark forest.
"It's a little crazy to expect a completely different magical forest to open up in front of you just because a book said it might, isn't it?" Hermione asked dryly.
Harry let out a surprised laugh. "Maybe we could try some of that meditation thing that you're always doing."
"That would be the opposite of having a wild mind," said Hermione in fond exasperation.
"Maybe we should think about foolish dreams." A leaf crackled in the distance, but nothing appeared.
"Maybe."
"Do you know what you'd like to do after all of this is over?" Harry asked, gaze not leaving the entrance to the Forbidden Forest.
"No. I'm afraid to jinx things by thinking like that," she said.
"What did you use to think you would do?"
Somewhere in the forest, a crow cawed.
"I had some vague idea that I would be Head Girl, and then go on to work for the Ministry to help House Elves, I suppose," she said, shuffling her feet. The sun was setting now, but the light was still golden, casting long shadows from the trees and stones at the edge of the woods.
"What about you, Harry?"
"I thought I would play quidditch for a while, and then thought I'd become an Auror but the Ministry's a bit bunk these days, isn't it?" said Harry, gazing at the mountain range beyond the forest. "I'm sorry that you've got to live like this. You shouldn't have to suffer like this with me."
"Harry, that's ridiculous. I might be doing worse without you because the Death Eaters were going to take over the Ministry whether we liked it or not." Hermione reached into her robes and extracted a flask of butterbeer.
The sun had set, the sky had turned a dark blue-grey.
"Feels like all you've been doing is saving me lately," Harry mumbled. Hermione passed him the flask. "Oh! It's butterbeer." Harry laughed, which carried eerily in the quiet woods. "I've always wanted a sibling like you," Harry said thoughtfully after a few more swigs. "But you're mostly less frustrating than how I'd imagine a sibling would be like."
"That's all right. You're frustrating enough in this friendship for the two of us," she said primly, staring hard at the forest.
"Oi! Hey!" Harry nudged her. They fell into silence after that. Twilight came and went, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Harry volunteered to take the first watch at night, in case the entrance to the Lost Woods appeared between dusk to dawn, while she cooked.
Hermione returned later with a meal of tinned beans and unevenly toasted bread cooked over a campfire. She had lit up a small magical fire in a fire pit, but had never learned to cook over an open flame so cooking had been slow.
That night she fell asleep to the warmth of Warming charms, and woke up to the frigid autumn morning air, as their charms had worn off in the night. She shivered as she took the early morning watch until the sun rose. Breakfast was porridge cooked over a campfire. Hermione thanked magic for Aguamenti—while her bag had been charmed to be featherlight there was still a limited amount of space in her bag, and packing water on top of everything else would've been impossible.
They camped near the Forbidden Forest for two more days after that. On the fourth day, they heard voices outside of their camp right after they finished breakfast.
Hermione was the first one to react, casting a Bubble-Head Charm around the fire; she had not figured out how to ward scents yet. She watched in shocked silence as a group of Death Eaters walked by.
"Ruddy Taboo sending us every four days to the Forbidden Forest—probably the centaurs saying the word just to make work for us—bloody hate patrol duty…" one of them grumbled to another.
"Wh—" Hermione pressed her hand against Harry's mouth. Her wards blocked sound, but she did not want to test how good they were with a group of Death Eaters present. She shuffled forward closer to the edge of her wards, and watched with wide eyes as four Death Eaters walked by. She stopped breathing when one walked so close that she could reach out to touch him if she wanted. The Death Eater had shaggy hair and yellow eyes. His nostrils flared for a moment, and then he began to sniff closer to the edge of their wards.
"Women's shampoo…" he murmured, eyes narrowing.
Hermione nonverbally conjured a gust of wind, followed by a quick Obliviate and Confundus, turning the man around, and took in a huge gasp of air when he left.
She held up a finger to her lips to Harry, whose eyes were bulging at the sight of the Death Eaters, and then they silently broke down the camp. She covered the traces of their fire by scattering the stones and burying the ashes. Once they were packed, Hermione made them wait for twenty minutes before she took down the wards and Apparated them to the closest magical woods she could think of.
"Where are we?" Harry asked, after they had chosen and warded a campsite.
"Still in Scotland. We're at Blackmuir Wood now—there's a fairy reserve here, and a few other magical creatures, so…" Hermione trailed off, and continued looking for rocks to form a ring for the campfire.
Harry grunted and helped her set up the fire ring.
"How exactly do we know if we've found the Lost Woods anyway?" he finally asked, once they finished setting up the tent.
"I haven't read this in any books, but I've asked and my Slytherin friend says that he's heard stories of people stumbling upon enchanted woods while drunk or such, and usually they remember finding a pathway to the woods shrouded in fog...some mention a strange smell...so lots of fog, I'd guess," Hermione said with a shrug.
"Are you saying we should have been drunk this entire time?" Harry asked.
"I—I'm not so sure that's a good idea." Hermione winced.
"What happened to those people in the woods?" Harry asked, catching onto Hermione's reluctance.
"Some said they don't remember and the others just never said," she said, digging the final tent pegs into the ground.
"Should we sweep the woods for Death Eaters before we camp?" Harry asked, as they sat down Disillusioned on some rocks at the edge of the forest where the border was between mundane and magical plants. The sun was barely setting but little light filtered through the thick forest canopy.
"Homenum revelio," Hermione whispered; the spell turned up nothing. Her voice sounded loud against the silent background of the forest. She wondered if all magical forests were like this.
"All right. But what if Death Eaters pass by and our wards don't hold?" Harry asked in a low voice. Hermione peered at the shimmer in the air where Harry was.
"Harry," Hermione started, and stopped. "Harry. Think about it. What are the chances that we are going to run into anyone from the magical world when we are camped in remote forests? There were Death Eaters at the Forbidden Forest because someone there triggered the Taboo, but this is a fairy reserve...it's unlikely that anyone will be here."
"You're right." Harry exhaled noisily, and then shuffled some more. "It's just...I feel tense, being out here with nothing but a tent and some wards, you know?"
Hermione murmured her agreement, and focused on looking in front of her.
It was getting chillier and the light grew dimmer, and then suddenly it was dark.
"Do you know what day it is today?" Harry asked later, after they had dinner.
"It's Halloween," Hermione breathed, upset that she had forgotten the important date. It had been sixteen years since that fateful night. She thought about Harry being an orphan, what strange things prophecies were, Lily Potter's sacrifice, and—
"I'd like to go to Godric's Hollow," said Harry.
"Harry, no—"
"Don't you think that a Horcrux might be there?" he asked.
Hermione bit her lip. That was a fair line of reasoning. But she knew what Harry really wanted.
"Maybe not today," she finally relented. "It's...All Hallow's Eve—if we were to find a magical forest tonight would be a better night than any, don't you think? And maybe You-Know-Who would be there tonight, because it's special to him too."
She rather thought that if anything, Voldemort would have avoided Godric's Hollow because it was the site of his greatest downfall up until now, but perhaps it was for that very reason that he would've hidden a Horcrux there. And it would be like him to anticipate that Harry would go on All Hallow's Eve.
"All right," said Harry, jaw set mulishly.
"We could go tomorrow. They say the veil between the spirit world and ours is thinnest between All Hallow's Eve and All Hallow's Day—I think it might be better to go during the day, since this time ends on the nightfall of All Hallow's Day. Death Eaters are less likely to show up during the day, anyway."
They didn't find the Lost Woods that night, but Hermione could feel something calling out to her from the shadows all evening long.
She slept restlessly, and the next morning woke up with a headache. They ate breakfast quietly, vanished the signs of their campsite, and set off to Godric's Hollow underneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
The skies were overcast and the village was covered in a thick cloud of fog when they Apparated to Godric's Hollow. It was a relief that she could not sense any Dementors, despite the fog.
Hermione stuck closely together with Harry as they looked for the graveyard, and walked closely with him, wand out, as they looked through the crumbling tombstones for his parents.
Finally, they found the graves, because Hermione had spotted the one grave with a bouquet of flowers that was fresh. There was a bundle of spindly white lilies surrounded by silver-green foliage that she knew was asphodel and wormwood. Her throat closed as she looked down on the bundle that was carefully tied together with a black ribbon.
How many years had Severus been leaving flowers at Lily Potter's grave?
"Someone was here before us," Harry said, throwing off the cloak. "I'm glad that there are still people who miss my parents," he breathed, stepping closer to the grave.
Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him it was just one person who he probably hated more than even Voldemort.
They stood in silence in front of the graves. Harry seemed as if he was about to speak several times, before he changed his mind again.
Hermione conjured a bouquet of white roses, for respect and remembrance, as Harry knelt in front of the grave and silently cried. She looped an arm around him, and they knelt there in the frost-tipped grass, the knees of their jeans soaking through with cold. It was so cold. The sound of Harry's ragged breathing seemed to echo loudly in the still cemetery.
Hermione shivered. There was a certain bleakness in the cemetery, and a certain kind of hopelessness that seeped into her soul as she looked at the bouquet of wormwood and asphodel that Severus had left for Lily Potter.
That was all that war was: bitter regrets following people to their graves. Death and grief, and grief and death. She thought of her own parents, likely never to know her again. She thought of her life that spiraled out of control more and more with every passing year. The world, out of control.
Her parents were gone. Ron had left. She couldn't keep things together, she had failed, and the most she could do for Harry was to bring him to his parents' graves.
"Hermione," Harry hissed as he suddenly rose to a crouch. He grabbed her roughly.
"What?" Hermione was spun around, and found a looming void staring her in her face. She stood there, struck dumb, as she watched the lone Dementor raise its arms, then suddenly the temperature in the graveyard was freezing. It was time to give in. There was a painful tugging sensation in her chest as the void of the Dementor's face darkened. This was how she was going to go, on top of Lily Potter's graveyard—
"EXPECTO PATRONUS!" Harry bellowed. There was a slight reprieve from the cold as his stag charged the Dementor and then came back to guard them, as more Dementors appeared in the distance.
"We've got to go," Harry said, grabbing the Cloak and her arm, and then he Apparated them away.
AN: big thank you to all my reviewers, especially Happy (Guest)! My arm problems have been resolved for months now, thank you to everyone for your concern. I've been dealing with other health issues for the past year, and it has been very difficult at times, but things are manageable now. Thank you all so much for all the reviews, it really makes me happy to see them. :)