"Mate, I think you're wrong about Snape. He is trying to kill us."
A bit dramatic, maybe, though Harry understood where Ron was coming from. Snape had been relentless these past few weeks, pushing them to train from sunrise to sundown. He even insisted on evening lessons, drilling them on Occlumency until they were too tired to function.
"Can't we do it tomorrow? I'm exhausted."
"Exhaustion works to our advantage, Mr. Weasley. Your defenses will be much stronger if you learn to protect your mind when it's at its most vulnerable."
"He's not trying to kill us," Harry said. "He's trying to stop us from being killed."
"Right. I'm sure we'll have no problem protecting ourselves when we're nodding off in the middle of an attack."
"Oh, come on, you know that wouldn't happen. Anyway, it's not so bad. You don't hear Hermione complaining, do you?"
"That's because she's asleep."
Harry looked over his shoulder, spotting Hermione on the couch. She'd laid her head on the armrest, eyes closed, half eaten sandwich still clutched in one hand.
"Fine," he said, sighing heavily. "I'll talk to Snape."
He headed upstairs, pausing at the door that had belonged to Sirius's brother. It was where Snape preferred to sleep whenever he spent the night, though he had yet to explain why. Had he known Regulus? He must have, considering they were both in Slytherin, though Harry wasn't sure…
"Oi, Harry!"
Bloody hell. Did Ron want him to talk to Snape or not? He backtracked down the hallway, poking his head over the railing.
"What?"
"Remus is here."
Remus had been stopping by every couple days, passing along messages or dropping off supplies. He was a necessary go-between now that the Order had moved their headquarters, the only one other than Snape who knew where the Trio was.
Still, that didn't mean Harry was excited to see him. He rolled his eyes as he descended the stairs, frustrated at Ron for putting him on the spot.
"Good to see you, Harry."
"Yeah," he said. "You, too,"
The tension was palpable, just as it had been ever since he'd discovered the truth. The things Remus had hidden from him, all the lies he'd told…
The worst part was that he hadn't apologized. He hadn't even tried to explain himself, seeming content with strained, awkward politeness. Not surprising, Harry supposed. He had a long history of avoiding conflict, starting way back when he'd turned a blind eye to James and Sirius's bullying.
"Guess what?" Ron said. "Bill's getting married."
"Really? When?"
"Few days from now. Mum says we should show up the day before so we can celebrate your birthday, too."
"Ron…" Harry shook his head. "You know we can't go."
"Why not?"
"We're not supposed to go anywhere, remember?"
"Well, yeah, but this is different."
"Ron's right," Remus said. "The Burrow is the safest place you could be other than here, and it is a special occasion. I'm sure Severus would be willing to make an exception."
"An exception to what?" Snape said as he strode into the kitchen.
"Hello, Severus. Nice to see…"
"An exception to what?"
Remus hesitated, shooting a look at Harry. Clearly, he wanted him to answer on his behalf, redirecting Snape's attention and possibly his anger. In the past, Harry might've fallen for it, but now… he stayed silent, disappointed by Remus's cowardice.
"Oh, ah, I was just telling the boys…"
"My brother's getting married," Ron interjected. "We'll be going to the Burrow for a couple of days."
"You most certainly will not."
"The Burrow has been well secured," Remus said. "Severus, you know that. Surely it wouldn't hurt…"
"Have I not made myself clear? No unnecessary risks, no exceptions."
"But…"
Snape didn't wait for Ron to finish, glaring at each of them in turn before he swept out of the kitchen.
"Well," Harry said, "I guess that settles it."
"Like hell it does! What right does he have… I can visit my own bloody parents if I want to!"
"Ron, you promised. You can't just…"
Harry trailed off, following Ron as he hurried toward the foyer. Before he could stop him, he'd thrown open the door, sticking his head out into the cool night air.
"See? I can leave whenever I want."
"Are you mad? Close the bloody door!"
To Harry's relief, Ron did as he was told, though he still looked defiant. He returned to the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he sat next to Remus.
Honestly? Harry couldn't blame him. While he understood why Snape wanted them to stay hidden, that didn't mean it was easy or fun. The training in particular was taking a toll, wearing them down to the point where one of them could easily snap and do something stupid.
"Stay here," he said. "I'll be back in a bit."
Again, he headed upstairs, knocking on Regulus's door. Snape jerked it open, expression hostile, though his features softened somewhat when he saw who it was.
"Harry. Come in."
"Thanks," he said, suddenly nervous as Snape closed the door behind them. He knew what he wanted to say, though now that he was here…
"Did Lupin leave?"
"Not yet."
"Ah. Still down there putting foolish ideas in Weasley's head?"
"It's not foolish," Harry said quietly.
"What?"
"The wedding. Ron isn't foolish for wanting to go."
"For wanting to?" Snape said. "Perhaps not, though he was deluded to think I would allow it."
"Not deluded. Hopeful. He misses his family."
"Irrelevant."
"How can you say that?"
"Because," Snape said, "it isn't safe."
"The Burrow has lots of protections. The entire Order will be there, not to mention…"
"Precisely."
"What?" Harry frowned.
"The entire Order, any one of whom could easily be a spy. Either that or Confunded, Imperiused…"
"What if we disguised ourselves?"
"Polyjuice?" Snape said. "I suppose that would help, though it is by no means a guarantee. If someone were to invade your mind…"
"They couldn't do that. Not without blowing their cover in front of a bunch of people who are Order members."
"Yes, well…"
Snape clearly hadn't thought of that, though it wasn't enough to change his mind. He shook his head, jaw stubbornly set as he got up to pace the room.
"Even if you are correct, there are too many things that could go wrong. If the worst should happen… it would be difficult if not impossible for me to intervene on your behalf. I'd have to play my part as a loyal Death Eater, which…" He trailed off, clearly imagining all sorts of horrors as his features twisted into a grimace.
"You're right," Harry said. "There's always a chance that things might go wrong. But that's also true if we stay here."
"This house has every possible protection. No one but myself and Lupin…"
He shook his head. "That's not what I mean."
"No?" Snape sat back down, giving him an inquisitive look.
"Ron and Hermione are burned out. So am I, for that matter. We're sick and tired of the training, and…"
"Four weeks," Snape interrupted. "That's all I have left before I start my tenure as headmaster. After that, I won't have the luxury of training you every day or anywhere close to it. You'll be left to your own devices."
"I know, which is why I haven't complained. It's just…"
"I've been working you too hard? Fair enough. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give you a day or two off."
Harry's eyes widened. "Does that mean… are you saying we can go?"
"To the Burrow? Certainly not."
"But you just said…"
"You don't need to leave this house to take a break. Read a book, spend time with your friends… I believe there's an old chessboard around here somewhere."
Harry couldn't respond, horrified by the lump in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to cry…
"Harry?"
"What?"
"Look at me."
He wanted to refuse, but something in Snape's voice wouldn't allow it. Slowly, he lifted his head, confronted with a dark, unfathomable stare.
"You're asking me to ignore my better judgment," Snape said, "to knowingly put you at risk. Can't you understand…"
"You're the one who doesn't understand!"
"No? Then explain it to me."
"It's not… it isn't just the training. It's feeling like we're trapped here, maybe forever, wondering about the people we love and whether we'll ever see them again. When you brought us here, none of us knew… didn't even have a chance to say goodbye…"
Harry trailed off, horrified by what he'd just said. Snape stiffened, lips tightly compressed as he averted his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
"I know exactly what you meant. Better than you realize, I'm sure."
Harry had won the battle. He could tell by the resignation in Snape's voice, though it was a hollow victory. Part of him wanted to take it back, swear up and down that he'd be just fine staying at Grimmauld Place. If it hadn't been for Ron and Hermione… if it hadn't been for Ginny…
"If I let you go," Snape said, "I'll expect you to follow my instructions."
"Of course. Whatever you want."
They spent the next half hour going over the plan, repeating it twice before Snape was satisfied. Even then, he made Harry recite it back to him one last time, promising that he'd follow every bit of it to the absolute letter.
"What about Ron and Hermione?"
"We'll go through it with them tomorrow. In the meantime, there's something else I'd like to discuss."
Harry hesitated, stifling a yawn. "What's that?"
"A few weeks ago when we were discussing Horcruxes… you said you knew something about a locket?"
"Oh yeah, it's in my room."
"You mean you have…" Snape inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it's fake."
"Fake? What do you mean by 'fake'?"
Harry told him the whole story, describing that terrible night in the cave. After the briefest hesitation, he explained what he'd seen in Dumbledore's Pensieve as well, watching Snape's expression shift from curiosity to… was that triumph?
"I knew it," he said softly. "From the moment you mentioned a locket, I knew…"
"You knew it was Slytherin's?"
"Not just that. I know who took it."
"R.A.B.?" Harry frowned. "Who…"
"Someone quite close. In fact, we're sitting in his room as we speak."
"Regulus?"
As soon as Harry said it, it seemed stupidly obvious, starting with that sign on the door. The initials had been right there in front of him and he hadn't even noticed, too distracted by… well, everything, really.
"Regulus Arcturus Black," Snape said. "That was his full name."
"You were friends with him? I thought that might be why you were staying in here."
"I was, though that isn't the reason. I've been searching…"
"For the locket," Harry finished for him.
"Yes. As mentioned, I already had my suspicions. I searched the rest of the house as well, though not quite as thoroughly."
"I've never seen you…"
"You wouldn't have," Snape said. "I waited until you were asleep."
"But you didn't find anything."
"Unfortunately, no, though I do have another idea."
"What's that?" Harry said.
"The house elf."
"Kreacher? You think he might've taken it?"
"Possibly. If not, he might very well know where it is."
Harry nodded, recalling all the trinkets Kreacher had taken a couple years ago. Hadn't one of them been… yes, there had been a locket! He could picture it clearly now, wondering how he could have possibly forgotten.
"Kreacher? Kreacher!"
With a loud crack, the house elf appeared in the middle of the room. He glanced at Snape dismissively, bowing before Harry with a flourish.
"Master?"
"I have a question, and I order you to answer it truthfully."
"Yes, Master."
"That locket, the one we tossed out two years ago…"
"Two years ago?" Snape frowned.
"I'll explain in a minute," Harry said. "That locket… Kreacher, did you take it?"
"Yes."
"Well? What did you do with it?"
Getting to the truth wasn't easy. Kreacher wailed, gnashed his teeth, even attempted to bludgeon himself as he told his story. The locket had been stolen, but long before that… Harry was shocked to hear what had really happened with Regulus, that he'd chosen to sacrifice his life for…
"So that's what happened," Snape said. "I've always wondered."
"He was very brave."
"Agreed."
Kreacher nodded furiously, breaking into a fresh round of sobs. He described his attempts to destroy the locket, pausing to slam his head against the bedpost.
"Kreacher couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried…"
"Kreacher, stop! I order you to stop!"
To his relief, the house elf obeyed, wrapping his arms around his bony little knees as he rocked back and forth.
"Sorry, so sorry…"
"Kreacher, we're going to get that locket. We'll steal it back and destroy it, just like Master Regulus wanted. Will you help us?"
"Yes, yes, destroy the locket. Kreacher promised…"
"Can you go find Mundungus Fletcher? We need you to…"
"What are you doing?"
Harry jumped, startled by Snape's voice. He'd been entirely focused on Kreacher, so distracted by his histrionics that he'd forgotten anyone else was in the room.
"Fletcher's the one who took it. Shouldn't we…"
"Yes, we should, but we're not sending him."
"Then how…"
"Don't worry," Snape said, his voice quiet. "I'll take care of it."
Finding Mundungus Fletcher wasn't difficult. Getting the locket back? That was another story. The fool had given it to Dolores Umbridge, of all people, which meant it was somewhere deep in the bowels of the Ministry.
"We could use Polyjuice," Granger suggested.
"For what purpose?"
"If we disguised ourselves as employees…"
Severus shook his head. "Out of the question."
"You didn't even let her finish."
"No, I didn't, Mr. Weasley, and do you know why? Because I already knew what she was about to say."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Something about infiltrating the Ministry and stealing the locket. Am I correct, Miss Granger?"
"Yes," she said, looking sheepish, "though it's not as bad as you make it sound. No one would know it was us, we could just…"
"Impersonate people you've never met? Assuming you could pull that off, what then? Were you planning to simply walk up to Umbridge and ask for the locket? Or did you intend to snatch it from her, hoping you'd be able to escape before she set her minions on you?"
Severus knew he was right, though he still felt a twinge of guilt for embarrassing the girl. She was trying to help, after all, and it wasn't as if any of them had come up with an alternate plan. He couldn't visit the Ministry himself, nor did he have a clue where that vile woman might go when she wasn't at work. Assuming she used the Floo network…
"Kreacher."
"Pardon?"
"Kreacher," Harry said. "I know it's a risk, and trust me, I haven't forgotten what happened to Sirius. But…"
"The 'what' is far less important than the 'why'."
"What do you mean?"
"Black was the one who betrayed that creature, not the other way around. If he hadn't abused him, if he'd shown him even a modicum of respect…"
"See?" Granger interrupted, her expression eager. "Even Professor Snape gets it!"
"Even Professor Snape?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, it's just… I've been telling them for years that house elves have feelings too, that it's terrible to mistreat them, and… Sirius was awful to Kreacher! I'm sorry, but he was. You can't blame Kreacher for…"
"Siding with Death Eaters?" Weasley said. "Hermione, he's got the same beliefs that they do and you know it. All those times he's called you a Mudblood…"
"Don't use that word," Severus said.
"Sorry. Anyway, I'm just saying…"
"I know, Ron, but you're wrong," Granger said. "House elves are loyal to people, not belief systems. Isn't that why he tried so hard to destroy the locket before it was stolen? He did that because he was on Regulus's side, not anyone else's."
The more they discussed it, the more it seemed like an obvious solution. Harry had spent the past few weeks treating Kreacher with courtesy and respect, the results of which were already beginning to show. Meals were more edible. The house was noticeably cleaner. Granted, that wasn't proof of undying loyalty, but Harry hadn't given Kreacher any reason to betray him either.
"So," Harry said, "you think we should trust him?"
"Do you?"
"I think… hold on, I'll be right back."
Severus frowned, his eyes following Harry as he left the kitchen. He returned in a matter of seconds, a small locket dangling from his fingers.
"Kreacher? Come here, please."
The house elf appeared with a crack, bowing at Harry's feet.
"Yes, Master?"
"I, um, I have a gift for you"
"Gift?" The creature repeated the word as if he'd never heard it before, gazing up at Harry through huge, bulbous eyes.
"You've done so much for Regulus, for the whole family, really. You deserve a reward for your service, and I think… I know they would've wanted you to have this."
In that moment, Severus recognized two things. First, his son was bloody brilliant. Second? He'd earned himself a lifetime's worth of loyalty, guaranteeing that the elf would never turn against him. Such a small gesture, a meaningless trinket…
Kreacher collapsed, sobbing hysterically as he clutched the locket in his little fist. He pounded the floor with the other, shaking Granger off as she attempted to comfort him.
"K-Kreacher d-d-doesn't d-deserve…"
"You do deserve it," Harry said kindly. "Now please get up. I need a favor, something I can't trust to anyone but you."
"Of c-course, Master, of course! Whatever M-Master needs!"
"I need you to find someone, but you must be very careful…"
The elf listened closely despite his sniffling, repeating Harry's instructions verbatim. Satisfied, Harry gave him permission to leave, his eyes meeting Severus's as he returned to the table.
"Do you think he'll be okay?"
"He'll do as you asked, if that's what you're wondering. You made sure of that when you gave him that locket."
"No, I mean, what if he gets hurt?"
Severus hesitated, wondering how honest he should be. Yes, there was a chance that the elf might incur some injury or worse, but that was a risk they had to take. Better to lose Kreacher if it came to that than Harry or one of his friends.
"I'm sure he'll be fine."
Harry nodded, his expression relieved. "You'll be here if he gets back before we do, right?"
"Of course."
Following that, Severus insisted on going over the plan one more time. They'd be traveling to the Burrow first thing in the morning, Apparating directly into the house. It was the safest way, considering that the Floo network was under constant surveillance… he'd also armed them with plenty of Polyjuice, insisting they remain disguised around anyone who wasn't Lupin or Weasley's immediate family.
"If you suspect, even for a second, that anyone means you harm, you are to Disapparate immediately. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yeah," Weasley said. "We got it."
"Take the Invisibility Cloak, too. I expect to see you back here at 8 PM sharp the day after tomorrow. If you fail to show up…"
"We will," Granger said.
"No, let me finish." Severus paused, staring at each of them intently. "If you fail to show up, I'll have no choice but to come after you. That could easily mean blowing my cover, getting myself imprisoned or worse. While that might not seem like a devastating loss, I want you to consider the repercussions. Hogwarts is already under You-Know-Who's control… I'm the only one who can prevent the school from being run by the most vicious Death Eaters you can imagine. Your friends, your teachers…"
"We know," Harry said quietly.
Severus wasn't finished. Not even close, though he chose to restrain himself. He could see by their expressions that his message had gotten through, the room suddenly filled with a heavy, foreboding silence.
"It's getting late," he said. "The two of you should get some sleep."
"What about Harry?"
"He'll be up shortly. Good night, Mr. Weasley."
As soon as he dismissed them, he regretted it, clearing his throat several times as he fumbled in his pocket. Perhaps this was a mistake. Maybe it was too soon, or…
"Everything all right?"
"I just thought… since it's your birthday tomorrow…" Withdrawing a tiny box, he restored it to its normal size before he placed it on the table.
"You got me a present?"
Indeed, he had. He'd gone straight from his encounter with Fletcher to Diagon Alley, scouring the shops for an appropriate gift. Something practical? Frivolous? He'd agonized for more than an hour, still not certain he'd made the right choice.
"It's nothing big," he said casually. "Go ahead and open it."
Harry pulled back the paper, seeming to hold his breath as he lifted the lid off the box. Inside was a miniature replica of a Quidditch pitch, complete with all the necessary props. It even came with a collection of tiny players, all of whom lifted their heads to gaze up at their new owner.
"Since you can't play real Quidditch right now…"
"You got this? For me?"
"Yes, I thought we already established that."
"I'm sorry, it's just…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head. "It's brilliant."
Severus hesitated, doing his best to hide his relief. "I'm glad you think so. Now put it away and get to bed."
Harry nodded, handling the game like some priceless treasure as he placed it back in the box. He cradled it to his chest, turning to leave only to glance back over his shoulder.
"It would be devastating."
"Pardon?" Severus frowned.
"What you said earlier… you know, if something happened to you?"
He wasn't talking about the war. Severus knew that, humbled by the realization that his son genuinely cared whether he lived or died. Not only that, but he was willing to admit it out loud, his eyes meeting Severus's for the briefest moment before they darted away.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"You too. I mean for the present, and… well, anyway, good night."
For the next two days, Severus tried to stay busy. He cleaned the kitchen, reorganized the Black library, even read a book though he quickly forgot what it was about. Finally, he resorted to pacing, counting down the hours until Harry's return. 5 PM… 6 PM…
"Fuck!"
Why? Bloody hell, why was he being summoned? Why did it have to happen at the worst possible moment, and what excuse could he give if he didn't appear?
There was no excuse, at least, not one that Voldemort would be willing to accept. The nature of the summons was unmistakable, an urgent call that demanded immediate action. Severus had no choice but to respond, donning his mask and cloak before he touched his fingers to the Dark Mark.
Malfoy Manor? Oh no. He was standing in a field somewhere, struggling to get his bearings as a dozen other figures materialized beside him. Soon enough, their purpose became clear, his heart plummeting into his stomach as he spotted the crowd, the decorations…
No time to strategize. No chance to prepare. All he could do was join his companions, his enemies, swallowing his horror as they swooped down upon the wedding party. Screams, chaos… he managed to fire off a couple defensive spells, frantically scanning the guests for any sign of Harry. It took him a minute to remember the Polyjuice, cursing under his breath as he managed to deflect a jet of red light.
"Remember what the Dark Lord said. Don't kill them!"
Severus hadn't been given that instruction, though he was relieved by it, pretending to play his part as he allowed numerous guests to escape. The few who remained were questioned, though that proved to be a fruitless endeavor. They knew nothing of Harry's whereabouts, or so they claimed, leaving the Death Eaters no choice but to abandon their mission.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean Severus's ordeal was over. He still had to report back with the others, if for no other reason than to prove he'd been present.
"Someone must have tipped them off, my lord. If I had to guess…"
"Did I ask for your theories, Yaxley? No, I did not. I'm much more interested in your incompetence."
Severus remained quiet, knowing that Voldemort's anger wasn't directed at him. He was still very much in the Dark Lord's good graces, and besides, he hadn't been in charge of the mission.
"I'll be the first to admit we were ill-prepared," Yaxley said. "Though I expect we'll have better luck now that the Ministry is ours."
That was news to Severus, though he was careful not to react. Meanwhile, Voldemort's entire demeanor changed, red eyes glittering with satisfaction as he caressed his wand with a long, pale finger.
"Ah, yes. The Ministry is mine, as is Hogwarts. Once Severus takes over as headmaster…"
Severus sighed inwardly, realizing he wouldn't be able to slip away anytime soon. He could only hope that Harry and his friends had made it back to Grimmauld Place. If they hadn't…
Well, he wasn't ready to contemplate that just yet.
"Did you check the third floor?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "He isn't here."
They'd arrived at Grimmauld Place around 10 PM, more than two hours after they'd promised to return. He'd expected Snape to be angry, downright furious, really, bracing himself for the inevitable blowup.
Honestly? He would've preferred that. Even if Snape had refused to accept their excuses, even if he'd yelled at them for hours…
That still would've been better than returning to an empty house.
"Should we search the bedrooms?" Hermione asked. "Maybe he left a note."
Harry shook his head. "He didn't."
If he had, it would've been on the kitchen table, maybe the counter, somewhere so obvious they couldn't have missed it. He wasn't like Dumbledore, stashing clues all over the place simply because he enjoyed making them hunt for them.
"Maybe he's out looking for us," Ron said.
That was certainly possible, though it didn't make Harry feel any better. It meant that Snape would've shown up at the Burrow right in the middle of the attack, exposing himself on both sides. The Death Eaters would've wondered why he wasn't fighting with them, while the Order…
Harry had heard the gossip, dismayed by how quickly they'd lost trust in Snape. Molly had mentioned how scarce he'd been since Dumbledore's death, while Moody outright speculated that he was up to no good. All of them had agreed that he should at least be questioned… the trouble was, they didn't where to find him.
"Ignore them," Remus said under his breath. "You'll only make them suspicious if you come to his defense."
He was right. Harry knew that, though that didn't mean he liked it. He also didn't like that Remus was getting all the credit, even if Snape himself had insisted it was a necessary part of their cover.
"Are you sure they can't stay for a few more days?"
"I'm sorry, Molly, it's safer this way."
As far as everyone knew, Remus had gotten them into hiding. He'd been looking after them ever since, making sure they were safe and well cared for. He'd even taken the Dursleys to a safe house, along with Hermione's parents, risking his life in order to do so.
"You're right, Remus. Of course you are. I can't begin to tell you how grateful…"
The truth was, Remus hadn't done any of those things. Snape was the one who…
Harry lost his train of thought, jumping out of his chair as the front door swung open. He rushed into the foyer, eyes widening as he spotted the familiar, black clad figure. He almost… bloody hell, he almost wanted to hug Snape. It was a bizarre feeling, to say the least, one he couldn't have even imagined a year ago.
"It wasn't our fault! We tried…"
"I know."
Snape's face was paler than usual, his shoulders sagging as he headed toward the sitting room. He sank down on the couch, waiting for Harry to join him before he continued.
"I was there, though of course, it wasn't by choice. When the summons came…"
"Did you see Ginny?" Harry interrupted. "Ron's parents, Remus and Tonks, Bill and Fleur and Charlie, and…"
"No one was injured, at least, not seriously."
"You're sure?"
Snape nodded. "The point was to gather information, though even that was a failure. Your whereabouts remain unknown."
"What about the Ministry? Is Scrimgeour really…"
"Dead? I'm afraid so."
"It's so weird," Harry said. "I mean, yesterday I was talking to him at the Burrow, and today…"
"You talked to Scrimgeour?" Snape sat up straighter, giving him a sharp look. "Why?"
"Dumbledore's will. He left me some things. Not just me, but Ron and Hermione, too."
"Things? What things?"
"Um, there's a Snitch, and…"
"Bring them to me."
Harry didn't have the sword, but he handed over the Snitch, leaving Snape to examine it as he went to fetch Ron and Hermione… well, Hermione anyway. Ron had fallen asleep, mumbling something unintelligible as she retrieved the Deluminator from his pocket.
"A Deluminator?" Snape said, sounding distinctly unimpressed. He seemed much more interested in the book, studying the cover intently before he glanced up at Hermione.
"I'd like to keep this for a few days if you don't mind."
"Why? I mean, of course I don't mind, but what do you think it means?"
"It could be significant," Snape said, "or perhaps just a foolish gift from a sentimental old man. I'd rather not speculate any further until I've taken a closer look."
"What about the Snitch? Do you think…"
"It's well past midnight, Miss Granger, and I for one am exhausted."
"Me too," Harry said.
Snape nodded. "We'll discuss it tomorrow. For now, you two should get some sleep."
Stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket, Harry yawned as he rose from the couch. He followed Hermione upstairs, only to glance back over his shoulder as he reached the top step.
Tired or not, Snape didn't look like he'd be going to bed anytime soon. He was still clutching Hermione's copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, brow furrowed in concentration as he turned the first page.
Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the delay. The past year has been hectic, to say the least, not helped by a terrible case of writer's block. Thankfully, I'm back on track now, so stay tuned. You should see another update from me in the near future. :)
Also…
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Thanks so much for sticking with this story. Y'all are the best!
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