Chapter Thirty
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The Gryffindor boys dormitory was dark and heavy with the sounds of sleep. Hermione slipped through the door and immediately spelled Remus Lupin deeper into sleep, lest his werewolf senses wake him. Then she stunned, disillusioned and levitated James Potter out of his bed, down the stairs and into the common room.
The room was empty at this early hour, but for good measure, Hermione sealed all the doors and silenced the room, before turning her attention to James. She placed him in a chair and turned him to face her, his head lolling with sleep.
"Ennervate." Hermione said.
James came to and blinked around the common room sleepily. Then his gaze fell on Hermione and abruptly he jerked awake, leaping to his feet and struggling for his wand.
"It isn't there," Hermione told him.
"What are you - why are you -"
"Sit down."
James didn't sit but stared around wildly.
"Sirius!" He shouted. "Sirius! She's got me!"
"Oh for God's sake," Hermione said and flicked her wand at James. He fell back into the chair, unable to move.
"You can't take me out!" he said, discovering he could still speak. "My father will -"
"This isn't about the tournament," Hermione snapped, feeling that she had little patience for James on this night. "I need to borrow some things from you. In return, I'll offer you and Sirius one hour of specialised training each, and a one-time password for the Slytherin common room."
James stared. "Like hell this isn't about the tournament! I'm not going to fall for it! We won't be backing out no matter what you offer us."
"For fuck's sake Potter, I need your help! If you don't want to play along then fine, I'll owe you a favour later. But I need the map and the cloak. Now."
James fell silent. He regarded Hermione with surprise.
"Why on earth would I lend you those?"
"Because I need them," Hermione said. "Look, this is really important. I need help, and nobody else can do it."
James sighed. Hermione was playing on his essentially good nature, but it was working.
"What do you need them for?" he asked resignedly, and the battle was won.
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Just before dawn, Hermione slipped out of the dungeons. Nobody saw her leave. With the map and cloak, she was unaccosted until she arrived at the witch with the humped back. The walk to Hogsmeade was long, and the dark tunnel swallowed up the meagre wandlight.
When Hermione emerged from Honeydukes into Hogsmeade it was dawn, and the sun was rising. The ground glittered with frost, and the distant hills were bluish in the tender light. She walked on, past the Three Broomsticks and the Post Office, down the cobbled street past the Hog's Head and then all the way out of town.
Everything was beautiful, and yet in this strange stillness lay the most terrible loneliness she had ever known.
Hermione shivered. She removed the invisibility cloak and disapparated.
In Diagon Alley, it was so early that shop owners were only just beginning to unlock their doors and windows and set their wares outside, and several owls hooted softly as she passed the emporium.
The Witches clinic was at the far end of Diagon Alley, at the opposite end to Knockturn Alley. It was a small nondescript building sandwiched between two shops, and only a sign - Diagon Alley Witches Health Clinic - revealed what it was.
A bell tinkled as Hermione pushed the door open and found an empty waiting room. The reception witch behind the counter smiled at Hermione and covered a yawn with her hand.
"Good morning. Have you got an appointment?"
"Yes."
"Your name?"
"Lavender Brown."
"And how are you paying for your appointment today?"
Hermione slid a money pouch across the counter.
The receptionist opened the pouch and counted up the galleons. Then she gestured to a chair.
"Please have a seat. I'll just go upstairs and see if Healer Smith is ready for you."
Hermione perched on the chair. Across the room, the receptionist disappeared up a set of stairs, wholly nondescript in appearance but to Hermione a sudden source of unease. She swallowed reflexively.
Somewhere a cuckoo clock began to chime.
Water flushed.
The bell above the shop door jangled again.
The door opened. Hermione turned her head slightly to look and did a double-take. Of all the unfortunate encounters that she could have had in this place. It was Molly Weasley.
Molly had grown since their last encounter. Her belly was so large that it looked obscene, distended and grotesque. The two babies must be jostling for space.
Molly rang the bell on the counter and waited. Hermione was motionless. She didn't breathe. Molly tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter and then sat down with a deep groan, running a hand over her swollen stomach.
Hermione looked at the floor. Of all of the days and of all of the clinics, she had ended in the one that would set her on track for a meeting with this woman. If perhaps she could just stay very still...
But barely thirty seconds had passed before Molly turned to Hermione and said: "Your first, love?"
Hermione jerked her head stiffly in something that may have been a nod. She stared at the floor, listening for footsteps on the stairs. If the receptionist would just come back quickly then all might be well.
"Lucky you," Molly chuckled. "I'm on number four and five."
Hermione said nothing. Molly peered sideways as though wondering why her waiting room companion was so quiet and then paused.
"Bless my days," Molly said in a much quieter voice. "Hermione Black. What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
Hermione drew her wand. But as the first syllable of a spell trembled on her lips she found her voice had gone. A silencing spell had been cast upon her.
Hermione looked up in alarm and met Molly's eyes. The older woman sighed at her.
"Don't try and hex a pregnant woman love," she whispered. "It's not worth the hassle. I'm not going to tell anyone I saw you here."
Hermione worked her throat furiously and could speak again after a second. She stared at Molly in a mixture of irritation and self-recrimination, annoyed that she had forgotten how quick Molly Weasley could be with her wand.
"So when I asked you last time we met if you had any of your own you weren't entirely truthful with me," Molly said wryly.
"Stop," Hermione said. Her grip tightened on her wand.
"Don't worry, love," Molly said. "It happens to the best of us. Word of warning though - people will find out eventually. Better to get used to it before they do."
Hermione considered hexing Molly but knew it was fruitless.
"Just shut up," she snapped. "And I'd better not hear a word about this to anyone."
Molly was silent then and Hermione stared at the floor. The carpet tiles were pale beige and she distracted herself by counting the whorls of the thread. She had counted eighty-seven before Molly spoke again.
"Are you here for what I'm thinking you're here for?"
"It's none of your business if I am."
"So you are," Molly pressed. When Hermione didn't speak, she sighed deeply.
"Ah," Molly said after a moment. "I see. Difficult."
Hermione said nothing and continued counting the beige carpet. If only Molly would stop talking or the receptionist would return. But Molly seemed unable to let things lie. She put a hand on Hermione's arm.
"Are you alright?" Molly said softly.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but couldn't. There was a lump in her throat.
Molly heaved herself up and walked over to a water dispenser. She filled a cup of water and brought it back to Hermione.
"You look like you haven't slept in days," Molly said.
The small kindness was unbearable, and Hermione wished that Molly would recriminate her in some way instead. Her hand, as she took the water, was trembling.
Molly sat down again with a sigh.
"Now why don't you tell me what's going on? I know I'm all but a stranger to you, love, but sometimes that can help. If you'd got the help you needed at home I doubt you'd be sitting here at seven o'clock on a Monday morning."
Although Molly was young she had the look of a mother in her plump face and kindly eyes. It was enough that Hermione almost wished she could put her arms around her, and lean her head against Molly's shoulder.
In a few brief sentences, Hermione told Molly what had happened. Molly listened and nodded, saying nothing.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Hermione asked.
Molly shook her head. "Oh, it isn't my place to say. You've made your choice, and though it isn't the one I would've made, we can all make our own choices."
Molly peered at Hermione.
"Or have you made this choice for yourself?"
Hermione said nothing but the anguished expression in her face spoke for her, and Molly sighed deeply before sitting back.
"Well then that's another matter, isn't it? What is it, the father won't have it?"
"No, it's not that," Hermione said. Her lips felt numb and motionless.
"The war then, is it? Dumbledore has you playing spy, and you're keeping your cover?"
"No," Hermione frowned, thinking that there were some awfully specific guesses coming from Molly. The older woman shrugged and sighed.
"Look, you don't have to talk to me. You don't even have to listen to me, although I thought you looked like you could do with some talking and listening after seeing you sat there. But I do know what you're feeling now."
Hermione's face must have betrayed her scepticism because Molly ticked off on her fingers.
"I know you feel like the stupidest person on the planet, and you're terrified and guilty, and feel like there's no way out. I know how inevitable everything feels - either you've got to have this thing you don't want, or you have to go through this horrible process you don't want and live with it forever. I know you're afraid of what people you love will say and do, and I know you're afraid of your entire world getting turned upside down. And you can't even imagine how you're going to get through this."
Molly tilted her head at Hermione.
"You're not the only one who's been here. Am I close?"
Hermione closed her eyes in defeat and nodded. "Yes," she said, so quietly that Molly could have barely heard.
Molly looked at Hermione a moment longer.
"Where's your mother, love?" she asked. "You shouldn't be going through all this alone."
"She's dead," Hermione said, the lump in her throat growing painful. She stared fixedly at her knees. Molly sucked in a breath. She reached out and gently laid a hand on Hermione's knee.
"Right then," she said. "I'm not old enough to be your mother, but I've got three little ones at home and I know what I'd say if one of them was sitting in your chair now. If you're doing this then you need to be sure. You don't get a second shot at this if you change your mind later. You have to live with it forever, whatever you decide. So you have to make sure you're making the right decision for you, and that takes time."
Hermione shrugged off Molly's hand abruptly. The receptionist opened the door and gestured to Hermione, and she stood. She turned back to Molly, who was watching her with a beseeching expression. Hermione took in Molly's massive stomach, the circles under her eyes, and her pale face.
"I am making the right decision for me," she said quietly. And then she followed the receptionist up the stairs.
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One hour later Hermione stood under the invisibility cloak outside the Slytherin common room as students streamed out and past her, heading for breakfast. Arabel came past first, and then Rabastan and the rest of her friends, and then finally Severus trailed a little way behind.
Hermione stepped forward and pressed her hand into his, and before Severus could react, she moved quickly away down the corridor. When Severus unfolded his fingers he would see a note scrawled across his palm in magical ink.
Seventh-floor corridor. Now.
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Severus didn't like surprises, and as Hermione stepped out from behind the tapestry his shoulders were tense and his jaw set as he stared at the wall.
"Sev," she said, and he turned. His eyebrows drew together.
"Is this a joke?" he demanded.
"No," Hermione said. And before Severus could say another word she gestured to him to stay silent, and she turned to the wall. As she began to pace back and forwards Hermione let her wishes seep outwards into the wall in front of her. And when the door appeared she opened it and gestured to Severus to go in
"What is this?" Severus said, staring at the door with deep suspicion.
"Go on," Hermione said. "Trust me."
Severus gripped his wand, and then he walked into the room. Hermione followed him and her breath caught. The Room of Requirement had done its job and more.
"What is this place?" Severus asked, and his voice caught.
Hermione gazed at what her thoughts and desires had manifested in surprise. The room in front of them was a cosy living room. It had bookshelves running all along one wall and a low burning fire in the other. There were two wing-backed armchairs, and a walnut-wood coffee table in the middle with potions texts stacked on top.
"It's…" Hermione began, but Severus turned in a slow circle and interrupted her.
"It's my parents home. But...it's so different. It's beautiful. It's warm. What the fuck is this place Hermione?" Severus asked, his eyes wild.
"It's called the Room of Requirement," Hermione said softly. "It becomes whatever you ask it to become. You pace in front of the room seven times and think about what you want it to become and it turns into that."
Severus barked a laugh. "And you went for my parent's filthy house, and cleaned it up a bit?"
Hermione hesitated and bit her lip. "No," she said. "I asked the room for something that would look like a home to you."
Whatever retort had been on Severus's lips died away. Hermione seized her chance to fill the gap and stepped towards him quickly.
"I didn't do it," she said rapidly. "I didn't get rid of it. I was going to, but then I met...well it doesn't matter, but I realised that if I was going to get rid of this baby, our baby, then I might as well be giving up on everything. And the war isn't worth all that."
Severus stared at her.
"You didn't do it? You're still…"
Hermione nodded.
Severus seemed unable to speak, and Hermione took the chance again.
"I wanted to show you what it could be like. If we finish this war if we manage to kill him. We could have a home Sev, we could be a family."
Hermione's voice broke on the last word, and she wiped away tears furiously. She had prepared this speech but now could hardly make it through it. But she had to finish.
"I had a letter from Lord Voldemort. He told me that I have to marry Rabastan. But I won't do it Sev, I won't. I'll give up on spying if I have to, but I'm not giving up you. Not ever."
Hermione took a deep breath.
"Severus Snape, will you marry me?"
Severus stared at Hermione, his dark eyes wide and astonished. His face was, at that moment, utterly unguarded. He cleared his throat and seemed to be trying to say several things, but in the end, all he said was yes. And it was enough.
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Thanks for reading,
Cas
