CHAPTER 16
Reprieve
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat at a large table Hagrid had built outside his hut, originally to give his classes a place to prepare foods to entice the appetites of the various creatures they were learning to care for. At this particular moment it was covered in books, parchment, and other evidence of heavy homework. Hagrid had been quite insistent upon keeping Harry close by all day, and Ron and Hermione were keeping him company. All of them burned with curiosity, Hagrid having been more than usually closemouthed in response to their prying questions.
"Wonder when Hagrid'll let you out of prison," Ron speculated.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, really, Ron. It's hardly prison. He's just keeping an eye on Harry. Just...watching out for him."
"Yes," Ron persisted, "but why does Harry need an eye kept on him? Any more than usual, I mean." He sniggered as Harry glanced up from his parchment and made a face.
Hermione lowered her voice dramatically. "Well, something's going on. I don't know what it is, but--" she leaned forward conspiratorially-- "I was practicing my flying on the Quidditch pitch late last night--" She got no further before Harry and Ron interrupted.
"The Quidditch pitch?"
"Late last night?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes. It's getting a lot of use in the daytime, what with Quidditch practice and flying lessons and everything, so I've--er--been going there at night." She tossed her head defiantly at the boys' incredulous looks. "What? Don't tell me you still think I'm Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Heaven knows I've participated in enough idiotic capers with the two of you over the years."
"Well, yeah, but--by yourself?" said Ron. "You should have told us--we'd have gone with you. You shouldn't be hanging round the Quidditch pitch by yourself at night, Hermione. You'll get caught."
Hermione exhaled loudly. "Do you want to hear what I was going to tell you?" she asked sharply. "Or not?"
"Go ahead, Hermione," Harry said. "We're listening." He sent a mock-warning glance at Ron, who immediately sat up straight and folded his hands in front of him on the table, a patently false cherubic expression plastered onto his face. Hermione surveyed the two of them with deep disgust.
"Fine, then pay attention. I was flying above the Quidditch pitch--I'd gotten really quite high up, and I was a bit worried about falling--and I looked all around to make sure no one was about before I came down. I saw Dumbledore and Snape come out of the castle, so I stayed up where I was--it was pretty dark and they didn't see me, but I was afraid they would if I went any lower. They went to Hagrid's hut and talked to him for a minute, then they started down the road to Hogsmeade and Disapparated."
Ron shrugged. "So? Maybe they had business somewhere. What's so interesting about that?"
"In the middle of the night?" Hermione said. "On a school night?" It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes.
Harry said thoughtfully, "I wonder if it had anything to do with Professor McGonagall and Aunt Trillium not being at dinner last night." He still couldn't quite get used to calling Professor Lovejoy "Aunt", but he liked the sound of it. He had of course told Ron and Hermione about his new-found relative, and they had loyally kept it to themselves, feeling it was Harry's news to tell when and to whom he wished.
Hagrid rounded the corner of his hut, wiping garden soil off his hands and onto his filthy trousers. He surveyed his charges with evident satisfaction.
"And what might the three of you be thinkin' about so solemn an' all?" he inquired.
Hermione sent Harry and Ron a warning glance. "Oh, nothing," she said blithely. "Just passing the time."
"Ah." Hagrid seemed to accept this at face value, until he noticed that the boys avoided looking him in the eye. His face bunched up in a scowl of concentration. "Yeh wouldn't be up ter anythin', now, would yeh?" Three innocent faces turned to him, but he waved a large hand dismissively. "Ah, those innocent looks don't fool me," he said gruffly. "Yer always up to summat." His bright glance moved suspiciously from one pair of shifty eyes to another. "Mind, now, Dumbledore put me in charge of yeh. If aught goes wrong with yeh, it's my head'll roll." Shaking his shaggy head, he muttered, "Much yeh care about that."
"No, Hagrid, honest," Hermione said earnestly. "We're not up to anything. But--" She glanced at the boys. "We think Dumbledore and Snape might be. They were out awfully late last night, weren't they, for a school night?" She smiled engagingly.
Hagrid grunted. "Well, they had to go to Number Twelve, o' course. To see how Professor Lovejoy was gettin' along."
"Aunt Trillium?" Harry said. "What do you mean, how she's getting along? What's wrong with her?"
Hagrid smacked his forehead, marking it with a large streak of potting soil. "I shouldn't have said that; I should not have said that." He shook his head dismissively. "I'll not say another word about it. Yeh'll have to ask Dumbledore himself, if you want to know, and see if yeh can worm it out o' him. Not another word will I say!" And he bustled off, the sound of his scolding drifting back to them as he disappeared behind his hut.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at each other in consternation.
"Good heavens," Hermione finally exclaimed faintly. "Just what on earth can they be up to?"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Snape was in a quandary. He wanted nothing more than to see Voldemort destroyed. He knew he could never completely relax or let down his guard as long as Voldemort was at large. His new-found romantic side chafed at the knowledge as the possibility of a life with Trillium Lovejoy beckoned temptingly.
Now, with more than half of his Death Eaters captured during the Order's raid on Malfoy Manor, his hostage stolen, and Snape rescued before Voldemort had been able to exact any satisfying revenge, Voldemort had to be furious, and more dangerous than ever.
Snape heard the pop! of someone Apparating nearby, followed by hushed voices in the corridor outside the library. He wasn't paying much attention, so it startled him when he suddenly heard Trillium's name mentioned. Curious, he got up and went to the door, abruptly pulling it all the way open.
Madam Pomfrey stood there, having just relinquished her outdoor cloak to Molly Weasley. They both turned as Snape appeared in the doorway of the library.
"Oh! Severus, I'm so sorry we've disturbed you," Molly said. "Poppy's just arrived to see to Trillium. Would you be a dear and take her up?" She patted his arm and bustled back to the kitchen, from whence the sounds and aromas of dinner preparations issued forth.
Snape indicated wordlessly that Madam Pomfrey should precede him up the stairs. She did, for once not chattering, her blue eyes lacking their usual sparkle. He paused outside his bedroom, hand on the doorknob, taking a moment to brace himself before entering. It was almost more than he could bear to see his Trillium lying there like an empty shell every time he went into the room.
Madam Pomfrey put an encouraging hand on his arm. "Would you like to stay out here?" she whspered, her eyes kind. Snape shook his head.
"No," he said hoarsely. "I--I need to see her." Slowly he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Then he stopped short in amazement.
"Trillium?" he breathed. She was sitting up in the bed, one hand to her head, looking confused. Snape and Madam Pomfrey rushed to her, the latter clucking like a hen scratching for corn.
"Now, now--what's this? I'm not sure you should be up, my dear," Madam Pomfrey fretted. She felt Professor Lovejoy's forehead briefly and put a supporting arm round her shoulders. "Severus--the pillows, if you please."
Snape jumped to obey, plumping up the pillows and amassing a large pile of them behind Professor Lovejoy. Madam Pomfrey eased her gently back onto them.
"Good gracious," she exclaimed, pulling up the blanket and smoothing out the sheets. "We'd no idea you would be waking so soon! They'll all be quite relieved downstairs, I must say. Such a fright as you gave us!"
Professor Lovejoy smiled faintly at her fussing. Over Madam Pomfrey's white cap her eyes met Snape's briefly with just a hint of their previous laughter showing before she closed them again in exhaustion. Madam Pomfrey tsk'd at this and hovered uncertainly by the bedside.
"Well--I suppose you'd like to get some rest now," she said hesitantly. "Is there anything we can do for you, dear?" Without waiting for an answer, she added in a stage whisper to Snape, "I don't think she should be left alone--just in case she has a relapse, you know."
With an obvious effort, Professor Lovejoy opened her eyes again. "I'm all right," she said softly. "Just...so tired. I just want to sleep."
Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Well, and sleep may be the best thing for you," she agreed. Again she muttered to Snape, "As long as it really is a normal sleep this time." She shook her head but looked marginally less worried than when she had arrived.
Snape stepped to the door and said quietly, "I'll just keep watch for a while, shall I?" Madam Pomfrey appeared inclined to feel that she should perform this task herself, until she saw the almost hungry look with which Snape regarded Professor Lovejoy.
"Ah...certainly, Severus. Yes, to be sure. I'll just go let the others know the good news," she said. She tiptoed out of the room. Snape, leaving the door ajar, walked over to the bedside and stood there looking down at its pale occupant. Gently he passed his hand over the curve of her cheek.
"Sleep well, Trillium," he whispered. "I'll be right here with you, my love." She sighed in her sleep and turned her face into his hand. Her skin felt warmer now and she was visibly regaining her natural color.
Snape moved the armchair closer to the bed and sat down, perched on the edge of the chair, waiting. And while he waited, he planned.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The next morning Professor Lovejoy awoke to see an uncomfortably scrunched-looking Snape crammed into the chair, sound asleep. For a moment she just laid there, watching him--a rare opportunity and one not to be missed. It figured, she thought, that it took complete unconsciousness for Snape to look that untroubled and--the thought came unbidden--not sarcastic.
She yawned and started to sit up, but immediately groaned and flopped back onto the mountain of pillows.
The slight sound was enough to wake Snape. His eyes flew open and he was on his feet in an instant.
"What is it, Trillium?" he asked. "Shall I fetch Poppy?"
Professor Lovejoy shook her head slowly. "No...oh, I can't even seem to get up by myself!" Carefully Snape helped her maneuver until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She tried to stand, but her legs were so shaky she had to sit again almost immediately. She slumped a little. "I feel as if I'd rolled down a hillside full of boulders. Whatever is wrong with me?"
He looked at her consideringly. "You mean--you don't remember?" he asked hesitantly. This possibility had not occurred to him.
"What do you mean--remember what?" she asked in a puzzled voice. "Severus, exactly what am I doing in bed?" She moved her arms gingerly. "Nothing seems broken, but I'm as weak as a baby."
Snape watched as she obviously tried to dredge up a memory that would answer her questions. He was uncertain how much he should tell her.
"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.
She thought. "Hogsmeade, I think. Yes, that's right--Minerva and I were in Hogsmeade." She frowned. "We were walking back to Hogwarts, about to be late for dinner. Minerva said something about the birds--they had stopped singing." She looked at him. "Wasn't that an odd thing to notice?"
"Then what?" he prompted. He tried to restrain his impulse to badger the whole story out of her, instead fixing a look of polite interest on his face.
Suddenly her face paled and she threw him a horrified look. "Minerva!" she cried. "Oh, Merlin, they hexed Minerva! Severus, is she all right?"
"What?" Snape was taken aback by the abrupt change in direction her thoughts had taken. "Oh. Yes, of course. We found her on the road--" He broke off as Professor Lovejoy gasped.
"The Death Eaters! Oh, how could I have forgotten?" she cried. "I remember now. They must have Apparated with me..." Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a surprised O as she turned to Snape with sudden clarity.
"Voldemort," she breathed. "Severus, Voldemort is at Malfoy Manor." She shuddered in revulsion. Snape took her icy hands in his and chafed them to bring warmth back into them. He waited for her to tell him more.
"So that's what it's like," she said slowly. "To be put under the Cruciatus curse. It was--" She shook her head. "I don't remember much. I don't think I want to remember. I think I would have said anything to stop the pain. Oh, Severus--" She looked at him in dismay. "What if I told him something that could hurt the Order?" Tears sprang to her eyes. "What if I told him something that could hurt you?"
Snape pulled her into his lap in the armchair. "You couldn't possibly," he said reassuringly. "It's obvious from the fact that he knew to take you at all that he knows what you mean to me." He tipped her face up to look her in the eye. "But you're here now, safe." He kissed her brow. "It's a bloody miracle, is what it is. And not one I'm going to take lightly. I've wasted enough time as it is."
Professor Lovejoy looked a question at him. He cleared his throat and said, "Trillium--do you think you could--that is, would you possibly be--" He trailed off, closing his eyes in frustration. He hadn't imagined this would be so difficult.
He felt her hand on his face and turned to press a kiss into her palm. He looked up to see her smiling at him with the old warmth in her eyes. She said only one word, but it was enough to lift him to the height of happiness, a lofty place he had never thought he would be fortunate enough to know:
"Yes!"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Professor Lovejoy's miraculous recovery was the talk of Hogwarts. As Dumbledore had said on a previous, similar occasion, it was a secret--so, naturally, the whole school knew.
What was more, word had leaked out about her impending nuptials--and to Snape, of all people! Absolutely everyone had an opinion on the subject; discussion could be heard in every corner of the castle.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione were no exception. They sat in the Library, ostensibly working on their Transfiguration homework and keeping an eye out for Madam Pince. The boys were incredulous. "She could have anyone," Ron kept saying. "Anyone! And she had to go and pick Snape!" He shook his head sorrowfully. "That's just not right."
Harry was concerned on a whole other level. "You do realize what this means, don't you?" he asked in a hollow voice. "If she goes through with this--this wedding, he'll be my uncle."
Ron gaped at him. "That's right--blimey, I'd forgotten about that. Ah, Harry, you're in for it now--Dursleys on one side and Snape on the other!" He rolled his eyes. "You'd better come live with us, mate. Otherwise you'll never have any peace!"
Suddenly Madam Pince popped out from behind a bookshelf with a militant glint in her eye. "Quiet!" she whispered fiercely. "Or you can take yourselves off somewhere else." She swept off with an ominous backward glance, finger to her lips. Harry, Ron, and Hermione pretended studious attention to their books until she was gone, then resumed the conversation where they had left off.
Hermione said, "Oh, nonsense, Ron. Don't go filling Harry's head with such rubbish. Maybe Snape has changed." Her eyes grew dreamy. "You know what they say about the love of a good woman." Harry and Ron threw her identical looks of scornful disbelief, but she forged on.
"No, really. Look--Professor Lovejoy obviously thinks the world of him. So there must be something good about him. I mean, she's no fool, Harry."
"Not normally," he agreed, "but she's in love, which amounts to practically the same thing." Now it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes.
"Well, she's your aunt. You like her--don't you want her to be happy?" she asked.
Harry slouched over the table, doodling a line of little dots down a scrap of parchment with his quill. He shrugged, not saying anything.
"Well, don't you?" Hermione persisted.
Harry flung the quill aside. "Of course I want her to be happy," he said. "Just not with him, that's all." Hermione shook her head at his stubbornness. He looked up and caught her. An unwilling smile crossed his face. "You can't really blame me, can you?" he asked. "After all, Voldemort never would have gone after her if it hadn't been for her--connection--with Snape. How's that supposed to make her happy?"
Ron smirked. "He's got you there, Hermione."
She leaned toward them earnestly. "But don't you remember what Dumbledore's always said about love?" she reminded them. "He says it's the greatest force in the universe. It can accomplish miracles. Surely you haven't forgotten that, Harry?"
He shrugged. "What's your point?"
Hermione threw up her hands. "My point, you idiots--" she included Ron in her glare-- "is that just maybe Snape and Professor Lovejoy's both loving each other so much will keep them safe." Harry snorted rudely.
"Right. And I suppose a miracle will happen and their love for each other--" he laid one hand on his heart dramatically, and laid the back of his other hand against his brow in melodramatic fashion-- "will overcome Voldemort and save the day." Ron guffawed. Hermione, disgusted with both of them, opened her mouth to say something else, but just then Madam Pince made a reappearance.
"That's it, that is it!" she exclaimed. "Out with you now, all of you! And if you can't be respectful of others who are trying to work, stay out! Miss Granger, I would have expected better of you." She shooed them out into the corridor, then went back inside, shutting the door with an emphatic bang.
Ron was unrepentant. "Well, that's nice--slamming the door when people are trying to study! C'mon, Harry," he said, "let's go visit Hagrid for a while. I'll bet he's missing us something awful this year since we don't have his class any more." They headed toward the entrance hall. Hermione tsk'd and went in the opposite direction to see if the Gryffindor common room might be more conducive to studying.
Dumbledore remained in the Library where he had listened with great interest to their conversation from just inside the Restricted Section. Hmm, he thought to himself. A bit simplistic--but not a bad plan at all, no indeed. She might just have something there. His eyes twinkled. Whether she realized it or not.
But then, you always could trust Hermione to come up with a solution.