Hermione sat with Draco Malfoy at a small table in the Healer's lounge at St. Mungo's. It was Friday afternoon, and they were having a well-earned break in the waning hours of their shifts. Hermione was explaining her frustrating experience with a new potion to ease the aftereffects of a Blast Ended Skrewt burn. The potion was supposed to soothe as it reduced the likelihood for scarring, but her patient had explained that while it had soothed the burn, his skin had wrinkled more, and Hermione had agreed that a scar was going to be left. "I don't even know why we employ the use of this potion if it doesn't do half of what it's supposed to! I eventually gave the poor man a small bottle of my own scar care cream. The burn was running right across his face, and he's getting married in three months."
"Where did he get a Blast Ended Skrewt?" Draco asked at the conclusion of her story.
"I don't want to know. I thought they had all died out at the end of the Triwizard. It's not as if they were supposed to ever exist to begin with. I don't know what Hagrid was thinking." Hermione shook her head and leveled a glare at Draco before he could add what was sure to be a colorful commentary of the half-giant. Draco raised his hands up in a slight surrender. "How has your meeting about implementing new protocols for curse patients? I thought your research was sound."
"It went well. They agreed that diagnostic testing must be run immediately, and the first round of low potency potions should be administered before isolation and observation is initiated. It's our greatest chance of stopping the spread of curse damage and will allow the potions to work with the counter-spells to prohibit long-term effects. Physical or otherwise. The department head is going to pass it along to the board." Draco allowed himself a small smile and Hermione reached across the space to give his hand a small, congratulatory squeeze. She was proud of his work; Draco was one of the few Healers that specialized in working on curse patients, most other Healers were too wary of the grey and dark magic associated with the curses that landed patients at St. Mungo's. Hermione knew that Draco's traumatic childhood left him uniquely suited to manage that fear and allow himself to be an effective Healer.
"That's great news," she said as she removed her hand. She ran it up to push an errant curl from her peripheral view. She felt Draco watching her movements, his eyes lingering on her forearm, the faint outline of her scar was visible at this close range. Hermione caught the way Draco's mouth tightened and his fingers tapped once on the table. "She didn't use a cursed blade."
Draco nodded at her words. The two never spoke directly of the events at Malfoy Manor during the war. Hermione had made her peace with it, forgiving Draco's role in that horrible day, but she knew he struggled when he caught sight of the slur permanently etched into her arm. She watched him shift minutely in his chair and refocused his eyes before speaking. "What was Potter here for the other day?"
Hermione allowed the topic shift but felt guarded at revealing Harry's reasons for visiting Hermione two days prior. She had been quietly struggling all week with the weight of possibility. The hope that the note Harry found would lead to a break in a task Hermione had failed at. The failure she had not fully forgiven herself for, even if she had told Harry otherwise. The mystery of Severus Snape was like a phantom limb; the majority of the time, Hermione could accept that it was gone, but at odd moments should could feel it flare-begging to be recognized. She was looking forward to her meeting with Andromeda the next day. But Hermione was unsure of how much she should share with Draco. It involved members of his family, and a man that she could imagine he had complicated feelings about. She opted for a half truth. "He came to tell me something about Teddy, Remus and Tonks' son, and invite me to Andromeda's house for a visit tomorrow."
"Ah," Draco acknowledged with a slow nod. She thought maybe he didn't fully believe that she spoke truthfully. "Do you see 'Dromeda often?"
"Um, no. Not often." Hermione replied, her brain working at the use of an unfamiliar nickname for Teddy's grandmother. "I try to see Teddy as much as my schedule allows, and when I see him it necessitates a visit with Andromeda."
A silence settled between the two. Draco's eyes fell to the table and Hermione evaluated her former childhood bully. She ventured into the new territory, gently asking, "Do you see Andromeda often?"
He raised his eyes at this. Hermione sat as placidly as possible. Draco drew a breath. "I began owling her during my house arrest. Since that time, I have visited with her once a month."
Hermione was surprised by his honesty, and more surprised by his decision to reach out to his disowned aunt. "Andromeda has never mentioned your visits."
"Then she has kept her word."
Draco rose from the table with a set jaw, and Hermione knew the conversation was over. She wouldn't push, and Draco would offer no more. There was irritation, anger, deceit, and another undefinable emotion sweeping off of Draco. She stood from her chair and took the two steps to close the space between herself and Draco. At her entrance into his personal space, Draco looked down upon her, and Hermione looked up into his pale eyes. They stayed like that for a few moments, each reading the others' face, each unsuccessful in cracking the other's shields. "Our lies don't become us any longer, Granger."
"No, they don't Malfoy."
-xx-
The sitting room of Andromeda's house was bright, and Teddy Lupin sat on the floor playing with small figures of magical creatures. Harry sat next to him, encouraging the boy to explore his imagination, being mindful to only charm the non-threatening creatures to be "alive". Hermione and Andromeda watched from their chairs, Hermione smiling warmly at her best friend. She knew Harry cherished Teddy and had been an active participant in the raising of the small boy. They all missed Remus and Tonks, spiteful at the loss of two people just starting their lives together. Harry had taken his mantle of godfather with a relish and ease everyone, but Hermione, had been surprised by. He was born to lead, and he was born to care. The boy that had grown up with no family loved fiercely, and Hermione understood why he would make an excellent father whenever his time came.
Hermione turned to Andromeda when Harry raised his eyebrows at her, silently prodding her into the conversation they were there for. She cleared her throat. "Andromeda, I was wondering if I could ask you about Severus Snape."
Andromeda looked at Hermione, a fleeting shock in her eyes before she reschooled her features to appear more mildly surprised and resigned. "What about Severus Snape? I hardly knew the man. We didn't attend school together, barely interacted more than a half dozen times before his death."
"Yet, you have a note from him on your kitchen table. It discusses potion ingredients-a healing potion perhaps-and expresses gratitude at your continued assistance." Hermione responded, hoping she sounded factual and not accusing. The note Harry had told her about earlier in the week was in the same place in the kitchen as it had been when Harry originally discovered it. Hermione had taken a surreptitious moment early in the visit to read it, confirming both the contents and the handwriting. Snape had written to Andromeda, and it had every appearance of a recent correspondence. "How is that possible? Severus Snape has been dead over two years."
Andromeda dropped her head. She glanced at Harry who had the decency to look apologetic. He picked Teddy up and carried him out of the room, which Andromeda allowed, and Hermione was grateful for. "Please, Andromeda. I don't know how much Harry has told you of my interest in the...unusual circumstances...surrounding Snape's death, but this is the first chance I've had at understanding it."
"Harry has told me. He was rightly terrified of the state you had worked yourself into while he was away at training." Andromeda readjusted herself in the chair, a gentle smile on her face as she looked at Hermione. "I know you're a bright witch, and the fact that this has eluded you for so long has probably been a burden to you. I'm sure you're not used to understanding every puzzle you've been presented. But this was never a puzzle you were meant to know of, much less attempt to solve. And I know you hope I hold all of the pieces of it, but I am only one of many."
Hermione had practically fallen off her chair she had moved so close to the edge of it, hanging on Andromeda's every word. The greatest reality of the older witch's words were heavy in her head, they sunk deeply into her chest. "He's alive, isn't he?"
