The Pitfalls of Being an Insufferable Know-it-all

Twenty Four

The day after Severus's arrest I spent mostly feeling sick with unease. I, of course, knew nothing of what was going on. The only link I had to the Auror Office was Harry and Ron, neither of whom were assigned to the investigation. I felt too guilty about my own deception to actively lean on them for gossip. Therefore, I was at the mercy of their generosity.

The arrest had occurred too late in the day for inclusion in the Evening Prophet, but come the arrival of the Daily Prophet that morning, it was front page news. I could barely look at it — his grim set eyes staring fiercely at me — let alone read the text. When I could bring myself to read it, it was clear the details were still somewhat scant, but the speculation not so much.

I felt my stomach twist with dread and frustration. I knew if he were not released quickly, the papers would dine out on this story for some time.

I dragged myself into work unable to shake off my anxiety. I sat uselessly at my desk and wondered at what might be unfolding only a few floors away. But of course, he could handle himself. There was little doubt about that.

I had enough wit about me to notice my superiors spent most of the morning ensconced in a meeting. I wished for another Extendable Ear opportunity, but one never arose. I could only imagine their discussion — how best to distance the Ministry from their previous association with Severus Snape, no doubt.

I anticipated, or hoped, that come the evening he would be released — either without charge or pending further investigation. The day came and went, and so did the evening, and then nothing.

When I grabbed the Daily Prophet on my way into the Ministry the next morning, I felt my legs tremble with dread. There were pages devoted to it. Not only that, but the paper had done its digging and had identified Severus's professional history with Cresswell, Cresswell's previous form with regard to illegal trafficking, and posited a link to his murder. They stopped short of saying Severus had undertaken the killing, but it was implied.

From there, things went from bad to worse quite quickly. The next morning it was announced Severus had already been transferred to Azkaban to await a trial. I could only goggle for a good ten minutes at the list of charges that had been presented to the Wizengamot. Theft; smuggling; fraud… and the icing on the cake was that there was an ongoing investigation into whether he was involved in Cresswell's death.

It seemed to me they could not have charged him based on only those photographs, so what else had they unearthed?

I turned the page and found myself looking at a photograph of the building housing the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Theobald Ridley stood on the steps, as if giving some sort of press conference. I scanned quickly through the accompanying text and found the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The Society had taken the unprecedented move of removing their erstwhile leader without investigation, and into the breach had stepped a very willing Ridley. That, perhaps, was not unexpected. What I had not expected, on the other hand, was that Ridley should announce they had uncovered malpractice on their former leader's part at the Society and that the information had been passed to the Auror Office.

I threw the paper down as if it had burned me. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand it much longer. The thought of him in Azkaban...

What should I do? This was my perpetual refrain. I wished there was a way I could speak to Severus to find out what his thoughts were, but that was impossible.

I had to ignore the sense that this whole charade was slipping away from me - from us, even. Instead, I sought something far more useful to me. It was focus and determination and a cold sense of umbrage. I snatched up my cloak and bag and took off to Edinburgh straight away. I did not feel the icy blast as I Apparated into a slush of snow. I trudged around to the front of the building to find a large oak door was closed across the revolving door. I stepped up and banged my fist on the door, knowing full well it was fruitless.

The Society was shut.

Resisting to give the door an impotent kick, I turned and considered the quiet street before me. What I had intended if I had got inside the Society remained a mystery to me, therefore I could see I should perhaps be glad to be thwarted.

Perhaps I'd hoped to find Albert. In any case, the chances of him knowing anything were slim. There was only one other option in the short term, and that was to lean on Harry and Ron for information. They usually attended the Quidditch on a Saturday afternoon, so I headed to Grimmauld Place to await their return.

As it happened, I didn't even need them.

Ginny was making the tea when I thought I might be better at chancing my arm with her.

'Gin, have you, ah, been following the developments with the arrest of Severus Snape?'

'Of course,' she replied, shaking her head. 'Bit unexpected, wasn't it?'

'What does Harry think? Has he said anything?'

Ginny looked at me with a mild frown of interest.

I tried to keep my tone even rather than evasive. 'I just wonder if they have it wrong… You know I was investigating similar matters and I did not get the impression that, ah, Professor Snape was involved.'

'Harry's gutted,' she replied. 'From what he's heard the evidence is fairly watertight.'

'Watertight?' I repeated faintly.

Watertight? I thought anxiously. A few photographs that were circumstantial at best?

'He's not supposed to talk about cases, of course,' continued Ginny conspiratorially. 'Apparently, Snape has been channelling his ill-gotten gains through the Society for Extraordinary Potioneers. The Aurors have seized their accounts and assets.'

I was momentarily dumbfounded.

'And the reason he has not been bailed is because they believe he may have killed that bloke you found.'

'George Cresswell,' I mumbled, mind whirring. 'That's a lot to accuse someone of…'

'Trouble is, he has previous, doesn't he?'

I dropped my gaze from hers then, not wanting her to see what I thought of that remark.

'Mind you, it seems even to me a bit of a leap to think he attended McGonagall's birthday party and then left to go and kill someone.'

My head snapped up and I gaped at her. 'Excuse me?'

'The Mediwizards know that Cresswell died that night.'

I got to my feet abruptly. 'What time exactly?'

Ginny narrowed her eyes at me. 'I don't know…'

'Thanks for the tea, Gin; I must go.'

I dashed out of the door and stood in the street unsure of what it was I needed to do, but knowing full well I had to think of something. Cresswell had been killed on the night of McGonagall's party, where Severus had been a guest and whose presence could be corroborated any number of times by others. But he'd left early, and so had I.

Why hadn't the Auror's asked me to corroborate what had happened after he'd left?

Either they were failing in their duty or… he hadn't told them.

I considered the latter. Why should he do that? I thought about the games he liked to play and wondered if he might not be taking some perverse pleasure in deliberately misleading the Aurors. Whatever it was, I could not allow it. The charges levelled at him were serious enough, but murder? This was too dangerous a game to play and I had the ability to release him of those charges. He would not me to reveal all our cards, I knew, but I was prepared to play them.

Regardless of our cause, and regardless of what he might be playing at, I had to get him out.

Besides, I now knew what our missing piece of the puzzle was.

Theobald Ridley had been far too quick to play his own hand. Far too quick, indeed.

I Apparated to the Ministry and got into the lift to head to the Auror Office. Once there, I stepped into the foyer and headed straight to the reception desk.

'May I help you?' spoke the witch behind the desk, without looking at me.

'I'd like to speak to an Auror dealing with the murder of George Cresswell, please.'

She deigned to glance at me now. 'I'm afraid Auror Greenwood is not available at the moment.'

'I have information that may assist the investigation.'

She paused and considered me a moment. 'It's Hermione Granger, is it not?'

I nodded.

'Take a seat.'

I sat and tried not to fidget. It was all such a mess. I had one chance to convince them, and if that failed I'd have to tell them everything, including that I'd omitted certain information in my witness statement. That was not a prospect to be enthused about.

I waited nearly fifteen minutes before the door opened. In walked a tall, white-haired man with a somewhat deadpan countenance.

'I am Auror Greenwood, Miss Granger; what a pleasure.'

He held out his hand and I took it swiftly.

'Would you follow me?'

I nodded and we stepped into a small office, whereupon he proffered me a seat. 'Now, what can I do for you?'

'I understand you suspect Severus Snape may be implicated in the murder of George Cresswell?'

He shook his head, 'I'm not at liberty to discuss the case—'

'I can vouch for Se— for Mr Snape. I know he could not have killed him. I saw him after he left Hogwarts.'

'How do you know when Cresswell was killed? That detail has not been divulged.'

I winced for Harry; it would be obvious how I knew. I ignored the question. 'It was the night of the seventh, yes?'

'Miss Granger, Mr Snape has already advised he attended Minerva McGonagall's one hundredth birthday party. However, by Mr Snape's own account he left the Great Hall at ten o'clock.'

'What time was Cresswell killed?'

His lip curled slightly. 'How about you tell us what you know?'

I frowned inwardly. 'At half past ten I encountered Mr Snape in the library at Hogwarts. At approximately eleven o'clock we left Hogwarts for my home.'

There was somewhat of a pregnant pause.

'Together...?' I ignored the suggestive rise of his eyebrow.

'Yes; did Severus not tell you this?'

Auror Greenwood took out a pocketbook and a quill. 'You were in the company of Severus Snape from approximately 10:30pm until…?'

'Ah, midnight, when he left.'

I felt my insides squirm. It was not a large window of time, and I could only hope that Cresswell's death had not occurred later, otherwise I would be forced to unravel everything.

The Auror gave nothing away. I watched as he considered first his pocketbook and then me. 'You wish to make a formal statement as to this?'

I nodded. 'Of course.'

He continued to watch me with a look of circumspection. 'What is your relationship with Severus Snape, Miss Granger?'

I met his gaze with not a flinch. 'Is that really relevant?'

His eyes narrowed. 'Mr Snape still faces some serious charges; if I may offer some advice, I'd choose your company a tad more wisely.'

I felt my jaw slacken and I felt a rebuke form almost instantly on my tongue. He screeched his chair back, however, and snapped his pocketbook shut. I decided to say nothing.

'Is that all?' he asked, not sounding at all grateful for my input.

I nodded silently.

And that was it. I had to go home and wonder if I had done enough to get him released from Azkaban for the time being at least. The next morning brought nothing new in the Daily Prophet and with a sinking heart I took myself off to Diagon Alley in search of some new books. It was the only activity I could entertain that would ease my thoughts. Nevertheless, the whole time I considered with mounting dread that I might have to return to the Auror Office and deposit all my notes and evidence. It might all come to an end and we would have achieved nothing. And no doubt, if they could find no other perpetrators, it would be swept under the carpet once more.

I wandered the shops uselessly for a few hours, before returning home empty-handed. I Apparated into my living room and was unfastening my cloak when a low voice spoke into the room.

'Finally.'

I squealed loudly in fright and twisted around. It was a mark of how much things had changed that I greeted his uninvited presence not with umbrage but with a wide smile. A smile that contained no small amount of relief. An unsettling amount of relief, actually.

'Severus!'

His eyes glittered in reply.

I threw my cloak carelessly to the side and stepped over to where he was sat in a chair, legs outstretched.

'They've released you.'

It was all I could I muster in amongst the uncomfortable clenching of my stomach as I surveyed him. I half expected a burst of sarcasm at such an obtuse observation, and yet, there was nothing.

'What happened?' I urged weakly, hoping he could not detect the full extent of my pleasure. He looked the same as he ever did, apart from a dark shadow around his jaw. It had not even been a week and yet I felt I was cataloguing his features as if I'd missed them.

Still he said nothing, but he did rise to his feet and stare down at me for several moments. There was a tinge of humour in his expression and I felt my eyes begin to narrow at it.

'What?' I demanded self-consciously.

He proffered his hand and I took it immediately, somewhat amused by his formality. My amusement flickered slightly when he made no move to shake my hand, but only to hold it. By now, I could feel my heart begin to thud a slow, almost painful rhythm.

Finally, he spoke. 'It was not necessary for you to supply me with an alibi, Granger.' He was almost smiling now — as if he was biting back laughter. 'Gossip like that will spread like wildfire, you know.'

I felt my cheeks darken slightly.

'Potter and Weasley are no doubt goggling over it as we speak.'

I ignored the fact he looked inordinately pleased by that prospect. Instead, I focused my irritation elsewhere. I pulled my hand free and put my hands on my hips. Was it really the thought of my reputation that had sent him to Azkaban?

'Severus, I value my privacy as much as anyone, but do you really think I'd sit by and let you languish in Azkaban to protect it? You should have told them, in the first place.'

I gave him a hard glare. 'If anything, you've made it look more suspicious.' I felt my expression melt into a smile to show I was not really concerned on this score.

I was about to demand once more that he tell me what happened, but I only managed a breath. His hands had come to my neck and he was kissing me. I let out a muffled sound of surprise, but I made no move to push him away. Rather, I stepped into him so that he might hold me and prolong our embrace. And in that fuzzy heated moment I hoped that it might be forever.

It wasn't.

He pulled away after a time. 'I apologise,' he murmured in a low tone.

It wasn't the time to be sorry, I decided, watching him. There would always be time enough later to be sorry.

I reached up to his shoulders, brooking no confusion as to my intention that we should continue. He did not question it. When I considered that moment afterwards, I knew something had changed. Something was different that time — something felt different. We held each other tightly, and the need felt deeper than ever, but there was something so gentle about it that I could feel myself trembling at the prospect of it.

I nearly did it; in a quick moment we took for breath, I nearly burst and told him how much I loved him. It would have been so very… Gryffindor of me to declare it so boldly and so wildly. It would have been a mistake, however, and it might have been luck that caused the words to catch and die breathlessly in my throat, unspoken.

Except, it wasn't really luck.

The incident was merely deferred.

Deferred until such time when the only matter left to resolve was the one that lingered between us.

And possibly the most complex matter of them all.

AN: Thanks for your support : )