"Bloody hell," Severus muttered as he snatched the paper out of Harry's hands. The one thing he had wanted to avoid at all costs in this little venture was publicity. He knew he shouldn't have gone to the Ministry with them. He knew he should have insisted they disguise themselves. "They're used to seeing us at the Ministry—no one will pay any attention," they'd said. Severus snorted. That would be the last time he listened to their assurances.
Nothing pisses Severus off more than attention and publicity.
"It really isn't bad," Harry said hurriedly. "They don't know what we were doing there or why. No one but Kingsley knew why we were there, and he only said it was a bit of an Order reunion. Really, the only reason it's news at all is because Severus hasn't been seen near the Ministry in years, so seeing him at all, and with us beside him, apparently caused a bit of a stir."
Harry, on the other hand, is very used to it.
Severus was too busy scanning the article to respond. He'd be the judge of whether this was "bad" or not. Once he finished, he agreed with Harry's assessment, but only just. Yes, it was a fluff piece about Severus Snape appearing before the Minister flanked by two thirds of the Golden Trio. There was much speculation (Was Severus Snape going to be prosecuted after all? Was Harry Potter making a play for the job of Minister? What of Ron Weasley, who'd offered no comment?) but nothing factual and nothing close to the truth. Just the usual rubbish. The article made no mention of the children he was fostering. He allowed himself a little relief. But this was a close one, too close.
He handed the paper to Hermione so that she could see for herself. She read it very quickly, scoffing and reading out loud a sentence that offended her. "'Whilst the sudden appearance of the former spy and headmaster of Hogwarts drew the attention of most at the Ministry, one cannot also help but be surprised at his companion Hermione, who was last seen storming out of her job at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without explanation. We at the Prophet wonder if the two incidents were at all related and, if so, what the relationship is between the two.' Ugh!" She crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire, causing some ash to fall to the floor. In an instant Kreacher appeared with a small broom, muttering to himself about filthy witches (Harry had forbidden him from uttering his favourite epithet) turning the house filthy. They ignored him.
I love how Hermione is the subject of tabloid fodder.
"Harry's right, that could have been much worse," Severus said, not in a mood to indulge Hermione's indignation. "But that was far too close. I should have trusted my instinct and not gone with you in the first place. Now, if we are ever seen in public together, it will draw attention, which is the last thing they need. We must lay low for awhile. I will visit my graduates alone for the time being; if I go to Azkaban or other high-profile places, the presence of a companion will draw notice. If either of you go anywhere related to this project, you will disguise yourselves. This will blow over but we need to give it time."
Harry and Hermione hesitantly nodded. He had been the spy, he knew how to manipulate others, he knew how to make this go away. They didn't like it (he was basically sentencing them to house arrest) but they trusted his instincts on this. He'd successfully kept his motivations and activities ambiguous for twenty years; he could probably do this in his sleep.
Just as Kreacher disappeared from cleaning away the ash the floo lit up with green flames and Neville Longbottom stumbled in, dragging in more ash and inviting a new reproach from Kreacher. "Morning," he said nervously, clearly not expecting to walk in and see all three of them.
"Neville, what are you doing here, don't you have class? Is something wrong?" Harry asked urgently.
Little sign that Harry, like Hermione, is always just a little bit on edge after everything that's happened. I tried to show it lessening just a bit as time went on (I think they're noticeably less jumpy here than they were in the first four chapters) but never wanted it to completely go away. Seeing someone unexpectedly will always get Harry's guard up.
"It's Saturday," Neville said. "Anyway, I'm here to tell you that Poppy agreed. She'll be here day after tomorrow to have a look at them all. She says she can do without their official medical records for now and just go by whatever you have on hand here and what they tell her. She'd like to meet with you before she sees them to get a sense of the situation."
"Madam Pomfrey, of course!" Hermione said excitedly. "Why didn't we think of that? Oh that's wonderful."
Severus sat stone-faced, not responding. She was coming tomorrow, and he was going to have to see her. He hadn't seen her since…well, not since back then. And he knew exactly what she thought of him back then.
The thought filled his heart with dread more than any Dementor could.
I wish I could take credit for the Poppy-Severus dynamic, but many fine authors have had her be a sort of ally in their stories, so I've kept that going here.
"Severus?" Hermione asked him late that night as they snuggled together in his bed. Who would have thought that Severus Snape, feared by every Hogwarts student in the past two decades, was a cuddler? It wasn't out of possessiveness but a desire to give and receive affection. And he would never, ever admit that he liked it. So she never mentioned it; they would just do it and he would pretend that she made him do it and that was that.
"Hmm?" He sounded sleepy but Hermione knew he was still awake from the way he wrapped his fingers around her curls, pulling them straight and watching them spring back.
"About Azkaban…"
"You want to know what Mr. Gibbon did?" Hermione nodded. "He went to a Muggle tavern, in which he became both inebriated and angry and at some point in the night used his wand on three patrons to transfigure them into sheep."
Heh, sheep.
"He's in Azkaban for that?" Barty Crouch Jr. had turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret for the purpose of publicly humiliating him and it hadn't caused a stir, other than to enrage Professor McGonagall. It sounded like the sort of prank Fred and George Weasley might have pulled. Come to think of it, they might have done to Percy once…
The stories you could write about Fred and George...
Severus nodded. "Illegal human transfiguration plus unauthorised underage magic plus breaking the statute of secrecy plus being the child of a Death Eater."
Add it all up and it does become pretty damning.
"They charged him with all of that? Those are misdemeanors—how can he have been sent to Azkaban for it?"
Severus sighed. "It's the law."
"The added punishment for being the offspring of a Death Eater isn't the law."
"Not officially. But it is allowed for the Wizengamot to mete out the maximum sentence for such misdemeanors, as well as order the time to run consecutively, thereby meeting the threshold for an Azkaban sentence."
This happens a lot in the real world, too.
"I can't believe they did that."
"I believed it, but I didn't want to. I was in the courtroom the entire time. It was not an unbiased tribunal. His appointed counsel was barely on his side."
At least people get trials now. And counsel. Baby steps.
Hermione shook her head. "Makes it all the more depressing that Kingsley won't do anything about it." She propped herself up on an elbow so she could see him eye-to-eye. "Severus, if the Ministry isn't willing to help we have to do something to keep them out of these places. Please. I cannot watch that again."
"Then do not come with me again," Severus said. "It's best that you not go for the foreseeable future, anyway."
This was me, once again, trying to appease the people who wrote me literally every chapter saying they wanted the kids out of the brothel. Every. Single. Chapter. Which I both loved and hated - loved that people really felt for the characters (I fully expected people to care more about Severus and Hermione's relationship than about the kids - I guess you all showed me!) and also hated that I had to keep it in the dark about what was coming. I knew they were getting out, and I knew how, and I hoped it would be worth the wait. I thought it was.
"You know what I mean," she retorted. "What good are we all doing here if this is what awaits them? I may be a sucker for hopeless causes but I want to do something,anything, for them. I know can't bring them here without risking everything, and I know there's not much else we can do, and I know that they will continue to make the choices they make, but please, just think about it?"
Severus sighed and looked away. "It's not a matter of consideration," he whispered. "I can't do anything for them. I can't very well take a prisoner out of Azkaban, can I? Xavier Yaxley cannot be here if he is still addicted to narcotics; I cannot have that around them, and I am not equipped to help him detoxify himself. The ones in the…that place…you know why I can't bring them here. I have tried and tried and tried to think of ways to get them out of there, tried and tried to implement them, and each time it has failed. I'll not see them punished for my failures anymore."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that they, not I, pay the price when hidden cameras capturing them with Ministry officials in compromising positions are discovered before I can retrieve them. It means that they, not I, pay the price when they are discovered with Portkeys that do not work within the walls of that horrible place. It means that they, not I, pay the price when I attempt to transfigure them into small animals to allow them to escape. They, not I, pay the price for my failures. The punishment is horrific, and no, I will not tell you what it is. No more."
Spelling out why he can't. This was added fairly late in editing, in an effort to get people to PLEASE have patience about what was going to happen. I would never have left the kids in there. No one cares about them more than I do, and no one has thought about them more than I have.
Hermione was lost for words.
"Short of being able to Apparate in and out of that building, which I cannot do, and yes, I have attempted it, there is no way of getting them out of there without drawing the attention of the guards downstairs, who administer the punishments to them. I…I feel so fucking hopeless about the whole thing, Hermione," he said, his voice cracking, his native accent breaking through the way it always did when his defences broke down.
How are you going to get them out of this one?
"I…I had no idea."
"I know," he said. He turned to her, eyes pleading. "I am well aware of how I have failed them, Hermione. It will haunt me for the rest of my life. All I can do is try not to repeat my failures and keep the youngest ones from slipping through my fingers. Please, please, just trust me on this and do not ask it of me again."
She gave him a sad look and a minute nod. She lay down and curled up against him again, breathing in his scent as she felt his arms around her.
"Alright," she said. "I won't."
Now she'll stop harping on him.
Leopold was looking forward to the Christmas holidays. He hadn't seen Ermengarde since the day he left for Hogwarts, though they owled multiple times per week. Miss Granger sent him an owl weekly, and Mr. Snape once per month. He was looking forward to seeing Mr. Snape most of all. They had business to discuss.
Leopold had known, deep down, even before he arrived there himself, that Brigita was not at Hogwarts anymore, and hadn't been for at least two years. That's when her owls had stopped. She clearly wasn't there anymore, and to keep his cover he couldn't ask. He had wanted to ask Mr. Snape about it, but knew better than to do so. Had he wanted to warn him, he would have. He might be in Gryffindor, though Leopold still wasn't sure if he was a Gryffindor, but he had been raised by the best of Slytherins. He knew that there was merit in waiting until the perfect time to pose a question. And speaking to Mr. Snape in person, over Christmas, was the time to do so.
I don't know if I mentioned this before but Brigita is named for a character in "The Sound of Music." (Yes, I like musicals.)
Severus said that the children had never properly celebrated Christmas before. He hadn't had the resources to do it and the Ministry could never spare the money. Hermione, for her part, decided that situation needed to be rectified.
Luckily, she had an in with the owners of the most popular shop in Diagon.
I love WWW. I thought this was a better career choice for Ron than permanent sidekick - I mean Auror. He is so not cut out to be an Auror. He's not smart enough or skilled enough or committed enough. He'd be great as George's business partner, though, and that's where he should have stayed.
George and Ron were always very accommodating in staying at the shop after closing and casting a freezing charm on all their merchandise so that it would not make any sudden noises. They had learned this the hard way after she had cast a strong Reducto on an errant bouncing ferret (thankfully, not a live ferret) that had startled her.
I love that the Weasleys invented, produced, and marketed Bouncing Ferrets. In a different world, the Malfoys would have sued for royalties.
She gave the Weasley brothers a big hug and sat down for a chat, gladly accepting a cup of tea from George. After catching up a bit (Hermione listening good-naturedly to George's barbs about Severus, including whether he really did sleep hanging upside-down from the ceiling and, if so, whether it was possible to have sex in that position I can totally imagine George asking about that right off the bat —really, though, she was happy that all the Weasleys seemed to be very accepting of her relationship) she got down to business.
"How would you like to make a charitable donation to some very needy children this Christmas?" she asked them. George, ever the businessman, was very interested. Donations were always good for business.
"Have Ron or Harry let you in on what we've been working on?"
George nodded. "Briefly, not the details, but we know you're working with some war orphans who have the unfortunate condition of being descended from Death Eaters."
Grateful that he considered them orphans first and Death Eater children second, she pressed her luck. "As you can guess, they haven't exactly had many happy Christmases in their lives, least of all when they became wards of the Ministry. This Christmas, I'm in a position to change that, and I was hoping you might be willing to donate some Weasley products to them or, if not, be willing to sell the products to me at a discount."
George waved his hand. "Relax, Granger. It's a contribution to something Harry is working on. It's been ten years, but I haven't forgotten that it was his start-up capital that got this place going. You could be building a memorial to You-Know-Who and I'd donate whatever you asked of me if you said it was a project important to Harry. Well, maybe not that, but pretty much anything else, including this. So of course, you have us on board. What did you have in mind?"
Harry's part of the family now, and Weasleys help each other, no matter what.
After some discussion, Hermione left the shop laden with parcels to distribute. She took care to select things, with their help, that would be safe, amusing not too loud, not to dangerous, not about to pop out and scare them. Something a bit more…subdued. Ron and George knew their business and selected the exact products that would work.
"You two are the best," she beamed.
George again dismissed her sentiment with a wave of his hand. "Like I said, I'm on board all the way, even if I can't say I'm terribly sympathetic to the population you're serving." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, it's just, after all that happened…"
The Weasleys will never get there, not after losing Fred.
"I understand," Hermione said. She had long since accepted that the Weasleys had lost too much in the last two wars to be enthused about what she was doing, but loved that they were decent enough wizards to not judge or condemn her for it. The Weasleys were truly an incomparable family.
"Will we be seeing you at the Burrow this Christmas?" Ron asked, feigning nonchalance.
Christmases at the Burrow had not been the same since losing Fred. Molly, in her depression, was unable or unwilling to cook as much as she always had, her preoccupation with how much everyone was eating had disappeared, and the general mood was maudlin.
Poor Weasleys.
Hermione shook her head. "Thank you, no, I'm going to spend it at Grimmauld Place. I'm sure if I leave Severus to handle Christmas alone the tree will be decked out in black or something." She gave a smile. "But you will send everyone my best, yes?"
"Mum would love to see you," Ron said. "She misses you."
"I miss her too," Hermione said. Her relationship with Molly had been a bit strained after she and Ron ended their relationship, not to a detrimental degree, but not quite what it always had been. She knew Molly still worried about everyone too much and that it would reassure her to see Hermione at some point. "I'll come by sometime soon, I promise."
Given her reaction to the Witch Weekly gossip, I thought Molly would never quite forgive Hermione. Plus the woman's been in a profound depression for seven years (I think this is around the one-year mark in the story, give or take).
Ron and George seemed satisfied at this, and so she made her good-byes, shrunk the parcels and put them in her pocket, and Disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.
Severus couldn't take his eyes off Hermione after she arrived, his expression inscrutable. Luna merely gave her a dreamy smile and said, "I like it."
"What?"
Severus smirked and rolled his eyes. "Did either of the Weasley brothers offer you anything to eat or drink?"
"Well, yes, George gave me a cup of…oh no." She waved her wand and cast a small mirror on one of the walls and found that her hair was rapidly changing from purple to pink to red to orange to yellow…and just continued to cycle through all the colours of the rainbow. Oh, those two! She tried a Finite Incantatum but there was no change. She whipped around and looked at Severus, who stood behind her to fully appraise her new look. "Can you do anything about this?"
Ha.
He chuckled and shook his head. "If you ingested it, it's a colour change potion, and colour change potions have no antidote, they must be metabolised and flushed out of the system." He gazed at her hair thoughtfully. "Colour change potions are not easy to brew, least of all those that change colours after ingestion. In fact, it requires a combination of both charms and potions in a complex process that few people are able to master. I must say, this is quite advanced work; only a few of my NEWT students ever truly grasped it. I suppose I managed to teach the Weasleys a thing or two after all."
Hermione made a sound of exasperation. "Stop being impressed with them. How long until this is gone?"
Haha, Severus is impressed with George Weasley.
Severus carefully studied (and appreciated?) her new hair. "Tomorrow morning you should be back to a lovely mousy brown."
Hermione glared. "Mousy?"
"Yes, mousy, but don't worry," he whispered in her ear, "I confess I have a particular weakness for women with mousy brown hair." He stepped back. "I take it you got what you were looking for?" She nodded. "Then it was worth it."
That earned him a glare severe enough to match one of his own.
This wound up being a much bigger scene than I had planned. It's one of those parts of the story that got away from me while writing. I'm happy it did.
Severus looked down at his hands and found that the parchment he'd been holding had been shredded into hundreds of tiny pieces. Dropping them on the table, he cast a quick Reparo and returned it to its rightful place on top of the pile of medical records.
It wasn't often that Severus Snape was nervous. He was master enough of his emotions that he never was nervous; he was either prepared or unprepared (usually the former, rarely the latter) but never nervous. Now…blame it on Hermione or the children he'd been fostering or on Harry bloody Potter wanting his friendship or on Luna Lovegood and her frighteningly accurate perceptions, but now Severus felt nervous.
He and Poppy had parted on less than amicable terms. All through the last year of the war she had seen him as a cold-hearted murdering Death Eater who was lording over the school and terrorising helpless children, which is exactly what Severus had intended for her to see. When he lay dying in the Boat House someone (probably Hermione, though she'd yet to admit to it) had alerted Poppy and she'd come down to the Boat House after the battle to find him there, lying in a pool of his own blood, clinging ever so tenuously to life.
To all appearances he'd been unconscious, but the truth was he was fully aware of his surroundings at all times. He'd heard Poppy come in, whispering an oath under her breath. He felt her kneel down beside him, touching a warm yet hesitant hand to the other side of his neck, the side that did not bear puncture wounds, to check for a pulse. When she felt one, she had let out a sigh.
"Severus Snape," she whispered under her breath. "I just…I don't know what to believe anymore." She'd dressed his wound, levitated him onto a stretcher she must have conjured, and taken him up to the Great Hall with the other injured who were waiting for transport to St. Mungo's. The walk up to the castle was long and largely silent. Just before entering the hall, he had heard Poppy whisper to herself again. "Useless. Useless."
John Wilkes Booth's last words. Actors.
She'd been talking about trying to save him, he just knew it. Useless to bring him back, after all he had done. Useless to take her time to go down there to just return a comatose body that was unlikely to last through the night. Useless to save a man who could likely only look forward to either life in a hospital bed or the Dementor's Kiss. Useless to pity a man who had ensured he had no friends left to mourn him. Useless to save a man so close to death. Useless to spend another second thinking about him.
Useless. Useless.
I don't know what possessed me to use those words for this (beside the fact that I do think it's a great line) but I went with it. It fit somehow.
The floo flared green and Severus stopped the pacing he hadn't realised he'd been doing. Severus is a little jumpy, no? With a whoosh in came Longbottom and, holding his hand as he helped her through the floo, Poppy Pomfrey.
Severus used all of his best Occlumency and spy training to render his face expressionless. She would not have the satisfaction of seeing him panic. Nobody saw him panic; not even Hermione. Push the feelings away, place them in a box, lock the box away, bury it under the ground. Peace.
That's how you Occlumency, isn't it?
Severus did not want to be the first to speak, but then again if he waited, he might look weak. No, not speaking would unnerve her; had unnerved countless students over the years. Yes, he would just stand there, arms crossed, his best glare on his face, and wait there for awhile. He tried to push aside the niggling voice in his head reminding him that she was here to do him a favour. It wouldn't do to listen to it today.
Poppy met his glare, standing there with him eye-to-eye. Few people entered into staring contests with Severus Snape. She was brave to try.
Mature, both of you.
Finally Longbottom spoke up. "Do I, er, need to provide introductions?"
Severus and Poppy both turned to glare at Longbottom. With a dumb smile he muttered something about saying hello to Lovegood and ran up the stairs.
Oh, Neville, never stop being awkward.
Poppy rolled her eyes. "I still find it hard to think of him as a colleague," she mused, her eyes following Longbottom's form up the stairs. "Somehow he's always the chubby little boy who came into my infirmary covered in stinksap. It's always hard when a former charge comes to Hogwarts to teach. You always want to see him as the child he was, not the man he has become. He's always in there, somewhere, hidden in the man's face."
She turned to Severus, meeting his eyes, but this time with a soft expression. "Sometimes, Severus, even in that last year, all I could see was the skinny little boy who turned up more times in my hospital wing than Harry Potter, the little boy who needed not medicine but affection. The multitude of ills it would have cured…the pain it would have healed…"
Tears welled in Poppy's eyes and Severus had to use all of his self-control to keep his expression, well, non-expressive.
"When Harry Potter and Tom Riddle dueled in the Great Hall, Harry said some things about you that I had long suspected but had never confirmed. And it hit me like a Hippogriff charging into me—what you had done and why you had done it. Things clicked, they seem so obvious now. If you had truly been on their side, why keep all the teachers on staff? Why not sack us or kill us and bring in Death Eaters to teach? Why block off all the secret passages out of the school? I went up to see Albus's portrait; he hid in your office all year and I always thought it curious that he should not wander the castle from portrait to portrait to keep an eye on things. I wondered if you had somehow cursed or even destroyed the portrait. But after…it all ended…I went up there and spoke to him for the first time in a year. He told me everything, Severus. Everything.
"I walked downstairs as if I were in a daze. There were injured people all around me, people needing care, and all I could think about was what I had just learned. Then Miss Granger—"
I knew it, Severus thought.
"—came up to me and said that your body was down in the Boat House and wondered if she should retrieve it, and I decided I would go. I am no stranger to death or blood. I was going to clean your corpse and bring it up to the Great Hall—a hero's homecoming. The Headmaster who died defending his school would deserve nothing less. You looked so young lying there. You looked like you used to back then. I was reminded of the little boy who was brought in with bruises on his face and a werewolf scratch on his stomach. The little boy who needed comfort the most yet shied away from it at every opportunity.
"And you were alive, Severus, you were alive! Barely but still with us. It was…so much to take in. Once I got you cleaned up and brought you up to the Great Hall I thought of all the potential you had, and how it had been stripped away by this madman. I thought of how your loyalty to another man cost you everything you had left. I realised that even if you were ever to come back, it was useless, because what did you have to come back for? What did this world have left for you? Would anyone else see you through new eyes, or would I be alone?"
I don't see Poppy being that much older than Severus. Maybe 10-15 years at the most, probably closer to 10.
Severus swallowed an especially large lump in his throat.
"Severus…" Poppy walked up to him slowly. "I don't know what more to say to you."
He unclenched his jaw and unfolded his arms and just stood there, limp. He had expected Poppy to say many things to him, but nothing like this. She sounded like she was almost…apologising to him.
"There is nothing to say," he muttered. "Nothing more to say."
The next thing he knew, the mediwitch had thrown her arms around him in a fierce embrace. He was startled and not sure how to respond.
Hugs are still a very foreign concept to him.
"I'm glad you came back, Severus," she whispered. "If anyone deserves a second chance at life and happiness, it is you. You live for you now."
"I don't," he whispered, bringing his arms around her tentatively. "Never for myself."
"For them?" she asked.
He nodded. "For them."
She let him go and stood back a bit, her hands braced on his biceps, taking him in. "You should have come to me sooner, Severus. You remember what Albus always used to say: 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' I know many things were said and done, but you always will be a member of the Hogwarts family, doubly as staff and as student, and as one of the most courageous headmasters the school has ever seen. I am only sorry that we did not appreciate it at the time."
Severus does need to reintegrate with the Hogwarts clan.
"You weren't meant to," Severus muttered.
"Yes, and you can believe I had words with Albus's portrait about that," Poppy said.
And the other Heads forcibly kept him in his frame so that he had to listen to every word, occasionally throwing in their own additions.
"I confess that I did not expect to hear any of this," Severus said. It was easy to talk to Poppy. It always had been. He had not realised until just now how much he had missed it.
I don't know if I'd call them quite friends, but they certainly hadn't been enemies.
"Severus…the queue of wizards and witches in this world who want to both thank you and apologise to you would span all of Britain. If you are not used to it by now, get used to it."
He rolled his eyes. "Bloody Potter. Turned me into a martyr. False hero worship all around. I did what was necessary, no more and no less."
Yet another reason why he hates that he gave Harry his memories.
"Nothing false, only heroic," Poppy said firmly. "Any person can do what needs to be done. A true hero does that which must be done and that which no one else will do and does it when no one else is looking."
If Severus was the kind to hug, he would hug her. But he wasn't, so he didn't. He only nodded at her, and Poppy nodded back, patting him on the cheek as if he was eleven years old and just needed some chocolate to cure him of a minor hex.
"Now, I believe you have some patients for me to look at? Mr. Longbo—Professor Longbottom filled me in on what you have been doing here."
Severus nodded. "I know I don't have to ask you to stay discreet about it." Poppy nodded. "I have to warn you, some of what you are about to hear is grim…" He led her to the kitchen and shut the door.
Unbeknownst to Severus and Poppy, Neville had warned everyone upstairs that he was afraid the two might duel. Hermione and Luna had been aware of just how tense Severus was in anticipation of this visit, and Luna and Neville had seen Poppy's rage at Severus during his year as Headmaster. Poppy might give him a piece of her mind and dredge up old and dangerous memories. Severus might become acerbic and defend himself. They both might say terrible things that they could never come back from. They might draw their wands.
They thought it couldn't hurt to keep half an eye on what was going on downstairs. In the interest of keeping the peace, of course. For the children's sake.
They really, really wanted to see a duel.
So Neville, Hermione, Harry, and Luna (who had left the children drawing upstairs) all tiptoed down to the top of the stairs and, behind a Notice-Me-Not charm, watched the entire exchange. By the end, Luna and Hermione were clinging to each other and Harry and Neville were complaining that Kreacher wasn't dusting enough because they now had something in their eyes.
Riiiight, dust.
"Boys," Hermione muttered under her breath, smiling.
I thought this little bit was cute.
Poppy scribbled down the last of her notes and, with a heavy sigh and tears in her eyes, looked up at Severus. "Merlin, Severus…" she said. "I've seen a lot of troubled cases in my time at Hogwarts, but this…"
He nodded. "What's worse is that this is an improvement from when I found them, and in the last six months, in this environment, they've been improving as well. But…"
"But they're not all the way there yet," Poppy said grimly. "Severus, you mustn't blame yourself. You are doing all you can."
He sighed. "It's not enough, though, is it?"
"You're trying to undo years and years of neglect, abuse, and trauma," she said. "And until very recently you were attempting to do so single-handedly. The fact that these children can even be in the same room as another person, can walk and talk and eat and even laugh sometimes, is remarkable. Not all of them will improve completely. Some will move past it and have normal lives; others never will. I know that you demand nothing less than perfection, from both others and yourself, but in this case you will have to be satisfied with, 'I did the best I could.'"
For a perfectionist, this is a really, really hard concept to grasp.
He shook his head. Anything less than perfection was failure, and he was beginning to tire of failure with regard to them.
"I suppose I had best go and examine them all, then?" Poppy asked, rising to her feet. Severus nodded. He and Lovegood and Hermione had transfigured Hermione's old room on the first floor as an examination room. He led Poppy up the stairs and let her set up whilst he went to retrieve the first child on the list. Ambrose Avery. Had problems with seizures ever since one of Glastonbury's "volunteers" had slammed him hard against a wall four years earlier. His magic was intermittent and difficult to control, though as of late he had managed to prevent any mishaps. It was a start.
He made his way to the attic and found all fourteen children. Some were drawing with Lovegood and Longbottom, whilst others were listening to Potter spin some story of his heroism. Bloody typical. And a few others were sitting in a quiet corner with Hermione, reading.
No one paid attention to him at the moment, so he allowed himself to lean against the doorframe and take in the scene, watching that magnificent creature read aloud in soft, calm tones.
Poppy was right; he was satisfied with nothing less than perfection.
Severus, you romantic fool.
"I'll walk you out," Hermione offered after Poppy had seen and examined all the children and given Severus a list of minor treatments and potions he would need to administer. Poppy smiled and walked down the stairs.
"It's so good of you to come here," Hermione said earnestly. "They've needed a Healer and no one else will do it and Severus is terrible at thanking people so I wanted to say…well, thank you for everything."
"Thanks aren't needed, I am happy to do it and am only sorry that Severus did not ask sooner," Poppy replied. "My only regret is that the others never came to see me whilst at Hogwarts; I could have helped. And while anyone who has met Severus knows that he is terrible at thanking people or accepting help, I can see that you know him in a much more, say, intimate way?"
Hermione blushed. Neville and his big mouth.
"Oh don't be embarrassed, dear, it was written all over your faces. I am happy for you both. You both deserve happiness and stability after all you have been through, and I am happy that you seem to have found it with each other."
"Thank you," Hermione said, smiling now, cheeks still a bit red. "I am, and I'm pretty sure he is too."
"He is, my dear, he is."
"I couldn't help but notice your interaction," Hermione said hesitantly, "and it seems that Severus quite values your opinion, doesn't he?"
"I suppose you could put it that way," Poppy said. "I was one of the few he let come near him whenever he was injured during the war. Considering I wasn't even a member of the Order, that was a great deal of trust."
"I wonder…well, you must remember many of the orphans of Death Eaters who were formerly in Severus's care and went to Hogwarts?"
"And left, all of them, very early on. Harassed and bullied and often harmed; I only saw them when they were so injured that others brought them in. A very bad business."
"Many of them are now on the streets, or in Azkaban, or in brothels." Poppy tsked at this. "I have encouraged Severus to bring them here, some of them at least, to help get their lives straightened out. He says that the risk of the Ministry finding out would be too high since they are technically their charges, and that the ones in the brothels are impossible to sneak out of there without them getting hurt. It's not that I don't believe him; I do believe that he is telling me the truth about everything he's done so far and everything he's tried to do. He claims to have run out of options, but I just don't think that it's true—how can that be? There must be another way of helping them, one we haven't thought of. There's always another option, we just haven't found it yet. I don't suppose that you understand why, or that you could speak to him?"
Hermione promised not to push Severus, but she hasn't stopped thinking about how to solve things.
Poppy gave Hermione a wry smile. "You always were Hogwarts' patron saint of lost causes, weren't you?"
"But do you think you could change his mind?"
Poppy shook her head. "I sympathise with your dilemma, Miss Granger, but one thing we both know about Severus is that if he does not want to do something, he will not do it, no matter what it is or who is asking it of him. I think only Albus was ever able to do it, and even then he did so by manipulating the poor man's emotions, which I know you will never stoop to."
Bad Dumbledore.
"I guess I just… I don't understand it. Giving up like that. Writing the whole thing off as a lost cause. He goes out and sees them as frequently as he is able, but there are many of them and only one of him and it just makes so little sense to me."
"Don't attempt to understand it, try to understand him. Just be patient. If I know him, he will come around to it eventually."
"What makes you say that?"
Poppy grabbed a handful of floo powder and smiled at her former charge. "Because, Miss Granger, it is the right thing to do."
Hermione looked at her quizzically as she stepped into the fireplace. Poppy smiled and spoke one more time before disappearing in a flash of green flame.
"Severus Snape can always be counted on to do the right thing… after he has exhausted every other alternative."
Freaking love this line as applied to Severus. It's derived from a famous quote attributed to Winston Churchill about Americans. I also think it's devastatingly accurate about Our Hero.