Disclaimer: Not mine

Hermione's Son

Chapter 9

Only two days after Hugh left for Hogwarts Hermione was already regretting her decision to let him go. She wished she had convinced him that going to Hogwarts was a waste of time and that she could home school him. Finding the silence of the house unnerving, she turned on his CD player before she went downstairs each morning just to add background noise. After two weeks, she was grabbing crackers and opening tins of soup at meal times, no longer fixing balanced meals or planning trips to the grocery to keep the pantry stocked. Her only release from the monotonous days was working on her book or scrubbing the still clean floors.

After three weeks, she found a row of shops within walking distance and bought a pair of trainers. Once again, she ran every morning, feeling the familiar sense of despair descending on her. Having learned long ago to keep busy, not let the darkness overpower her, she forced herself to be physically as well as mentally exhausted in hopes of keeping the wolves at bay.

She discovered a trail that followed a river not far from the house, which soon became her favourite place to run. Despite the difference in surroundings, factories where open spaces had been, it reminded her of the Huron River she had run beside in the States. The flowing water, throwing back prisms of sun light calmed her as the rhythm of her feet and the burning muscles from her strides let her forget her past.

Since having a conversation with Hugh, about what he would experience at Hogwarts, it was harder not let her mind wander to images of Hogwarts. She had sent Raven off to Diagon for a copy of Hogwarts, A History, chagrined that she had not retained a single copy and ordered a subscription from the Daily Prophet. She let Hugh read the book before she spoke to him and was relieved that his questions centred more on Quidditch and outside activities than the time she had spent there. What she added to his otherwise limited knowledge was a simplified story of the Order of the Phoenix and its part in the war. She minimized her part and skimmed over her friendship with Harry and, as she put it, another student.

Warning him that he would hear rumours and that he should ask her or take his concerns to Professor Snape she had waved him off. As a first-year, she knew he would hear a little of what had gone before. However, she hoped the younger students were still as sheltered as she had been. Rather, she had thought with a grimace, as sheltered as she would have been if she had not met Potter.

By the fourth week, she was already looking forward to the holidays and began lists of what she needed to do. Never having planned on holiday meals, shopping and decorating he house she was surprised as the list grew longer and longer. Pushing the list away, she glanced around the sitting room and wondered how it could ever look festive. It was times like this, when her memories flooded back on her. Memories of her Mum and Dad the Christmases they had shared. Trudging up the stairs in her effort to keep busy and forget, she began scrubbing the bath and sorting the cupboards.

Hermione saw a blur pass the window, then heard the familiar tapping of an owl on the kitchen window and all but broke her neck running down the stairs. Jumping over the last four steps in her hurry to get to it, she landed hard, her feet sliding out from under her, landing flat on her back as a rush of air exploding out of her lungs.

"Fuck," she wheezed, grabbing the banister and pulling herself up she limped into the kitchen. "Hold on! Christ, you can see I'm coming."

Yanking up the sash, she ripped the parchment from the owl and angrily pushed it away. "Forget it," she muttered. "You want to eat? Catch something. Trust me…there are a lot of mice around here."

Opening the envelope she was distracted the tap, tap, tap that came again. "Sorry, go away until I get a cage or…just go away…go back." She slammed the window down and hobbled to the table, her chest hurting worse that it had in recent years. Laying the letter on the table, she smoothed it out to read.

Hi Sis,

Professor Snape said the owls name is Raven. That's a stupid name for a owl but I didn't say nothing. I remembered what you said abut manners, that and he takes points .

Guess what? I got in Slytherin. It's neat and the rooms don't have windows or nothing. I' m supossed to write six inches home that's why I am writing so big. It is hard with no lines and some old lady said not to waste parchment cause it costs so much and some animal died for it but I don't think its that kind of parchment. If it is, I want real paper.

Hermione put her hand over the left side of her chest as the pain from her back radiated around her side and began to throb. Smiling at Hugh's attempt to write his first letter home without his spell checker she made a mental note to send him a personal dictionary. Guessing that the old lady was Minerva, she couldn't help smiling.

Professor Snape acts mean here and told me that when I am in school I'm not Granger's spoiled little brother. I don't know what he means but he said if my name gets in the paper he'll take points even if they are from his own house.

We got a feather but mine didn't move too good. I think it was cuz I got a bad feather. If you get a letter from the old lady tell her I was just in the owl tower to get a new one.

Hugh.

Hermione grinned as she carefully folded the letter and slid it into her pocket wondering what he was doing in the owlery that he wanted to hide. She put on a pot of tea and pushed two pieces of bread into the toaster. Waiting for the water to heat, she made her way back up stairs and changed from her running clothes to a pair of jeans and a tee, removing her bra in hopes of relieving the pressure. Her damned chest hurt. It had been years since it had bothered her and the sudden reminder or how it had hurt before sickened her. This was more than a sudden slam of a seat belt that had bothered her for a while just that summer. This time she felt the pain building. Throwing the toast into the sink, she sat holding her cup in both hands wondering where the bloody hell she had put the scotch.

The next morning the owl was back. Pecking and tilting its head as it watched her through the window with large unblinking eyes. It continued until she threw a flannel at the glass, hoping it would scare the bird away for good. On the third morning, she tried to lift the sash and chase it off but was unable to raise her left arm high enough to be of any use and could only swat at the glass as it continued to hoot at her.

She decided to try a Muggle remedy, thinking it may help. Since the pain in her back was from a fall and not a magical curse, she hoped it was different this time and would respond. The short excursion to the grocery took most of her strength and she knew she had lost the battle to act normally when she opened the aspirin bottle and downed a handful in the shop's aisle.

"Headache," she said as she paid, still chewing the small bitter pills, earning a look of disgust from the clerk.

By the time she made it back home, clutching the small bottle of aspirin, beads of sweat were sprinkled across her forehead and she was finding it difficult to breath.

"Those are useless as you well know," Snape said from his position where he stood leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen as she dumped another handful of the small pills into the palm of her hand.

"I take back everything I said about this being your house. You need to knock." She crammed the pills in her mouth and leaned down to drink directly from the spigot.

"What did you do?"

"I fell. I hit my back but it's my chest. It hurts like bloody hell."

He crossed the room and lifted the back of her tee seeing bruises across her shoulder blades and peaking out from below her waistband. "Raven came back again. I thought I should check on the reason. Now, undo your trousers."

"I will do nothing of the…"

"I cannot heal what I cannot see. Now do it." He smirked as she used her right hand to lower the zipper and when he heard the sound of a snap opening, he tugged her jeans down enough to inspect her lower back and hips. Using his wand and muttering an incantation, he healed the lower regions, which had an ugly dark patch on each hip and running up from the small of her back. He pulled her jeans up and started working on her shoulder blades noting the lack of a bra, knowing that by her quick acquiescence to his demands the pain must be greater than he had thought.

"I am guessing that your discomfort results from back spasms that are tensing your muscles and spreading. You are still going to be sore for a few days."

"It must be. I fell flat," she said with a deep sigh at the absence of most of the pain. "That feels better…thanks."

"Now sit and let me see the front."

"No," she turned and shook her head. "It is quite alright. What brought you here?"

"I will tell you after we finish this."

"It is finished. If it gets worse I will see a healer."

"Certainly you do not expect me to believe that. Eating aspirin for lunch is much more your style. I may not be a healer; however, I assure you that I am better at it than you are at lying." He nodded to her chest and saw her hand fisting the material over her left side. "Miss….Hermione, I know what happened and I have seen your scar."

"Not like this," she said, swallowing hard. "Not after what they did at St. Mungo's."

"I would assume they removed tissue to …"

"Yes," she said evenly and turned back to the sink. "I was going to make a pot of tea."

"Tea? Does it go well with the alcohol I smell on you?"

"Shut up, Snape. It helps…and yes…very well indeed. Whiskey makes a great tonic if you add a little honey and lemon as well."

"For the short term. Now, I will ask you again to sit or I will bind you."

Hermione turned back to face him, her eyes searching his face as her own welled with tears. "It's …ugly."

"So are my scars yet I see them every day." He gently took the hem of the shirt waiting until she nodded and turned her head away before he exposed only the left side of her chest. His eyes snapped to her face then back down as he tried to cover his surprise.

"I told you," she said softly, her voice choking, keeping her head turned away from his.

"I expected it to be worse the way you carried on. My first years do better," he muttered, trying to cover up his shock that they had completely removed her left breast. Quickly healing the swollen tissue he heard her sigh as the pain disappeared and pulled her shirt down, stepping back as he did.

"Thanks," she said, turning back to the teapot, unable to meet his eyes.

"I don't want you drinking for a couple of days. It dilates the blood vessels and…"

"Fine. Can we not talk about it?"

"I have a potion that was developed after your surgery. It will perm…"

"Fine. Send it. Just shut up for now. I don't want to discuss this with you."

"Hermione, please, if you had sought medical treatment at once this would not have happened. You must accept what …"

"I know. I spent three years in therapy. Remember? I was made painfully ware that I was making this into more than I should. The healer kept telling me that it didn't make me less of a woman. That I should be glad to be alive. What he forgot to say is that…never mind. Just…I think it's better now so I'll be able to keep after Raven."

"What he forgot to say was what?" Snape asked evenly, sitting down at the table.

"That men don't like mutilated women." She slid two cups on the table. "No milk. I couldn't carry it and the delivery won't be here for a couple of hours yet."

"You are obviously talking about ignorant boys. No man would…"

"You want a list of names? Now, what about the tea?"

"Black is fine," he said, not knowing how to respond to her statement and feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "As I explained, I came to inquire about Raven."

"Yes, well…she…it is a she? Yes? She came at the wrong time."

"There is a coup in the yard, and there used to be a cage in the attic. Unless your recent cleaning rampage has taken you that far it should still be there. She will need to be housed inside when the weather changes."

"Oh, I got the letter from Hugh. I hear you are now forcing them to write home." She grinned thinly, darting her eyes to his, only to look away again. "I haven't written back yet...things came up. I'll send one off in the morning."

"You also need to keep your wand close. If an emergency such as this comes up again you need to contact someone in our world."

"Can't let it go can you?" She quipped, finally able t look at him over the rim of her cup. "I know I have to get used to it again for the sake of Hugh, and yes I know in case of an emergency it would be useful. However, I have survived until now without the need of one."

"When was the last time you apparated, or used your magic?"

"Knowingly? The day I left Hogwarts." She leaned back and looked at him a long time as silence spun between them. "You remind me of my healer. He asked me questions and sat, waiting for me to talk. I hate to tell you this, but I can out wait the best."

"Unknowingly?"

"They say I threw things at the nurses in the hospital."

"Inborn magic does that. If you perceive a threat, even in a near comatose state, your natural magic takes over to protect you."

"Now that we have discussed my medical treatment can we move on?"

"Yes, we were discussing Raven."

"We finished that." She stood up and put her cup in the sink. "Listen, I need to sleep. I haven't been able to do more than nod off since I fell. I think I can now. I would love to sit and talk…but I'm dead on my feet and in case you haven't noticed I get rather bitchy when I'm tired."

"I quite agree," Snape stood and started to the door.

"Are you saying I look that bad or that I'm acting like a bitch?" she asked with a thin smile.

"Miss Granger, even the densest man would know not to answer that."

"Thanks." She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Don't act so surprised. I hug…I even kiss on occasion. Thanks for putting up with me, Severus, not many would. Let me sleep then we can talk. Right now, I'm just going to say something I shouldn't. "

He watched her climb the stairs, understanding her behaviour since he had arrived was from lack of sleep and pain, still not trusting that was all it was. He waited until for a few minutes to make sure she was in bed before opening the cupboard under the sink and pulling out the bin. Finding a broken wand and empty whiskey bottles, he confirmed his suspicions. Returning the container under the sink, he went to the yard to ready the coup for Raven.

The next morning, Hermione was in the kitchen having just finished a letter to Hugh when the sound of footfalls came down the stairs. Grabbing a knife, her eyes large with fear, she turned to the sitting room in time to see Snape walk into the kitchen.

"You scared the bloody hell out of me," she breathed, throwing the knife on the counter and finishing tying the missive around Raven's leg. "I didn't know you were here. You spent the night?"

"I did not mean to startle you. I am free from weekend duty and wanted to make sure the healing did not need to be repeated."

"No, its fine, like you said I'm just a little sore. I don't believe I slept the afternoon and the night away. I can't remember the last time I did that. Hungry? I was just going to fix something."

"I thought we could stop at the Cauldron."

Hermione stopped and studied his face, wondering what he was doing. "I can cook you know."

"I found your wand along with three empty bottles. I assumed you needed a new one."

"A bottle or a wand?" She said as she began cracking eggs. "The pain was so bad I tried to drink it away. I haven't done that for ages…not since…since my mum died I guess. It's not a habit. I want you to know that. Not anymore. And I don't like your spying on me."

"And the wand?"

"You're right. I should replace it. I should be able to send Raven and order it. After all, I know the wood, core and length."

"Why did you snap it?"

"I didn't. I know what it sounds like…but truly…I fell on it. I had it in my waistband. And no, I'm not lying. I was working up my nerve to use it."

"If you had the habit of carrying it I may believe…" He stopped and merely nodded, remembering the bruises.

"I want to know how Hugh is doing. Is he making friends?"

"He…I imagine so."

"You don't know?" She slid his plate in front of him and sat at the table with her own. "Does he sit with the same people at meals or always someone different?"

Seeing his blank expression, she rolled her eyes and laid her hand on his. "It's important. He is too trusting and a little easily swayed. Can't you remember whom you've seen him with? Who does he walk to lessons with?"

"Would you be as worried if he were not in Slytherin?"

"Yes." She poked at her eggs resting her head on her hand. "At least I think so. Yes…no…this is a trick question. I don't know. I don't have a lot of experience at this mother thing."

His soft chuckle made her lift her head and look at him, her own smile not far behind. "Okay, the Cauldron for lunch. You buy," she said, grinning. "How about next Saturday? I'm not going any where looking like this."

"My pleasure, Miss Granger."

"In the mean time, I want to convince you that you completely misunderstood what I was trying to explain about the book I'm writing. I'll give you my rough outline. I've finished it, along with a list of people I want to try to contact…or ask their relatives if they left any written records. If I promise not to use names, just number them as case studies, they may agree." She hurried to the sitting room and returned with a journal and a notebook, which she put on the table between them. "I've been on the internet for days. I know it's grasping at straws that I will find anyone that way. I had hoped that one of the archived newspapers would turn something up. It's amazing what you can find."

"I will not take part in and endeavour to make him into less than he was. If you…"

"No," she laid her hand over his again. "That's not it. Please...just listen. If he was …heartless…because of some potion his mother took, why was it never a known side effect? Potion makers have been brewing it for years. Don't you think they …or a healer or…someone…would have been born like him before?"

"Have you forgotten Gellert Grindelwald? The Dark Lord was not the first wizard to try to control this world by killing everyone that disagreed with him."

"Perhaps I need to go back…back to his time as well. If Dumbledore was correct in his assumption, and we both know it was only his assumption, that a potion caused him to be so completely and utterly evil, it would stand to reason that Grindelwald's mother used it also."

"If such information was written, which I highly doubt, it would be almost impossible to discover."

"Given the life expectancy of wizards I have to disagree. Potioniers, like Healers, keep records. This may be the last chance we have. In a few years, yes, you will be correct but there is still time."

"An Interesting turn of phrase."

"What?"

"The last chance we may have. Tell me, please, who is this we you speak of?"

"Me and…and…" she stammered.

"No."

"What happens if there is another one right now? That's why this is important. We have to find out if it was the potion and if so do something about it... and if not, which I suspect…at least warn people. Let them know how it happened. Let them be on the look out for the next. It's not good enough to say 'because he wanted power' or 'he was evil'. Those things happened after he was already on his way to corrupt our world."

"Another interesting phrase, our world."

She explained that she wanted information she could only secure from people that had known him at a young age. Going over the fact that she was still drawing a blank, and having problems finding documented information, she had thought there might be hints in the old Tom Riddle files. Then, asking questions that skirted around Snape's involvement with the Death Eaters, she was finally able to hone in on what she wanted. Explaining that she could not hope to understand the man without understanding the boy, she saw him raise his eyebrow and look at her quizzically.

"I want his school records," she said, locking her eyes on his. "I want to know what he was like. Truly like. We all know what Dumbledore thought. How did he know? Or, was he just…guessing? Did he ever feel the same way about others? Don't try to convince me that he found a scared hurt boy that could talk Parslemouth and assumed he was going to be the next Dark Wizard. What did he know? I want to start with his admission forms, any physical exams they gave new students, and …"

Snape held up his hand and silenced her. "His records have been moved. Not only were they thoroughly gone over during the war in hopes of gaining information, but the Ministry has since made a concerted effort to stop curiosity seekers from over running the school."

"I don't mean his official records. I want the teacher's files…his class work. I think it would be telling to see what they had to say about him and if any of his essays survived…to see into his mind. You said Filch kept a file that is still at Hogwarts. What about before him? Was there a caretaker that gave him the idea to keep track of students?

The orphanage he grew up in closed years ago, his caretakers long dead. Even the other kids would be gone by now. Why did he keep going back there in the summer? Why would they keep taking him? Severus, there are too many whys to let this go."

"I agree as do many of the staff members that it is time to stop this fascination with what has happened," Snape said quietly. "There are families that are unjustly maligned because a member turned to the dark side. I am sure if you were a Goyle or a Nott, you would understand that better. Not all were on the dark side."

"Some whole families were," she said softly. "Anyway, I don't plan on mentioning anyone by name. I'll present a series of case studies. Medical texts are written that way…I know I can do it."

"I see. Tell me, when I read of a young student, befriended by the most evil monster this world has seen in many years, one that treated him as a son to gain his allegiance, should we pretend we don't know who it is? Should I forget the work it has taken to clear my name and tell Minerva that once again she must put off retirement because I can no longer teach or advance in my position?"

"Severus, no. I never intended that, never. Once the first war began, everything was already set in motion. We need to go back before that. Before he returned to England. What happened in Albania? What happened before that? What happened to him that made him kill an old lady to steal her treasures? He was already planning this when he was a student here, long before you were born. What caused it? Remember, he spoke to Slughorn about what he was thinking.

I don't want this to come between us. I would appreciate if you went over my notes before you make your decision and if it is no… I'll never bring it up again."

"Short of gagging you I doubt that statement," he said dryly, pulling her notepad and journal in front of him.

"Shut up, Professor Snape. " She swatted his arm laughing. "Just read it."

Hearing a knock at the front door, she started to the sitting room. "That was fast. The grocer said it would take hours. We can have biscuits with that tea now."

Throwing the door open her smile slipped from her face. "Harry. I…how did you know where to find me?"

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

"Oh, Harry." She threw her arms around his neck and buried her head into his neck.

"I'm in licensing and regulations this month. I just saw the list of wands registered to the new Hogwarts students." He hugged her in return, only releasing her when she pulled against him.

"I wanted to see you so many times. I can't tell you how I missed you but I had no idea how to reach you." Hermione reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. "I thought you still hated me and wouldn't want to see me anymore."

"I was worried you wouldn't want to see me. I knew if you were coming back it would be when your son started Hogwarts… so I waited."

"Brother." She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen, biting her lip. "Tea? We were just having a cup. Join us?"

"Us? Umm…sure." He followed her into the next room coming to a halt at the doorway. "Professor."

"Potter." Severus nodded in greeting as he stood. "Miss Granger, thank you for sharing your research. I will get back with you once I have had a chance to read it."

Harry watched as they said goodbye and exchanged pleasantries keeping his silence until the door had closed and Hermione turned back to him. "I thought he still lived up at the school during term. Isn't he still Head of House?"

"Yes…yes he is. He was here to collect some work I've been doing. Do you still take your tea the same way?"

"Yeah, same as always. I was surprised to see Snapes address on Hugo's registration card. How long have you been living here."

"I had to sell Mum and Dad's house and I must say I have never had such a hard time finding a place. In the States I always found something the first day out…here…with no car…it was almost impossible to find something suitable. We moved here this summer, just before the letters came out."

"Why here?"

"I was working at the Institute, just north of here and needed something close to the train in an area Hugh could go out in. Enough about me…what have you been up to? I want to hear everything!"

"You're working at Harrington? I've heard bad things about them. You know, falsified testing and…"

"Was…was working for them." She joined him at the table carrying two cups of steaming hot tea. "I had a difference of opinion with my boss. He thought I should sleep with him and I disagreed. A simple matter really."

"I'm surprised you didn't hex him." Harry laughed, stopping when he saw her look of surprise. "Sorry."

"We were kids, Harry. I hope we've both learned not to use magic as easily as we once did."

"So…now you are living with Snape?"

"No, I am staying at a house he was kind enough to let me use. I happened to run into him," she said, laughing at the memory of their car accident. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

"The signature on the receipt for the wand was Snape's."

"He took Hugh for his supplies."

"That's strange, don't you think? Snape doing something like that?"

"No. Harry, all that was a long time ago. We've grown up and he doesn't have to hide his every move and thought from Riddle or bow to Dumbledore. It makes a difference. He's… different now. He's changed…and I guess I have too."

"People don't just change. Anyway, I was just curious." Harry set his cup down, leaned back and studied Hermione's face. "Usually it's a parent that buys a student their first wand. Strange it was Snape."

"Meaning what?" She slammed her cup down on the table and glared at him.

"Only that before the final battle you were helping him brew, spending a lot of time with him. If the two of you…"

"That's enough." She stood and walked to the back door, yanking it open. "If this is all you came for it's late and I'm tired."

"No, I wasn't going to mention any of that until I saw Snape was here. Hermione, I wasn't passing judgement. I know he isn't what we all …well, what Ron and I thought at least. You always stuck up for him. If he took advantage of a student, bloody hell, it's not too late to make him step up to his responsibility."

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare ever say that again! Call me what you want, but don't ever cast aspersions on him! He almost died saving us. This whole damned world was against him…most of it still is because of stupid rumours like that."

"If anyone knows that it's me. I spoke for him at the trials you know. I defended him," Harry grumbled. "I'd like to see Hugo. I argued with your Dad over wanting to take him. He should have been raised in …"

"You arrogant, spoiled, holier than thou, self appointed saviour! What the bloody hell would you do if someone came to your door and said they wanted one of your children? You idiot! How did you think he would take it?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry spat back. "I told Ginny about Hugo…not that he was yours, only that your parents had adopted a boy that…"

"And of course she agreed that the poor little dear would be better off with her."

"He would have!"

Hermione sighed and pulled the door open wider. "I'm not fighting about this. Just leave. Leave and don't you dare try to contact him. If you do, I'll take him away. I thought you came to see me…not to fight about this again. My gods, it's been years. Let it go."

"I wanted to help." Harry stopped in front of her on his way out. "I didn't come here to have a row. I wanted to see you."

"You didn't come here as a friend. A friend wouldn't do this," she said, feeling the sting of tears. "This is why I haven't sought you out. This. Now go. Just go."

'