Disclaimer: Not mine.

Hermione's Son

Chapter 13

Hermione had only finished half of the first notebook by the time the sky was turning light. Mr. Mueller's handwriting was proving difficult to read. When he had offered her the book, he had laboriously translated into English, she had foolishly thought it would make it easier than reading the original German. Now she was rethinking her choice. Although his spoken English was almost without fault, with hardly an accent, his written words were flat and she was sure not as rich in emotion and detail as his German would be.

She opened the window and looked into the yard hoping that Raven had returned. With a sigh, she shut the sash and looked at the clock knowing if she did not hear from Severus soon she would have to catch the train to London. Although she was tempted to use apparation, she was no longer sure where she could safely appear. Fortified with a hot cup of tea, she opened the second notebook, losing track of time until the owls tapping brought her attention to the kitchen window. A quick reading of the note and she knew she had better hurry if she were to catch the train. Dressing in a rush, she took the notebook with her to read on the train, thinking she would pass the time constructively.

What kept playing through her mind, however, and making it impossible to read, was the short tersely worded note that had returned from Hogwarts. She knew the last time she had seen Severus things had gone badly, but she had hoped that by this time he would have forgiven her reaction and understood that she would only contact him if it were important.

She smiled, as the train went over a trestle, seeing the sparkling water of the ocean in the distance and the summer greenery lush and full. She thought of finding a summer rental, camping with her parents, her father on his fishing trips where he caught nary a fish. Hoping for a quite place on open water, she slipped into a daydream of warm summer nights and cool sea breezes. Lost in thought she passed the time until she heard the old man's voice. "I have read that great trauma can do that."

Shesat up straighter and adjusted her jumper, using her movements to conceal the quick glance over her shoulder and her furtive search for was a dream, a daydream, she was sure of it at the same time not sure where her daydreams stopped and her life began. "The greater the hurt, the pain, the mindless futility of it all…the more memories may be lost to protect us from the truth".

She was at a loss as to where she was and angry that his words were intruding on her. Feeling the familiar panic, she leaned her head back on the seat. Recalling the most recent thing she could remember, an old man in wheelchair and a monster's face, she sighed in relief as the past few hours came back in a rush, his unwelcomed and intrusive words fading away.

Seeing the station coming up she gathered her things and took a deep breath, preparing for the short walk to Platform 9 ¾. She had planned to stand in the back, as far away from the parents as she could. Pulling her hair back and twisting it into a ponytail, she pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and waited for the students to file out.

The sight of Hugh walking off the train broke her resolve and she ran to gather him up in her arms. After her first crushing hug, she stepped back and laughed at his red face. "Sorry, kid-o," she said. "You look so good I had to do it. Gods I've missed you."

"You could'a wore robes," he whispered.

"I came on the Muggle train. I wouldn't have blended in," she whispered back, giggling at his embarrassment. "Neither will you so take them off. You should have changed in the train. You know better."

"All the Slytherin parents wear them." He jerked his head to the far side of the platform. "Now they're going to be after me about this too."

"I'll wear some in September when I bring you back. I'll transfigure them to get here or find an apparation point." She looked at the small group of parents dressed in robes, glancing at the other parents all in Muggle clothing that she had to admit looked a lot better than she did. "Sorry. It was never dress up time on the platform when I went to Hogwarts. I wouldn't have dressed like this if I had known."

She stood up and waited until he lifted his trunk and backpack onto a trolley as she continued to watch the other parents. Seeing Snape step off the train she broke into a wide grin and started to walk towards him, stopping before she had gone more than a couple of steps. Strange, she thought, that a teacher now accompanied the students, when she saw a willowy witch walk up to him and take his arm.

"Hugh? Who is that with Professor Snape?"

"She's the new one for potions. Snape's been made Headmaster."

"How nice for him and Minerva both. She only took the Headmistress spot as a temporary position, that was years ago." She grabbed the trolley and began to push it toward the column, putting her back to Snape.

"Yeah, well I don't like her."

"She …she looks nice."

"All flirty and cheap you mean," Hugh said as took the trolley away from her. "Mica, he's a third year. Mica said Snape was all over her in the stairwell."

"Hugh! You know better than spreading tales," she said, unable to stop from looking back as the witch tucked her hand into his elbow. "What's her name?" A lump in her throat continued to grow as she watched the couple stop to visit with a small group of parents.

"I don't know. No, wait…its Brown. That's it…Something brown."

"Figures," she snipped, turning back and helping Hugh with his cart as his backpack threatened to topple. "We have to hurry. Our train home leaves in about twenty minutes. We should be at the platform by now."

On the ride home, she kept Mr. Mueller's notebook in her handbag as she and Hugo talked about what he had missed at home and what he had done at Hogwarts. She told him that her book was still in progress and if she could only find a couple more sources, she would have enough to send it to an editor on speculation. Nodding at him in all the right places, she feigned interest in what he said, all the while thinking about the new Professor Brown and the way she had looked up at Severus.

"With any luck I'll get an advancement on the book and we can find a real house," she said, cutting off Hugh's narration of his latest escapade.

"What's wrong now? You don't like it at Spinner's End?"

"I am sure Professor Snape would like his house back. If he has a...a friend now he may like some privacy. It looks like she would," Hermione said with a short laugh. "Anyway, you were the one that called it a dump."

"He gets privacy in the dungeons," Hugh sorted. "She's down there all the time except this last week when she was tromping up to his new office."

"Hugh, manners. If she is new she…"

"That's the thing. Even before he got the Headmaster spot and hired her, she was there all the time. Mica says…"

"Let's not talk about this. Okay? I want to hear about you, not …that…that witch and Mica."

"I can't talk about my father and I can't talk about Mica. Anything else on your list?" He arrogantly jerked his chin, sending his too long hair over his shoulder as he sneered at her.

"Don't talk to me like that. And as soon as we get home you get a hair cut young man."

"Talk to you like what?"

"You know full well what I mean."

"Right." He folded his arms and threw himself back against the seat. "Mica says witches that have babies before they are married are whores. Stupid whores for not taking a potion."

"I see. Is that what you think?"

"He said all Muggles are like that. I bet that's why my Dad left you. He found out what you were."

Hermione turned her head and stared out of the window wishing the train would never stop but keep on going until she could fall asleep and somehow woke up somewhere she had never been. "Are you one of his?" Laying her forehead on the cool glass, she sighed deeply and shook her head. No, no she wasn't one of his. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the rhythm of the wheels and the gentle swaying of the car. Blocking out Hugh and the old man's voice she felt herself slip away into that place just this side of reality and for the first time, knowingly sought a sleep that held no dreams.

"Sis? Wake up," Hugh's voice came to her from a fog, sounding lost and afraid. "Our station is coming up. You want to miss it? Come on, Sis?"

"No," she sat up and looked around, confused and lost. "No, no, of course not."

"We're there," he told her, nodding to the window. "We have to go now."

Hermione gathered her belongs and followed Hugh while he collected his trunk and made his own arrangements to have it delivered to the house the next day. Turning on her heel, she started home, Hugh running to catch up.

"Hey, I said I was sorry."

"I know, Hugh. I'm tired. We can talk about it tomorrow when I can think. Please, not now."

"You don't have to get all uppity with me."

She stopped and turned to him. "You called me a whore. What did you think would happen? Did you think I would just say 'poor little Hugh'? Do you think I can just keep making excuses for you and pretend nothing happened? It's time you grew up and acted your age. I'm through with it. You stop acting like a spoiled brat or I'm pulling you out of that damned school. Do you hear me? You'll go to a normal school like everyone else."

"My dad wouldn't have just left me. He wouldn't have done that. You never told me about being a pureblood. He was one wasn't he? Did you lie to him too? Did you tell him you were as good as he was? Did you hide who you were like you want to hide who I am?"

"Hugh, stop this." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "I'm tired. I have to rest and you need to stop talking about things you don't understand."

"If he was like you he wouldn't have left me. He wouldn't have cared if I was mixed or not. You lied to him too!"

Hermione's hand was shaking as she put the key in the door and pushed it open. Stepping inside she pulled off her jumper and hung it on the hook, telling Hugh to do the same. She ordered him to take his things to his room and stay there as she stretched out on the sofa, puling up a blanket that lay on the floor. Rolling over to face the cushions, she closed her eyes and tried to block out everything that he had said.

She dreamed of flames and crumbling walls, masked men and someone that leaned over her, his breath foul and putrid as his mouth closed over hers. Gagging and gasping for air, she shook her head, furiously trying to kick snakes and unseen vile shadows only to find she had no legs. She dreamed he changed to a Dementor, the Dementor's face twisting into the mask of a snake, and of Voldemort eating a little girl dressed in yellow as a bow floated in a pool of blood. She called out, screaming until her throat was raw with the taste of blood, saw Ron turn away from her and saw Snape's billowing robes as he walked away. Through it all, she heard an old man's voice calling, teasing, laughing, 'Who are you? Are you one of his?'

She woke two days later in St. Mungo's with no recollection of how she got there. Hugh jumped out of chair and ran into the hall dragging in the on-duty Mediwitch before rushing to her bedside and brushing her hair from her face, his own full of concern.

"Well, so you decided to join us." The Mediwitch chirped crisply. "This young lad has been sitting here reading to you and sleeping in the cot we set up by the window. You're a lucky sister to have a brother like him."

"I know," Hermione croaked from between parched lips. "How long this time?"

"Only a couple of days," the Mediwitch said softly. "The healer says you were physically exhausted so I don't want you worrying about it."

"I forget to eat," Hermione said, struggling to sit up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it...you know…what I said," Hugh said, peeking around the Mediwitch's arm.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Hermione gave him a weak smile. "If it were I would have just smacked you. Now get over here and give me a hug."

"I was scared when you kept screaming."

"Screaming?" She looked up at the Mediwitch, seeing her small nod and quick glance at Hugh. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you I was sick once and it could happen again. How did you get me here?"

"Raven, I sent him. I didn't know what else to do. Some Healer came and took you, then came back for me."

"You did just right," the Mediwitch said as she finished taking Hermione's vital signs. "He said you just laid down and went to sleep. You had an argument? It could be the stress related. Anyway, he became concerned when he couldn't wake you the next day and you seemed to be having nightmares. Any headaches?"

"No. I didn't sleep well…what night was that? Monday I think. I went to Germany for the day…Tuesday I guess. I got home late and stayed up all night before collecting him from the station. Hogwarts you know. I must have been tired."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"It must have been…the day before I left…I think. I feel fine now."

"Three days? As soon as the doctor releases you, I want you to go home and eat. After that, you climb in bed and rest. None of this up at all hours. When you wake up you do it again, eat and sleep…that's it for two days. Boy? You make sure she does as she's told now."

"She does that. Stays up all night," Hugh said, peeking around the Mediwitch again and giving Hermione his best twelve- year old scowl. "She only sleeps a little at a time but yells at me for going to bed late."

"Hugh! Sit."

"He's fine," the Mediwitch said with a chuckle. "Now, who is taking you home? Your brother says you don't have a floo."

"No. We like the trains." Hermione gave a small laugh. "Gods, what was I thinking. I should have put one in."

"Who can I call for you?"

"There's just the two of us. Really, I feel fine and I can rest on the train."

"No, we will only release you if you have someone to take you. If not you stay right where you are."

"Professor Snape. We are staying in his house."

"Renting," Hermione said quickly. "I don't want him disturbed."

"You always disturb me," Snape drawled as he threw his travelling cloak on the only chair in the room and came close to the bed. "Her Healer contacted me. She is released into my care."

"She doesn't need much. Make sure she eats and gets some rest. She should be fine in a couple of days. We gave her a couple of potions to boost her system and one to calm her, just in case." She looked up at Snape with her eyebrow cocked, jerking her head to Hugh. "We never know for sure how these things play out and don't want a repeat of …"

"I'm down here. Remember me? The patient?"

"Mr. Granger, were you not invited to a friend's house?" Snape asked Hugh, ignoring Hermione.

"Yeah, but she said I couldn't talk bout him no more."

"Try again, Mr. Granger," Severus pinched his nose. "In English this time."

"Yes, sir. I was. However my sister does not want me associating with him."

"That is not what I said," Hermione corrected as she leaned forward to see around Severus' hip. "I told you on the train that I didn't want to talk about him non-stop."

"Good, do not talk about him. There is a floo in the lobby." Severus scowled at Hugh and pointed to the door. "Go."

He held up his hand to stop Hermione's protests. "I do not have the time or the inclination to listen to your feeble protests. Get dressed."

"He doesn't know the first thing about pureblood manners. He's going to make mistakes and …" Hermione snapped.

"And learn from them," Severus intoned, pinching the bridge of his nose again, a pained expression on his face. "Why must everything concerning you result in an argument? Just once, just once in your life do as you are told."

"Told? Told by you? I think not!"

"Well," the Mediwitch smirked as she left. "The two of you should get on just fine."

~o0o~

Later Hermione sat in the kitchen a bowl of soup in front of her and a glass of milk at her elbow. She ate a couple spoonfuls before complimenting Severus on his ability to open a tin and assuring him that although it was hard work, it was nothing she could not do herself.

"Hermione, you need to make sure this does not happen again. You should be thankful he contacted St. Mungo's and not a Muggle hospital. This is not a neighbourhood known for being helpful to strangers nor is this house that many would care to enter even in an emergency."

"I will. I felt tired and …I'm fine now. If you could let Hugh know to come home tomorrow, he will see that I eat. I did want to ask…how did the Healer manage to apparate here?"

"Hugo's letter contained the address, one that is on file at St. Mungo's as my residence. They contacted me."

"So, you brought the Healer? I should have guessed…thank you for that. Now, Hugh needs to come…"

"He will be at his friend's house three days. Mr. McAlister, son of Jonas and Rebecca McAlister. Do you need more?" Severus frowned and leaned back in his chair, studying her as she ate.

"I don't know those people. I want him home until I meet them and …" she stopped seeing his face darken. "I wouldn't do anything to harm him. You should know that."

"Yet you do so every time you let yourself slip into this condition."

"I think you should leave now." She stood and carried her bowl to the sink, putting her back to him.

"What else is wrong?"

"I went to Germany. For the book. Research. I found someone that knew Riddle after the Muggle war. Gods, it was awful…just awful. I did everything wrong. I even had to use a memory charm, and then on the way home Hugh called me a whore. If I wasn't exhausted I could have dealt with it. I wanted to write to you when I came home. I didn't think I should."

"He is twelve. He hears things and when they hurt he repeats them to get a response from you." He watched her start to wash her bowl and set it on the side of the counter, knowing she was stalling. "Hermione, I have never given you reason to avoid me or not to correspond anytime you have a need. You made a choice. Although I do wish you hade made it differently, it was not dependent on any other facet of our lives. If you put restrictions on our …friendship…that too was your choice."

"I did write to you."

"You asked only that I put a few minutes aside to talk to you. You said nothing that led me to believe it was urgent."

"I didn't think it was urgent." She turned back to him and rejoined him at the table. "I'm worried about Hugh."

"I have little experience with boys of single parent households such as yours. However, I am aware that Hugo poses special…challenges."

"It's not that. He is changing. I don't mean just…growing up…but…changing. It is not what he said. It's as if he took delight in hurting me. He is … he said he didn't mean it later but I'm not so sure. Between Germany, and what I learned there, what he said, my dreams…which I might add I have not had for a very long time and came back with a vengeance… and seeing you at…seeing what I did in …fuck."

"Seeing me?" He said, not even making the smallest effort to keep the humour from his voice.

"At the station, the day after I came back," she admitted. "I wanted to talk to you but you were already engaged in a conversation."

"About?"

"That we should move. You never meant to have us here this long. I believe you said only until I found somewhere suitable. I don't need to be near the train any longer, haven't for a while now."

"As Headmaster, I need to stay at the school this summer. I have no need of the house."

"You don't mind? You are sure?"

"To be honest, I think this house needs a family in it." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, putting his finger to her lip, stopping her from chewing on it. "Now tell me the truth."

"Severus, I have journals full of terrible things. Riddle was in Nuremburg. I found a witness. He…Riddle I mean… was already older than I had hoped to find…but it's the first concrete evidence I've found that he lived as a Muggle. Read a few pages of those journals, the ones on my desk, while I change. The pages I've marked…read those first. I want to know what your first impression is. "

His face became unreadable as he leaned back stiffly in his chair. "This is the source of your stress, you should…"

"Just take a quick look," she called back as the climbed the steps. "I won't be long."

"You believed him," he said, lifting his head from the journal for the first time as she came down the stairs dressed in a summer shift. He let his eyes linger on her longer than he should have, lowering his eyes when he realized she had begun to fidget.

"Yes. Yes I did. There is no other explanation for the paintings." She sat opposite him and watched as his eyes continued to scan the notebook. "My gods, it made me sick. Before I went, I didn't think there was anything that monster had done that would have surprised me. Why? Why would he have done it? He didn't do anything without a reason.

One more thing…Riddle's final persona, Lord Voldemort. The date on the picture coincides to his re-emergence here. Mueller painted it the year after the Tri-Wizards Tournament. I don't understand all the symbolism in the more modern pieces. I want to get to the museum in London and see it I can dig up a student of someone willing to help me.

Severus, it was always assumed that Harry's scar held a part of Voldemort that allowed them see each other's thoughts. What if Mueller is the same way? Vol…Riddle crushed his legs…or more likely use a Cruciatus on him, it stands to reason. "

Snape took the notebooks and placed them on top of the bookcase. "I will spell them to remain there if you do not rest. If you expect me to believe that your relapse was caused only from exhaustion you are not the bright witch I thought you were."

"I want his original German account. I'm missing something …it may be important."

"My guess is that your episode began due to your trip, not due to exhaustion. You did not sleep that last night you retuned, not because of the work you wanted to do but because of…"

"Stop it," she hissed. "I…I cast a memory charm on Mueller. At the end…he…he knew who…or rather what…I was. He became…agitated and… He was scared of me. Of me! It scared the bloody hell out of me to see him like that. I kept seeing his face."

"You did what you had to." He sighed loudly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Reconsider this project. It will change nothing."

"We always thought he was in Albania," she said, ignoring his comment.

"Yet have never found out where. In addition, you need to stop using the word we."

"Did Quirrell leave any personal belongings?"

"This quest of yours will become more difficult as you go on. I want you to stop."

"You want it?" she said with a small laugh.

"Yes, and your son. We want you to stop. You suddenly resent the meaning of the word we. How curious."

"Don't bring him into it. It doesn't concern him."

"Did the last two days in St. Mungo's concern him?"

"Severus, I can't let it go. Mueller was very clear about his mother. Riddle killed her, kept her body while he tried to 'bring her back'. He goes on to say, that after Riddle disposed of her body, she came back and killed him. Impossible with a Muggle's knowledge. That's why no one listened to him. That's what he's spent his life trying to figure out. She attacked him in his sleep…stabbed him…in the throat by the way, good aim in that. Mueller wrote that Riddle fought her off as he bled to death…but if his magic was strong enough, and he already knew wandless…we both know he could have healed himself. Then, she came back the next day to …"

"I can see you are not interested in my opinion," he said, cutting her off.

"Not if the only thing you have to say is to stop what I am doing," she sighed as she followed him to the door. "You must be busy. I don't want to keep you. I did want to say I have plans to put in a floo if I stay here. I thought your room would have the space if I moved the wardrobe."

"I should have done it years ago," he admitted. "You, however, are to do no such thing. You are to rest and keep normal hours. I will make the arrangements when I have time."

"Yes, Healer Snape," she said, trying to laugh. "Listen, I didn't forget things…or become confused this time. That's the first thing I always notice. No, this was different. Slower…not…confusing at all."

"If you insist on lying there is little I can do. Since you no longer need my presence I will…"

"No, I don't need it…," she said, studying his face for any hint of their old friendship. "It is good to see you, Severus. It was good of you to collect me and see to Hugh. I do thank you for that and of course congratulate you on your new position. I had hoped to…to see you again. I am sorry it took something like this to get you here."

Placing his hand under her chin, he held her face to his. "As am I. In hindsight, you made the correct decision. I am sure in your present state one more involvement would not be wise. I should have noticed it sooner. That is my mistake in this."

She twisted her head away from his hand. "From what I saw at the station and the tales that seem to be circulating it seems you do have a witch in your life. Something you said you didn't want. I am happy for you, Severus. Turley I am. I hope it works out for you."

"I am surprised that you of all people would believe the rumours of school children," he said, smirking at her. "I will make sure Hugh returns in three days, which should give you time to rest and time for the sticking spell on the journals to weaken."

"You bloody git!" She ran to the sitting room and tried to grab the journals from the top shelve, finding it impossible to move them as she heard the back door close and knew he had left.

~o0o~

Hugh returned the promised three days later, acting contrite and guilty. Hermione shoved her research material under the sofa, pushing it away for the summer as her eyes went to the top of the bookcase, cursing Severus' idea of a weak spell. She had made plans to take Hugh to the city and a stop in Diagon Alley one day, to the country for dinner at some out of the way resort the next. Planning the entire summer, she hoped to keep his mind occupied.

In a moment of pure nostalgia, she dragged him to church, knowing that her Mum would have been horrified to know how long it had been since he had prayed. As everyone lowered their heads, she alone gazed at the few statues that remained from her childhood, feeling them looking down at her as she studied the stain glass windows. She still found it strange that a place such as this, full of medieval concepts, could confuse the ancient texts with artist renditions of more modern times. She quietly slipped out of the pew and left the service. Leaving Hugh to come to his own decision.

"Sis?" he said, finding her sitting on the lawn. "Why did you leave?"

"Oh, it's just me kid." She patted the ground next to her. "Come sit with me. We need to talk."

"Don't you ever go to church?"

"No, not for a while now. I'll be more than glad to bring you. Just let me know when you want to come. Sometimes there are even youth groups you may want to join."

"Nah, Mum made me."

"She did me too." Hermione looked back at the church and watched as the last of the parishioners strangled out onto the steps. "I think it is organized churches that I don't like. When you get older and learn some of the ancient languages, you may want to try again. It will make more sense once you can decipher the works as they were meant to be read. You may even come to find some peace."

"I was thinking, about Voldemort. You know, during the service."

"You should wait until you are older to …."

"Why? He killed people younger than me. Anyway, do you think he could do things like raise the dead? Like Lazarus? The bible says…"

"Not even close. Lazarus had his soul, his mind…his free will. Voldemort may have thought he could do that, but no wizard has ever, nor will ever, be able to do that." She looked back at the church and wondered if Mrs. Mueller had been his first attempt to create his army of dead and if he had indeed tried to trap her soul.

Would that explain why Mueller's mother had come back, not as a mindless Inferi but as a mother seeking revenge? Without a soul, wouldn't she be only a puppet to someone else? Hermione looked up at the gothic steeple, wondering if he, like so many Christians, had misinterpreted what they read. Had he made a mistake and allowed the dead to think? To feel? To want? And if he had, who corrected him.

"Hugh? Did you bring home your history book? My old one didn't have anything in it on Voldemort. It was still too recent to have made it into the subject matter."

"Yeah, it's in my room. So, what do you want to talk about?" He toed the ground and looked down at her. "You said we could go into town after the service."

"Hugh, sit. I know what I said. We have the whole day." She tore her eyes away from the church and watched him closely as he flopped on the ground next to her, his normal pout on his face. "We need to talk, Hugh. You need to understand that no matter how much we want some things…we don't get them. Not now, not ever. We need to talk about you wanting to see you father. I thought if we did it here maybe it wouldn't turn into a row."

"Who is he? That's all I ever asked."

"All you need to know is that he was a wizard and he didn't know about you. He didn't leave you…he never knew." She reached out to push his hair from his face only to have him pull away from her. "I was seventeen. I couldn't take care of you so Mum and Dad did. They loved you, you know that."

"What was he like?"

Hermione felt her chest constrict and looked up at the sun, thinking furiously of what to say. "I don't know. When you are seventeen, everyone seems…different from what they truly are. You see what you want to see and think someone is a friend because of what you have in common, never bothering to see the differences or think ahead. Have you covered Voldemort in you History lessons? Up to the second war?"

"Yeah, some."

"He took students, sixteen and seventeen year olds. He recruited them or forced their families to make them join. It was easier for him that way. It's easier to convince a kid to do something because they don't see the truth and believe the lies. They see what they want to see…like whom they want to like…whoever talks the loudest or brags the most or perhaps knows the most magic…or has the most money."

"Did you love him?"

Hermione shook her head and saw the hope on Hugh's face fade. "At seventeen I'm not sure I understood what love was. That's the point I was trying to make. At seventeen no one knows what love really is." She reached out and touched his cheek, wanting so badly to see Ron's eyes, his lopsided grin, or the way he held his head. "I couldn't raise you. I didn't know how and I was sick. Like what happened when I fell asleep…only it lasted a very long time. When I was better I found I had lost whole years of my life. It was as if I were still seventeen…still a kid in a grown up body…I had to learn how to live all over again. It was tough, it's still tough."

"Don't you ever wonder about him?"

"No. Not at all. He is nothing to us. Nothing." She fought to keep her answers as truthful as she could, not wanting to be caught in a lie later on. "What do you say about catching lunch in town?"

"Sis…Hermione? Why won't you tell me his name? What would it hurt?"

She felt her pulse quicken as she put on a false calm and smiled at him. "It would hurt Dad. If he were here, how do you think it would make him feel?" She tipped her head up to the sky and felt the warmth on the sun wishing she could think of something to say other than the lie that sprang to her mind. "I made a promise. A wizard's oath…not to tell you. Even if Dad was a Muggle it still holds."

Hugh frowned and stared at the ground before looking up at her, his face unreadable. "The oath died with him. That's how it works."

"I'm sorry, Hugh. I'm sorry I can't change things, that I can't be a better mother, or sister. I'm sorry I am all you have." She sat watching his face until he looked away from her. "Hugh? I'm only going to say this once. After that, the subject is closed. If I ever decide to tell you about your father, it will be my choice, not yours. Yes, he is your father, but you have no right, none what so ever, to put demands on me. It's my life too, and I am not throwing it away. Am I understood?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"You will never talk to me like you did again. You will not belittle me, call me names, infer that I am a whore or that I somehow shuttled you off to my parents because I didn't want you. I could not take care of you. Do you understand?"

"Like you were in St. Mungo's? Sleeping?"

"Yes, only it was more like my eyes were open but my mind was sleeping," she said, then gave him a grin. "I was nuts. Now, I fully understand that you have thought that all along, and that you are not the least bit surprised. Come on…at least tell me I'm wrong. That you never thought that."

"Do we have to move? Just because you had a row with Snape?"

"A row? What gave you that idea?"

"He doesn't come around no more and he doesn't ask about you like he used to. I thought you liked him."

"What ever gave you that idea? No, he's an old friend…a ….no."

"Ever since that last jerk dumped you haven't gone out. Not once."

"You know that list you accused me of having? The one that I put all the things we won't talk about on?" She waited until she was him nod. "Put Snape on that list too. And while we're on the subject…add all the guys that dumped me. Just so you know…there weren't that many of them. Now come on, help a witch to her feet. I'm starving."

Hugh grinned and got to his feet. "He said the same thing when I asked him if he liked you. He said not to talk about things I didn't understand and that the subject was off limits. Can we go into town now?"

Hermione watched him walk off, opening her mouth to say something, and closing it when nothing came out.

~o0o~

The rest of the summer Hermione spent trying to keep peace with Hugh. Although he did not mention his father, and kept their conversations away from Hogwarts, he still grew sullen whenever Hermione suggested an outing that was not in the magical world. She forced him to get up with her every morning to join her on her run, took him to the cinema on a weekly basis and bought books she thought he would find interesting on their weekly shopping excursions.

By the end of July, she was reduced to writing to Severus. Pouring out the story on paper about her short temper, Hugh's continued insolence and his attitude. She knew it sounded trite and not worth his time. Going as far as apologising in the same letter for wasting his time, she tied it to Raven's leg and pushed him off the ledge. Glad to see the bird return later the same day. She unrolled the paper she read his short, clipped, response, grinning as she did.

Hermione,

He is a boy. Give him pocket money and send him out of the house for at least six hours a day. If you want to go shopping and sit in the cinema watching the normal summer fare, borrow a neighbour's girl. One under the age of ten would be preferable. .

Severus

~o0o~

Five days before the start of term Severus opened the back door, saw Hermione sitting at the table in her pyjamas, quill in hand, surrounded by reams of paper and stepped backwards. Closing the door, he adjusted his robes and knocked.

"Get in here." She laughed as he re-entered the kitchen and hung his outer robes on the hook.

"It is a hard habit to get into. However, you were correct. I should not …."

"Shut up, Snape. Tea?" She laughed and levitated a cup and the teapot to the table. "Hugh's out. I must say, three Pounds a day does the trick. He not only comes home on time, he tells me all about his day. He even wants me to watch him in some neighbourhood game he's playing. I guess I'm not the mother I thought I was. I thought keeping him safe meant watching him every minute, not just keeping tabs on him."

Snape reached into his inside pocket and handed her two tickets to the World Quidditch Championship. "The Ministry made these available. Perhaps you have use of them."

"These are awful expensive." She saw the price stamp at the bottom and knew he had purchased them. "Severus? I can't accept these."

"Good," he reached back and snatched them from her hands. "You will have no objection if Hugh accompanies me?"

"Umm…no…I guess not. You will keep an eye…sorry. I worry. So hex me," she said , tying to laugh, then looked at him suspiciously. "You don't strike me as someone that wants a kid tagging along. May I ask …why?"

His hand went to the bridge of his nose as a look of a pain flittered across his face. "They have two seating areas this year. Professor Brown has reserved seats in the adult section for the entire staff. Longbottom, in a brilliant move, has awarded his best student an opportunity to accompany him."

"Ah."Hermione laughed and leaned back in her chair. "You want protection?"

"I do not see humour in this," he said, flicking unseen lint from his sleeve. "I am merely taking up the offer to join Professor Longbottom. I, being Headmaster, no longer have class to make a selection from."

"No, no you wouldn't see the humour." She broke into a new gale of laughter. "I'll make you a deal," she wheezed, trying to stop. "You un-stick those journals and I'll consider it."

He clenched his jaw and glared at her as he lifted his arm and called the journals that floated in and landed neatly on the table. "I am glad you find this funny. I, however, do not."

"I'm sorry." She bit the inside of her cheek to stop the laugh that she felt coming. "I thought you two were…getting along rather well."

"Sis! You should have seen me. I got three goals. It should 'a been more but that toe rag Donovan got in my way," Hugh called out as his footfalls thundered through the sitting room. "Did you…Snape what are…I mean…Ummm, Profess… no…Headmaster…shite. Bloody hell, are those tickets to the game? I figured you were too old to like Quidditch."

Hermione threw her hand over her mouth and left the room, knowing she was about to burst into laughter again. Pacing the sitting room as she took deep breaths, she heard Hugh charging back into the room to find her.

"Mum, Mum, please …please let me go. He said I could. He has a tent and everything with Longbottom…please. He invited me and I didn't even have to ask! Really…I didn't even hint."

Hermione looked over his shoulder to where Severus stood in the doorway. Her eyes welled with tears as she silently nodded her consent, unable to talk. As Hugh rushed by her on his way to pack an overnight bag, Severus crossed the room and lifted her chin. Using the pad of his thumb to dry her tears he smirked down at her.

"He called me Mum," she whispered. "Did you hear him? He called me Mum."