Chapter 40
They had returned to Snape's office after their walk around the school grounds, to find the Ministry-embossed scroll floating ominously above his desk. He'd snatched it up, cracking open the wax seal with an impatient twist of his hands, and held out the letter so they could both read it together.
It was from the office of Minister Umbridge, requesting that he attend the Ministry the following morning for a meeting with her regarding the changes to the educational arrangements for September.
"What changes?" he muttered, reading the missive again to be sure of the time.
"You don't know?" she asked.
"No idea. I have heard nothing of any proposed changes, from either the Ministry, or from the Dark Lord."
"That is worrying, then."
"Not necessarily. I shall go to the meeting tomorrow, and hear for myself. No doubt I shall need to call an Order meeting afterwards, whether the changes are good or bad."
Hermione sighed. They'd had such a pleasant afternoon, alone in the protective environs of the warded Hogwarts grounds, simply spending time together, out of reach of those who would do her harm. The summer weather was hot and sunny, and she'd even forgone her shoes, enjoying the feel of the long grass beneath her bare feet.
Professor Snape had shown her the scorched patch of grass where he had obliterated the remains of the Horcruxes that he'd stolen from Voldemort's vault at Gringotts. It was huge, at least twenty feet long, yet he'd told her the Fiendfyre had burned for less than ten seconds. No wonder that Crabbe hadn't been able to control the Fiendfyre he'd conjured in the Room of Requirement, if a powerful wizard like Snape caused damage of this magnitude. The stupid idiot had killed himself, and very nearly the rest of them, too.
A loud shout of her name in a familiar voice had her jerking her head up in happy surprise.
"Hagrid!" she yelled, breaking out into a run and sprinting towards the gamekeeper's hut that her friend had just left.
She leapt into his arms and allowed him to lift her clean off the floor.
"Oh, Hagrid!" she wept, not able to stop the tears of relief at his safety from flowing.
"Oh, 'Ermione," he replied, setting her back on the floor and wiping the huge tears that were dropping like rainfall from his own eyes. "Yer safe. Perfesser Snape 'ere said you was safe, and here yer are!"
He hugged her again, and she felt great joy at being wrapped in his huge, if not somewhat smelly, embrace. He apologised for not inviting them in for tea, explaining that he was still trying to straighten his hut after months of absence. Remembering Hagrid's dreadful tea with a smile, Hermione was more than glad to pass a pleasant hour outside, hearing of his adventures living in the forest, which he seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed.
"It will be a different story in the cold of winter, Rubeus," Snape warned, his tired face etched with concern. "During the summer is the only time I can allow you back onto Hogwarts grounds when you are not at risk of detection."
"I know that, Perfesser. But you Order folks, you'll think of summat before then, wont'cha?"
"That is the plan," the headmaster replied, his face neutral so as not to give Hagrid any false hopes.
Hermione left Hagrid with more hugs, and a promise to visit again very soon, and began to walk up the hill towards the school, past the scorch mark, and Snape surprised her by reaching for her hand. This was not something they had done before, simply walked out of doors, holding hands. It was very strange, but also rather nice. It smacked of normality, rather than an action demanded by the compulsion curse.
When they reached the top of the hill, he stopped, turning around to look down upon the grounds. The view, as always, was breathtaking, although today Hermione felt something different, a pressing question to ask.
"They're all buried here, aren't they?" she asked, looking at him in profile as he gazed out over the grounds. "All those who died in the battle?"
"They are," he confirmed, after a pause. "They are all here. Light and Dark alike. This ground, these lawns, are their final resting place."
Tears began to spill from her eyes again as her mind filled with thoughts of Harry, of Ron, of all her beloved Weasleys, of Neville, and Tonks, and Colin … the list went on and on. She felt Snape put his arm around her shoulders, providing quiet but tangible support.
There were no words to say.
-xxx-
Severus persuaded her to stay for dinner, and for another night, and since she was set upon giving Lupin and the Malfoy girl their space, she agreed.
They dropped into bed at an early hour, emotionally exhausted, but although they were naked, they simply draped their bodies around each other, their heartbeats slowing into sleep almost immediately. She was not compelled, the amount of times they had made love had seen to that, probably for a couple of days, at least. She was simply gaining comfort from the proximity of his body, from the warmth of his touch, and that to him meant more than any screaming orgasm he could gift her with.
It was a curious feeling, this one, this feeling of being needed, but he liked it. He liked it very much indeed.
He woke her early in the morning, needing to return her to Grimmauld Place before he left the school, since the castle wards would only allow her to remain here whilst she was his private guest. She slipped her dress over her head, mumbling that she needed to urgently change her clothes, and he guided her to the main fireplace in his office and embraced her on the heart rug, feeling her still warm and drowsy with sleep.
Gathering the small witch into his arms, he was reminded of why he was doing this. He was not only trying to save the wizarding world, which actually sounded ridiculous, as if he were some kind of hero, but his main fight was for a future with this girl. He wanted Voldemort dead, so that her compulsion was gone. He needed her to want him without it.
Placing a single kiss on her hot forehead, he passed her the pot of Floo powder so that she could sleepily scoop up a handful. She tossed it into the fire, calling out for the Grimmauld Place kitchen, and he watched her as she spun through the flames to her destination.
Once she was gone, he returned to the bedchamber and into his bathroom, setting the shower to run and stepping beneath the heavy jets of water. He had a meeting with Umbridge, and if that wasn't unpleasant enough, being in the mere presence of the woman, he was also certain that she was about to ruin his day. What changes she and the Dark Lord would request, he knew not, but the sense of foreboding was leeching off him like a cancer.
Once showered, shaved, dried and dressed, he stalked back into the office where he had kissed Granger goodbye less than an hour previously, entering the Floo and heading for the Ministry commuting fireplaces. It was time to do battle with the pink Pygmy Puff.
-xxx-
Hermione walked through the empty kitchen and up the stairs of Grimmauld Place, trying to avoid the creaky ones since it seemed that everyone was still fast asleep. As she reached the middle floor, she saw that Orla's bedroom door was wide open, and she couldn't help peering in as she passed. Her bed was empty, and had not been slept in.
She experienced a brief stab of panic as she wondered where on earth her friend was, before wondering something. It was irrepressibly nosey, she knew that, but she tiptoed back across the hallway to Lupin's room, and cracked the door open, just a little.
They were laying in bed together, fast asleep with the covers kicked off, since it had been a very hot summer night yesterday. It looked as if they were sharing a pair of his pyjamas, with Remus in the bottoms and Orla wearing the top. Teddy was nestled beneath them, fast asleep on his back, his little arms and legs spread out like a starfish, sleeping later than he normally would, probably due to his comfortable and secure position between them.
Hermione smiled to herself at the sweet tableau they made, pulling the door shut noiselessly behind her. They must have completed a bonding ceremony last night, for there was no way Lupin would have permitted himself to be in bed with Orla, otherwise. She would offer her congratulations, later in the day.
Carrying on to the end of the hallway, she opened the door to the master bedroom, which was her room, not that it felt like it. Grimmauld still felt very much like Sirius Black's family home, rather than her own. Maybe that would change, in the future, once she wasn't obliged to voluntarily imprison herself here.
She threw off her clothes and banished them to the laundry basket, reaching for a fresh pair of pyjamas and jumping into the welcoming embrace of the bed, for sleep had not been a priority the last couple of days. Closing her eyes, Hermione could not help but think of him.
-xxx-
Severus was ushered into the minister's office by an unctuous little wizard, and found himself face-to-face with the horror that was Dolores Umbridge for the first time since she'd been ousted from Hogwarts by a herd of rampaging centaurs. She'd looked a lot less arrogant then, being dragged out of the forest by Albus with her hair full of twigs and clothing askew, a look of demented terror on her fat little face.
"Ah, Snape," she trilled, in that revoltingly girlish voice he remembered only too well. "Come in, come in. Sit down. We have much to discuss. Very exciting news!"
He walked into the all-pink office decorated with all manner of cats and kittens, frills and fripperies, feeling like a shit on a carpet in his all-black attire. If he stayed too long she'd probably charm his robes pink. He sat gingerly on a fussy little chaise in front of her desk. How had this joke of a witch ever risen to such a position of power? It was beyond him.
"Good morning, Dolores," he intoned, dully, his one nod towards politeness.
"Minister Umbridge, I think you'll find!" she simpered, and he wanted to punch her right in the face, no need for a wand. "Now, I have a written list here for you, Headmaster, of all the changes that are to be made at Hogwarts, ready for the new term to start in September."
She passed him a thick sheaf of parchments.
"Is this meeting not to discuss and agree changes?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Discuss and agree? Oh no. There are no discussions, only the wishes and instructions of the Minister for Magic. Now, see here. Muggle-borns are still banned from the school, of course, but as from September there will also be restrictions on half-bloods, and special privileges for purebloods, who are of course, the lynchpins of our new society!"
What the actual fuck? Severus flicked through the parchments, a few choices phrases jumping out at him:
Purebloods to have private bedchambers.
Purebloods to have smaller, private classes with separate teachers.
Purebloods to be educated separately from half-bloods with instruction given on the importance of retaining their bloodlines when they marry, or copulate.
Purebloods to dine at one end of their house table, closest to the front, and half-bloods at the opposing end.
Half-bloods to have instruction on the crime committed by their magical parent of diluting pure magical bloodlines, to ensure these are not polluted further in their own marriages.
Relationships outside of marriage are not permitted for half-bloods.
Relationships outside of marriage are permitted for purebloods, provided their partner is of equal blood status.
The list went on, and on … and on.
"Do these instructions come from the Dark Lord?" he asked.
An unpleasant look passed over her face, although it was quickly replaced by the vapid, simpering smile.
"From the Dark Lord? Of course not, Snape. As I said in my initial speech as Minister, I have been given his express permission to implement whatever new laws and regimes I see fit. Restrictions will also be placed upon half-bloods as they leave school and enter employment, with taxation and payment scales adjusted accordingly. He trusts me implicitly."
The Dark Lord doesn't trust anyone, you stupid bitch, Severus thought.
"Are you aware that the Dark Lord is himself a half-blood?" he asked.
"Why, of course! And I also know that he despises that fact. Despises that his mother sullied her gift of magic by befouling it with Muggle genes."
"And you believe he will be in approval of your proposals?"
"They are not proposals, Snape. These are the new reforms that will be made to the school."
"You do realise this this will involve recruiting new staff, to teach these private classes that you indict?"
"Well, of course," she trilled, as if she believed he was coming around to her warped way of thinking. "The Ministry of Magic will provide whatever budget you need."
"That is very generous," he replied, his mind whirring fast as he realised that the stupid woman may just have played right into the hands of the Order, since there was no possible way that Voldemort would have agreed to these changes, changes that reduced half-bloods to a lower status than purebloods.
She smiled, widely, like a cat about to devour a particularly juicy mouse.
"What is your own provenance, Minister Umbridge?" he asked, and he swore he observed her cool façade slip momentarily.
"Why, I am a pureblood, descended from the Selwyn family, with provable magical heritage!"
"Of course," he replied, smoothly. "And you are aware that I myself am a half-blood?"
"You are?" she said, with mock surprise. "I had no idea. Of course, your salary will have to be adjusted accordingly, for we cannot have half-bloods being paid more than purebloods, whatever their position. That would be unthinkable!"
"Indeed."
Severus rose, taking the folder of parchments with him. Umbridge thought it was instructions, he considered it … evidence.
"I shall take my leave, Minister, since I now have much to do with the remaining weeks of my summer holidays."
None of these things would be what she had instructed.
"Thank you, Snape. I look forward to visiting the school in the autumn and seeing the success you have made in implementing my plans."
One twitch of his wand … that's all it would take. But committing an assassination in the middle of the Ministry of Magic might not be the best idea to secure his own future outside the walls of Azkaban.
Instead, he dampened his ire internally, and jerked his head once in farewell before leaving her office, with what he believed to be the key to destabilising the Ministry held securely in his hands, gifted to him by the Minister herself, no less.
As he stalked through the black-tiled corridors of the Ministry, he could not help but hear the shouting that echoed along them from outside the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, and the unmistakeable screech of Lucius Malfoy berating a couple of Aurors.
"What is the meaning of this?" he was screaming, brandishing what was now a rather battered piece of parchment in the Aurors' faces. "How can this be allowed to happen? Find my daughter, you idiots!"
"Can I be of assistance, Lucius?" Severus asked, smoothly, as he drew alongside the trio. "What has happened?"
"This has happened!" Lucius shouted, thrusting the parchment into Severus' hands. "I received this over breakfast! An official Ministry scroll, congratulating me on the marriage of my daughter to that fucking werewolf, Remus Lupin! I didn't even know he was still alive, let alone interfering with teenage witches!"
Severus made no comment, but kept his expression serious as he handed the parchment back to Malfoy.
"No stone is to be left unturned, do you hear me?" he screamed at the Aurors, who had clearly thought their ordeal was over with the arrival of Snape. "You will find my daughter, and you will bring her home to Malfoy Manor. She is carrying my grandchild, and I insist that she returns home!"
"As I've explained, we cannot do that, Sir," said the older of the two Aurors. "A marriage supersedes the rights of the father, and Miss Malfoy, sorry, Madam Lupin, now belongs to her husband, not to you."
She shouldn't fucking belong to anyone, except herself, Severus thought, angrily disparaging the patriarchal society in which they lived.
"The child she carries is a Malfoy, and will be brought up as such!"
Lucius' face was flushed with incandescent rage.
"Under wizarding law, approved and sanctioned by the Minister for Magic, the child she carries is not a Malfoy, but a Lupin, and will be registered thus, when he or she is born," the other Auror replied, somewhat bravely in the face of such anger, Severus thought.
"What of the werewolf laws? Why has this wretched beast not already been culled under the new legislation? Why is he alive and at liberty to rape and pillage the daughter of a respectable pureblood family?"
"You will need to speak to the section in charge of the werewolf cull, Sir."
"I will! Right now!"
Lucius pushed open the door of the Auror office with a loud bang, and could be heard shouting for the 'werewolf department' as he entered. At present, Malfoy was impotent, but Severus had no doubt that his pureblood status and extreme wealth would soon find him outside of the law and on the Lupins' trail.
He needed to call an urgent meeting of the Order.
-xxx-
Orla awoke, the small hand of Teddy batting her on the face and chuckling adorably.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she whispered, not wanting to wake Remus. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did, thank you," her new husband rumbled, his voice rusty with sleep.
"I didn't mean you," she giggled. "I was talking to your son."
"Don't save all the compliments for him," he continued, turning to face them and placing a bare arm over them both. "I like being a sweetheart too."
She laughed loudly.
"Let's give it some time, we've only just spent our first night together."
"And we are bonded," he reminded her. "I am happy, Orla. Happier than I expected to be. Thank you for staying with me last night."
She cast her mind back. They had consummated their bond, outside in the conjured forest glade in the back garden. Afterwards he had remained above her, his eyes searching her face, both breathing heavily. His lovemaking had been passionate yet tender, respectful yet erotic. He certainly knew how to move, and she felt a slight ache this morning from the sheer girth of his equipment, he was much larger than Conor or Draco, who had both been little more than boys, and especially larger than Yaxley, the thought of whom made her want to throw up.
He had remained in the garden to remove all traces of the forest, and she had gone upstairs, dithering on the landing as to which room she should go in. Was the sex just a one-time thing, a necessary evil to make their binding legal, or was it more? She supposed she should be guided by him, and headed for her own room, but left the door open.
Remus had followed her upstairs, and she'd heard him go to his own room and close the door behind him. Oh. That was her answer, she supposed, but … she'd just … felt something more. She lay on her bed, confused, still clad only in her cloak she'd worn for the ceremony.
Less than ten minutes later, he'd arrived in her doorway, his large body filling the doorframe, wearing a pair of faded scarlet pyjama trousers, and holding the matching top in his hands. His chest was bare, and she enjoyed the sight of his thick, dark-blond chest hair, and his hairy forearms. Remus Lupin really was a grown man.
"I shall not ask again, for I may have read the situation badly wrong," he'd begun, "but since we are bonded, I would love for you to join me - join Teddy and I in our room, rather than sleep alone."
"In your bed?" she asked.
"Only if you want to."
He looked so forlorn, so unsure, that Orla only took a few seconds to jump off the bed, throw off her cloak and take the pyjama top from his hands, pulling it over her head.
"Look," she said, gesturing at their sharing of the clothing, "we are like two halves of a whole, now."
"I hope so," he'd replied, sincerely, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, where he'd kissed it, his moustache tickling her skin.
Keeping hold, he led her across the hallway to his own room, where Teddy slept peacefully in his cradle, and on into the large bed, folding her into the covers and sliding in after her.
"It has been so very long since I had the comfort of someone else in my bed at night," he whispered. "Apart from Teddy, who is a bit of a bed-hogger, I must warn you."
"That's ok," she whispered back, keen not to wake the baby just yet, and edged her face towards his, across the pillows.
He looked surprised, but as their lips met he put his arm around her, lifting the back of the t-shirt and stroking her lower back. They were on their own, now. Their binding was legally consummated. Anything they did from this point on was because they wanted to.
Remus might be grieving, emotionally needy, sad and lonely, but all this masked a lionhearted Gryffindor passion that she had seen a glimpse of in the garden. As he returned her kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth and his fingers between her legs, it was clear he wanted to reawaken that part of him he had buried deep inside. She had closed her eyes, and allowed her new husband to pleasure her.
In the dim sunlight of early morning, Orla had heard Teddy whimper and begin to fuss in his cradle, so she had slipped out of bed, quickly changed his nappy with minimal fanfare, and then brought the baby into bed with them, where the child fell asleep again almost immediately, clearly feeling the proximity and familiar smell of his daddy, and was comforted by it.
Orla breathed in Teddy's delicious baby smell, mixed with the aroma of sex and the pure testosterone of his father, and closed her eyes, feeling completely comfortable and at peace for the first time in a very, very long time.
Later that day, Hermione caught them snogging in the kitchen.
"You completed your bonding then, I take it?" she asked.
"We did," Remus advised her.
"Well, congratulations. Sincerely. With everything that we have all suffered, to find a bit of happiness is a blessing. I am so happy for you both."
Remus hugged her tightly, thanking her, and reassuring her that they were taking things slowly and getting to know one another, but yes, they were very happy.
"It didn't feel that slow last night," she whispered in his ear, when Hermione's back was turned.
"Wait until just before the full moon," he warned, his eyes full of mischief. "I tend to go somewhat feral at that time of the month."
"I'll look forward to it," she muttered, running a quick hand over his bottom, enjoying the small flash of desire she noticed in his eyes.
Their level of intimacy between them had skyrocketed in the last twenty-four hours. It was the war, she supposed. The fear of imminent death forced people to deepen relationships quicker than they otherwise might have, should the world not be so precarious.
Not that she minded. Remus John Lupin was an unexpected pleasure.
-xxx-
"Your binding is absolute," Kingsley announced, as all members of the Order sat around the Grimmauld Place table. "I have been down to the Ministry Archives, and your certificate is filed there. It cannot be destroyed, superseded or contested. May I offer you both my congratulations."
The usually-serious Auror smiled, showing a row of huge white teeth. Remus put his arm around Orla and kissed her cheek, proud of his new wife, and desperate to protect her.
"I would have done it," grumbled Seamus, "but congratulations all the same."
"However," Kingsley continued, interrupting him, "Audrina has additional news."
He turned to his wife, who clearly had something urgent to impart, most likely from St Mungo's.
"Remus, Orla," she began, gently. "Corban Yaxley passed away this morning, from complications arising from the injuries caused to him from the attack by Lucius Malfoy. He had never really regained consciousness, and it is likely his brain was severely damaged."
The silence around the table at Audrina's information was absolute, as if everyone knew it was Orla's right to speak first, and finally, she did.
"That evil bastard was never Hope's father," she replied, her Irish accent more pronounced in her quiet anger. "I'm glad he is dead, he cannot ever hurt anyone else the way he hurt me, and Hope will never have to know him. Remus is her father."
He held her tighter, pressing his lips to her temple. She was brave and strong, just like Dora had been. He loved them both.
"I am proud to be Hope's father," he told everyone. "For those who do not know, Hope Lupin was my mother's name, and Orla chose the name independent of knowing this. We hope to be allowed to raise our family in peace."
There was a murmur of approval that rippled around the long wooden table.
"Lucius Malfoy will be pushing hard for your arrest under the werewolf culling laws, you must be aware of this, Remus. That is the only way he can regain his daughter, and assert his rights to his granddaughter – with your death," Kingsley told him, insistent that he understand the gravity of their situation. "He has already been successful in having more Aurors assigned to your case, that is, seeking your capture."
"Then I'd better make sure I keep myself alive then," he replied, with a flippancy that he did not feel.
"No one can find you here, Lupin," Snape reminded him. "If you stay here, and do not go seeking adventure out of some misguided desire to do something."
"I have no intention of leaving, Severus. I have learnt from my friend's mistakes. I do not crave adventure, I wish only for a safe and happy life with my wife and our children."
Snape nodded, acknowledging his sincerity, but the poignant moment was interrupted by Garth choosing that moment to let out a loud fart, from his reclined position in Fleur's arms, seated quite happily on top of her pregnancy bump.
"Garth, mate!" exclaimed Charlie. "There's a time and a place for everything, little man."
"You should try having a baby," Remus advised him. "That was nothing compared to the stinkers that Teddy lets rip with."
"Trois mois!" Fleur exclaimed, "and ze bebe will be 'ere."
"Three months, for the non-French speakers among you," Charlie advised, cheekily.
"Will you be staying in England, Charles?" asked Minerva, seated at the far end of the table.
"For the time being, yes. Fleur needs help and I am there to provide it. It will be my great honour to assist in raising my brother's son."
Remus watched as McGonagall nodded approvingly, as she had done when he himself had claimed Hope as his own. Even though he and Charlie were both long out of school, it seemed their Head of House still felt pride in her Gryffindors' achievements.
"Now that all infants and dragons have been distributed," Snape chipped in, witheringly, "I must advise you all of the new arrangements for Hogwarts, rules that denigrate half-bloods to the benefit of purebloods, and a system that is intended to leech forth into the adult world. Everyone, please read, and digest."
He handed round pages of parchment that had been handed to him by Umbridge that afternoon, intended to be a list of his instructions. Instead, he explained, he planned to use it as a weapon to set Voldemort and the Ministry at odds with each other. Death Eaters and Ministry employees would need to pick a side, not realising that there was a third, secret side, and that was their own. Followers of Voldemort or supporters of Umbridge were not invited. They would find the silent majority that wanted to be free of both, and stage a coup from the inside out.
By the end of the evening, plans were in place for Severus to incite the anger of the Dark Lord, a brave feat in itself; showing Voldemort that Umbridge planned to eventually eradicate those of half-blood genes, including himself. Kingsley would enlist those supporters of the Light that worked in the Ministry, of which there was a great number that he had been covertly gathering. Audrina had identified those within St Mungo's who would bring down the Death Eater ward, if and when a confrontation took place.
How helpful, the Healer had noted, to have all the Death Eaters handily grouped together in one place, where they could be easily captured with no risk to the other patients that were spread throughout the hospital. The Death Eaters privilege of a private ward would be their downfall, within the wall of St Mungo's.
Fleur agreed that she would work with Flitwick, and they had already discussed how to use complicated and undetectable charms to seal the vaults of the Death Eaters and Voldemort's supporters within Gringotts, so that even if they arrived to make a withdrawal, the locks on the individual vaults would not recognise their owners, so Aurors could legitimately be summoned to arrest those witches or wizards for attempted theft.
And himself?
He would stay at Grimmauld Place, keeping himself well clear of the werewolf cull, and providing a central point of contact for the Order.
Remus just wanted to be a husband and father. As the sole surviving Marauder, he had no wish to be a hero.
