Chapter 16
The frightened whispers and weak exclamations about Dumbledore's death lead her all over the castle, frantically searching for Harry. Harry was with Dumbledore, Harry told them to stand guard at specific places and Harry wouldn't just allow something bad to happen to Dumbledore without doing anything about it. She just needs to find Harry – it's important that she does.
From here to there, and then this corner and that deserted corridor, she moves around, her eyes wide open for any person who might be wearing round glasses. As she passes more people, all of them shrugging her away, and grumbling that they haven't seen him, her fear increases telling her that she should rather just prepare herself for the worst instead of waiting for the facts.
Harry can't be dead.
Neither can Dumbledore – he's Dumbledore; Dumbledore doesn't die.
It's probably all just a rumour started by the Death Eaters to scare the students.
Well, she won't fall for it until she has the evidence in front of her.
She's not one to usually believe things without the fact, so for as long as she doesn't see Harry or Dumbledore's bodies, she'll keep running and searching around the castle. She'll go in whatever direction that she thinks she needs to go just to find him. After a while of turning here and there in the castle, she spots him climbing up the stairs on her right side.
'Harry!' she shouts for him to stop.
He stops, immediately withdrawing the step that he'd been about to make and spins around to start making his way down the stairs to her.
'Hermione! Where's Ron?' he asks, still jogging down to her.
'I don't know,' she responds, doing her part of moving to meet him. 'I was with Luna and Flitwick in Professor Snape's office.'
In no time at all, they're meeting at the third last step, with her climbing up to throw her arms around him in relief.
'Oh, Harry!' she clings onto him. 'Thank goodness! I was starting to worry. People are saying things and… What's going on?'
In response, Harry pushes out of her hold, taking her by the arm and then hurriedly pulls her along the stairs, onto solid ground and still leads her behind him until they're inside an empty classroom.
'It was Snape,' he says, out of breath and trying to catch his breath. 'He killed Dumbledore.'
At first, her eyes only look at his. She heard what he said, and seeing the red colour of his eyes, she can tell that he's been crying, but what? It's true?
'But he – ' she tries to say something, only to stop herself abruptly, realising that she doesn't have much else to say.
He's Dumbledore.
Dumbledore can't die.
He's the leader of the Order and the headmaster. He's got his own chocolate frog card, and…
'Snape killed him,' Harry coldly says, his voice irritated and raspy, and the very last stroke that she needed to make her heart drop with an intensity that weakens her.
'He's really dead?' she gasps, placing her hand over her mouth and doubling over in front of him.
Dumbledore really died?
'Yes!' Harry snaps. 'It was Snape. Snape killed Dumbledore, Hermione.'
Snape again. Harry keeps saying Snape. She heard him the first time, and the other times before that, but doesn't he know that she's only concerned about their headmaster being dead? She saw Professor Snape. He was running to help out with the Death Eaters. He couldn't have killed Dumbledore. It's impossible.
'Stop saying that,' she tells him, just barely righting herself to look him in the eye and reprimand him better for saying false things just because he doesn't like Professor Snape.
'I saw him!' Harry shouts. 'Malfoy saw him too. The Death Eaters know it was him.'
'Are you sure that it was him?' she prods, her heart beginning to race with impatience as she moves into Harry's space. 'Don't you remember? You said that all Death Eaters wear masks and disguises.'
Harry's not being fair. Did he actually see him killing Dumbledore, or did it just look like he did? Professor Snape has always been doing what he could to make sure that the students weren't hurt, so he can't have killed Dumbledore. She also knows that Harry wouldn't lie about it, but…
'Where's Malfoy?' she urgently demands, so badly wanting to prove Harry wrong and make him see that he's wrong.
'I don't care where Malfoy is! They all left. Even Snape. He's the Half-Blood Prince.'
Fine, if he doesn't know where Malfoy is, she'll go and look for him. There's no way that Malfoy will be able to lie to her about something this big.
'Hermione!' Harry shouts, roughly grabbing her wrist.
'What?' sharply leaves her mouth as she brings her focus back to Harry.
'I said, Snape's the Half-Blood Prince.'
'No, he's –' she begins to say, but all of a sudden, maybe because Harry's not shouting things, her mouth sours with an unpleasant fizziness, that she can't use it anymore.
'Yes, he is,' Harry nods, sounding quieter than before. 'He admitted to me.'
He can't be that. That Prince person was supposed to be a girl and…
Looking at Harry, her mind both empty and functioning enough to remember that she once asked him about princes in the wizarding world, she's… Harry can't just tell her these things like this. They're not true. That horrid spell that nearly killed Malfoy and all those tips in Potions, can't have been…
'We need to find Ron,' he continues to say to her. 'There's something that I need to tell you both.'
'No,' she hears herself say weakly. 'Harry… Just… I need to think first.'
'About what?' he questions, clearly disbelieving of her reaction.
'I just need to think,' she replies.
She sounded weak again, but then, shouldn't she?
'No,' he argues, taking hold of her wrist as well. 'This is important. It can't wait.'
It feels like her skin is on fire where Harry touches her, so she rips it away from him, quietly pleading, 'Leave me alone. I just need to think,' while bringing her hand to rub around her wrist where Harry had touched her.
'Hermione! He's a Death Eater!' Harry urgently whispers. 'He killed Dumbledore. He's evil. I always knew it. I always told you so. You can't like him, Hermione!'
'Don't tell me what to do, Harry Potter!' she suddenly shrieks, everything in her feeling extremely fiery and incited.
Breathing heavily, half hoping to cool her own heat and half expecting to burst apart in flames, she pins her eyes on Harry's face, willing herself not to miss a single detail about his face.
Who is he to tell her who to like and who not to?
She doesn't need Harry to tell her about him.
'Fine!' Harry angrily shoots at her. 'Defend him, but you'll see that I'm right in the end. I'm going to find Ron!'
26Chapters
Please, please, please, let him be there.
She chants that all the way to his office, only stopping to repeat it in her head when she finds the door as open as she left it with Luna. Though she clearly sees it available for her to walk through, she still wants to knock and wait for him to appear and give her a look from his table or simply invite her to come in. Se would have liked that, since it was so long ago that she did it, and much more now, she would have loved to feel something normal after being told things by Harry.
Thinking back to Harry, his words specifically, she forces herself to walk through the open door and then close it behind her. He always used to want it closed when they were in here, and because he used to silence it as well, she does that now, using her own wand to fill the room with an encasing spell to contain whatever could happen in here from this point onwards.
'Professor Snape?' she calls out, noting that her voice sounds unstable and a little shaky.
When nothing meets her call, she quietly lets out a breath, just as quietly advising herself to calm down and allow her voice to get back to normal. If she doesn't calm down, she might start crying just as he's coming out to meet her, and then he'll instead chastise her for always crying where he would've asked her why she's looking for him in the first place. She decides to look around rather than doing nothing while she calms down.
This office used to look so dreary and gloomy in the beginning. She used to think that it's cold and bleak, but since she can't remember when, it's quite natural looking to her eyes and she sees nothing wrong with it. This is the place where they spent most of their time together, where he taught her all sorts of spells, making her understand the basics of dark arts and wow, there's so much of their history in this room. From how she first hugged him, to how she saw him making mistletoe and wondering if she could ever kiss him, and now she's what, supposed to believe what looks to be the truth without him confirming it to her first?
Before she completely takes Harry's side of things, she should think rationally and -
'Lefa!' she suddenly remembers, not really calling him to come, except, he immediately appears in front of her, his eyes big and only trained on her.
Simply relieved to finally have someone in here with her at first, she lets out a gasping laugh, and then feeling desperate, she pushes her feet only a step forwards, to sink down onto her knew so that she is at the perfect height with him. Like that, she has a better view of his eyes, but even so, she reaches out to hold his hands between hers, feeling like she needs to be equal with him from all sides.
'Do you know where he is?' she begins, using her fingers in a gently pressing motion to influence him into being open with her.
He shakes his head to reply, and while she's glad that she didn't have to explain who she's asking him about, his answer doesn't satisfy her in the least. As an elf, he is supposed to see everything that goes on everywhere, isn't he?
'Is he in the castle?' she tries again, hoping that his following answer will be positive.
He shakes his head again, though, making her hope sink into her stomach, making her a little queasy and so clutch onto his hands even tighter than before.
'Could you find out where he is?'
This time, he nods, bringing back her hope to the point of expelling a sound of relief as she shifts even closer to him.
'And if you find him, would you be able to bring him here?' she asks, hungrily waiting for him to answer her.
His confirming, 'Elf magic is able to do many things, Miss,' though a very good thing to hear, makes her heart wrench unexpectedly, resulting in her dropping her head and looking down between them.
He never used her name. He called her Miss Granger sometimes, depending on how he felt, but mostly, he only called her Miss. She doesn't want Lefa or anyone else to call her that, when he's the only one who did it before, making her feel special to only him. It hurts to hear someone else say that, when the person who should be here with her isn't here. And not only that, he's also being accused of doing something horrible, and she can't talk to him about it.
'Do not be sad, Miss,' Lefa says, his small and pleading voice moving her to look up at him and then release his hands to hold his face between hers instead.
'I'll only stop being sad when I speak with him,' she explains in a rush. 'Please find him and bring him. Please. I only need to speak to him and then you can take him back.'
'Miss must understand, please,' he tries to avoid her eyes for a moment, but seems to change his mind quickly, returning his eyes back to hers and finishes with, 'Hogwarts' elves are needed tonight.'
He can't leave, 'I know,' she nods, understanding him fully, but, 'It's important to me that you find him. They're saying he did something terrible – Did you hear? I only need to talk to him, that's all. Please Lefa.'
Slowly, like he couldn't do the opposite even if he wanted to, he nods, to which grateful, she responds by tangling her arms around him and pressing him into a hug. For her own comfort, she holds onto him tightly, breathing out short breaths born of grateful relief and making herself the promise to do something nice for Lefa sometime in the future for always helping her.
26Chapters
She didn't ask Sir Nicholas how long ago he was sent to find her, but from the waiting faces of everyone in McGonagall's office, she can tell that they've been here for quite some time. They've possibly been here for as long as she's been in Professor Snape's office. All of their eyes, as she takes her beginning steps into the warm office, keep on her, following her every step, that she begins to wonder if she's done something wrong and is just now walking into an interrogation.
'Professor, you sent for me?' she asks, mostly just to diffuse the interrogative silence that she feels looming over head and making her steps heavy.
'Come in, Miss Granger,' McGonagall calmly answers her with.
That doesn't ease her at all, but rather incites her to make the quick decision of finding a place beside Luna, who's nearest to her.
'We were waiting for you,' Luna quietly tells her. 'Harry and Ronald didn't know where you were, so we waited.'
At the mention of her friends, she looks across to them on the other side of the office, and they look back at her. Because she left on bad terms with Harry, she deliberately stares at him, trying to see if he's going to change how he was just because she came in. He doesn't do anything like that, but even if he was going to, McGonagall choosing then to speak interrupts her from keeping her eyes on Harry.
'Thank you for coming, Miss Granger,' McGonagall says. 'Professor Flitwick tells me that you and Miss Lovegood were the ones to attend to him?'
'Yes, Professor,' she answers with a nod and then looks at Luna, who also nods as if to say that she is on the right path.
'He also says that Professor Snape hit him with a stunning spell. Did either of you see Professor Snape before you arrived in his office?'
Instead of giving an answer right away, she looks at Harry, wondering what he thinks she will say, but then flicking her eyes to Harry's left, she notices Trelawney looking at her strangely, and the will to answer completely leaves her. She doesn't understand why she feels like she shouldn't say anything, but she listens to that feeling, looking at Luna rather and giving her the responsibility to answer.
'We did, Professor,' Luna quickly answers, having caught her cue, 'but he only told us that Professor Flitwick fainted and that we were to look after him. He was in a hurry to get away from his office.'
He was going to help fight the Death Eaters, she silently corrects Luna in her head. He was in a hurry to do something about the invasion, not to run away.
She wonders if Lefa has gone to find him yet…
'Miss Granger?' McGonagall seems to press for her to answer.
Shocked and worried that she missed something even while paying attention, she answers, 'Professor?' very carefully.
'Do you know anything about where Professor Snape went?'
'Me?' she slowly points her forefinger to herself, purely disbelieving that such a question would be directed to her.
Why is McGonagall asking her that? Just a while ago, she was asking Lefa about him! She doesn't know anything.
'Yes, you, Miss Granger,' the woman answers, unable to recognise the inaccuracy of direction of her question.
'I was with Luna, Professor,' she says, pointing and looking at Luna for confirmation. 'I only heard what she heard.'
'It's true, Professor,' Luna validates. 'Professor Snape didn't speak to her alone. He did have three green stingers around his mouth as he left. I could tell that he wanted to say something else, but he couldn't.'
'An omen!' a raspy voice suddenly says, leading them all to face Trelawney, whose hand is outstretched, and face is held together by a dramatic expression.
'I wouldn't say that it was an omen,' Luna disagrees beside her, 'but green stingers are known for their restrictive nature. They like to fight people's true words.'
She very nearly rolls her eyes at the two people diagnosing Professor Snape in front of her like they know her, and that with false branches of magic that cannot be proven by hard evidence, but she contains herself by biting down on her teeth.
'Yes, thank you, Miss Lovegood,' McGonagall interjects and then clears her throat a little bit to pick up speaking again. 'I would still like to know where Professor Snape went, green stingers and omens or not.'
'I don't know where he went, Professor,' she answers defensively, her arms crossing over her chest.
'I saw him, Professor,' Harry volunteers at last and everyone, not just her, looks his way.
'What did you see, Mr. Potter?'
'He was – He took Malfoy – Draco Malfoy, and they were running,' Harry explains without taking his eyes off her – it's like he wants her to accept that specifically. 'They ran towards the Forbidden Forest.'
'Oh,' McGonagall accepts. 'Although I wonder why they would leave the school. I suppose that when it has calmed down, they will come back, and we will be able to work out what happened here. Thank you all for your honesty, but now please return to your dormitories. Do not roam around the castle tonight.'
A small chorus of 'Yes, Professor,' fills the room, but no sooner than it's spoken do they all hurry out of her office, each probably wanting to do what they feel is right to do. None of them say anything while still close to McGonagall's door, neither some more steps down the corridor, nor when Luna separates from them, headed in another direction. As soon as Luna is out of sight, however, Harry holds onto her arm, making her face him.
'I have to get something,' she offers before Harry tells her that they need to speak again.
'Get what?' he pulls a questioning look. 'Where are you going?'
'I have to get something,' she repeats, because what she really wants to do is go back to Professor Snape's office and climb through his floo to wait for him inside his sitting room.
It's like McGonagall said, he and Malfoy are bound to come back later, and when they do, she'll be waiting for him. Harry doesn't understand, and because he doesn't, she only looks at him until a distraction shortly arrives to save her.
'Miss Granger!'
Looking in the way that they came from, she finds Trelawney taking huge steps to them. She'd thought it luck that someone was saving her from Harry, but honestly, now, she'd rather face Harry than have anything to do with that woman.
'Could we speak, Miss Granger?' Trelawney waves her hand, and seeing no way to escape the call, she begins to step around Ron, trusting Harry to let her go and he does, leaving her to walk on to meet the woman.
Where they meet, she crosses her arms, not ashamed to show just how much she doesn't want to have a talk, that she could be (and wants to be) elsewhere, doing something else. Her waiting silence should also do a good job of letting the woman know that she would really rather not be doing this.
'Do you really not know where he is?' Trelawney asks, sounding doubtful.
'Why would I?' she snaps at the woman. 'I don't know anything.'
'Yes,' Trelawney nods thoughtfully. 'He never said much to me either, but at least he was a lot more at peace than before recently.'
Pulling a face, she wonders what the woman is going on about? She doesn't care that she had a friendship with him. She doesn't need to know that he spoke to Trelawney more than he spoke to her, so she runs a hand over her forehead, feeling annoyed and tired all at once; this needs to be over soon.
'What do you want, Professor?' she asks through closed eyes.
At this point, she doesn't care that she's being rude. She's been rude to Trelawney before - the woman can take it.
'Oh!' she lightly exclaims like she's just now realising what she came for. 'He has become a friend of sorts. I don't have friends,' she continues to say, this time looking off into the air and then back at her. 'You ought to find him at least and take him this.'
Following her words, Trelawney thrusts the apparent 'this' between them, which is safely closed inside her hand.
'What is that?' she asks, looking up at the woman to communicate that she should open her hand to reveal it.
Trelawney nods at her, apparently confirming something, which makes her look back in her friends' direction and only finding them still standing there, waiting for her, she returns to Trelawney. It's here that the woman opens her hand to reveal a small, wrapped package that could be anything from a box of Muggle matches to decent piece of toffee fudge – much bigger than the ones that they sell in the sweet shops in Muggle London, at least.
'Something that he came to me for,' the woman tells her, gently smiling at the package in her hand.
Looking at the teacher, she wonders just what in the world she must do to get this person away from her. Why is she even here, listening to her and agreeing to be a messenger for her?
'Listen, Professor –' she begins, but is interrupted from saying more.
'It soothes him,' Trelawney says with another smile, nudging her arm. 'I've read some of his cards tonight, and he will need it now that he has no one.'
Having said that, the woman puts on a grim face, concentrated on studying her face like she's waiting for something to appear there. It bores her, obviously, and not just because Trelawney is claiming to be his friend, but then is charging her with finding him and giving him something that she can easily give him. Still, she quickly snatches the package from Trelawney's hand and shoves it inside her pocket.
'Do you have his address?' she asks, and when the woman shakes her head, she huffs and turns her back to leave.
That's enough for her, and no, she won't thank the woman for caring about him.
She will just walk away in peace, collect herself so that when she reaches Harry and Ron, she'll appear calm and normal. She's exactly that, letting out an exaggerated sigh when she reaches them, complaining that Trelawney didn't want anything, she was just being her usual phoney self.
'Are you sure?' it's Ron who asks. 'It looked like she gave you something and you took it?'
'It's nothing,' she says. 'I thought that Harry wanted to tell us something important.'
'Yeah, but,' Harry answers, 'you said you had to get something.'
'I can get it later. Let's just find some other place to talk.'
26Chapters
Up until the point where he explained about needing to continue looking for the Horcruxes, Harry had her full co-operation and attention. She was placated into forgetting absolutely everything else to only concentrate on what was being said. Just now, though, when he mentioned Professor Snape, saying that Voldemort couldn't have ordered him to kill Dumbledore, Harry changed that quiet for disquiet, consequently making everything from before flare up and with it, her defences.
'What did you see in his memories that day, Harry?' she brings up in response to him claiming that, in part not appreciating how accusatory he's being without going over everything in detail.
'What memories?' Harry looks at her, confused.
Realising that she should have clarified who she was talking about, since Harry's had to view different people's memories with Dumbledore lately, she lets out a vexed sound.
'When your Occlumency lessons ended,' she clears, 'what did you see in his memories?'
'Why?' he asks very defensively, which is very suspicious to her.
What does he have to be defensive about? In fact, because he is, she's beginning to suspect that he has an important piece of the puzzle that could make the difference to what she's been putting together in her head. She's gone over that moment in her three times tonight and still nothing made sense unless she remembered a few pieces from other times that could paint a normal picture. Even that Harry didn't tell McGonagall who killed Dumbledore and then McGonagall asking her where Professor Snape went; none of it makes sense, and she's going to be honest about it.
'Because I overheard a conversation between him and Dumbledore one day,' she says, looking at Harry and then at Ron, 'and I think it was important.'
Exasperated, Harry cries out without words and then with words, he says, 'It doesn't matter anyway, Hermione. Snape killed Dumbledore, full stop. He did it!'
Ugh, that still stings to hear, and swallowing it down, she's still pretending that it doesn't affect her.
'Look, Harry, what did you see in his memories that day?' she tries again, still convinced that it might be an important piece of information - she has some theories and the puzzle pieces all need to be here for her to draw a proper conclusion from.
'What did you hear between Snape and Dumbledore?' Harry curiously redirects, but she won't let him push this back to her without hearing his side first.
'What did you see in his memories?'
Shaking his head, he looks at Ron, a little like he's trying to hide something and then only says, 'I can't tell you that.'
'Then I can't tell you what I heard either,' she firmly remarks, 'but I don't think that he just killed Dumbledore –'
'I saw him!' Harry shouts at her.
That's not what she meant, but because he's snapped at her before she even finished saying what she thinks, she snaps back at him accusingly.
'If you saw him, then why didn't you tell McGonagall and the others what he did?'
'I can't tell them yet,' he answers. 'There's something about him and I want to find out what it is. I'm always right about these things and you always try to convince me to wait. Just listen to me for once, Hermione.'
She sighs, mostly because just like him, she wants to find out about Professor Snape too. It's not as easy as Harry trying to drill it into her that he killed Dumbledore, because even if he did, there must have been a reason. Just why did he suddenly get the cursed Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching post if it was cursed? Dumbledore couldn't have run out of people to ask to be that teacher.
'Fine,' she reluctantly accepts, but only on the outside – inside, she won't just believe anything until he looks her in the eyes and she can interpret his truth from his response; if she just accepts everything without question, she might as well be like any student is to him.
'Oi!' Ron exclaims, getting their attention. 'Has it ever occurred to the two of you, especially you, Harry mate, that Snape will come to Order meetings? Think about it. If he could fool Dumbledore into trusting him, he'll obviously lie about offing Dumbledore. It's not worth it, really. You better just tell the Order what he did! I bet he'll even come to my brother's wedding. I heard Mum say that she invited him, you know. What do we do when he shows up?'
'He won't come,' Harry shakes his head with certainty. 'I just know it.'
'What if he does come? You don't know that he won't come?' she fires at Harry.
Because she does want him to come to the wedding, and Harry doesn't know everything, not about him.
'Then, fine,' he replies, sounding determined more than anything else, 'I'll ask him why he killed Dumbledore. I don't know, Hermione! I just need to know that we're with us, whatever we decide to do.'
'I am,' she confirms, even though it's through a torrent of unwillingness to drop the subject. 'What do you want me to do?'
Fine, she might as well hear it. It could be another one of those puzzle pieces for her. Yes, she's overwhelmed and tired, but she has nothing to lose while waiting for Lefa to call her, so she moves to take a seat, ready to hear how she can help him.
26Chapters
It's amazing how someone important to the school can die, and the whole school is still expected to go on like nothing. Also amazing, is how a family member can viscously be attacked by a werewolf, and the siblings of that person still be obligated to take exams with the rest of the school. Apparently, the world doesn't stop, because bad things happen. The world could've carried on as normal, but Hogwarts should've taken even a single day to recover from everything. It should have taken more than just a sombre speech at breakfast for them to return to their normal prefect duties and their examination obligations.
She, for one, who hasn't heard back from Lefa, needed today to find all of her answers. Harry, who lost someone very important to him, also needed the time to process his death. Hagrid as well, who wouldn't stop sniffling all throughout breakfast, should've been awarded the time to mourn his hero. Ron too, who's nowhere near over being worried about his brother, should be with his family. Nearly everyone at Hogwarts, especially those who met and were hurt by the Death Eaters, shouldn't have to proceed with life just like that, and yet they are. Who knows if they're truly concentrating on writing their exams or if they're struggling. Even she had to revise her answers three times and still, she was the first to leave their year's exam room - she's not sure if her mark will be good or not.
Nothing can be done about it now, though. Instead, knowing that McGonagall is occupied, she's very much hoping that Dumbledore's office password hasn't changed since the last time that she was there. It's that if she doesn't use this quiet time to try as much as she can to get her answers, she might not get the time again. Harry attached himself to her all of last night, never really allowing her a moment to herself, and so she didn't get any time to go to the kitchen and call out for Lefa. When Harry and Ron finally let her go and she was forced to go to bed, she told herself to at least wait to speak with Malfoy, but Malfoy didn't show up for his exam today. It's why she's now climbing up the stairs to the headmaster's office with only one intention in mind. Entering it, she looks around, just to be sure that no one else is in here with her.
'You again?' a condescending voice asks.
Knowing exactly who it is speaking that way, she first heads over to the shelf holding the book with the information that she needs and then only spares the portraits a look. It is then that she notices the new addition next to the previous headmaster's portrait.
'Hgnk,' she suddenly hiccups out in light exclamation at seeing Dumbledore's sleeping image.
Ugh! She's so, so, so stupid! How could she not remember something so obvious? Back in her first year, when she talking portraits, ghosts and many other magical things intrigued her, she researched how and why paintings became animated. But she's so stupid! Why did it never occur to her that Dumbledore's portrait would come to life?
Now that she's seen it, though, she smiles to herself, she only has to wait a few days before Dumbledore's awake and she can ask him what happened. That's if Professor Snape doesn't come back.
26Chapters
Since she couldn't wait for this day to have arrived, she doesn't do much to be tentative in entering the office. At last she can speak to the now animated and smiling Dumbledore.
'Good morning, Miss Granger,' he welcomes her.
Oddly, hearing his voice and seeing his smile, makes her want to cry. It feels a little unreal just now; she can't believe that he really died. Dumbledore, dead. That's such an odd thing to even thing, and yet, there he is, recognising her and speaking to her from a frame, not his usual chair.
'Good morning, Professor,' she quietly greets in return, still a little hard to believe that he's dead.
'I take it that you have no exams this morning?'
Oh, he sounds just like himself; so friendly and interested. She can't believe that he died. People like him really do die.
'I actually came to ask you something,' she presents, clearing her throat right after.
Appearing to peer at her over his glasses, he questions, 'You didn't get what you were looking for previously?'
Those sneaks, her eyes dart at the portraits from the left and then to the right, she suspected that they would report her for flipping through the Hogwarts teacher's personal information book.
'I found it,' she answers in any case, 'but I wanted to know from you if he really did it.'
'Who did what, Miss Granger?' he asks.
'Professor Snape,' she tightly responds. 'Did he really do it?'
'Ah, Severus,' he tips his head back just a little back, to then curiously ask, 'Harry hasn't told you anything?'
To her, and she can't pinpoint why she feels this way, his question only tells her that he's avoiding to give her an answer. She won't allow him to do that, though, not today - she came for answers and she won't leave without them.
'Please tell me, Professor,' she insists on that particular point. 'I need to know.'
'And then what, Miss Granger?'
'I only want to know,' she repeats.
It's important to her that she knows. Not hearing about what happened from Professor Snape himself is the only thing that's kept her from erupting into different emotions so far. She made the promise to herself that for as long as she doesn't speak to him herself, she won't specifically believe that he evilly killed Dumbledore, however, since she hasn't been able to speak to him yet, Dumbledore will have to be her source of confirmation. He only narrows his eyes at her in the beginning, and she, thinking that it's not all that hard to tell her either yes or no, tries to get an answer from him again.
'Please, Professor Dumbledore, could you tell me?' she begs.
'Miss Granger,' he finally responds, 'between only the two of us, what precisely has Severus told you?'
'He's told me nothing,' she honestly answers, stepping closer to the portrait, hoping that will make any difference to him. 'Even that night in his room, he told me nothing. I don't know anything.'
Nodding, accepting, it seems, Dumbledore replies with, 'Then perhaps to know nothing is the wiser alternative. I cannot tell you anything either, I am afraid.'
She defiantly wonders why not, but out of her mouth comes, 'Is it because I stole your sweets?'
'It is because you were never meant to know,' he replies in the most even of tones. 'Your appearance in Severus' life happened most opportunely, and I failed to treat it as seriously as it was from the beginning. None of this would have made any impact on your life otherwise, Miss Granger. You would have gone on to live your life as though nothing happened.'
'It doesn't matter what would have been,' she tries to reason, beginning to wring her hands together. 'It's not that way now. He's...'
What should she say about him? That's just because he's very good with the dark arts and has that horrid Mark on his arm, it doesn't mean that he isn't gentle and sensitive or that he isn't actually caring?
'Miss Granger, please allow everything to be as it is,' Dumbledore gently advises like he sees what's going on inside her head. 'I can appreciate your mutual care for one another, that you would be willing to disregard what your dearest friend must have told you, to hear Severus' account of things, however, Severus must remain as he is. It is crucial that he does.'
There, her heart sparks, that's a flicker of something positive.
Since they began their conversation, he hasn't spoken in anger about Professor Snape. Even if Professor Snape fooled and betrayed him as Ron and Harry believe that he did, he's not acting like he was. Of the many things that could mean, she's choosing to believe that there's more to it than just a spell fired in anger and malice.
'Is it because you made him do it?' she asks rather boldly.
It may seem out of the blue to him, but he just gave himself away with his words, lighting some more hope inside of her. More than ever, she's convinced that there's more to the story than just what Harry saw.
'Why, Miss Granger,' he smiles at her as though to say that he's impressed with her reasoning, 'are you asking if I requested that Severus kill me?'
'No – I - It's! I don't know, Professor!' she scrambles to say. 'He once mentioned that you're responsible for a few things in his life, so I don't know, Professor.'
But did he or did he not ask that of the professor? Why must he be so difficult about something so simple?
'Then spare your vigour for Harry,' he calmly advises, inclining his head in a small nod. 'There's quite a task ahead for him, and I am counting on the three of you to finish what remains.'
There he goes again, redirecting and not answering anything. She wonders how Harry deals with this man when he wants answers? She's clever enough to derive telling answers from his responses, but why doesn't he just give her straight answers? He's even worse than Professor Snape! At least she's used to Professor Snape's way of answering her.
'Please, Professor,' she makes another try for a real answer, 'if you aren't angry with him then there's something else about him that you're not telling me.'
'Leave things be, Miss Granger.'
'Why?' she cries, her eyes pleading with him. 'Why can't you just tell me?'
At her question, one of the other headmasters scoffs, but she doesn't waste her time on looking for who did it. Her attention is only on Dumbledore. Only he can answer her.
'There are things in the world that will never be explained,' he evenly tells her. 'Understand that. Severus well understands what he has to do and why he has done the things that he has done up to now. Your intention to talk to him may be more of a hindrance than a help to him, Miss Granger. I truly do admire your will to salvage your friendship with him, but it cannot be. I am sorry.'
Is he really?
'I know where he lives,' she rebuts, meaning for him to understand that if he doesn't tell her anything, despite what he thinks is best for Professor Snape, she'll go and look for him herself.
'I have heard,' he tiredly says. 'However, I pray that you would listen to me on this, Hermione. It might be more of a burden for him to see you than not.'
He doesn't know that, also, 'You told me that last time as well, but you lied to me.'
'No,' he softly argues. 'I told you something that was true, meaning for you to interpret it precisely as you did. It was by no means a lie. Have you wondered why Severus has never shared anything with you? Consider it, please. You will understand then, that I have reason for believing what I do.'
No, he's – He only wants her to leave 'Severus' alone, her feelings tell her.
But he's made a point, her head counters.
So what should she do?
Her eyes spend a little more time only looking at him while she remains undecided. It's clear to her that he won't tell her any of what she wants to know, and she obviously can't stay here and keep arguing with a portrait, it's only that... Just...
'Miss Granger, please,' he says only, maybe asking her to understand him.
How odd that he would plead with her when he wouldn't listen to her pleas? She frowns at him for it, not necessarily angry with him, mostly just irritated that she couldn't get the answers that she needed from him. Except that he had nothing bad to say about Professor Snape, he hasn't been of much help to her really. She will take the clues that he gave her, though, and use those as her excuse to remain unemotional until she finally leaves school and can see him at his house.
26Chapters
The last of her exams went by, followed by the last of the term, then the last of the Leaving Feast, and just a while back, the last of her pretending to sleep on the train back home passed. Now, waiting for Ron to gather the last of his things from the train, she pulls Harry to the side.
'If you want, Ron and I could try and join the Order,' she offers, meaning it as well. 'Until you get to the Burrow and join yourself, Ron could speak to his parents and as soon as I get to the Burrow, we'll join together. We'll at least be able to tell you anything about you know...'
Professor Snape, that's who she can't mention, not if she doesn't want Harry to sporadically call him a killer.
'Yeah, okay,' Harry shrugs, not showing much commitment to the suggestion.
'Do you want me to ask my parents to drop you off?' she asks, just glad to switch the subject.
Harry shrugs again and pulls him into a hug as the alternative to not knowing what else to say or do to him.
26Chapters
As the knock on her door sounds, she looks at the open notebook in her lap and then only answers, 'Come in.'
This notebook has everything, she thinks as her mum begins to cross into the room. She won't push it out of sight, even though it has much of the personal struggles that she's been trying to work out. Her mum has never been one to snoop through her things.
'Hermione? You haven't really been the same since you returned from school. What's wrong?'
She waits for her mum to take a seat on the bed, to shrug her response and look at the open book that has all of her problems in it. Seeing her do that, her mother reaches for it and closes it for her, and she looks up at her mum, partly grateful that she knew to keep her eyes from wandering to the book here and there.
'Dad and I are worried about you. It's been more than a week, but you haven't mentioned anything about school,' her mum reminds her. 'You haven't said anything about Harry and Ronald either or spending some time with them later on the summer. I thought that you would be more excited about the wedding, but you haven't spoken about it again. You only spend your time in your room. What's going on?'
Looking at her mum, added onto her very caring tone of concern, she suddenly wants to cry, because since Dumbledore's death, no one asked her if she was fine.
'Oh, Mum,' she sniffs and then is unable to continue.
She doesn't want to start crying and then make her mum worry even more about her, but she'd like to talk to someone about a part of what she's feeling. She's mostly always been honest with her mum, telling her about the first boy who paid her attention, but how can she tell her about Professor Snape?
'It's not about the exams, is it?' her mum asks in concern. 'You were like this the weeks before your O. results came in. Aren't these levels a two-year course and the real exams next year?'
'It's not that, Mum,' she responds, but even those exams, she won't be able to take.
She can't believe that she's going to allow her education to pass her by on top of everything else. And taking all of that into consideration, how is she supposed to confide in her mum about it?
'Then what?' her mum prods. 'I don't like to see you like this.'
This time, her mum's touching concerning makes her crumble, not only because her mum only wants the best for her, but because the longer that she tries to hold it in while there's a willing ear to hear, she's bound to burst out crying.
'It's just not the same anymore, Mum,' she weakly admits as she looks down. 'Things have changed.'
Lifting her face by the chin, her mum gently wonders, 'Something or everything?'
It's just so much.
She has changed. She's heartbroken due to several things, the biggest being that she's stupidly expecting him to come and speak with her. Having his address, she would've already gone to see him, it's only that after a day in her own room with Dumbledore's warning on repeat in her mind, her cautionary side wouldn't let her make that move. Though she did look through the town's directory for a clear picture of where his house is, she hasn't been able to bring herself to do more than that, even as more days passed.
'Does it involve a boy?'
'I would rather not talk about it with anyone else, Mum,' she confesses. 'I only wish that I could talk to him.'
'Did he hurt you?'
Shaking her head, she says, 'He did something that I don't understand. I want to believe that he didn't, but Harry says that he did. Harry would never lie to me about that, but Mum, I only want him to talk to me and make me understand why he did.'
Her mum looks at her for a long minute and then seemingly coming to a conclusion, she takes on an understanding expression to ask, 'Do you have strong feelings for this boy?'
A short snort escapes her as she imagines Professor Snape hearing about himself being referred to as a boy.
'He's a lot older than Viktor, Mum,' she corrects. 'He's not a boy at all.'
But yes, she does have strong feelings for him.
'Hmm,' her mum looks to be considering something. 'That teacher that you came here with, he seemed to like you. Your dad thought so as well. Is it him?'
How can her parents have seen that he seemed to like her? Harry has said it countless times to her, but it was never obvious to her that he liked her. Different with her, yes, but she was never really sure that he liked her liked her.
'I can't imagine how it could be anyone else,' her mum reasons. 'Unless he is one of Ronald's older brothers.'
'It's not Ronald's brother,' she whispers, immediately hiding her face afterwards.
It's that she doesn't want to see her mum's resulting stunned expression. Disappointing her parents is something that she never wanted to do, and though she never meant to do this, she can't go back and change what happened.
'He's your teacher, Hermione!'
There's no reproach in her voice at least, but the fact that her mum is pointing it out to her like it's not an obvious thing, makes it very clear what she thinks about it. Against her will, she looks back up at her mum, needing her honesty to shine in her eyes to her mum when she explains herself.
'I didn't do it on purpose, Mum, you have to believe me. He doesn't even like students very much.'
To that, her mum shakes her head, saying, 'Your dad and I have always tried to be fair with you. I always thought that we taught you what you ought to know, but now I wonder if we didn't do enough.'
Though she appreciates that her mum hasn't raised her voice, she might as well have done it. Hearing her talk like that is just as cutting to her as a raised voice would have done.
'Mum, I'm sorry,' she pleads.
She's sorry that she's disappointing her mum like this, not for liking her teacher. Of course, she never imagined that her life would turn out like this, yet it did and that is what it is; nothing can be done about it now.
'Hermione,' her mum gently calls as she touches her arm, 'you are of old enough as a witch. I'm sure that you can have a sexual relationship, drink alcohol, get married and find employment in the magical world, but having the legal right to do something does not mean that you should do it.'
'I know, Mum.'
'I know you know, but you give me this news of your teacher and Hermione, what am I supposed to think? You spend more time there at school than you do here, and I want to trust that you understand the virtue in waiting, but your teacher is an older man. You are mature and responsible and I'm sure that you could moderate yourself in whatever you choose to do, but I cannot say the same for this man. I don't know what sort of influence he may have on you.'
'He hasn't done anything to make me like him,' she tells her mum with as much conviction as she feels. 'I trust him.'
'But isn't he the reason that you haven't been the same since you returned?' her mum challenges, but when she opens her mouth to say that it's not about that, her mum holds up her hand to stop her. 'Listen, Hermione, whatever the situation is with him, I only need you to know that being an adult is about having responsibility and a vision and then following through with those things. It's also about taking accountability for things that you don't want to, at the times that you wouldn't want to. It's not only about having the freedom to make whatever choices you want and when you want to, but also about weighing the consequences of those choices and actions, to see how they will affect you now and later on. However, there will be things that happen outside of what you plan and even then, you must do what is best for the long run. Hm? I believe that you didn't want to like your teacher,' her mum tries to show her a smile here. 'It was always Ronald who you liked. I never thought that you would stop liking him.'
'I did,' she replies. 'I didn't even realise it until – Well never mind when, really.'
'Hm,' her mum absently agrees, looking at the air. 'I will have to talk to your dad about this... But, you didn't have a relationship with him during school, did you?'
'Mum!' she half scolds, horrified that her mum would think that of her. 'No. I swear it. I've never even kissed his cheek!'
She's only done a lot of other things, like held his hand, hugged him, rubbed thighs with him and tried to kiss his lips, but no, she's never kissed his cheek – never that.
'All right,' sombrely comes from her mother, which is neither good nor bad in her books, only an in-between.
26Chapters
She didn't get tired of waiting for the call to come from her parents, it's just that while she waited, loudly anticipating what sort of responses would come from her parents, she forced herself to put everything into place. Furiously fast, she made a list of all the things that she needed to do and by when they had to be done, and as soon as she finished with that, she outlined her first and second options for each. She's done it well, which why here she is, brave and standing in front of her parents.
'Mum, Dad, I have something else to tell you,' she announces after a steadying breath.
Normally, she only gives her parents a summary of what happened while she was at school, never really getting into the darker depths of it all, though this time around, she ought to be fair to them. After all, they too will be affected.
'I haven't told him yet, Hermione,' her mum lets her know.
Her dad in the seat next to her mum's makes a puzzled face, first looking at her and then at her mum to ask, 'Told me what?'
'Later tonight,' her mum softly promises, sealing it with a gentle touch on his wrist.
'What is it about?' her dad asks again, his curiosity apparently pushing him to do so.
'I will tell you later tonight,' her mum maintains. 'Let's her what she has to say. Hmm? Go on, Hermione, tell us.'
'Right,' she nods, just then moving to join them at the study table. 'So I told you that our headmaster was killed, but I didn't tell you why.'
Why, she doesn't know with certainty either, although it wouldn't take a brilliant person to conclude that the Dark Lord has one or two things to do with it. All in all, she only hopes that they will see her point about leaving Britain for their own safety, otherwise, she'll have to force them by modifying their memories.
26Chapters
Ginny and Ron all stand up at attention with her as soon as the door opens. She doesn't know about them, but all she wants to do is push past through the people exiting and squeeze through the door to get inside. If the others will only wait for Fred and George to come out and deliver the verdict of whether or not she and Ron can join the Order while Harry is still to come here, she won't. She rather takes the chance presented when two lesser-known members leave and she rushes into the room, her eyes immediately bouncing everywhere, finally landing on Lupin, who unlike everyone else, is standing, not leaving.
'Looking for something, Hermione?' he asks her, and because he smiles, she smiles back at him, shaking her head, which leads him to say, 'All right then,' and simply leave then.
With a heavy throat, she stays, discouraged from looking around anymore and feeling that she should sit before anything else. For three days, she's waited for this meeting. Since she arrived here, she's been waiting for this meeting just so she could finally meet him, but now he's gone just like that? She looks up, her throat still feeling heavy, hoping that she missed his black robes somehow, but only the four Weasleys are with her in the room, walking over to her even.
'You'll never guess what, Hermione,' George says to her as Fred slides into the chair next to her, saying, 'Your Snape's going to be Headmaster of Hogwarts.'
It's like a bludger hits her in the chest, taking her completely by surprise. His name mentioned so lightly and casually is the reason, especially when he was who she was chasing to find. If someone knew just how much she's longing to speak, only that, with him, they wouldn't say his name just like that around her.
'Can't believe it, can you?' George remarks. 'Told us himself, he did. Told us to keep it a secret within the Order, of course, but he's taking that job.'
Fred leans back in his chair and then, 'Doesn't it make you want to go back to Hogwarts, Georgie? He'd love our pranks!'
George laughs, agreeing with a loud and clasping handshake with his brother around her the one side of her body. The truth is that's not really her concern for now. When she has the time later, she'll think about all of that and how it could have something to do with Dumbledore, but as for now, she needs to confirm where he went – then maybe she can go after him.
'He wasn't in here when I came,' she directs to Fred.
'He flooed, didn't he?' Fred casually responds. 'Couldn't be bothered to stay for lunch no matter how much Mum insisted.'
'Wouldn't even confirm if he'd make it to the wedding,' George agrees with a nod. 'He only agreed that you and Ronnie couldn't be accepted into the Order.'
'Mum was supposed to tell them that,' Fred reprimands his brother, though his voice lacks the sincerity meant to deliver it; he sounds more to be making a joke than saying something serious.
Well, she for one, isn't upset about the Order rejection. She is angry, though, that he couldn't have bothered to stay and even see her. He knew that she was here and still left? Even just to see her face, he couldn't stay? Does he know that only once before, that one time at with Slughorn and brewing, she felt like this? So desperately in need of answers from him, but not being able to talk to him?
Gosh, she can't believe him!
After making her confess her true feelings about him, he just disappears from school and then blocks her from joining the group that he is a part of? Why would he do that? And to think that she's silently been waiting for him to find her! Oh, wow, she's embarrassed of herself for putting emotional effort into waiting for him... Entertaining fantasies of how he would show up and they would talk...
Stupid, stupid, stupid Hermione Jean!
Spurred on by her anger, she suddenly gets up, ignoring all of their questioning calls as she rushes from the room in search of a smaller one to shut herself in.
26Chapters
Now she understands what happened, he led her here.
She never would have left the tent behind, left the festivities behind, to come out here in the field, away from the bright lighting and the merry people to a man dressed his usual black, leaning against a silver post, if he didn't purposely set a trail to lead her here to him.
She's dazed, to begin with, that after all of this time, just when she promised herself that today would be the day that she wouldn't think about him at all, he would carry out a series of subtle and magical instances that would lead her away from the merriment of everyone to him, who is saying nothing but looking at her. Then she's overcome with feeling at seeing him, looking at him illuminated by his own form of light, coming not from his wand but a source that she cannot tell. And lastly, as he rights himself from leaning, she just wishes that he would say something to her instead of being silent.
He is too much, she decides on the spot. Why would he lure her away from people, bring her right next to the tent where they are, only to say nothing?
'Aren't you going to say anything?' she whispers, nearly convinced that he doesn't hear her since she barely hears herself.
'You look lovely,' he answers her right away, the sound of his voice after not hearing it for so long, reaching her with such richness that she gasps without thinking to.
She also gasps in surprise, wholly taken aback by how he would say something like that to her without falter or prompting.
'That's not –' she begins and then stumbles along with her faltering heart. A moment later, as it recovers, her face flushes in its stead, infecting her skin to heat up all over. 'Oh, uh, thank you,' she humbly accepts the compliment. 'My mum picked it out for me. She said that it was fitting for a wedding.'
He shocks her again, her heart precisely, making it flutter this time when shows her a smile. One of those that he gives her when she's in the middle of talking and talking, and he seems to find her funny during that.
But she loves it.
And gosh, she's missed him.
It's been a month, three weeks and two days since she last saw him at Hogwarts. All of that time, she's wanted to see him, but kept herself away, partly due to Dumbledore's warning. But now, there he is, and she has missed him and...
'I didn't mean about my dress,' she says. 'You're only standing there and I - Can't you say anything?'
As if to rectify the problem of him only 'standing there,' he takes a tentative step forwards, but still shakes his head to tell her that he won't be saying anything to her.
'Then should I go?' she whimpers.
Again, he shakes his head and rather beckons for her to go to him. It may be stupid, but she does it, carefully walking to him without thinking about it twice. Not even three steps on, only two steps from him, she hears someone call for her and recognising Ron's voice, she stills. Her eyes remain on him, though, only, he says nothing to her. Not to keep quiet, not to keep coming, and because of that, when Ron calls for her again, she looks behind her, wanting to see how far away he might be, to measure just how much time she might have with Professor Snape before Ron finds her. Ron's not that close, she realises, so she turns back, ready to say something else to him only to meet darkness.
'Ugh!' she cries in frustration.
He's gone! All thanks to Ronald!
In the same frustration that she cried out with, she marches back the way that she came to meet with Ron.
'What?' she heavily demands on they are face to face.
'I couldn't find you,' is his sheepish reply, his goofy smile extremely irritating to her.
Is he serious? He disturbed her for that?
'I don't have to be with you every second, Ronald!' she snaps, wishing that she could push him down and onto his bum for his neediness.
How many more times does he need her to tell him that them being something other than friends isn't the right thing yet? Wasn't once enough for him? He seemed to have taken it fine at Hogwarts, but suddenly at the wedding, he feels that he has to be close to her?
'Yeah, well, Harry's off with Ginny somewhere,' he explains, 'and I don't have anyone to hang out with, do I? I actually thought you'd be off with Krum!'
Ugh! For that, she missed her meeting with him? She swears, Ronald is the biggest prat there ever was in the world!
'Let's just go,' she tells him as she takes a long step past him.
Now when will she ever see him again?
26Chapters
Her nerves have stopped jumping all over the place since they escaped the chaos and panic at the wedding, but unlike Harry and Ron who were apparently able to easily shut themselves in their rooms almost immediately after arriving, she can't do the same. They will be safe here, she knows, and yet there's a hunch in her head telling her to remain right here in the kitchen and keep guard. Though only the Order members know this place's location, something is urging her to stay put and wait, that something will happen and if she's locked away in her room and asleep when it happens, she'll miss it completely. It's intuition, she supposes with a contemplating sigh, flipping to the next page of her wizard tales book.
Intuition is like a thin branch of divination, something that can't be proved, and so naturally, she doesn't like to rely on it, and yet here she is, waiting like she's being urged to. When the front door begins to open just then, making a quiet sound maybe meant to stealthy, her head jerks up from her book, her eyes widening as she springs onto her feet without properly considering how loud she may be doing so. Only when firmly planted on her feet, does she recognise the fear within her, but not willing to dwell on something that won't serve her any good, she quickly charms herself to be appear hidden and then begins her slow and careful creeping out of the kitchen, to see who it is, her wand at the ready and her small book clutched in her other hand. It's better not to leave clues of herself behind.
Seven short steps lead her into the hallway where black robes appear to her eyes before she's fully able to take a look at his face. Only seeing those robes, her mind goes blank, losing itself just like that, making her drop the charm for him to see her before him. As he uncharacteristically pulls in a loud breath of surprise at seeing her, her heart begins to race in a way that she never thought was possible.
'Professor?' she lets out, her call strangled by her sudden breathlessness.
'Yes,' he simply answers, just so plain and with no hesitance.
And then, rendering her still in every way, he takes one step forwards. It's a light, testing step, but still a step that she didn't expect from him, that she begins to panic, thinking if she didn't make a mistake in revealing herself before she could confirm his identity first.
Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.
What has she done?
If her heart was racing before, it's beating at the speed of flight now, what with him staring directly into her eyes while he takes another testing step towards her. It's like he's hesitant to reach her, maybe wondering if he isn't walking into her trap, but who's to assure her that he isn't intruder disguised as him.
'Who are you?' she decides to shoot at him, simultaneously drawing her wand up to point at him.
To magic, Muggle luck and whatever else creature Luna believes is a bringer of good things, she hopes that she sounded braver than she feels, because she doesn't at all feel brave – not in the face of a possible-impersonator Snape, who's likely to overpower her in a moment's move.
'Severus Snape,' he answers as simply as he did his 'Yes,' and then takes another step to her.
But gosh, it sounds just like him.
She wants to believe him so badly.
And he looks just as he did at the wedding and all those times in his office, focused on her and present with her. How is she supposed to deny that it's him when she so badly wants it to be the real him? When everything to do with him from before doesn't even matter to her anymore just because she sees him?
'Are you really?' she weakly asks, even knowing that an impostor is bound to lie to her.
He first only keeps his eyes on her, silently so, and then when she opens her mouth to repeat her question to him, he calmly delivers, 'I am not an impostor, Miss.'
Then he takes a third step, then his fourth and after his fifth, which brings him close enough to her, he stops moving altogether as if worried to go any further than that. Would that be because she still has her wand pointed at him? She wonders about this for a second, and the next, makes the hasty decision to lower it for his sake. It might very well be the stupidest thing that she has done so far, although considering that how willing she had been to follow him into the dark field at the Burrow, it might just not be.
'Aren't you going to say anything then?' she asks in a whisper.
'You look lovely,' he replies.
Similar to earlier tonight, the cadence of his voice is a soothing thing of beauty that brings wonderful warmth all over her body.
Oh.
'Uh…' she begins, looking down at herself while trying to fight a flattered smile from showing on her face. 'Aren't you going to say anything else?'
'What do you want me to say?' he wants to know, then takes two more steps.
'Anything,' she shrugs. 'What are you doing here? Did you want to see me or are you looking for something?'
She hopes and hopes even more that he wanted to see her. Maybe that he wanted to look at her once more and in a better light, dressed in her pretty dress and looking lovely as he said – she hopes that as well.
'I wondered if you would be here,' he admits, but does not move again.
It's good enough for her, she decides. She won't ask him why he wondered if she was here or not, because now that he's brought himself to her, she has the chance to say all that she's been wanting to say to him.
'I waited for you,' she tells him, just now realising that she's calmed down. 'Dumbledore said not to look for you, so I kept waiting for you. I have to know some things, please.'
Like he understands her perfectly, he nods to ask, 'Potter told you?' to which she responds with a small nod.
'Did you really do it?' she asks anyway, because hearing it from him is what she wants.
'You don't believe him?' he questions with a lifted – probably curious – eyebrow.
'I'm asking you.'
He must know that about her already. How many times now has she looked for him to tell her something from his own mouth? Really, he can be so himself, at times.
'I did,' he delivers without flinching or hesitance, and as much as she knew it to be true, it still makes her stomach drop to hear him say it.
She didn't know that it would feel like this exactly – like the world just exploded in front of her eyes.
'Why?' she begs in a small cry. 'Dumbledore's portrait wouldn't tell me, but please tell me.'
'Whatever you may have been led to believe,' he says, frowning. 'I am not heartless.'
'No one's told me anything,' she rushes to explain, going the extra step of commanding her feet to remove the distance between, so that her eyes can be that much closer to his. 'Harry only said that you did it, nothing else. Please just tell me. I've been going over it a lot and I know there must be a reason why. Dumbledore told you to do it, didn't he? I asked him about it. I remembered how he asked you to forgive him before he died that day – I think he knew that he was going to die and then you didn't ask him why he thought he was going to die, so I thought – Also, Dumbledore wasn't angry with you when I asked him about you. He only didn't want me to find you. He said that you had to be like that and then I remembered how you said that Dumbledore is responsible for many things in your life and –'
She thinks that they both know exactly what happened. That's what she wanted to say, only, his gaze turns deeper just then, burning through to her core and effectively clearing the words from her mouth. Cut off that way, left with a mouth slightly open too, he moves to her, sweeping her completely into him. His soft whisper of 'Oh, Miss,' or he's missed her breathed to her, leaves her no hope of resisting him. Not that she wants to resist him, because falling apart into him is much better. For all the time that she could never speak to him, for all the time that she dreamt of meeting him and just because she's missed him, she locks herself around him, not caring where her arms wind around or where her hands drop her wand and book to touch, so long as it's on him.
Whether or not he shares her feelings on why they are holding each other, he also demonstrates the same intensity, using one of his hands to push her closer. He does it as though her back has certain points that continually need to be kneaded in place to properly attach to him and she loves it, all of it. She loves feeling his chest rise against her with every savouring breath that he takes, and his hand changing places on her back every second, and the other one just sitting on her neck, she loves all of it. She really does. For how much she's longed to see him, she would be this way with him forever, it's only that she still needs to know why he did what he did, why she slowly pulls away from him in spite of her desire to remain in his arms.
'Tell me,' she answers his look of disapproval, only sure to keep her hands on him in case he wonders if she doesn't want his touch.
'Why do you insist?' he asks, in their closeness, dipping his face down for his nose to touch her forehead. 'Would it change your opinion of me?'
That's nice, she thinks, closing her eyes to the soft feel of him on her forehead. He really does like her then, doesn't he? Her opinion of him wouldn't matter if he didn't, she can at least gather that much with confidence now.
'I just want to know why,' she says, not daring to move and disrupt him on her.
'I did use that curse on Albus as you were told,' he admits and as he does, one of his hands travels into hers, fitting his fingers in the spaces of her hand and grasps firmly – nearly desperately, actually. 'For once, Potter did not lie.'
'Why?' she whispers back, that way preserving the tight intimacy between them. 'Why did you use it?'
An aching groan leaves him in tune with him squeezing their hands, followed by, 'Only be certain that there was no malice in my heart with that curse. More than that, I cannot tell you. I leave it up to you, to believe only that.'
But that's not what she wanted to hear. She remains quiet, however, because he presses himself deeper into her as if to blend with her, causing her inside to flutter.
'Hm?' he prods with a finger's gentle stroke to the back of her hand, followed by the tiny movement of his nose on her.
'I should believe you?' she asks at last.
She's asking, because her mind is starting to fog. She's a stupid, stupid school girl when it comes to him, always ready to hear his side of things and believe them, always eager to please him and have him regard her well, and she just... Maybe that's why she's giving in now...
'I would very much appreciate that,' his answer comes, though it comes at the expense of him detaching from her forehead and taking a small step back from her.
At least he hasn't released her hand from his tight hold.
And at least now she can look at him and see a sad smile touch his face.
'Are you all right?' she asks.
Since they've settled that he won't give her a reason for what he did, she might as well move on to something else. Something that's been worrying her since she learnt about Horcruxes.
'They say that the killing curse tears the soul apart,' she continues to explain to him. 'Are you – Do you feel any different? Like there's a part of you that's missing? Is your soul...?
Damaged or torn apart?
She hopes not, please.
'I'm fine,' he replies, barely smiling. 'Would you like to see?'
He moves back just a little more, easing his fingers away from hers so that they settle on his top button to loosen it, then the next one and then stopping there, lets out a short laugh.
'That's isn't funny! I was worried,' she scolds after realising that was making fun of her for believing that she'd be able to see his soul intact.
'I am fine,' he says, the gentleness of his tone reaching deep inside of her heart to quieten it. 'Are you satisfied with that?'
Because she's glad that he is, she nods, her eyes looking into his.
Because she doesn't know what else to say from here, she keeps quiet, still keeping their visual contact.
And because this is probably the last time that she will see him, she bites the inside of her mouth, shifting her gaze to his hair rather.
She's going to cry, she feels it.
'No, no,' he begins to discourage, just then sweeping her into another hug. 'You know that I cannot remain here.'
Yes, she knows, but knowing something doesn't make it less harder to accept. It's not fair that they don't have a definition of a relationship between them, which is why she can never keep herself from wanting to cry when she believes that they'll never see each other again.
'You are all right, Miss,' he tries to assure her, holding her even closer to him, 'and I will see you again.'
It's unlikely that they will see each other again. He doesn't know it, but she does and because she does, she nods, knowing not say anything about her quest to him.
'You will need to say the words,' he warmly invites. 'I have to know that you've understood me.'
'You will see me again,' the whisper leaves her as she tries to push her tears back.
The full weight of Dumbledore's words is hitting her now like it never did, choosing a horrid time to fall on her. It could have waited for when she wasn't in his arms and unable to properly say goodbye to him without him getting suspicious. Just everything about it is wrong - for one, she can't tell him that she knows about him being the headmaster, and for another, he won't tell her anything either. Evidently, like Dumbledore said to her, they were always meant to go their separate ways, never stay together. While she does trust him, she (always) has a secret responsibility with Harry and Ron and if his unwillingness to share anything with her is anything important to consider, then she can assume that he always has a duty (to carry out) that existed long before her.
She must accept the reality of things, hard to do so or not, but that doesn't mean that she won't cry about it. Suddenly, though, as if sensing that she's preparing herself to cry, he pulls back from her, only to hold her face in his hands and look into her eyes as though trying to get into her soul through them.
'I will see you again,' he promises, his thumb lightly brushing her cheek.
Her quiet, accepting, 'Okay,' is apparently all that he waited for, to separate away from her and promptly begin walking backwards to the door.
Like that, she's reminded of his preference to never prolong their separation or either one of them's departure and so quietly watches him go, doing her absolute best not to do anything that will make him stride back to her and prolong their goodbye. Once he disappears through the door, a soft shutting sound follow after, she bites her lip to see herself through the emotion bubbling within. She also takes a weak step backwards, not really wanting to leave yet (in case he changes his mind and comes back), but not wanting to remain here either, where everything about their separation is too vivid.
The next step that she takes has her hitting something, making her nearly stumble back and out of sheer panic, she catches herself fast enough to spin around, already preparing an explanation to give. By the time that she's fully turned, a scowling Kreacher meets her eyes and realising that she doesn't need to give him an explanation, she heaves out a relieved sound. As relieved as she is that it's not one of her friends, though, Kreacher shaking his head in disapproval is enough of an indicator that she needs to request a favour of him.
'Kreacher, you can't...' she starts, only to reconsider what she was going to say and rather say, 'Please don't say anything.'
'Kreacher has a master,' he grouchily replies, his scowl deepening as he looks up at her.
Honestly, she understands that she isn't the boss of him and he isn't obligated to offer her any loyalty or keep her secrets, but if he would just this once help her.
'I know,' she nods, using the smallest and most innocent voice that she can muster. 'You do have a master, but please, Kreacher, don't say anything to anyone.'
He darkly mumbles a long string of words that she doesn't properly catch, a clear protest of what he's being asked to do, but when he gives her one last look, still mumbling to himself and then turns for kitchen, she gathers that to be a promise from him. It's one made begrudgingly, but she appreciates it so very much.