Hermione poured over volumes of information on werewolves and had even asked Saiyaka for an article on the Osaka werewolf case. She'd write her father's damn essay alright, but she would play on her own terms. Werewolves were people, thinking, feeling, souled beings. She couldn't believe he asked them to write on how to kill a werewolf. What the hell was he playing at.
Hermione had much more than her three notes per paragraph minimum and organized her notes into three distinct piles, including direct quotations. She then opened the smoking gun. A July 1993 article of Potions Periodicals where she could find the article on the finally passed Wolfbane potion.
Wolfsbane potion…Shit! She clapped a hand to her forehead. The potion her father dropped off to Lupin! She recalled the purple steam rising from the goblet, the exact colour of wolfsbane flowers. Hermione brought out her lunar calendar to look up today's date. It was the full moon. Lupin was a…there was no smoking gun, she'd need a pattern, but the evidence did seem overwhelming.
If her father knew a werewolf that made it so much worse. He could put a face to…Hermione didn't want to believe it. But she had no choice. He raised her. How could he be so cruel?
Hermione shook her head, trying to put it from her mind before writing her essay. It didn't work, so instead she let the wave of righteous anger guide her quill.
Silver poisoning, weapons or spells using items fashioned from lunar material, and monkshood/wolfsbane poisoning have been tried and true methods used to kill victims of lycanthropy. Finally, a better alternative from one of the most reliable killers of werewolves has been approved by the British and Irish ethical medical board Care And Treatment (CAT) this July (1993). The CAT approved treatment is a wolfsbane potion. Healers and potioneers are cautioned that the development of this is very delicate, and if done improperly, the recent mixture can kill the patient. However, this self-righteous, insufferable, little know-it-all posits that wide and regulated use of the Wolfsbane potion is a better alternative than instructing wizards in the extermination of their kindred fellows.
Hermione finished her paragraph when everything went black.
"Hi, Hermione!" a peppy voice sang from behind her.
"L-Luna!" Hermione sputtered turning back to see her shining silver eyes.
"It's been published!" Luna sang, leaping up on the table beside her work and brandishing the open copy of the Quibbler. "Skylar, Deirdre, O'Malley and I also circulated your article on the front page of the Herald!"
"That-That's-erm-great, Luna," Hermione said forcing a smile.
"Then why do you seem so unhappy?" Luna knit her eyebrows.
"It's nothing," she shrugged. "Just-" Don't be a burden. "Writing."
"Ooh," she said dreamily. "Is it another take down for the Herald? I do so love your take-downs."
"Hardly," Hermione sighed. "Daddy dearest wants a two-roll essay on how to identify and kill werewolves. I don't know what Lupin was thinking letting him take his class. He went completely mad!"
Luna stared off pensively for a moment before speaking. "How odd. He was fine when he taught us. I mean, he was still Snape, but he wasn't any worse than usual. Actually, he seemed to be in a better mood then usual. Only insulted me and Ginny once the whole class."
So it was my fault. "Glad he was tolerable for you lot. It wasn't just my class I landed with this stupid assignment. I got Harry, Ron and Neville caught up in it too."
"You did?" Luna laughed. "How do you reckon?"
"We might have gotten into a fight," she sighed. "W-we've been fighting a lot recently. I should have known it would all end up in a big blow-up. I think I just need to re-learn to keep my bloody mouth shut around him."
"Bad?"
"Horrendous," she sighed. "I'll probably apolo-"
"Don't you dare," Luna pulled Hermione to her side and ran her fingers through her hair. "You, Hermione Snape, are done apologising for the actions of others."
"But-"
"Shh," she said, continuing to soothe Hermione's hair.
"Why are you always so nice to me?" Hermione asked.
"Well," Luna mused. "We're friends, aren't we?"
Hermione didn't show up to the Great Hall for breakfast that Saturday, nor did she show up for their meeting at all that morning. Severus eyed his watch impatiently. She was now twenty minutes late, that was a first for her. Though given the events of the previous afternoon, he shouldn't have been surprised. And given the copies of Hogwarts Herald circulating in the school, he assumed Hermione had multiple reasons for lying low.
He had enough to contend with without Hermione accusing Draco Malfoy of attempting to get rid of Hagrid. All the students knew 'Student A' was Potter and 'Student B' was Malfoy. Sides were being picked and Malfoy was on the losing one, at least for numbers. He wondered if Hermione thought a second between her interviews and research that this was an excersise in futility at best. He may have warned Malfoy to stay away from her, but if he suspected this was her doing, he could find ways to make life difficult for her that Severus couldn't intervene.
It seemed the older she got the harder it was to manage her behaviour. Giving her elders cheek, writing and publishing scathing take-downs of her peers, and failing to show up for a scheduled visit. If she was smart, her avoiding him would be confined to Gryffindor Tower, that he couldn't invade. However, he was willing to bet she was also hiding from her housemates. They were less than happy about how he conducted the class, and clarity of hindsight told him that Hermione might suffer more than the natural consquences of her actions.
Perhaps something you should have thought about during class, eh? He thought bitterly to himself while checking his watch again. Stupid piece of shit.
Hermione showed up to see him while angry with him before. It was a half hour now, and he started to worry. What if she were sick or injured? Worse? The girl had a knack for finding trouble and an unhealthy little martyr complex made her dive in when she spied others in trouble. Especially if it were Potter or Weasley involved. He'd check the hospital, then the library. If he found her unharmed, they would discuss the aneurysm she would eventually give him if her behaviour didn't change.
"I'm going to-I can't believe that girl!" he groaned. "You'll notify me if she comes here, yes?"
"Of course, Severus," Pomfrey nodded. "Though I will tell you that she's thirteen and children that age blow off authority figures all the time."
"Not my child," he said. "She does, however, fall victim to other students' malice, Potter's endless troubles and even her own body. If anything, I should have been worried sooner."
"I'll notify you if she comes by," Pomfrey sighed.
"Thank you," he nodded before heading down the corridor to the library.
Hermione was fine. He told himself this over and over again trying to expel the images of her bleeding out on the staircase, and her near encounter with the dementor from his mind. She was simply acting rashly, she was angry that he called her out for her behaviour and seeing what she could get away with. Perhaps it was wrong for him to assume that Hermione wouldn't engage in the same foolish behaviour as others her age.
At least, he wanted it to be that.
Oh, that girl is spending every afternoon helping me with inventory until she's forty! He thought as he found her in the library's basement with Luna Lovegood. Books and work were set aside, the girls sat on the table, Lovegood soothing Hermione's hair with a calm and patient expression.
"Why are you always so nice to me?" Hermione asked in a small voice that made Severus halt his advance.
"Well," she smiled. "We're friends aren't we?"
"Of course we are," Hermione pulled back, looking in the girl's eyes. "I-I just-erm-I-" she sighed. "I guess I don't want to burden you."
"You're not a burden," Lovegood pulled her back into a hug. "You're my best friend."
"I'm your...best friend?" she squeaked.
"Only forever," Lovegood promised.
The girls fell silent for a moment, and Severus felt more like an intruder in his daughter's life stumbling upon this than he ever did any of the times he intentionally pried. Yet, he couldn't look away. It reminded him too much of an interaction he and Lily had in this very room when they were thirteen.
"She's all the way back home and she still gets to me," Lily sighed, reading and re-reading her sister's letter.
"Bitch still blaming you for your mother's illness?" he asked soothing her hair.
"'Mum wouldn't be in the Looney-Bin if you didn't break her concept of reality' as if she didn't have Bipolar before we were born! It's a mood disorder, she's not delusional-at least not usually..." Lily looked up at him and tears sprang to her green eyes. "Why does Tuney keep doing this to me?!"
"Because Petunia's a bloody bitch?" Severus offered.
"She's still my sister, Sev," Lily tried to glare through her tears.
"I don't know," he sighed hugging her too him."I guess she's just looking for something to blame. Muggles are horrible for it, Lily. My father blames every failure he's ever had-and the bastard's got more than I can count-on me or Mum. I imagine it's easier for them to process things...damn muggles."
"It's not because they're muggles, Severus Tobias Snape (Severus flinched at the reminder of his father's name)," Lily's glare became more convincing. "My father doesn't do that. Yet you seem rather keen on blaming everything on muggles."
"Sorry," he shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I just let him get under my skin. He's just-erm-I'll just say I'll not be having children in case I turn out to be like him."
"You could never," Lily said. "He's so angry and bitter and-okay, I'm looking for better adjectives as I say them, but I don't see you being that cruel. You seriously never want children."
Severus bit his lip. It was a concern, but he had images in his head since they were seven of the two as grown-ups tucking a little green-eyed redhead into bed, telling her stories, teaching her to walk. It was a stupid fantasy, especially with his cursed DNA, but with the right person-"Okay, fine. I guess I'd like a little girl. I can see it now, she'd be clever, and cheeky, sweet and she'd look just like her mum."
Lily cracked a beautiful smile. "Does this little girl whose mother you've told me nothing about have a name?"
"If you're prying for the name of a crush, you'll never get it," he teased. "And no, I've never considered a name for my hypothetical future daughter. You?"
"Oh, I want loads of kids!" Lily declared. "It'd be a crime to raise a child without a sibling...I just hope mine get along. Not like-" she shook her head and leaned her head against his chest. "Elizabeth."
"Pretty sure my name's 'Severus', Lil," he smiled stroking her hair again.
"If I have a daughter I want to name her Elizabeth," Lily explained. "Nobody messes with a girl named Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth, eh?"
"It's mine," she pouted. "You can't have it."
"I shall let the queen know," he chuckled.
"Sev?" she said in a small broken voice.
"Yes?"
"Thank you," she sniffed. "For listening to me. I know your family life is a mess and listening to me prattle on about mine-"
"That's what friends are for," he said. "And you're my best friend."
"Still?"
"Always."
"You're very noisy," Lovegood said after a silence.
Hermione lifted her head from her shoulder and looked at her. "But I haven't said anything?"
"No, silly," she laughed pointing at her forehead. "It's noisy up there. In your mind."
"I didn't know you were a legillimancer," Hermione said with forced levity.
"No," she shook her head. "I'm just fluent in Hermione."
"Can you teach Ron?"
"Not even if he bothered to learn," Lovegood smirked. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong? It'll make it less noisy up there."
"I-"Hermione sighed. "You know, I sometimes think my dad did find me in an alleyway. And I'm certain he regrets it."
Oh, no, my baby girl, I could never regret raising you, he thought, his heart sinking to his feet. He frequently told her that she was precious to him, loved. He knew he wasn't the ideal father either, but he wasn't-it was common for parents and their children to fight, he overheard enough students moaning about their own parents to know that. But Hermione's distress seemed much more profound.
"I don't think so," Lovegood moved Hermione's head into her lap and resumed stroking her hair.
"L-Luna!"
"I think Snape adores you. I just think he doesn't know what he's doing. Probably thinks he's protecting you."
"He called me a a self-righteous, insufferable, little know-it-all, Luna," Hermione said. "In front of the entire class. Violet Vane and Ivy MacDonald along with a few other Gryffindor girls keep hinting that they'll make me a cat again for their trouble."
I should have thought about that...
"Well," Lovegood mused. "You were kind of cute."
"L-Luna!" Hermione sputtered. "It doesn't matter anyway."
"It matters," Lovegood sighed. "And I can't believe Snape insulted you in front of the whole class. Bastard."
"Still my father, Luna," Hermione sighed. "But he's just-I-I-I don't know..."
"He hurt you," Lovegood shrugged. "I've been angry with my father for less."
"I was angry," Hermione wiped her eye. "I still am a bit, but mostly, I'm just-"
"Disappointed?"
"Broken."
Broken? He swallowed. Severus thought during the silence of Hermione's short but eventful life. Attacked by dementors, convinced she failed to prevent a suicide, abducted, tormented by her peers, lied to about her mother, nearly killed by the traps he helped set up through the trapdoor and nearly clubbed to death by a troll. And before that was a childhood of isolation and illness, he tried but he didn't imagine she had a solid foundation before the countless, crammed traumatic events. Just another cruel reminder that his temper had consequences. It was one insult, she's thirteen, everything's the end of the world. She's fine. I'm not in denial. She's fine.
"I should be used to this," Hermione sighed. "He's always been-he's just-I-I don't think it's just him. Remember that letter you read last year?"
"I-erm-apologised about that, right?"
"You did," Hermione sat up. "My dad, he-erm-h-he forged it. Sato was never real. The real story about my mother must be something so-"
"Hermione?" Potter appeared from behind a bookshelf, his expression changing when she turned to look at him. "Is this a bad time?"
"It-it's fine, Harry," Hermione forced a smile leaping to her feet. "D-did you need something?"
"Just to talk. You've been pretty scarce since last night," he approached the girls.
"Yeah," she looked at her feet. "Sorry. I just-it's-erm- complicated."
"No it's not." Lovegood piped up. "Ron and her father are jerks so you made yourself scarce."
"Thank you, Luna," Hermione sighed burying her face.
"I-erm-I shouldn't have said that, should I have?" Lovegood revealed she was capable of feeling awkward, staring at her feet. "Sorry."
"It's fine, Luna," Hermione sighed. "What is it, Harry?"
Potter looked over at Lovegood then back to Hermione.
"Right,"sighed Hermione with an eye roll. "Everyone has the luxury of secrets but Hermione."
"Sorry, Hermione," Potter said. "It's just private."
"Must be nice," Hermione sighed. "I'll see you around, Luna."
"See you, Hermione."
"You were right," Harry said. "Lupin told me last weekend. You've just been scarce between your classes and now disappearing. I heard about Snape insulting you in class, I don't blame you for making yourself scarce, but you're hiding from Ron too?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, I-I-erm-he's been kind of-well, he's Ron. I love you both, it's just-erm-he-erm-you know-Actually it's not important. Y-you wanted to talk about Sirius Black."
"That was before you started impersonating Quirrell," Harry stared at her.
"I'm fine," she shrugged. "Ron's just hard to deal with. He keeps blaming me for Crookshanks going after Scabbers. I just needed a minute without someone screaming at me. Everything's-I'm fine. You wanted to talk about Black."
"Well, Black and the potion," he explained. "What do you reckon it was?"
Hermione bit her lip. Harry thought her father was poisoning him. But she couldn't tell Harry what it was without outing Lupin as a werewolf. Let Harry think Dad's a murderer or out Lupin. I fucking love my choices!
"If you're accusing the man who raised me-"
"He loathes Lupin, Hermione!" Harry insisted. "I don't know why, Lupin won't tell me, but I can definitely see Snape wanting him out of the way. And you didn't see what he was like when you left. 'Do the words "stay the hell away from her" mean nothing to you?' I reckon he would have loved to kill him then and there."
"My father isn't a killer, Harry!" Hermione said coldly. "Lupin has a medical condition. I overheard Dumbledore tell Dad over the summer," she lied. "Did you want to discuss Black now or were there any other accusations you wanted to levy-"
"Hermione-"
"Can we please just not, Harry?" Hermione snapped.
"Fine," Harry sighed. "Anyway, I guess Lupin, my dad and Pettigrew were all very tight-knit. Best friends. And he betrayed them all. I didn't want you to be right. Lupin tried to avoid it when I told him what you said. He won't give me everything, but they were mates all through school. And Black murdered Pettigrew. There's more to the story, I know it. The expression on Lupin's face, the way Malfoy spoke...I'm certain of it, Hermione."
"What do you need?" Hermione straightened herself.
Harry breathed. "I know you've been busy. You're just so much better at this stuff than I am. Even if you could just tell me where to go to start getting information, that would be amazing. I need to know what they're all hiding from me. After all the secrets and lies you've been told your whole life, I know you understand. Ron reckons I shouldn't go digging for trouble but I just need to know. That's all."
She did. If there was a way to get the information on her origins, Hermione would have torn the world apart in search of it. Harry had this whole past he knew nothing of, and the idea of protecting him from doing something stupid by withholding information would never work. It was something her father would do, something he had done, and it felt like a blade to the heart every time. Hermione would never have the information she needed, but she could help Harry get his.
"Ron thinks you shouldn't go looking for trouble," Hermione laughed. "Ron?"
"I know," Harry smiled and shook his head. "If I wanted to dig stuff up, where do I start?"
"Public information in the library's archives," Hermione listed. "I found some useful articles, but the relationships aren't stated. I've already been through all their diciplinary files, and unless you want school escapades, they'll be useless. I can see if I can scrounge up the names of retired Aurors and Death Speakers-"
"Death Speakers?"
"They basically conduct magical autopsies. They're rarely used, but dead helpful the odd time the Ministry is willing to use them. A waste if you ask me. Anyway, I'll see if I can find some that don't mind giving details on a case that's gone cold. Don't hold your breath, but I can try."
"Thank you," Harry said. "We'll start tomorrow."
"I can be on it tonight," Hermione thought of potential leads, ready to dive into another investigation. She'd do this one correctly.
"You finished it," Severus blinked in disbelief at the two rolls of parchment in his daughter's arms.
He had expected it to be neglected given her moral objections. That and he expected none of the other students to actually do the assignment. He wondered if the catch would be some scathing report rather than her assignment. She had revived the interest she developed while trying to discredit the DADA teacher the previous year. Hermione's thirst might not have been sated by her transparent article that he had since learned was published not only in her paper, but the Quibbler as well. He wondered if he should tell her that it would hurt her cause more than help. Well, she was about to learn the hard way, once letters to Hagrid started pouring in.
"Yes, sir, I know Professor Lupin spoke to you, but I figured I wouldn't be getting out of it," she shrugged.
"Indeed," he said. "Especially with the vanishing act you pulled Saturday."
"Sorry, sir," she wrung her hands. "I-erm-I-I guess I overslept. Classes have been leaving me with roughly three hours a night."
"I suppose that explains why you've been so testy as of late," he sighed. "If only someone told you how hard it would be, like a parent of some sort."
"How's that stand-up career coming, Dad?" Hermione crossed her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow.
"About as well as your social life if you keep that up, Hermione Elizabeth," he mimicked her tone.
"I deserved that," she sighed.
Severus examined his weary daughter and thought about the conversation he'd overheard. There was so much he needed to talk to her about that he was supposed to be in the dark on. She knew he lied to her about her mother, she suspected they weren't related by blood, she thought she failed to prevent a suicide, there was still whatever the boggart transformed into that prompted Lupin to conclude she was emotionally disturbed and...and she thinks I regret raising her...
"Just try to take better care of yourself, yes?" he said. "I have it on good authority you're supposed to outlive me."
"You're always so worried about me getting sick again," Hermione sighed sitting across from him. "I don't even remember being sick, nothing beyond small issues here and there anyway."
"Unfortunately," he said resting his hand on top of her head. "I remember it quite well. Perhaps well enough for the both of us. And I wish that were all I had to worry about."
"Dad?" Hermione knit her eyebrows in confusion, and concern read in every line on her face. "I'm not-"
"It's not just you, love," he said moving beside her and moving her hair behind her ear. "There is just so much out there. The most important thing I'll ever do is take care of you. To protect you. No matter how morally bankrupt you think I am."
"I never said you were morally bankrupt," she cocked her head to the side.
"You didn't have to," he sighed. "The way you looked at me during class that day said it all."
"I'm sorry," she looked at her dangling feet and clasped her hands. "But-erm-please," she ventured eye contact, pained, desperate. "Tell me some part of you found it disturbing assigning students an essay on how to kill one of your colleagues."
"I-" he stared at her. "You know?"
"I assumed," she looked away again. "He was sick the day of the fullmoon, and that potion you got him to drink-Wolfsbane, right?"
"Yes," he said slowly. "How did you know?"
"In Mahoukatoro," she started. "I was part of a non-human rights coalition. Not much, just a school club, but we did research. I was following this case of an Osaka werewolf who had her daughter taken away. After Wolfsbane potions were approved in Japan this summer, it was documented. I recognised the colour of the steam. Do you really hate him that much?"
"A non-human rights coalition, eh?" he said. "Even though 'they're human the other twenty-nine days of the month'?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "Mislycanthropy is present in Japan too. It seems only people concerned with elves, goblins and giants are concerned about werewolves. I don't understand."
"They're dangerous, Hermione," he explained.
"They're victims, Dad," she leapt to her feet. "They can't control it. They don't want to be werewolves. And let's not forget that I'm not too pleasant to be around once a month either!"
"Why does everyone keep comparing lycanthropy to harmless-" he sighed, rising himself before resting his hand on Hermione's head again. "You will be careful around him still, won't you?"
"Well I'm not inviting him to any fullmoon rites if that's what you-"Hermione exhaled. "I'll be careful. And you-"
"Love," he stroked her hair. "If I was going to tell anyone outright, it would have been you. Headmaster made me promise not to tell a soul. Even if he didn't, I could never do that."
"Promise?"
"Promise."