***Chapter Seven***

August 1998

"Is it weird?" Harry asked as they walked through the streets of Diagon Alley.

They were getting attention, of course. Harry was used to it, but she'd purposely stayed away from anywhere wizarding that wasn't Harry's house or Hogwarts, trying to avoid attention. Or a trial, but she was in and out for her testimony only. She did not linger. She did not talk to many. She did not sit in the gallery and listen to others' testimonies.

She just wanted to take care of herself. To recover. To come to terms with everything. Forget having to take that potion, but just having been in the position to have to cast the diagnostics at all.

And, yes, she realized by staying away she probably was making it so her simply being seen would be newsworthy. She realized today, noticing more than usual staring (and clearly talking about her and Harry) at them, that she should probably make some effort to be seen more than she had been since the war's end.

Surely Harry would meet her in Hogsmeade once in a while. She wasn't sure about coming here frequently. There were just too many people here. All of the time. Hogsmeade was smaller, and less commercial.

"Is what weird, Harry? I think you need to be more specific."

What in the past seven years hadn't been weird.

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "You don't really have to buy stuff this year," he said, gesturing to the others who were obviously here to do their back to school shopping.

"Oh, yes," she said. "I still have to wear robes."

"Well, right, but the headmaster isn't making you wear a uniform."

"No."

She was going to be an apprentice in-training. Severus seemed to believe it was beneath her, but it was all that Kingsley would acquiesce to. If he made an exception for Hermione, he'd have to for anyone else.

As if there was anyone else with her particular set of circumstances.

So, an apprentice in-training under Filius. She would be able to study for her NEWTs and take them when she felt she was ready. She was committed to the full year as Filius' teaching assistant, which was essentially what she was. She would be teaching the first and second year classes. That was Filius' idea, not Kingsley's. It evidently surprised Kingsley that Filius thought she was capable enough to teach those classes. Better yet, she could sit in on any class she wanted.

"And you get your own room, like a professor."

"I'm sure it's not going to be that fantastic, Harry."

"Still."

"You're right," she said, unable to deny it wasn't a little exciting. Her own room was truly more than she expected. She assumed she'd be in a shared set of rooms with others who'd missed last year.

She really didn't see any way out, other than taking a forced Year Seven. It was kind of the headmaster to be concerned, but she hadn't expected him to really go to bat for her as he had. She assumed once he got back to work, their conversations while he was healing would be somewhat forgotten for more important - and immediately pressing - things that needed to be taken care of.

"I can admit to not wanting to sleep in the same room as others."

Harry knew she slept with silencing charms cast on her room. There'd been a time or two she forgot to cast one at the end of the night, falling asleep while reading or whatever. He cast it for her, and never said a word about it. Yes, she could cast a silencing charm around her bed, but she found it wasn't as stable. She could only presume it was because there was no actual barrier like walls.

She was always paranoid that someone would hear her. Harry wouldn't care or think anything of it. They never spoke of what they dreamt about specifically. She just knew that he didn't sleep well either, but people came by. Harry knew she had nightmares. She didn't particularly want anyone else to know that she did anymore than he wanted anyone but her to know that he did.

It was, frankly, no one else's business.

"It's going to be weird," he admitted.

"I know," she said.

She thought it was going to be weird, too. Since a year ago, he'd been the one constant. Hell, she wasn't even sure what she was going to do with her time without having to worry about keeping him alive all of the time.

Not to say that she wouldn't still worry about him. Of course she would, but he was rather on his own now. (And, yes, that was scary to think, because that meant she was, too.)

"I wonder if Severus will balk at you visiting," she murmured.

"You know, he lets you call him that, but hasn't said more than two words to me."

"He'll get there, Harry." Not that she had any idea why he allowed her to call him by his first name. He'd granted her permission and she did it, but as Harry just pointed out. He wasn't letting Ginny or anyone else call him by his first name..

"If you say so."

"I do. He doesn't hate you." She knew that worried, and bothered, him. He didn't want him to see him as James Potter's son when he looked at him. Harry thought he'd proven he was his own man and wizard by now. Hermione thought he had, too, but he seemed to truly care about Severus' opinion of him. She couldn't blame him, she supposed.

"How do you know that?"

"He's told me. I think it's just strange for him. You're Lily and James' son. You're not Lily's son or James' son. You're a product of both of them, but also of the Dursleys and Hogwarts and …"

"You," he said.

"Yes, I suppose. The Weasleys, too, obviously. Anyway, my point is, I think he's trying to reconcile all of it. You did accuse him of being evil once or twice, Harry. Just give him time."

"You like him," he said, grazing her shoulder with his as they walked. Oddly, people were leaving them alone, other than staring or clearly talking about them being here today. No doubt their appearance here together would be reported by the Daily Prophet, but that was par for the course lately.

"I can admit that." The calm way he spoke to her when she wasn't feeling calm was totally unexpected. Of all the people she expected to be … kind under those circumstances, it wasn't the headmaster.

Harry nodded then. "I'm sorry for what Ron said that day."

She shrugged. "I am, too, but I'm not surprised he felt that way, which may be more disappointing to me than what he said. I'd rather find out now than later. I mean how many times does he think I'm going to allow him to act like a prat to me and take it? I deserve better. From a friend even."

"True, but maybe…"

"Harry. Please don't. It has nothing to do with Severus and whether or not I might like him. It has to do with how many times do I need to forgive Ronald? Why do I have to let him treat me that way? When does it become obvious based on his history that this is how he feels and acts? I understand he says things sometimes without thinking. He seems to like to deliberately say and do very hurtful things to me because he thinks 'it's Hermione, she doesn't have anyone but me'. Well, I would rather be alone than be treated like that. What did I do to him to deserve that, Harry? It's my fault somehow what happened…"

She trailed off here, because it was a sore subject with Harry ever since he'd found out she'd been raped. That his saying Voldemort's name was the root cause for that happening. Would they have been caught otherwise? At another time? Who was to say. She did not blame Harry, or Ron, or even Bellatrix LeStrange. Nor did she blame herself.

She blamed the death eater who had been too weak to show her his true face. Maybe she was better off not knowing. She didn't know.

"I guess I don't know. You shouldn't."

"Anyway," she said. "Hopefully, him being here and my being at Hogwarts," she sighed softly. "I'd like to be friends."

"I'll talk to him."

"No, please, don't do that, Harry. You mean well, and I know you want the three of us to be back to where we were a year ago. I don't know if that can happen, it's up to him. I'd rather he come to the conclusion that I'm his friend, one of his best friends, and what he said to that best friend was cruel on his own. Does he even realize he wouldn't have made the quidditch team without my help?"

He paused for a moment here, as if taking in her words. He glanced at her, and she gave him a little smirk to which he merely shook his head as her words sunk in. He nodded then.

"I get it."

Silence as they looked around. A family, the child obviously going into their first year, just passed them. The parents shushed the child when she pointed to Harry. Hermione smiled nostalgically.

She'd been so excited to come here for the first time. Excited and nervous. She kind of wished she could go back to that time, without the war. Except then, she realized as she slid her hand around Harry's forearm, she wouldn't have her best friend. So, she supposed it was all worth it.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked.

"Aside from that question, you mean?"

"You're hilarious. Yes."

"Yes."

"Are you, you know, okay?"

"What kind of question is that? You see me every day, Harry. I'm fine."

He stopped walking then, turning to face her. Her hand fell to her side then. "No, Hermione. You had to cast diagnostics to find out if you were pregnant. That meant you thought you could be. You didn't even tell us anything like that happened. You're obviously not…"

"I'm fine." She shrugged. What more could she say? That a small part of her, a sliver, felt guilt at ridding herself of the pregnancy? The part was incredibly small, miniscule, but enough to bring her to tears now and again. She knew it was the best thing to do, for a wide variety of reasons. She wasn't fine, Harry knew she wasn't, too, but he'd asked. That meant so much to her. And she knew that one day she would be fine.

"Okay. I haven't asked, assuming you'd talk to me, but you haven't, and now you're about to go to Hogwarts for months. You know I'll listen if you need to talk, right?"

"I do, Harry, and I appreciate that. Really. I'm fine. I mean, you know, I'm okay. Healing, working through it. All of it, though. We've all experienced trauma. I'm not the only one. I am dealing with it, and trying to move forward. Ronald's attitude isn't helping. Honestly, going to Hogwarts, studying and working will probably be exactly what I need to put everything in perspective."

He narrowed his eyes a bit, the lightning-shaped scar moving with the gesture.

"If you say so. My offer stands. If you find Hogwarts is not your answer."

"Harry," she looked at him.

She loved him. So much that it hurt. Everything they'd gone through to this point, she'd go through it again to know that he was alive and well with his whole future ahead of him. She knew he'd rather not be known as The Boy Who Lived any longer, but that moniker wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, especially since he managed to do it a second time.

"Do you want to talk about everything that happened the past year?"

"Well, no…"

"Then, please allow me to process as I need to. I will."

"All right. I just want you to know, I don't think like Ron does."

"I know you don't, and I don't think he really thinks that way either. I'm sure he feels as if he let me down even more, finding out what happened."

She shrugged.

She'd tried to justify why Ronald would say something so … hurtful and cruel … to her. That was the only thing she'd been able to come up with to this point. He thought he should have been the one to save her, and wasn't. Couldn't. She didn't blame him. She didn't blame Harry, and he was the one who said Voldemort's name. It was a war. It happened. She survived. She knew there were dozens of men and women who couldn't say that.

And while rape was a violent crime, and she knew it would effect her for a long time to come as she waded through her feelings on the past seven years. she hadn't been cut, maimed, scarred, or anything else, more than what Bellatrix had done anyway. She knew that she could have had a very, very awful experience. She could have been killed! It could've been Greyback. She could be a werewolf!

It left her wondering, when she took the time to think about that, and wonder who it could have been, if it hadn't been someone like Theodore Nott. Like he'd been told to, and did, but hadn't quite been out to harm her. She'd likely never know, and this was one thing she was choosing not to investigate. Nothing good could come of having that knowledge.

Did she like knowing he knew who he was and she didn't? Absolutely not.

They had dinner at a muggle place before returning to his house so that Hermione could be sure she had everything. (Not that she didn't already know she did.) Harry apparated with her to Hogwarts' gates, and from there they walked to the castle.

They'd walked this path so many times this summer. It had been so odd to come and go each day after six years of leaving only for holiday breaks or Hogsmeade days. Of course, things were a little different this year.

There was no longer the threat of war, or an evil maniac on the loose.

She stared at the castle once they got near it. Would it be the same? She'd spent time in it over the summer, but she was usually busy. Or preoccupied by ensuring people weren't able to declare Severus deceased when she knew that he wasn't.

No one really questioned her about how she knew when he came to. She found that surprising, because she wanted to know how she was able to. Maybe an argument could be made for him being in a coma that his occlumency shields were down, allowing her to do that. However, she hadn't dipped into his mind at all. She wouldn't dare try that with him! She would have thought a hexing would be the least of her worries if he found out she did that to him.

Now she wasn't so sure.

And that was confusing.

Harry stayed for dinner and afterward she stood to walk him to the exit. She didn't have to, but she wanted to say goodbye to her best friend away from dozens of prying eyes. Some were curious if her fallout with Ron was because of Harry.

"Miss Granger," Severus said from his headmaster's spot at the head table

"Yes, Sir," she said.

"Please come to my office after you've bid Mr. Potter adieu. There are a few things we need to go over regarding your position before it gets busy."

"I will," she said with a nod before turning her attention back to Harry. She slid her hand over his elbow to cup it, guiding him out the doors with her.

"What was that about?" Harry whispered.

"I don't know." She wondered the same thing, honestly.

"I thought he was calling you Hermione."

He did, had been. She was just as confused.

"I assume it was for the benefit of the staff."

That was the only thing she could come up with. What they had to go over, though, was stumping her. She thought all of the paperwork and the expectations Filius had for her had already been taken care of.

"Ah," he said, though he scrunched his nose a bit, suggesting he was processing that.

"I don't know, Harry. Maybe I irritated him already in the two hours I've been here."

"Doubtful. And if he is, let me know."

She chuckled, setting her head against his shoulder for a second. "I wouldn't, just to prevent you from doing something stupid. I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Harry."

"I know. That doesn't mean I want someone upsetting my best friend when she sat by his bed for weeks."

"Yes, well, it was quiet there."

Harry shook his head. He stopped at the door and stepped closer against her, hugging her tight.

"I'm going to miss you." Even whispered, she could hear the raw emotion in his voice. She felt the same way.

"Me, too," she said.

Morgana, this was harder than she thought it would be. It wasn't as if it was the first time they'd said goodbye. There was something different about it this time, though.

They wouldn't be back here. Together. At least not as students. Ever again.

Once he left through those doors, they were officially no longer students of Hogwarts.

It was a heavy thought.

"Good night, Hermione," he whispered into her hair.

"Good night, Harry."

"You owl me if you need anything. Anything at all."

"I will. You, too."

He snorted softly. "I'm not sure they have enough owls for that, but thank you."

She stepped away, ruffling his unruly hair. "You'll be fine, Harry Potter. You're a great wizard. You have a brain. Use it."

"Thanks, Mum."

"Yeah, well, someone has to say it."

"Thanks."

He opened the door then, and she followed him, holding it open as she watched him take the path that would get him to the gates.

She stood there for probably about ten minutes longer than necessary. She realized she'd put off going to see Severus for too long. It was time to find out what she'd done wrong. Or that she was fired already.

She made her way to the gargoyle statue, realizing she didn't know a password to get past him.

"Um," she said. "Headmaster Snape asked me to come to the office. Hermione Granger."

Nothing.

Priceless.

She only had one password. She'd used it years ago, when she'd met with Headmaster Dumbledore about the time turner.

"Tootsie Roll Pop," she muttered, embarrassed to even say it now. She found it rather funny in her third year. Whimsical on the headmaster's part. She wasn't as enamored with him as everyone else seemed to be. She couldn't be the only one who stopped to realize the headmaster had essentially served Harry up to Voldemort to be slaughtered.

The gargoyle moved, allowing her to pass through. Up the stairs she went, waiting at the door at the head of the steps. What did she do now?

She knocked.

"Headmaster? Sir? You wished to see me."

The door opened then. She expected to see him when it finished, but he was at his desk. Yes, she could open a door magically, but she wouldn't look like he did now: as if he hadn't done anything. His wand wasn't even near him!

Morgana.

"Thank you for coming."

"Did I have a choice?"

He brought his index finger to his lips, tilting his head slightly as he regarded her. She did her best not to fidget, wondering what that look was for. She wasn't being rude. Her question was really more a statement of fact. Keeping her role here so she could sit her NEWTs without having to take a seventh year, it seemed she, in fact, didn't have much choice but to do as he asked.

"You are upset with me?" he asked.

Oh. She hadn't realized he'd think that. Upset with him? No, she wasn't. She just didn't like not knowing.

"You called me Miss Granger, and basically ordered me to your office as if I'd done something wrong already. So, while, no, I'm not upset, I truly didn't think I had a choice."

"The Miss Granger was for the benefit of any of the staff who aren't aware of the amount of time you spent in my company because they stayed away from the infirmary."

His lips went up here in a bit of a smirk/smile thing that she liked. As if he knew why they stayed away.

"I did say we had things to go over, so I would hope people took me at my word and wouldn't interpret that as you being in trouble. I don't know that you, even with Mr. Potter in tow, could get into that much trouble in the time since you arrived. I will gradually work your given name into things. Unless there is a reason I need to do so now?"

"No. I just wasn't expecting it."

He nodded then. His eyes grew … hooded, and she wondered what he was thinking. He dropped his hand to the desk in front of him and sat back a bit, getting comfortable. It was interesting, because she hadn't really seen him in the position of headmaster. So, to see him sit comfortably, confidently, in a chair that some wondered if he deserved to be allowed to sit in was interesting.

She liked it.

"I will be … mindful of my tone going forward. You are not in trouble. You've done nothing to be in trouble for. At least not that I'm aware of."

"Well, I did burn your robes…"

His lips twitched again, and she thought she saw Headmaster Dumbledore's portrait behind Severus's desk holding back a laugh.

"Mm. I assumed we would start this year with a clean slate."

"That would be nice," she said, feeling better about that. There were so many things, on both their parts, to fret or accuse over if they wanted to. She preferred that they not, especially with as well as they had gotten along over the summer. And his assistance with the NEWTs.

"I requested you to come meet with me here because I didn't want anyone to know I was going to take you to my quarters."

Her eyes widened at that. "I'm sorry?" What exactly was he implying? Yes, she thought she liked him. She knew she was attracted to him. She didn't think that led to being invited to the headmaster's quarters, though, the day she got here. "If you think I need to pay you back for this arrangement…"

He shook his head, and looked truly stricken. She felt a little bad that she was the reason for that look. She liked him smiling better.

"That is not the way I meant it at all. Of all people, I should hope my behavior since you told me what happened to you would tell you I wouldn't do that. I wish to speak to you. Without staff or portraits around. If you trust me, I'd like to show you to my quarters. I did not think you'd appreciate Sybil, for example, being aware I was asking you to join me in my rooms the first night you're in the castle as staff."

Well, put like that, he wasn't wrong. The last thing either of them needed was gossip about something that was non-existent or, at the very least, not illicit.

"I trust you," she said.

She was watching the former headmaster's portrait over Severus' shoulder when she said this. She was pretty sure he gave her an approving nod. There was … something in the man's eyes, though, that she wasn't sure she liked. As if the nod and his thoughts didn't quite go together.

He stood then, gesturing for her to join him. He set a hand at the small of her back as they walked to a closed door. He opened it, letting her pass through into what was a very formal sitting room. Her parents would call it a reception room. Somehow she didn't think Severus had a reception room in the home he grew up in.

It was, however, charming. Formal. Stuffy. Still, charming. She suspected this was the same decor as the former headmaster had. She didn't think Severus had many chances or reasons to use a room like this last year.

He guided her across the room and as they approached the wall on the other side of the door they'd come through, another doorway appeared.

"Oh," she said, and he chuckled.

"You thought this was my quarters?"

"Well, no," she said. "I just," she shrugged. She wasn't sure what she was thinking.

"I've left you speechless. I will remember this day fondly, I'm sure."

"Very funny, Severus."

He snorted softly, waving his hand in front of them, which resulted in the door opening. She was impressed, and he likely knew that. Not so much that he was capable of doing such magic with ease. So soon after his injury, though, yes, it was a little surprising.

And impressive.

"Would you like some wine? Something else?"

"Wine would be nice, thank you," she said. She took a seat in a chair he gestured to as he called an elf.

Now this room was clearly updated to his tastes. Slytherin decor in a few spots. Not that she'd given Headmaster Dumbledore's decorating choices much thought, but nothing in this room seemed as if it belonged to the late headmaster.

For all she knew, Hogwarts provided the decor so Severus hadn't done any of it.

"A bottle of my favorite wine with two glasses, please. And something to accompany it."

The elf popped away, returning moments later with a bottle of wine and two glasses, as requested. There was also a tray with some cheese, crackers, and various fruits one could eat with their fingers.

He opened the wine, letting it breathe for a bit while they assembled plates of what they wanted from the offered finger foods. They'd just finished dinner, so she didn't think he was any hungrier than she was. Fruit, though, and cheese sounded heavenly right now.

And she was mindful that Madam Pomfrey told her she needed to eat well.

Was that why he'd asked for something to accompany the wine?

"Thank you," she finally said once he poured them each some wine.

"I've debated about how to go about this."

"Um," she said, in part because she'd just taken a bite out of a cracker.

"Relax, please."

"Sorry," she murmured, swallowing. "It's just so strange going from sitting by your bed in the infirmary to drinking wine with you here."

"I understand. I assure you, all I'm looking for is privacy from prying ears." He waved his hand, revealing a book on the coffee table in front of them. "Do you know what this is?" he asked her.

"No," she said, tilting her head. Was she supposed to? It was obviously old. Well used, but taken care of. Magically, no doubt. Thick. Merlin. What kind of information did it contain?

"It's a book, obviously, a registry of all of the magical births."

"Oh," she said.

That was certainly interesting, and something she'd be curious to look through. She wasn't sure why it warranted privacy, though. No one on the staff, professors or otherwise, would be surprised to see her looking at a book.

"Your name appeared here September 19, 1979. I wasn't aware of that then, obviously," he paused here, and she saw something pass in those dark eyes that she couldn't interpret. It was as if he had more to say, but was refraining. "But your name is in it, as it belongs."

"Um," she said. She felt so stupid saying nothing but um, but she had no idea what was going on, or why she was here.

He waved his hand to reveal a second book. Obviously old, too, but clearly not used as frequently as the other one was.

"This is a registry of another sort. It is for those born who is someone's soul mate."

"Okay."

"You are in this one, too."

She swallowed. She was someone's soul mate. Morgana. "Please don't let it be Goyle."

He chuckled.

"No. Shockingly, his name does not appear in this registry. Now, that doesn't mean a witch might be born sometime in the near future that is his soul mate. His name wouldn't be in the book now, though. Only when she is born would it appear."

"I see." Interesting bit of magic. And then it dawned on her what he was driving at. He wasn't in the book either until her name appeared. "It's you."

"Yes."

"That's how we were able to communicate. How I knew that you weren't dead."

"Yes," he said, no doubt pleased she made that leap.

"So what does that mean?"

"Well, before we discuss that," he said, standing after he set his wineglass down. He took the birth and soul mate registry books, setting them in what looked to her like a muggle safe, but she guessed it wasn't that at all.

He returned with an armful of what looked like muggle notebooks, setting them on the coffee table where the registries had been.

"I do not believe I could properly summarize the past twenty years. More, really. These are my journals prior to Halloween 1981," he said, setting his hand on one stack of notebooks. "These are my journals after the end of the first war."

She frowned.

"I will excuse you from work for the next forty-eight hours. Filius will be under the impression you're working on a project for me, which you, in actuality, are. More or less."

"Okay."

"After you've read these. I will have no secrets from you. None. The ones prior to 1981 are not happy or pleasant. You will read some things about Lily Potter nee Evans in them. It's important, though, that I can say I've laid everything on the table for you."

"Literally," she said, and he smirked.

"Indeed."

"And when I'm done?"

"Well, that will be up to you. You'll either come talk to me, or you won't."

"Which do you prefer?"

"My preference isn't a factor here. Which do I expect? I expect you to run as far from me as you can."

"Do you want me to?"

"Read the journals, Hermione, and then if you wish to talk about what this all means, we can. I need you to know, everything."

"But…"

"It is fair, is it not? I know about your activities…"

"Yes, but those are my activities, not my thoughts. These are private, Severus. I shouldn't…"

"There are … complications. Things I can't explain to you without you reading these. If you don't wish to…" he shrugged. "Well, I would not feel comfortable pursuing anything even as basic as a friendship unless you have. I will not lie to you, and I don't want to verbally regurgitate my past."

She sighed. Likely he knew that would bother her. She could understand what he was saying, though. "Okay."

"There is one condition."

"Mm," she said, staring at the notebooks with nervousness and trepidation. Morgana. What just about anyone in the wizarding world would pay to read these journals sitting here.

"I would prefer you read them here." He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "You will have your own room, with a desk, and enough space to read through these. You will have your own bathroom even. You will just be here, under the protection of my - the headmaster's - quarters."

"Okay," she said.

His eyes widened a bit, evidently surprised.

"You don't want to think about it."

"There's nothing to think about. You not being a friend is not something I want. I just don't feel right."

"As I'd expect."

"You're not going to obliviate me after I read them, are you?"

"Good question, and no. If you choose to betray my trust in you. Well," he shrugged, and she felt bad.

Bad that he likely hadn't really had anyone he could trust. Not truly.

"Another thing to consider, and you will understand completely why when you're done, but I cannot live as a muggle. Not to say that I can't go out amongst muggles, but I should not be seen regularly. Particularly where there are those surveillance cameras."

She tilted her head a bit, regarding him. There was a reason he couldn't. Something had happened. She swallowed, wondering if she wanted to know. It seemed so odd that he was just granting her this access. She saw his point, though.

"There's a lot here. You think forty-eight hours is sufficient?"

"If you need longer, let me know, but I know you, and am counting on your veracity and curiosity causing you to tear through them. Figuratively. Please don't tear out pages. As much as I'd prefer they not see the light of day in some instances, they are important."

"I understand. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"So," he said with a nod. The look in those dark eyes of his told her he wasn't sure he could believe her. She saw something in them, though, a flicker of his pupils when she said she wouldn't tell anyone that she took to mean he wanted to trust her.

"I can escort you to your room via floo so that you can get what you need for the next few days."

"Okay," she said with a nod.

"You can eat in the Great Hall if you wish, or you will have access to my elf. His name is Corkey."

"Oh, I don't need…"

"You say that now. My past may just surprise you."

"Thank you."

She followed him to the fireplace then where they floo'd to her room. She'd been right in what she told Harry. It was her own room, but it wasn't lavish. She had a little more space than a pretty standard bedroom: dresser with matching wardrobe, desk, and nightstand. The bed was larger than her bed in Gryffindor dorms had been. A comfortable chair to read or study in in front of the fire. She was very keen on the private bath, though.

She wasn't vain, but she knew she'd lost a lot of weight the past year. (Hell, she'd been surprised to find out that she could physically get pregnant because her periods had been so inconsistent during their time on the run.) She didn't want the threat of someone walking in on her while she was dressing or showering.

She gathered her bag and some clothes, followed by Crookshanks. She had to have Harry go get him from the Weasley's. She couldn't face all of them yet.

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"All right," he said with a slight scowl at Crookshanks. "You do realize he'll get out of my rooms anyway?"

"I do, but he needs to know where I am in order to find me."

"Valid," he said with a nod, stepping back into the fireplace to take them back to his quarters.

Much nicer than hers.

Fitting since he was the headmaster.

"So, no hints as to what I'm about to read?"

"You don't need hints. If you were dim enough to, you would not have been selected as my soul mate."

There was a compliment in there, she knew that.

She picked up the first journal, casting a charm on her wineglass to prevent the condensation from dripping off of the stem and base. She wasn't going to ruin these things. She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye when she cast the charm.

For his part. He remained in his quarters, but went to what was obviously a private office. So he was leaving her alone to read about his arrival at Hogwarts as a student almost thirty years ago.

Morgana.

Did she really want to do this? It seemed like such an invasion. Harry said Severus had reacted rather violently when Harry looked at his memories. This was way more than a glimpse into his memories. This was his past. Pretty much all of it.

She started reading.

The Marauders had been prats to him on the Express from day one. She had no idea. She had never formed an overly positive opinion of Sirius Black. Maybe if he'd survived and had time to acclimate to things post-war, he'd have been different. He just seemed as if he never quite grew up. (She understood why. Life in Azkaban wasn't easy, and he'd spent a lot of his time in his animagus form.) She wasn't expecting that perspective to change.

What she was worried about?

She liked Remus. Did she believe he was perfect and infallible? No, of course not, but she wasn't sure she wanted to read about him behaving like an ignoramus in this man's journals.

She sighed softly, sipping from her wineglass as she looked at the wall above the mantle.

He wanted her to do this.

Soul mates.

He wanted this information to be hers.

If he was anyone else, she probably wouldn't be so surprised. Even without knowing he got mad at Harry (and why), she knew he was a very private person.

Here went nothing.

NOTE: Happy Wednesday! Thank you for reading, and I will see you Sunday with the next chapter.