Requiem for a Cuckoo
"Oh, thank Merlin!" Hermione Granger cried out in relief, her face puffy from shedding tears. Like a needy Bowtruckle, she wrapped her arms around Severus' middle, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. "I thought we'd lost you!" she continued to rattle on.
With the pungent, almost overpowering taste of dittany on his tongue, Severus breathed in so he could ask what in Slytherin's name she was doing, but instead began to cough, swirls of mist forming in the chill air.
"Sorry," Miss Granger apologised, quickly releasing him. "Are you still injured? Is anything broken? When I discovered your heart not beating and all my previous attempts to save you failed, I gave you an Elixir of Last Hope in desperation." The potion worked similarly to a defibrillator but was rarely used because of the risk of Inferi-osis, a slow-wasting disease.
"I also gave you an extra-strength healing potion and a bit of Liquid Luck I've been saving," Miss Granger continued to explain, grinning as if she had just revealed a small secret he was already partially aware of.
So…Miss Granger was the one who pilfered my unaccounted-for potions last year, Severus realised in passing. But not Felix Felicis. I don't know where she acquired that cheat of a potion. But most likely from Slughorn, the mediocre sycophant.
He dazedly reached for his neck, where he remembered the searing pain from Nagini's bite but, confusingly, found it intact. Severus moved his hand to his chest and winced; he felt like he had been directly hit by a powerful Impactus Curse.
"Do you need another Vitalis Draught?" she asked worriedly while Potter, kneeling on Severus' other side with his wand softly lit, divided his attention between him and keeping watch.
After slowly inhaling and exhaling a few breaths, Severus determined he was only severely bruised. He looked at her anxious, hopeful face and shook his head no.
Miss Granger and Potter sagged with relief.
"Ron, mate," Potter said with a slight chuckle, offering a hand, "I nearly went mad thinking you were gone."
Ron? Severus thought in further confusion. As in Ronald Weasley? Did Potter misspeak?
While he concentrated on surveying his surroundings, he accepted their help and grunted to his feet. Nearby, he saw Travers's unconscious or, hopefully, dead body. His hood had fallen away, revealing bushy grey hair, yet his mask remained firmly in place, its unique engravings allowing Severus to identify him.
Beyond Travers stood the Shrieking Shack, its rotting, forsaken silhouette in the dim moonlight making him shiver. Unsurprisingly, a part of the building appeared to have collapsed.
Miss Granger handed him a wand, and he instinctually accepted it. However, on closer inspection, he realised it was not his wand—he inhaled a shocked breath—nor was the hand with bitten fingernails gripping it.
Was I given Polyjuice Potion? Unlikely, given the way Potter and Miss Granger are acting.
"You all right, mate?" asked Potter, placing a hand on Severus' shoulder.
I can't tell them the truth. If they discover their close friend is not currently occupying his body, they might become hysterical. How would Weasley go about answering…
"Yeah, I'm fine, mate," he uttered hoarsely, his voice now distinctly less low. "Just banged up a bit, you know? Nothing I can't handle. Let's just focus on what we need to do next, all right? Got to keep our heads on straight."
Potter gave him a commiserating smile and nodded. Sighing, he looked at Travers.
"What happened?" Severus asked. "My memory's sort of funny."
"We startled each other," Potter explained, "all of us shooting spells before realising. I reckon"—he chuckled—"he wasn't expecting anyone to suddenly burst out of the Shrieking Shack."
Severus stepped towards Travers. After locating Travers' wand, he picked it up, snapping it in half and tossing the pieces away.
"Come on, you two," Miss Granger implored. "We need to hurry. We only have about forty-five more minutes until the ceasefire ends. Fortunately, since the anti-Apparation enchantments are down, we won't have to trek all the way back. Meet me at the west entrance of the Viaduct Courtyard. The location should provide us with enough cover."
A ceasefire? he contemplated as she disappeared with a crack. Severus knew if the Dark Lord had proclaimed a brief cessation of hostilities, it was as a calculated move to exploit their fears and vulnerabilities, nothing more.
Severus glanced at Potter with worry before they hurried to join her.
Adjusting his attention to their new surroundings, what he observed tore at the beating muscle inside his chest. Bodies were strewn across the grounds like forgotten, broken porcelain dolls. The acrid and scorched stench of war hung in the air and burnt his throat. He saw no one else roaming about besides him, Miss Granger, and Potter, the eerie calmness around them increasingly seeming to smother them with every creeping step. Severus glanced up at the battered exterior of Hogwarts, where torches glimpsed through blasted-out windows resembled glistening tears. To his surprise, he felt his own eyes sting with emotion.
Inside, the Entrance Hall looked gutted, clumps of rubble littering the ground like discarded piles of offal. They cautiously passed through the Reception Hall into the Great Hall filled with the weary and lost.
The dead were respectfully placed in the middle of the Hall, acting as a palpable reminder to fuel their resolve. There, Severus saw the Weasley family surrounding one body.
Could it be Ronald Weasley's?
Noticing their approach, Miss Weasley and Percy Weasley stepped towards them, revealing Fred Weasley's lifeless form.
As Percy threw his arms around Severus in a grief-stricken embrace, he spotted the dead bodies of Nymphadora Tonks and Lupin. He gasped, realising the last of the Marauders was finally gone, and a mixture of bitter relief and sorrow filled him.
At the same time, Potter stopped short. With every muffled sob or cry of pain he heard, his expression of guilt, which Severus could easily relate to, grew more profound.
Potter slowly backed away, then turned and fled.
Torn between hope and dread, Severus suspected Potter had left to view the memories he had provided—memories that would sadly unveil his inevitable fate.
Everyone around him seemed to be crying, some loudly, others stoically and silently. Severus tried to refrain, as he typically would, but when he attempted to increase the strength of his Occlumency barriers, he discovered they were nowhere to be found, which in hindsight made sense. Occlumency was a skill that needed to be exercised and developed, creating a conditioned mental reflex, of which Ronald Weasley's mind had none.
To his dismay, Severus felt a tear escape down his cheek, then more. He closed his eyes, fighting to stop them.
But when the arms of multiple Weasleys surrounded him and he heard Mrs Weasley softly say near his ear, "It'll be all right. He'll always be with us, in our hearts and memories. We'll get through this together, as a family," Severus surrendered to the torrent of his emotions.
Perhaps it was just as well he did weep; otherwise, he risked drawing unwanted attention to himself.
Severus eventually regained his composure and resolved not to remain idle.
He cleared his throat and said, "I'm gonna see if I can help out," the use of improper grammar chafing him.
Leaving with a few comforting pats on his shoulders and Mrs Weasley giving him an approving, watery smile, Severus scanned the Hall.
Currently, Madam Pomfrey bustled about on the raised platform at the top of the Hall, where the High Table usually stood. He strode towards her underneath the Enchanted Ceiling glowing with the dawn's light.
"Madam Pomfrey," he said to gain her attention, "I wish to help in any way I can."
She stared at him a moment before giving a slow nod. "Here you are, then, Mr Weasley," she replied in her no-nonsense manner, placing potions from her apron into Severus' hands before rushing off to attend her next patient.
Being addressed as "Mr Weasley" left him feeling odd. He had always yearned for a pure-blood name, yet now, having been referred to as one, he was overcome with a sense of emptiness.
After a shake of his head, Severus focused on the potions given to him. He read their labels and discovered he held a jar of Burn-Healing Paste and a bottle of Murtlap Essence. He examined their properties, as he routinely would, checking their colour and consistency, and even opened each to take a sniff to confirm their quality.
Then, without any further delay, he approached Parvati Patil, who had a large gash on her face.
Time sped by as Severus treated one student after another. At present, he was applying paste to Mr Finnigan's right arm.
"If you can, be sure to reapply in three hours," Severus instructed. "Also, avoid taking Fungus Fighter Potion or Numbing Solution for the next twenty-four hours because of the possible negative interactions."
"Blimey, Ron," Mr Finnigan remarked, looking impressed, "never thought you'd be so clued up on this potion stuff."
Severus refrained from rolling his eyes at his vocation being called "stuff."
Suddenly, the Dark Lord's disembodied voice boomed around them, chilling him to his core.
"'Harry Potter is dead…'"
Shutting his eyes, Severus gasped in a pained breath while others cried out in fear. With every subsequent word, the Dark Lord's lies seeped into him as if the Drink of Despair was being poured directly into Severus' soul. When he had killed Dumbledore, he knew the necessity of it. The same was true for Harry's fate. However, the agony of Harry's death suffocated him, stabbed at him, and wracked him from within. Severus had betrayed Lily, yes, but it was a betrayal borne of ignorance, not malice. Had he known the truth, he would have willingly faced the Killing Curse to protect her. The same held true for Harry.
Oh, how he wished he could have saved him, but now even his wish was utterly meaningless.
"'Come out…'" the Dark Lord demanded gloatingly.
Gradually, those who were able moved towards Hogwarts' front doors, led by Professor McGonagall. A few stayed with Madam Pomfrey, focused on creating protective enchantments around the injured and dead.
Outside, a line of salivating Death Eaters stood stark in the morning sunlight, Professor McGonagall's anguished keening breaking the silence. Others quickly added their voices, calling out Harry's name in denial.
"'Harry! HARRY!'"
Severus stared at Harry's small, limp body in Hagrid's arms. His throat constricted, and hatred, unlike anything he had ever experienced, suffused his cells like dragon fire.
Without a word, he rushed forward, aiming for the Dark Lord's throat, hoping to end both him and Nagini, now free from her enchanted cage and hanging from his neck.
"Sectumsempra!" he whispered ferociously.
However, unlike his own wand, the one in his hand was not suited to Dark offensive magic, and his reflexes lagged, Weasley's body only possessing a fraction of Severus' proficiency.
His spell went wide, but the Dark Lord's returning curse did not.
Severus expected to endure excruciating pain, to feel as if every inch of his body were being rent apart and submerged in acid. Instead, pressure enveloped his body as if he were stuck between two opposing forces.
"Ron! No! Stop hurting him…" he distantly perceived as he struggled to inhale.
Mercifully, likely due to stressing his previous injuries, he collapsed to the ground unconscious a few seconds later.
Severus gasped awake. He gathered not much time had passed, given most people still remained where he last remembered, except for Harry's body, now on the ground. However, turning to his right, his eyes widened at the sight of Mr Longbottom donning a flaming Sorting Hat.
Wanting to aid him, Severus grabbed Mr Longbottom's wand on the ground near him, then crawled to his feet. He frowned, faintly hearing the clomping of hooves and hisses of flying arrows.
Can it be? Have the centaurs finally decided to join the war?
Movement where Harry lay seized his attention. He turned, then froze, his jaw slack when he caught the briefest glimpse of Harry, alive, disappearing underneath his Invisibility Cloak.
Before Severus could even register his profound relief, Mr Longbottom amazed him further by somehow wandlessly freeing himself from his Body-Bind Curse. Then he laughed in flabbergasted delight when, in one smooth motion, Mr Longbottom produced the Sword of Gryffindor and bisected Nagini like a Flobberworm.
The Dark Lord's furious scream sobered him quickly, and Severus pointed his wand toward Mr Longbottom.
"Protego!" he exclaimed aloud rather than non-verbally, erring on the side of caution.
Severus noticed a flicker as his protection charm unexpectedly merged with another's.
Harry's? he wondered, searching for a sign of him.
As Severus joined the fray, he kept an eye out for Harry's whereabouts. Weasley's body didn't have the muscle memory of his own, causing his spells to be somewhat erratic, but he compensated with his extensive knowledge of spells. Spells he created, spells from ancient tomes, the restricted section, and the Dark Lord himself: all were fair game as he took down his former brethren.
The swelling mass of people funnelled into the castle as if Hogwarts itself were swallowing groups of battling Death Eaters and Order members like necessary medicinal potions.
While amongst weapon-wielding house-elves in the Entrance Hall, Severus bumped into Mr Longbottom and used the opportunity to return his wand. From there, they worked in tandem and did so surprisingly well.
Fighting their way into the Great Hall, he occasionally noticed a curse aimed at an ally suddenly collide with a Shield Charm, reassuring him that Harry was alive and nearby.
"Ron, behind you!" warned Mr Longbottom, prompting Severus to scramble aside and spin to see the threat.
Fenrir Greyback, the root of Lupin's suffering, grinned at them with crimson-stained sharp teeth. "Ready to play, kiddos?" he taunted, licking a bloody clawed finger as though he had just dipped it in a pudding. "It won't be as fun for you."
Greyback was accustomed to terrorising the weak and scared, such as young children or helpless Muggles. However, Severus wasn't powerless; he was a battle-hardened wizard.
Without hesitation, he aimed his wand and fired: "Petrificus Totalus!"
The next instant, Mr Longbottom lunged forward, plunging the gleaming silver sword in his hand into Greyback's chest.
Greyback looked at them in shock before collapsing to the ground, motionless.
Severus battled on until Mrs Weasley and Bellatrix commenced a duel. He would have applauded at the mad bitch's demise if the Dark Lord hadn't thrown a tantrum, blasting him and other onlookers over with a magical burst.
"'Protego!'" Harry's voice suddenly rang throughout the Hall, shielding Mrs Weasley from the Dark Lord's wrath.
No longer hidden under his Cloak, Harry glared defiantly at the Dark Lord. Severus struggled to remain still, wanting to rush forward and protect Harry, but he knew this final confrontation had to be between Harry and the Dark Lord alone. Harry said as much a few moments later.
He listened as they verbally sparred, tears pooling in his eyes at Harry's words.
"'Severus Snape wasn't yours…'"
"'Snape's Patronus was a doe…same as my mother's…'"
Harry and the Dark Lord continued to exchange barbs, revealing histories and motives. Severus already knew much of what was disclosed, but Harry's information about the Elder Wand's allegiance surprised him.
"'I am the true master of the Elder Wand,'" Harry declared last, causing Severus to gasp in awe and hope.
In the next instant, deadly green and vibrant red spells arched across the Hall between the Dark Lord and Harry. When their spells met, a resonant boom echoed throughout the room, and the Elder Wand flew from the Dark Lord's grasp as if his hand had been swatted like that of an errant child.
The Dark Lord toppled over like a rotten tree, eyes dull, his unmoving body appearing thin and frail without the aura of powerful magic. Light beamed through stained glass, casting a fiery crimson glow like molten blood across the Dark Lord's corpse.
Severus glanced at his left forearm, half-expecting to see the fading imprint of black ink, but of course, being in Weasley's body, it bore no trace of the Dark Mark.
A wellspring of emotion he couldn't contain surged within him. He sank to his knees and, a few moments later, felt slender feminine arms surround him. For a brief, desperate moment, Severus thought it was Lily, but when he pulled away to look, he found Miss Granger smiling, crying, and laughing all at once.
She pulled Severus up and dragged him to Harry's side. Harry hugged them both with Draco's wand and the Elder Wand in his left hand. Others joined them, shouting and crying in exaltation. They gathered around Harry, forming a larger living being with him at its centre as if he were the vital heart pumping life into their collective body.
As the day wore on, Severus felt muted. He forced a smile when necessary, spoke when necessary, did what was necessary.
Currently, he sat with Miss Granger resting next to him and stared at the forlorn Malfoys, tempted to start a conversation with them somehow.
Before he could act on the impulse, Severus heard Harry softly announce his invisible presence and ask, "'Will you come with me?'"
Miss Granger stood immediately, and after a slight pause, he did the same.
Once they were far enough away, Harry removed his Cloak. Then, as they continued to walk and Harry shared all he had witnessed, Severus unconsciously led them to the Headmaster's study, out of habit.
After some theatrics from the portraits of past Headmasters, Harry conversed with Dumbledore. Their altruistic chatter about powerful magical artefacts made his stomach sour from its lemon sherbet sweetness.
Performing the impossible yet again, Harry used the Elder Wand to fix the broken pieces of his own with a simple "'Reparo.'"
Inspiration struck, and Severus said, "Merlin's beard, I could have really used that trick in second year." He chuckled and quipped, "Any other wands you want to go and rescue?"
Harry thought for a moment, hopefully in the direction Severus wanted.
"Yeah," Harry finally answered with a determined nod. "But I can do it with my own wand. Accio Professor Snape's wand!"
About thirty seconds later, a black lacquered wand flew through a broken window into Harry's outstretched hand.
With reverence, he placed Severus' wand on the desk. "Don't worry, Professor Snape. For all the bravery you showed, I'll make sure your portrait is displayed, too." He gave the wand a kind pat. "But for now, this'll have to do."
Glancing at the wall of deceased Headmasters and considering his current state, Severus wondered if his portrait would bear his old face or his new one and whether it would be possible for there to be one at all.
Mr Weasley's Patronus, a silvery, ethereal squirrel, scurried into the room, stopping before Severus.
"It's time we all returned home," spoke Mr Weasley's tired voice. "We'll be waiting in the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione, you're, of course, welcome too."
Severus dreaded going to the Burrow, but he was absolutely exhausted, like everyone else who had not taken a Wideye Potion.
After giving perfunctory thanks and salutations to Dumbledore and the rest of the portraits, he, Miss Granger, and Harry headed towards the exit. On the way out, Severus deftly nabbed his real wand.
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Severus' firm look made him shut it and raise his bushy white eyebrows in surprise and silent question.
When they entered the Great Hall after returning the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's gave, solemnity weighed heavily in the air. A line of wooden coffins now occupied the middle of the room, each serving as a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the cost of conflict. Nameplates had been affixed to each lid, and the Weasleys were gathered around Fred's coffin.
Spotting them, Mr Weasley approached and gave them a quick group hug, making Severus feel like he was an unsuspecting kelpie caught in a net until he was released.
Mr Weasley gazed at their dirty and sleep-deprived faces. "Would you three be willing to help us bring Fred back home?"
"I'd be honoured, Mr Weasley," answered Harry without any hesitation.
Miss Granger wiped away a tear and cleared her throat. "I'd be honoured as well."
Severus nodded stiffly, feeling like he was stealing a precious moment from Weasley.
When possible, in a show of utmost respect, the dead were not shrunken for easy transportability but were instead physically carried by loved ones. The same was done for Dumbledore. Severus doubted his own remains would be treated as such. And why would they? He had ensured he was seen as untrustworthy. Heartless, even. He had been fearfully respected by most, not genuinely.
A hush fell over the Hall as Mr Weasley and William positioned themselves at the head of Fred's temporary coffin. In front of them, Charles and Percy assumed their places, followed by George and Severus, with Harry and Miss Granger taking their stance at its foot, all of them acting as sentinels in a unified gesture of honour.
As one, they lifted the coffin and moved in a procession out of Hogwarts, with Miss Weasley and Fleur Delacour on either side of Mrs Weasley, supporting and comforting her.
Once outside in the waning golden sunlight, they found an area in the courtyard clear of debris and came to a halt.
"All right, everyone," Mr Weasley said, "let's aim for near the front steps. On the count of three. One. Two. Three."
Tightly holding on to their precious cargo, they Disapparated simultaneously.
Arriving at the Burrow, clouds hung over the Weasley family home like a burial shroud.
With a flick of his wand, Mr Weasley cast a spell to widen the doorframe. "Let's go ahead and place him in the conservatory for now," he said, his eyes welling up. "Although, if he were here, he'd probably suggest something outlandish like the kitchen. Would say something like, 'It'd only be right, Dad. Mum wouldn't want me to miss a meal.'" He chuckled, quickly wiping away tears with a finger.
Mrs Weasley smiled at his words, her sorrow streaming freely down her cheeks. She cleared her throat. "Well, I'll go ahead and get a meal going," she said before hurrying into the house.
Carefully, they carried Fred past the threshold. Although Severus knew the location of the Burrow, he had never actually been inside and had to rely on the cues of the others for his following footsteps.
Once in the conservatory overlooking the garden, Mrs Delacour Transfigured an empty clay planter into a table with a graceful swish of her wand, and the group set the coffin upon it gently.
While most everyone dispersed to rest, clean up, or lend a hand to Mrs Weasley, Miss Granger pulled Severus aside.
"Come on, Ron," she urged. "Let's go upstairs so I can check you for Inferi-osis."
Ah, that's right. I might have simply traded one excruciating death for an even more excruciating one.
Her hand clasped his, making him uncomfortable as they ascended the stairway by the back garden door to the second floor.
On the landing, Severus could see three doors. One had the faint sound of a shower running, which ruled it out. The other two doors were decorated with Quidditch posters, still leaving him unsure of which one to approach.
Fortunately, Miss Granger chose for him, opening the nearest door with a poster of the Chudley Cannons. He should have known Weasley would root for the most abysmal team in the league.
Severus followed her to a bed against the wall separating them from the hallway. He swallowed, Miss Granger's presence and the tight quarters of the room feeling claustrophobic. Objectively, Severus knew she was an attractive, intelligent witch, but he had only ever thought of her as an insufferable know-it-all; however, her sitting with barely a foot between them made him quite uneasy. Miss Granger's rich brown gaze was open and filled with care, and it was focused solely on him.
Feeling his teenage body betray him, Severus casually hid his crotch with a hand, desperately wishing his Occlumency shields still existed. He already knew the diagnostic spell she wanted to cast and would rather minimise his time alone with her from here on out.
"Hermione," said Severus, "how about you teach me that spell? Bet you've got better things to do than babysit me."
She smiled at him. "It's no problem at all. And I can teach you afterwards if you like. I must say, Ronald, it's nice to hear you want to learn more."
Miss Granger took a moment to practice the wand movement and cadence of the spell.
"All right," she said, pointing her wand tip between his eyes. "Inferi-Detectum Praecisio."
They held their breath as her magic investigated him from head to toe for signs of necrosis. When the sensation tickled his feet, he couldn't help but let out a mortifying giggle. Severus mentally cursed Weasley's undisciplined body.
At least I'm no longer hard, he thought, relieved.
Upon receiving a negative result, they visibly relaxed.
"To be safe—" she began, but Severus, eager to leave, finished her sentence.
"I'll need to check myself weekly for the next six months."
"Yes, that's right," she said, surprised. "Where did you learn that?"
"Oh, you know, from some book," Severus attempted, aware that Weasley would rather vomit slugs all day than read a book for knowledge and not merely entertainment.
"Just a handful of books contain that information," Miss Granger said slowly, her disbelief apparent. "Which one did you read? Was it Rare Magical Maladies by Beaumont Marchbanks?"
Severus nodded because that was indeed a book he had read, along with Arcane Ailments: A Comprehensive Guide to Magical Illnesses and Brewing Dark Diseases, the latter of which was found only in his private collection; not even the Restricted Section had a copy.
"When did you read it?" she asked.
"While I was…away," he said, alluding to when Weasley had left her and Harry during the war, hoping to distract her and avoid further questioning.
Miss Granger sighed. "Please don't bring that up again. We've already discussed it enough, haven't we? I'm still upset about it, even though I've forgiven you."
She…forgave him, Severus thought with yearning, remembering how he had begged Lily's forgiveness to no avail.
However, Miss Granger misinterrupted his longing look because, the next instant, she pounced, smashing their mouths together.
He gasped, his eyes as large as Quidditch hoops and his erection instantly resurrecting.
Finding his wits, he attempted to lean back. "M-Miss Granger!" he mumbled against her lips. "Desist at once!"
She paused, then pulled away, frowning. "Miss Granger?" she echoed incredulously. "Ronald, is this really the time for such a joke? I've always said you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, but honestly!"
"I'm afraid this isn't a joke," Severus replied with all seriousness, gripping his familiar wand hidden by his thigh.
Miss Granger did not scream. Instead, she leapt to her feet and aimed her wand at his chest. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Where's Ron?"
Severus considered his options: trying to explain further? physically or magically disabling her?
He opted for a more direct approach. First, he cast non-verbally to push Miss Granger onto her rear. The result was less forceful than he'd hoped, only causing her to wobble on her feet, but it afforded him enough time to perform his next spell.
Concentrating on the first time Lily had hugged him and called him her best friend, Severus waved his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
His luminous doe Patronus burst forth from his wand's tip, then elegantly trotted over to him, bowing her head in greeting.
Miss Granger gaped, her eyes darting back and forth between his reclaimed wand and the silvery doe standing between them. Although no longer a Legilimens, Severus could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she connected what Harry had divulged to the Dark Lord during the battle with what she was witnessing now.
He focused on an image of Harry's face and said, "You are needed in Ronald Weasley's bedroom."
The doe galloped away, phasing right through the floor.
Miss Granger visibly trembled with a mixture of astonishment and fearful comprehension. "P-Professor Snape?" she asked hesitantly.
Severus nodded in confirmation.
"I don't understand," she continued. "If you're here, then where's Ron?"
"That, I do not know," he answered. "I can tell you we are not inhabiting the same body. The only presence I feel is my own."
Her hand flew to her mouth as she inhaled sharply. "Did I do this? Mixing potions in untried ways? Did I somehow overlook something?"
"I can assure you, Miss Granger, that the combination of Elixir of Last Hope, Liquid Luck, and Vitalis Draught could not have resulted in this," Severus stated, gesturing towards himself.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Harry stormed into the room, his expression desperate.
"Where is he?" Harry asked, confused.
"Professor Snape?" Miss Granger said, her voice still tinged with doubt.
Harry nodded.
"Well then, he's right there," replied Miss Granger, pointing at Severus.
"What?" Harry said, looking baffled, seeing only Ronald Weasley. After thinking for a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but Severus, anticipating the question, quickly interrupted.
"If you were going to ask if I have taken Polyjuice Potion, then the answer is no."
"But…but how can this be?" Harry asked. "When I glanced at the clock, all the Weasleys were shown being 'Home' except for Fred."
"Is Fred's hand still on it?" Miss Granger asked.
"No," replied Harry with a soft, sad smile. "And it's not simply a wall clock anymore; it now resembles the body of a cuckoo clock. It was quite something when it randomly played "Pop Goes the Weasel" with emerging dancers, broom riders, animals, and a small fireworks display. The clock has already activated twice so far. No one's tried to stop it or change it back. I doubt anyone has the heart to try."
With a sinking feeling, Severus recalled his body's earlier two embarrassing, inappropriate physical reactions and had an idea of what might be triggering the clock.
"If only Fred Weasley's hand is missing," Severus began, "then the clock's enchantment must be based on blood magic, not innate magic, which further confirms that this is indeed Ronald Weasley's body."
"Perhaps Ron's soul is also in another body," Miss Granger suggested hopefully.
Harry slowly nodded in agreement. However, everyone remained silent for a moment, not wanting to contemplate the other possibility.
"We need to tell the others," she said, breaking their verbal stalemate.
"Do you think that wise?" Severus asked.
"No. Hermione's right," Harry said firmly. "Keeping something like this quiet wouldn't be right."
Severus sighed. "Very well."
He and Harry stood back when they moved towards the door, allowing Miss Granger to exit first.
"After you," Severus said politely.
Miss Granger blushed a bright Gryffindor red and avoided further eye contact as she hurried past.
Harry glanced at him sideways but did not comment.
As Severus entered the kitchen, he saw Mrs Weasley tossing finely chopped parsley into a simmering pot.
Hearing them, she looked over her shoulder. "Oh, there you are, dears. Sit down, you all look like you could use a good meal. Soup will be ready in a minute or two."
He, Harry, and Miss Granger each chose a mismatched chair and sat down.
"Where is everyone?" Harry asked.
Mrs Weasley placed two sliced loaves of hearty bread on the table, her movements thoughtful yet warm like the food itself. "Arthur and Percy have popped over to the Ministry," she said, sounding slightly weary. "They're dealing with Fred's death certificate. With the Ministry in such disarray, it seemed wise to start sorting through that mess sooner rather than later. Bill and Fleur have returned to Shell Cottage to gather some things, and Charlie's out ensuring the family plot is ready… George, well, George has shut himself away in his room for now, and Ginny's upstairs, freshening up."
"Mrs Weasley," Miss Granger said softly, "I think you should sit down. We need to tell you something."
Concern overtook Mrs Weasley's face, and she hurried to stir the soup a few times before joining them at the table.
"Is everything alright, dears?" she asked once settled.
After a short pause, Miss Granger burst into tears. Harry wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.
"Mrs Weasley," Severus said, causing her to snap her head in his direction, "it pains me to say this, but your son Ronald Weasley is missing."
"Ronald—" she began irritatedly, but he cut her off.
"I may appear to be your son, but I am not. This is his body, but it does not contain his soul."
Her eyes narrowed at his words, and her fingers twitched toward her wand. She glanced at the clock, expecting to see her son's hand over 'Mortal Peril' or 'Lost', but when she saw it pointing at 'Home', a hint of belief took root amid her shocked realisation.
"It's true, Mrs Weasley," Miss Granger asserted shakily, using a napkin to wipe away tears. "He's really Professor Snape. But please, it's not what you might think. Professor Snape didn't cause this. He's good, a hero, even."
Harry nodded in agreement.
Severus wanted to scoff at their naive assumptions but remained silent.
"We're still piecing it together," Miss Granger admitted, "but all signs suggest this was not intentional. It seems more likely to be just some sort of magical mishap."
"Ron might be…his soul might be stuck somewhere too," Harry added, absentmindedly rubbing his faded lightning-bolt scar.
Turning her sceptical gaze away from Severus, Mrs Weasley's face softened, and she said, "Harry, Hermione, you know I trust your judgment. But all this talk about souls and bodies as if souls were plants to be uprooted and replanted willy-nilly… That is a lot to take in, even by wizarding standards."
"I understand," Harry said. "It is a lot. But Hermione and I have encountered soul magic before on our journey to defeat Voldemort. We've seen firsthand that it's possible for souls to be transferred, sometimes even accidentally." His gaze briefly met Severus', underscoring his point with a significant look.
"I think our first step should be checking St Mungo's," Miss Granger suggested, "and then we can go from there."
Mrs Weasley's eyes drifted worriedly towards the ceiling, likely considering George's current emotional state. "Perhaps it would be best if I stayed here for now. Besides, someone will need to inform the rest." She gave the table a firm pat with both hands, then rose to her feet and said, "But I insist you all have a bit to eat before you go; otherwise, you're prone to being admitted to St Mungo's yourselves."
A trio of bowls with steaming soup floated onto the table.
"Tuck in, you three," Mrs Weasley instructed, and without hesitation, they did.