The Places We'll Go
(Title inspiration from Dr Seuss' Oh, the Places You'll Go!)
St Mungo's resembled a chaotic, overstuffed beige meat pie. The reception area was filled to the brim with conjured chairs, sofas, and even four-poster beds; lost, confused, or would-be patients; and worried loved ones. Aurors took up additional space, positioning themselves threateningly to keep everyone in check. The reason for the crowd became evident when Severus saw the incredibly long queue of people waiting to speak to the welcome witch, who felt far from welcoming based on her demeanour.
Not missing a beat, Miss Granger pulled Harry by the arm like a trophy husband and cut to the front of the queue.
"Excuse me," she said to attract the welcome witch's attention, ignoring the disgruntled utterances around them. "Has anyone admitted today mentioned that they were Ronald Weasley, or perhaps, been diagnosed with…possession?"
The welcome witch looked as if she was going to tell Miss Granger off until she noticed Harry. Her eyes widened.
"M-Mr Potter," the witch stuttered, raising a hand to neaten her blonde hair.
Miss Granger's expectant stare at the witch was so penetrating that Severus felt a newfound admiration for her.
"Ronald Weasley," the witch repeated. Glancing at Severus, she did a double-take. "Wait a second. I saw you in the Prophet. Aren't you Ronald Weasley, Undesirable No. 2?"
"Madam, the war is over," Harry said assertively, reminding the witch that he was the one who had defeated the Dark Lord. "Please, could you see to what Hermione asked?"
Flustered, the witch hurried to check the long list before her.
"No," she answered a few moments later. "No one by that name or suffering from possession."
"How about in a coma?" asked Miss Granger desperately.
"There are eleven, but only three were admitted today."
"Any from the battle at Hogwarts?" Severus asked.
"No. Because of the influx here, Healer-in-Charge Smethwyck thought it best to send Healers there."
Harry inhaled a slow, deep breath and asked, "What about the dead? Where are they being kept?"
"That would be the mortuary, Mr Potter. But you must find a Healer willing to accompany you if you want access there."
"Could you please call someone for us?" he asked, his eyes taking on a manipulative, forlorn quality.
In that moment, Severus thought Harry could almost pass for a Slytherin.
Sighing, the welcome witch tapped her wand on a grumpy gnome figurine paperweight. Glaring, it stood and stepped aside, revealing a black button she pressed. "Wait there," she instructed them, pointing to the area to the right of her desk.
They complied, and a few minutes later, an exhausted Healer approached.
"You rang, Madam Holloway," he said to the welcome witch.
She gestured to them and said, "They need an escort to The Vault."
"Right," replied the Healer. "For examination, identification, or collection?" he asked them, raising his eyebrows.
Harry, unsure of what to say, glanced at Severus and Miss Granger for guidance.
Beyond the classroom, Severus had little acquaintance with Weasley. Nonetheless, Weasley was Harry's best friend, and Harry, having grown close to the Weasley family, would be better suited to identify him and discern what steps to take next. "I shall leave it to your discretion, Mr Potter."
Upon hearing Severus' words, Harry grimaced. But reassured by Miss Granger's encouraging nod, he said, "I'm not sure. Possibly all of them."
The Healer grunted in acknowledgement and marked his clipboard. Then, without another glance at them, he began to walk away. "Follow me," he said, heading towards the lifts.
They weaved through the ever-moving crowd as they followed the Healer's lime-green-clad form.
Taking a page from Miss Granger's playbook, the Healer cut to the front of the queue of people waiting to go upstairs. "Official St Mungo's business," he declared, pressing the already-lit lift button impatiently.
A few seconds later, the lift arrived. The Healer waved the three of them inside, then held his hand up to stop others from entering.
As they ascended, the Healer presented them with a sheet of parchment with columns of signatures. "I'll need you all to sign here," he stated, offering a utilitarian quill. "A preventative measure against Necromancy and hag activity."
Miss Granger thoroughly examined the document before signing, earning Severus' approval. Harry followed suit, albeit with much less scrutiny. However, when it was Severus' turn, he hesitated, unsure of which name to use.
Hedging his bets, with a flourish, he signed Severus Weasley, happy to be rid of his father's name.
When they reached the fifth floor, instead of the front opening, a door appeared on their right and slid open, revealing a dim, cold hallway. The air was devoid of any scent, and silence hung heavy around them as though they were enveloped in the vacuum of space.
Severus noticed the hallway gradually brightening with light as they travelled toward the only visible door at its end.
Once they were in front of the ebony door embellished with wrought iron, the Healer knocked twice, paused, and then knocked thrice more.
A small viewing door abruptly opened at knee level, and the bulbous ice-blue eyes of a house-elf quickly inspected them. A fraction of a second later, the larger door swung open.
"Klimsy is happy to see Healer Gwynn"—her ears flapped excitedly—"and honoured to meet the kind Harry Potter and his friends. Please, come in."
Severus stepped inside and blinked. The room looked like it had been donated by a wealthy, pure-blood family from one of their opulent manors. A grand chandelier dangled overhead; white marble spanned the floors; and the walls were adorned with wood panelling alongside a mural, which depicted Persephone's journey either leaving or returning to Hades and the underworld, depending on one's interpretation of the work.
It all stood in stark contrast to the rows of preserved cadavers and, in sadder circumstances where little to no remains could be collected, the conjured hollow simulacra. Each was veiled beneath a crisp white sheet, their diverse lives ultimately culminating in a single clipboard attached to the foot of each table.
"How can Klimsy be helping you?" she chirped.
"Hello, Klimsy," Miss Granger greeted warmly. "Is there—" She swallowed hard before starting again. "Is there a Ronald Weasley here or someone who was possessed when they died?"
Klimsy slowly shook her head no and said, "Klimsy doesn't think so." Looking eager, she added, "But Harry Potter and his friends are welcome to check for themselves."
Healer Gwynn sighed. "I really need to get back downstairs."
Miss Granger gave him a forced smile. "We wouldn't want to keep you, Healer Gwynn. I'm sure Klimsy is more than capable of assisting us if we find ourselves needing anything."
Unsure whether her words were a gibe at him, Healer Gwynn cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well then, good day." He hurried to the exit.
Klimsy waved goodbye and resumed cleaning the already spotless room.
Severus, Harry, and Miss Granger decided to split up to check for any sign or mention of Weasley. During his search, Severus was surprised to come across Mundungus Fletcher, who had died from a mispronounced incantation, leaving only his hat and the hidden heirloom goblet inside. The goblet had been used as payment to create his simulacrum.
"Harry, Professor!" Miss Granger called out. "Over here, quickly!"
He and Harry rushed to her side. As they arrived, she folded down the sheet in front of them, causing Severus' chest to constrict.
The body of Severus Snape, his body lay pale and still.
If Weasley is indeed dead, will they bury my body in his stead or commission a simulacrum? he wondered.
Severus moved to examine the clipboard for his corpse, but Miss Granger beat him to it.
"It indicates the cause of death was exsanguination due to cervical avulsion and envenomation," she explained. "However, there's no mention of prior possession."
"Thank you for the succinct synopsis, Miss Granger," Severus muttered.
"Oh," she uttered, realising how callous it was to state his death so matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry, Professor."
Severus waved her off her apology. "Perhaps you two should examine the last row of bodies," he suggested. "I find myself in need of conducting further research here."
"All right, we'll take a look," Harry replied, giving him a supportive nod.
As they wandered off, Severus discreetly Summoned a few phials to collect samples of his body. He also performed a general diagnostic spell, although he didn't get it right until his second attempt; it confirmed the absence of foreign magic indicative of possession.
After storing his wand and samples in his pockets, Severus rejoined them. "Anything?" he asked.
"Nothing," answered Harry, sounding relieved.
"Then we should move on, Mr Potter."
Harry made a face. "Can you call me by my first name? It…it's odd"—and from his expression, he meant to say it hurts—"that the face of my best mate is calling me Mr Potter."
"Yes," Miss Granger interjected eagerly. "And please call me Hermione."
Severus sighed. "Very well. You may call me Severus if it eases your sensibilities."
Harry and Hermione grinned.
"Where to next?" Harry asked. "Muggle hospitals? Hogwarts?"
Hermione's eyebrows suddenly rose as an idea struck her. Taking a deep breath, she called out, "Kreacher, can you come here, please?"
With a pop, he appeared. "Miss Granger has called for Kreacher."
"Hello, Kreacher," Hermione greeted him, receiving a stiff bow in return.
"Kreacher," she continued, "we need your help. Ron is missing."
He glanced at Severus but didn't remark on anything.
"Could you check Hogwarts to see if Ron's there, or if someone's claiming to be him? And maybe ask a few of the house-elves if they're willing to help search?"
"Kreacher does not need to check," he said, to everyone's surprise. "Kreacher has seen Mr Weasley hiding away in the kitchens."
All of their heartbeats sped up.
"Are the anti-Apparation enchantments still down?" Severus asked.
"No, Mr-Weasley-Not-Weasley," Kreacher said, shaking his head. "The Aurors and Professors have placed new ones."
"What about the Floo Network?" Harry suggested.
Severus shook his head and said, "If they are re-enacting security measures, I highly doubt it."
"Best we Apparate and walk then," Hermione said.
"Klimsy can help," she offered, wringing her hands. "Klimsy can take you right to the kitchens. Klimsy is used to moving bodies and can take two at a time."
"And, er, we'll arrive alive, right?" Harry double-checked.
"Oh, yes, Harry Potter, sir. Souls weigh nothing at all," she said in all seriousness, causing Severus to crack a smile.
Since Severus had the bulkier body of the three, Kreacher Apparated with him while Klimsy took Harry and Hermione.
When they arrived less than a second later, the smell of fresh bread filled Severus' nostrils, and he heard the chatter of house-elves as they busied themselves with baking, roasting, and sautéing.
Harry and Hermione thanked Klimsy before she left to return to St Mungo's, and with her departure, they refocused on their purpose.
"Ron!" Hermione's voice rang out urgently, with Harry quickly joining in. "Ron!"
Kreacher pointed a spindly finger behind them.
With hope on their faces, they turned around to find the transparent ghost of Ronald Weasley hovering above a house-elf preparing a roast.
Hermione's legs trembled beneath her as she let out a gasp, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in shock. "No," she moaned, her eyes filling with tears in pained denial. Harry wrapped his arms around her, trying to provide comfort and support as she struggled to stay standing. Shaking with emotion himself, he buried his head in her neck.
Severus grimaced; their immense sorrow radiated from them, searing him with its intensity.
Noticing them, Ronald's eyes grew large, and he floated across the room towards them.
Hermione broke free from Harry's hold and rushed forward to meet him.
Ronald reached for her cheek and softly said, "Hermione." Sadly, his hand passed right through her.
"Ronald, why are you here?" she asked angrily. "Why didn't you move on?"
"I…I couldn't let myself leave you again," he replied, crystalline tears falling down his cheeks.
"I think we should give them a moment," Harry whispered into Severus' ear.
Severus nodded, and they moved to a quiet corner near the hearths.
"Harry," Severus said, capturing his attention immediately, "perhaps we should return to the Burrow to inform the Weasleys about the unfortunate circumstances."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "We should."
After a few more minutes, they approached Hermione, who was sitting on a prep table with her legs dangling off its side. Ronald sat beside her but didn't quite touch the table's surface.
Harry caught his breath sharply as he tried not to break down in sobs. He swallowed and then cleared his throat. "Severus and I are going to head back to let everyone know."
"All right," Hermione said hoarsely. "I…I think I'll stay here for now."
Harry gave her an understanding nod, and they shared a tight hug. Pulling away, he dabbed at his eyes with a sleeve.
"Mate," Ronald said, trying to lighten the mood, "there's no need for tears, alright? I might be gone, but I'm not properly gone. We can still chat about Quidditch, and hey, we can even play wizard chess. You'll just have to help me with my pieces, yeah?"
"Yeah, Ron," Harry said with a weak smile. "I'd like that. I just wish I could hug you, too."
"Me too, mate," Ronald replied softly. "Me too."
After Ronald jokingly commented, "You know, Professor, you're looking quite dashing for a change," Severus and Harry left the kitchens to begin their long walk past the gates where they could Disapparate.
Tired of watching Harry soil his sleeves with his snot and tears, Severus conjured him a handkerchief.
"Thanks," Harry said, wiping his face.
Pocketing the handkerchief, Harry smiled at him, and Severus felt his heart squeeze.
As soon as they left Hogwarts' boundary, they Disapparated to the Burrow with two consecutive cracks.
They hurried inside to discover Mrs Weasley standing by the kitchen basin. Seeing their expressions, she placed her hand, still clutching a tea towel, against her chest, bracing herself for the bad news.
Once Severus and Harry informed her about Ronald's death and subsequent ghosthood, Mrs Weasley sprang into action. First, she went upstairs to speak with George and Miss Weasley, who hurried downstairs with her afterwards. Next, she sent a message via her Patronus to Mr Weasley and Percy, while George reached out to William and Mrs Delacour, and Miss Weasley contacted Charles.
"Dears," Mrs Weasley said, addressing Severus and Harry at the kitchen table, "there are plenty of leftovers in the cupboard, so help yourselves."
"Don't you want us to come with you?" Harry asked, looking at George and Miss Weasley as they pulled on their coats.
"You've already done so much," Mrs Weasley said. "I want you two to rest; you've been on your feet for far too long. I'll send word if anything new pops up."
As if Mrs Weasley had cast a spell, Severus became keenly aware of his tiredness after they'd left. He covered his mouth to hide a yawn.
"I think I might have caused this," Harry said unexpectedly. He sighed. "Or, at least, I contributed to it."
"How so?" asked Severus, raising an eyebrow.
"Remember, on our way to the Headmaster's office, I mentioned how I became the Master of Death. What I haven't told anyone is that while Hermione was trying to save Ron and I was watching, terrified he'd die, I was also thinking about you. How I wished I hadn't witnessed your death since I was possibly having to experience another so soon with Ron. Basically, I had passing thoughts about how I'd rather you hadn't died."
"It's a…plausible hypothesis," Severus said, nodding thoughtfully. "A spark of intention the moment Ronald's soul exited his body backed up by ancient, powerful magic, along with the combination of potions Hermione gave, could have lent itself to my return."
"Do you think we should tell Hermione?" Harry asked.
"I shall leave that to you. You know her best."
Harry nodded, thinking, then smiled slightly. "Right. Thanks."
As the hours ticked by and the sunlight outside waned, they shared a meal, read in the living room, and even chatted further, keeping the conversation light. Periodically, one of them would have a sheen of tears appear in their eyes, leading to moments of silence until they regained their composure. Severus noted the effortless flow of their dialogue, suspecting Harry often forgot he was speaking to him and not Ronald.
Suddenly, the front door opened, and a weary line of Weasley family members entered, followed by Hermione, pale and gaunt. One by one, they noticed Severus sitting beside Harry on the sofa. Some paused with hope, seemingly wanting to run towards him until reality hit and they remembered who he really was; others immediately looked away, pain etched on their faces.
Most passed them with a quick greeting and settled themselves in the kitchen or upstairs; meanwhile, Hermione remained and squeezed between Severus and Harry, compelling them to make room. She looked despondently at Severus before taking Harry's hand and resting her head on his shoulder with a deep sigh.
A few minutes later, she was asleep, breathing steadily.
Harry yawned, the fourth time in as many minutes. "Reckon I'm done for the night," he whispered, careful not to wake Hermione as he eased himself up. "Gonna go upstairs to catch some sleep," he added, turning towards Severus. "You're welcome to join; Ron's room has enough space for two of us."
Completely knackered, both mentally and physically, Severus nodded in agreement, feeling relieved at Harry's invitation.
Before leaving, they made Hermione more comfortable by lifting her legs onto the cushions, positioning a pillow under her head, and covering her with a blanket. Then, ascending the living room stairs, they moved silently to avoid disturbing the heavy sense of mourning around them.
Upon reaching the second-floor landing, Harry whispered, "Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?"
"By all means," Severus replied softly with a teasing hint of sarcasm. "It would indeed be remiss to deny the saviour of the wizarding world preferential treatment to any bathroom."
Recognising Severus' dry wit, Harry couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Severus.
Exhilaration coursed through him at hearing Harry speak his name with such ease, and he swiftly masked his grin of pleasure with a neutral expression.
After Lily's death, he vowed never to truly follow the Dark Lord again. The Dark Lord had squandered his initial power and, upon his subsequent resurrection, was consumed by the pursuit of vengeance for past wrongs.
Given his own second chance, Severus resolved to be different. He would let go of past animosities. He would shed the Marauders' hold on him and the label of Death Eater.
He would move forward. He was moving forward.
While Harry made his way down the hallway to the bathroom, Severus stepped into Ronald's room and went straight to the wardrobe to select clean sleepwear. He avoided anything in red and gold because, as a Head of Slytherin, wearing them would be tantamount to sacrilege. Ultimately, he opted for soft cotton pyjamas with a faded, tattersall checkered pattern in blue.
Severus placed his chosen clothes on the bed where Hermione had earlier accosted him, then, out of habit, began to tidy the room, starting with Vanishing any accumulated dust.
When Harry later opened the door, Severus turned to look, thinking nothing of it. However, his breath hitched as he caught sight of Harry freshly showered with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
As the faint sound of a cuckoo clock filtered into the room, he realised, to his utter shock, that, unlike his old heterosexual self, Ronald Weasley had been bisexual.