Chapter 13: Resolve
"Ready, Hermione?"
"Not really," Hermione said, giving her boyfriend a tremulous smile, "but we might as well get this over with, right?" She took a deep breath and followed Professor McGonagall into Headmaster Dumbledore's office, drawing courage and comfort from Harry and Ron, both of whom were clutching one of her hands in support. She walked into the office and gasped at what she saw.
There, huddled close together on a couch and looking straight back at her were her parents, Richard and Jane Granger. They looked exhausted, frightened and dishevelled, but very much alive.
Hermione let out a squeal of joy, breaking off from Harry and Ron so she could rush towards her parents. They stood to greet her, and her father opened his arms in invitation. Hermione gladly accepted, burying her face in his shoulder and allowing him to wrap his arms around her.
"Hello, poppet," her father said warmly.
"Oh, daddy, I'm so glad to see you," Hermione said with a sniffle. "I was so worried about you guys." Her dad held her tighter as she trembled with relief.
"We're fine, dear," her mum reassured her as she bent to plant a kiss in Hermione's hair.
"I-I saw the house," Hermione said quietly as she pulled back to look at her parents. "Were you guys out, or..."
"No, we were home," her dad answered. "Your professor, Snape, saved us."
"SNAPE?" Harry and Ron bellowed in unison, astonished.
"Indeed, Professor Snape escorted Mister and Missus Granger to safety," Dumbledore said from his seat behind his desk, a familiar twinkle in his eye. "After leaving them in a secure location while he attended to some important business, he then brought them here, and I in turn summoned Miss Granger for this happy reunion."
"I...think we're going to need a bit more explanation than that," Hermione said, nearly as surprised as her two friends were. Behind her, Harry and Ron nodded fervently.
"Yes, feel free to share your story, Mister and Missus Granger," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Before you do, however, why don't you all have a seat and make yourselves comfortable?"
Hermione's parents sat back down on the couch they'd been sitting on when the teens arrived, and Hermione, wishing to be as close to them as possible at the moment, claimed a spot in between them. Dumbledore quickly conjured a pair of chairs for Harry and Ron, who plopped down and prepared to listen. Once he saw that everyone was settled in and looking at he and his wife expectantly, Hermione's father started the tale.
"We were relaxing in the sitting room when two men in black robes and masks, your professor and another, broke down the front door and burst inside," Richard began.
"The other man was Charles Goyle, father of your schoolmate Gregory," Dumbledore supplied before anyone could inquire about his identity. "Lord Voldemort summoned Professor Snape, as you know, and charged he and Goyle with murdering your parents." Hermione shuddered involuntarily at those words, but calmed slightly when she felt her mum lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. She gave herself a mental shake and turned her head to listen as her father continued.
"The other man, upon seeing us, immediately started shouting at us, threatening to kill us, et cetera. I stood up and pulled Jane behind me so I could protect her, but I knew it was probably going to end badly when I saw he had a wand. No matter how fast I would have moved, I was too far away to get to him before he would have been able to fire a spell at me. I probably would have tried it anyway, but before either of us could make a move, your professor hit the other wizard from behind with a spell to the back and knocked him out."
"A standard stunning spell," Dumbledore broke in to add. "Goyle never sat it coming."
"So Snape's on our side after all?" Ron said, almost to himself.
"He is indeed, Mister Weasley," Dumbledore said with a nod and a smile. "I have long insisted that I have the utmost faith in Severus, and I would hope that after today, all of you will share that trust."
"Yeah, I guess maybe I misjudged Snape," Harry said, though he didn't sound totally convinced, "but there's still something I don't get."
"And what might that be, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"Mister Granger said that Snape and Goyle were the only two that came in. So, if Snape stunned Goyle before he could do anything, who burned Hermione's house down?"
"Why, it was Professor Snape, of course," Dumbledore answered.
"WHAT? Why would he do that?" Ron shouted, outraged. Hermione did not speak, but she certainly shared her friend's anger.
"It is imperative that Professor Snape remain in Lord Voldemort's confidence, both for our war efforts and for his own safety," Dumbldore explained. "He needed to submit a plausible excuse to the Dark Lord as to how two fully-trained adult wizards could possibly fail to kill two ordinary, unsuspecting muggles. Thus, after allowing the Grangers to pack their essential belongings inside a bottomless bag, he set the house aflame before apparating the three of them away, leaving Goyle behind to perish. When he later gave his report to Voldemort, he blamed Goyle for the failure, claiming he was overzealous and started a fire he could not control. Goyle had a less than stellar reputation, so the Dark Lord believed his tale."
"Why did he need to kill Goyle at all, though?" Hermione asked. "Couldn't Professor Snape have just performed a memory charm on him and made him believe he'd botched the mission in some other way?"
"Too risky," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Voldemort is a master legilimens, and if his poor reputation is to be believed, Goyle had virtually no defences to speak of. Had Voldemort decided to use occlumency to verify the story, he would have broken through the false memory quite easily, and Professor Snape's life would have been all but forfeit. No, Mister Goyle had to die, as much as it pains me to say so."
"That makes sense," Harry admitted. "But why burn the house down? Couldn't he have just killed him with magic, and left the house alone?"
"Alas, no," Dumbledore said. "Had any of Voldemort's people decided to examine Goyle's body, a cursory scan would have revealed that he'd been killed through magical means, and that obviously would have led straight back to Severus. But by burning down the house, he disposed of Goyle's body, leaving nothing for the Death Eaters to retrieve."
"I understand Professor Snape's motives, but this still creates another problem. Where are my parents—and me as well, when I'm on break from Hogwarts—going to stay now that our house is gone?" Hermione asked, trying not to show how much she was affected by the loss of the only home she'd ever known. She evidently wasn't successful, because her mum gave her an understanding pat on the knee.
"For the time being, they will live in the ancestral home of a certain Mister Black, which you are already familiar with," Dumbledore said. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disapproval, which Dumbledore did not miss. "I am aware that it is not the most hospitable of homes, but they will be perfectly safe there, and I think we can all agree that safety should be our foremost consideration at the present time." Hermione had no choice but to nod in agreement at that, but it still wasn't an ideal solution in her opinion. Sensing her daughter's unhappiness, Jane Granger attempted to reassure her.
"It won't be so bad, sweetheart," Mrs. Granger said. "We were able to bring along all of our irreplaceable things, and your father and I have plenty of money saved up, so we can afford to shut down our practice for now. It'll be a nice little vacation for us," she finished, smiling encouragingly at her daughter. Hermione still wasn't thrilled about the idea of residing in 12 Grimmauld Place for any real length of time, but as long as it kept her parents safe and sound, she could deal with it. She gave her mother a smile and a nod, which seemed to make both of her parents happy.
Seeing that the explanation surrounding the attack on the Grangers had wrapped up, Ron decided to voice his own question. "Headmaster, Harry and Hermione told me that Gringotts was attacked. H-have you heard anything about my brother Bill?" he asked nervously. The smile which had graced Dumbledore's face disappeared, and he shook his head sadly.
"Unfortunately not, Mister Weasley," Dumbledore said quietly. "The goblins are understandably wary following the attack, and are refusing to allow any non-goblins to assist them at the moment, so I do not yet have nearly as much information as I would like. I do hope to hear from a goblin representative within the next several hours, so with any luck, I will be able to provide you with a more concrete answer soon."
Ron nodded, knowing he couldn't expect any better than that for the time being. With all of the important details having been covered, the meeting soon broke off. Harry and Ron agreed to a game of chess, partly so they could catch up after several weeks of awkwardness, but also to give Hermione some time alone with her parents. Harry knew full well that he was about to be thoroughly trounced, but seeing the happy smile on Hermione's face as he gave her a farewell kiss, he couldn't bring himself to care.
-NMM-
In the wee hours of the morning, Dumbledore received the floo call that he'd anticipated. Moments later, he welcomed Ragnok, a goblin of some renown, into his private chambers. Understanding the nature of goblins, particularly when their ire is raised, Dumbledore did away with the customary pleasantries that would have been expected were he conversing with an esteemed wizard and got straight to business.
"Ragnok, I believe I can assume you are here regarding the attack on Gringotts?"
"Yes," the goblin curtly replied.
"And may I also assume that you speak in an official capacity?"
"Yes," the goblin repeated. "I speak with the voice of the goblin nation."
"That is good to hear," Dumbledore said. "On behalf of our own government, I wish to formally apologise for our failure to assist you in your-"
"The goblin nation has no need for your apologies, Mister Dumbledore," Ragnok said, and Dumbledore perceived a fire of fury in his eyes. "The failure lies with the goblin nation, and the goblin nation alone. We accept all of the blame for our failure to defend our territory and property."
"That is very noble of you," Dumbledore said, though he was not surprised when his words failed to placate the angry goblin. "And if I may be frank, Ragnok, I must say that I was rather surprised when I heard just how successful Lord Voldemort's strike was, given the strength and tenacity of the goblin nation."
"If he had attacked us head-on, he would have been crushed!" Ragnok snarled, as angry as Dumbledore had ever seen any goblin up close. "Your Dark Lord Voldemort succeeded only through treachery!"
"Treachery? What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, pleased that he was about to learn more.
"We were betrayed by one of our own. A goblin named Urg, who has brought great shame on that ancient and respected name," Ragnok said, his temper controlled just barely. "He sabotaged many of Gringotts' defensive measures, turning them against us and creating chaos and disorder just as the attack was beginning. He also disabled our alert systems, which prevented us from summoning reinforcements to help deal with the invaders. Your cowardly Dark Lord had already fled with his stolen gold long before we could undo the damage caused by our traitor."
"I see. This certainly sounds like a tactic Tom would employ," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "And what has become of this traitor named Urg?"
"He fled, along with his master," Ragnok spat. "But he cannot hide from us forever. We will hunt him down. As long as it takes, and no matter where he goes, we will find him. And when we do, he will rue the day he betrayed the goblin nation." Dumbledore did not doubt that. He knew goblins well enough to know that should Urg ever be apprehended, the brand of justice he would be subjected to would be horrifying indeed.
Pushing thoughts of Urg to the side, Dumbledore switched topics. "How badly was Gringotts damaged? Will it have to be shut down for any length of time?"
"The damage done to Gringotts itself will take time and gold to fix, but it is not so bad as to shut us down entirely. The greater losses were in the number of employees murdered, but the goblin nation will unite to overcome this adversity. We will resume operations this morning at our usual time."
"Is that an estimate?"
"It is not an estimate. It is a fact," Ragnok stated firmly.
"That is very good to hear," Dumbledore said. "This war will be damaging enough to our economy, but if Gringotts were to cease functioning, the results would be disastrous. It is reassuring to know that our goblin friends will not allow this attack to keep them down."
"No, we will not," Ragnok agreed. "We also will not allow this disgrace to stand."
"I am afraid I do not understand, Ragnok."
"When Gringotts was breached, our attackers robbed us of something far more valuable than mere gold. They stole our reputation. They humiliated the goblin nation, and we do not take well to humiliation. Prior to this attack, we were content to place restrictions on our dealings with known Death Eaters and criminals, and otherwise allow you humans to fight your war amongst yourselves. But this is no longer an option. Your Dark Lord and his minions have embarrassed us, and our honour demands that we repay them for what they have done."
"Are you saying that the goblin nation will join with us in the fight against Voldemort?"
"Join you? Not exactly. We will fight our enemy on our terms, and utilize whatever tactics we feel are necessary. That said, we realise that we share a common enemy, and acknowledge that it may be to our benefit to work alongside you in certain situations. But it must be understood that no matter what the circumstances, the goblin nation will not answer to any human commands or orders. We may work with you in this war, but we will never work for you."
"I understand completely," Dumbledore assured the goblin representative. "But why approach me, Ragnok? Why not make your intentions known to Minister Fudge?"
"Fudge is no fighter. In times such as these, your kind will look to you for leadership, Albus Dumbledore, and so it is you who we will deal with when the time comes."
"I see. I look forward to working alongside the goblin nation in order to stop this grave danger that threatens us all," Dumbledore said earnestly. Ragnok, having evidently said all he needed to say, stood up and prepared to make his exit. Before he could do so, Dumbledore recalled another matter he needed to ask about.
"Ragnok, before you leave, may I inquire if you are familiar with a wizard named William Weasley? He is an employee of Gringotts, you see, and his family is very..."
"I know who he is, " Ragnok cut him off. "He was killed during the robbery. Weasley acquitted himself well, however, if the pair of dead Death Eaters we found alongside him are any indication. The goblin race will not forget his sacrifice."
-NMM-
It was a pleasant October day in Ottery St. Catchpole, but Ron Weasley's mood did not match the weather. How could it? He was saying goodbye to his 25-year old brother.
He would never have owned up to it before, but Ron was now mature enough to admit that he had felt jealous of Bill at times when he was younger. Prefect, Head Boy, curse breaker—Bill had set the standard, and Ron feared he wouldn't be able to live up to it. He'd eventually come to realise that he needed to follow his own path, rather than trying to emulate Bill's. That was why he'd had no problem giving up his spot as prefect and becoming quidditch captain instead. Still, even if he'd accepted the fact that he needed to make his own way in the world, Ron had never stopped looking up to and admiring his eldest brother.
Now he was gone, ripped away from those who loved him far too soon. No matter what happened from then on, the Weasley family would never quite be whole.
It was a very small and intimate gathering that had assembled to bury Bill Weasley. There was Ron's parents, who looked broken and lost, as if they couldn't comprehend the reality of the situation. All of his siblings were there, including Charlie, who had gotten time off from the dragon reserve to attend. Charlie, now the oldest of the Weasley children, was crying openly. Fred and George, normally so fun and cheerful, were uncharacteristically sad. Their frowns and reddened eyes looked completely out of place on their faces. Ginny was sitting beside Ron and crying into his shoulder as he had his arm wrapped around her small frame, offering whatever comfort he could. Even Percy was there, sitting slightly apart from his family and looking both devastated and uncomfortable. Ron wasn't sure exactly how Percy's reunion with his estranged family had gone, since he'd still been at Hogwarts, but he followed the rest of his family's lead by ignoring Percy and allowing him to grieve for his lost brother without incident.
Harry and Hermione had both offered to come in support, but Dumbledore and the Order decided it would be too big a security risk for Harry to leave Hogwarts at the moment. That didn't mean the funeral was a Weasley-exclusive affair, though. A few of Bill's business associates and friends from his Hogwarts days had shown up, as had Remus Lupin, Tonks, Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt from the Order.
And, of course, there was Fleur. Bill's fiancée was surrounded by her parents and her younger sister, but that didn't prevent any of the Weasleys from hearing her sobs throughout the ceremony. How ironic that it took the murder of Bill, and seeing first-hand just how much it devastated Fleur, to get his mum and Ginny to finally warm up to the beautiful veela. Even though she would no longer become a Weasley in name, she was now part of the family in spirit.
Despite the sadness of the day, Ron did not have it in him to cry. It's not that he was embarrassed or ashamed to show his emotions—he was simply too angry. Instead of grieving for his brother, he was thinking of how best to avenge him, how best to honour his memory.
Ron knew that Harry was at the forefront of this war. Even if You-Know-Who wasn't so focused on killing him, and even if the prophecy didn't exist, Harry would still throw himself into the fire. It was just part of his nature—his 'saving people thing', as Hermione had called it. And Ron was going to be right there by his side, watching his back. Ron would do whatever he could to help Harry stop that bastard, and if he took out a few Death Eaters along the way, he wasn't about to complain.
-NMM-
"Who do you think the instructor will be this time?" Hermione asked, drawing Harry's attention away from observing the other students who had shown up for the latest Advanced Defence meeting.
"Dunno," Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Lupin's great in our regular Defence class, so hopefully it'll be him." Harry looked to Ron, expecting his best mate to agree, but Ron seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
Unfortunately for Harry, it wasn't Remus Lupin who walked into the Room of Requirement. Instead, it was Severus Snape who entered the room to oversee the meeting. Harry heard several students around him, Ron included, groan or murmur in disappointment at having to deal with the dour potions professor. Inwardly, he shared their feelings. One of the highlights of Harry's school year thus far had been not having to interact with the head of Slytherin any longer. But, reminding himself that Hermione's parents were still alive because of Snape's actions, Harry resolved to be on his best behaviour.
"The Headmaster has asked me to run today's meeting," Snape said without preamble as he walked to the front of the room. The students, being well-acquainted with the temper of the potions master, quickly grew silent lest they make him angry. "He says that the first meeting was a definite success, and that those who attended seem to grasp the importance of the subject matter. Today, we shall see if he is correct. Split into pairs and spread out across the room."
The students did as ordered, hastily pairing off. Harry partnered with Hermione this time, while Ron found himself paired up with Neville.
"Very good," Snape said patronizingly once everyone had followed his instructions. "We will begin by seeing if any of you can demonstrate the most effective defence against a curse. Weasley and Longbottom, we will start with you. Longbottom will cast a spell, and Weasley will show us the best way to protect himself."
"What spell should I use?" Neville asked uncertainly, but not nearly as timidly as he previously would have when talking to Snape.
"Must I hold your hand, Longbottom?" Snape growled. "Use the first spell that comes to your mind, as long as it won't cause serious damage or see you carted off to Azkaban."
"Err...right," Neville said, before shrugging his shoulders and directing his attention towards Ron, who looked as determined as Harry had ever seen him, eyes narrowed and jaw set.
Neville fired off one of the spells they'd focused on in the DA the previous year, the disarming charm. In return, Ron bellowed "Protego!", and a well-formed shield protected him. Ron grinned in satisfaction, and Harry smiled as well, happy for his friend. Harry had never seen Ron cast such a strong-looking shield.
"Incorrect, Weasley," Snape drawled, not sounding the least bit impressed.
"What're you talking about?" Ron asked, the back of his neck and ears flushing red. "I stopped it, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did, Weasley," Snape agreed. "But that was still not the correct choice."
"What is the correct choice, then?" Ron grumbled, still upset at having his apparent success ignored. Rather than answering him, Snape approached the pair and gestured for Neville to step aside. He complied, and Snape took his place opposite Ron as the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up.
"Defend yourself, Weasley," Snape said. That was all the warning Ron got before Snape cast. Ron got his shield up once again, and it was every bit as strong as it had been before. But Snape's nonverbal spell passed right through it, and a strange purple light hit Ron in the chest and knocked him down to his knees. Harry gasped and took a half a step towards him, but relaxed when he saw Ron quickly get up off his knees, apparently just fine physically even if his pride had taken a hit.
"Longbottom, take his place," Snape ordered, and the two boys swapped positions. Neville braced himself, and Harry was very impressed at the defiant look on his face. Less than a year earlier, Neville would have been a quivering mess if Snape had pointed his wand at him.
"Defend yourself," Snape said once again, and Neville cast his own protective shield. But, just like Ron, his shield was no match for Snape's nonverbal spell. Neville's wand arm was jerked sideways, and his wand slipped from his fingers and tumbled to the floor. While Neville bent down to retrieve his wand, Snape walked away from him and towards Harry and Hermione.
"Potter, step aside," Snape demanded. Harry stilled, not wanting to put Hermione in this position. Snape may have spared the lives of Hermione's parents, but old grudges die hard, and he was still wary of the man who'd delighted in tormenting him since his very first potions lesson.
"It's fine, Harry," Hermione said quietly, placing her hand on his upper arm and giving it a squeeze. "Let me try."
Harry reluctantly backed up several paces until they had plenty of room. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and he took deep breaths to calm himself. He knew Hermione could take care of herself, and if Snape's brief demonstrations with Ron and Neville were any indication, she wasn't in any real danger anyway. Still, his 'saving people thing' was out in full force, demanding that he rush to help his girlfriend against a much more experienced opponent.
Hermione's wand went into motion the same time Snape's did. But unlike Ron and Neville, she did not attempt to protect herself with the shield charm. Instead, she used the disarming spell to try and knock Snape's wand out of his hand.
Hermione's wandwork was fast, but Snape's was even faster. Hermione suddenly doubled over and panted, holding a hand to her stomach as if she'd been punched in the gut. Harry rushed towards her, but before he could reach her, Snape waved his wand once more and Hermione quickly straightened, her breathing back to normal. She waved Harry off, and one look at her irritated face revealed that she was not in pain, but merely frustrated at her inability to disarm her opponent. Satisfied that she was OK, he stayed where he was and turned to look at Snape.
"Not a bad idea, Granger," Snape conceded, much to Harry's surprise. "Going on the offensive yourself is often a safer strategy than simply defending. But still not what I was looking for, which should be obvious since it did not work. Does anyone have the answer?" No one volunteered, and the room was silent. Once Snape realised this, his gaze fell on Harry.
"How about you, Potter? Think you can stop me?" Snape drawled. Harry shrugged his shoulders and lined up across from Snape, doing his best to look confident and prepared. Internally, he was panicking. His mind drew on all of his education, scrambling to think of a spell that would allow him to defend himself against Snape's attack, but coming up empty.
"Prepare yourself, Potter," Snape said, and moments later, he sent a nonverbal curse Harry's way. Harry still had no clue what he was expected to do, but his self-preservation instincts kicked in. He left his feet and rolled to the side, and Snape's spell collided harmlessly with one of the invisible barriers the Room of Requirement had erected around each pairing. Harry pivoted back towards Snape, expecting to have to defend himself against another attack. Instead, Snape had his wand down by his side, and he inclined his head ever so slightly in Harry's direction.
"At least one of you managed to figure it out," Snape said to the assembled students. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Potter."
Harry's jaw dropped, and he saw that Hermione and Ron were just as surprised as he was. In all the years they'd had classes with Snape, he'd almost never awarded house points to anyone outside of Slytherin, and never to Harry.
"What do you mean, Professor?" Seamus asked. "The judges would've disqualified Harry for that in any official duel."
"Duel? You aren't here to duel, Mister Finnigan," Snape said heatedly. "You are here to learn how to defend yourself in a life and death situation. Do you think the Death Eaters will obey the accepted duelling rules and regulations should you be their target? Do you think they'll give you a respectful bow and come at you one at a time?" Seamus shook his head, and Snape favoured him with a sneer. "Then get these silly notions out of your head. This isn't a game or a competition. If you're up against wizards who will stop at nothing to torture, maim and kill you, there is only one rule: survive." The students nodded their understanding, Harry among them.
"A well-cast shield charm will protect you from most incoming spells, if your magical ability is close to that of your attacker," Snape continued, "but there are some things it can't stop. And if your attacker is significantly stronger than you are, the shield is all but useless, as Weasley and Longbottom both demonstrated. The best defence against any attack is to simply avoid it if you can, but merely dodging indefinitely will quickly tire you out. The ideal response would be a combination of Potter and Granger's attempts. First, move out of range of the spell, and if possible, throw a spell of your own right back at your attacker before they can get off another." Harry looked at his former professor with new-found respect as he finished his explanation. He might be a bully, but that was excellent advice.
"Let's see how good your instincts are. Back into your pairs for drills. Attack, defend, duck, dodge, counterstrike...just don't get hit."
-NMM-
Loath though he was to admit it, even to himself, Severus Snape had just been impressed by Harry Potter.
It had been at Dumbledore's urging that Snape had been the instructor for that day's Advanced Defence meeting. He'd wanted no part of any additional time with the dunderheads and simpletons that comprised the vast majority of the student body, but Dumbledore had been adamant. He continued to insist that Snape was underestimating Harry Potter, and would be pleasantly surprised if he gave him half a chance.
Snape had remained sceptical—he felt that the rest of the Hogwarts staff, Dumbledore included, coddled the boy and exaggerated his prowess. He'd fully intended to use this meeting as an opportunity to knock the supposed saviour down a few pegs, and show his fellow students that the so-called Chosen One was not all he was cracked up to be. But Potter had surprised him by having the sense to roll out of the way of his attack. Whether Potter had analysed the situation and decided that was his best defence against a stronger opponent, or simply acted on his instincts, the fact of the matter was that he'd done exactly what he should have given the situation.
It hadn't stopped there, either. Potter had shown excellent instinct throughout the drills, using a combination of evasive manoeuvres, shields and counterattacks that enabled him to succeed far more often than any of his peers, regardless of who he was matched up against. Even when Snape had shifted the meeting away from one-on-one and into odd-numbered situations, Potter's performance had been impressive. It may have been a far cry from fighting actual Death Eaters, but Snape couldn't deny that Potter had far exceeded his expectations.
Snape had helped Dumbledore keep the boy alive for Lily's sake, in remembrance of his one true friend and the only woman he'd ever loved. But he'd always scoffed at the idea that the brat had any hope of defeating the Dark Lord, no matter how many times Dumbledore tried to convince him. What hope could a mere boy have against one of the most feared wizards of all time?
Still, Dumbledore had insisted, and he'd also insisted that his love for those close to him, particularly Hermione Granger, would be crucial to his victory. He'd spared the girl's parents for that very reason, his hatred of the Dark Lord and desire to see him destroyed winning out over his hatred for Potter and his disdain for the know-it-all—at least at the time.
Snape still wasn't sure whether it was the right decision. He still didn't share Dumbledore's blind faith in Potter's ability to accomplish the seemingly impossible. But the boy had given him something to think about.
Chapter 14: All Hallows' Eve
"Rise, Severus."
Snape rose from his kneeling position on the cold stone floor and favoured the Dark Lord with another respectful bow. "I apologise for my tardiness, My Lord," he said. "I came as soon as I was able to get away without arousing suspicion."
"There's no need for such caution, Snape," the Dark Lord said dismissively. "Dumbledore is already well aware that you report to me regularly. The old fool just doesn't realise that you aren't his spy—you're mine."
"As you say, My Lord," Snape agreed. "May I inquire as to why I was summoned?"
"Tell me, Snape: what is the significance of this day?" Voldemort asked mildly. Snape's face remained impassive, but his mind was racing. Dare he mention it?"
"Well, My Lord," he began hesitantly, "today is the anniversary of the day that you attacked the Potters in Godric's Hollow, and-"
"Exactly," Voldemort cut in. "For the past fifteen years, every single blood traitor, squib, and mudblood in this country has marked this as the day when an infant in his nappies defeated the most powerful wizard of all time. For fifteen years, today has been a day of hope and strength for our enemies. But no longer. At this time next year, our victory will have long been complete. I will hold a celebration to end all celebrations on October 31st, 1997. Harry Potter's severed head will be on display, and every witch and wizard still drawing breath in our new world will gaze upon it as they pay homage to their lord."
"I cannot wait for that day," Snape said, and Voldemort favoured him with a sinister smile.
"I know you cannot, my friend," Voldemort assured him. "Your hatred of both James Potter and his whelp are well-known to me. It will be a glorious day for us both. And I need your help to ensure it comes to pass."
"Me? How may I assist you, My Lord?"
"You may not be aware of it, but I have assigned a task to Draco Malfoy which will prove invaluable to our victory," Voldemort explained, and Snape nodded slowly.
"I am aware of it," Snape answered. "Draco's mother contacted me during the summer and begged me to assist him in his endeavour. I have approached him, several times in fact, but he has rebuffed me every time. He seems quite intent on carrying his assignment out by himself."
"Yes, I'd expected as much," Voldemort said with something akin to admiration. "Draco is eager to make up for his father's blunder in the Department of Mysteries and prove that the Malfoys remain a valuable asset for our revolution. Honestly, if Lucius possessed half his determination, Potter and his friends would have never made it out alive. Still, Draco's task is crucial to my future plans, and I cannot afford any mistakes. Fortunately, you are in close proximity, so I wish for you to ensure that Draco does not fail."
"I see," Snape replied. "And what is this task, precisely?"
"I cannot answer that," Voldemort said, shaking his head. "No matter what he might say, I would not put it past Dumbledore to probe your mind if he suspected you of betrayal. The risk is too great."
"Forgive me, My Lord, but how am I to assist young Malfoy if I remain in the dark as to his purpose?" Snape asked as deferentially as he could manage.
"You will learn everything you need to know when the time comes," Voldemort insisted. "Until then, you will simply have to place your faith in your master. Is that understood?" Snape could see that the Dark Lord was getting annoyed, and he knew that attempting to press the issue any further would be not only fruitless, but hazardous to his health.
"It is understood, My Lord," Snape said, nodding his head. "I apologize for overstepping my bounds. I suppose I am just feeling a bit anxious. You know how long I have waited to see Potter's spawn put in his place, and if Draco's assignment is truly essential, I want to do everything in my power to help him."
"Do not worry, Severus. Your time will come," Voldemort assured him. "You will get to play an integral part in the downfall of both Potter and Dumbledore, and the rise of our new world."
-NMM-
Hermione put her books away and hurried out of the library and down to the Great Hall, where she was past due to meet with Harry and Ron for the beginning of the Halloween feast. When she arrived, she spotted Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table and attacking his meal with relish, but Harry was conspicuous by his absence. She approached her tall friend, intent on finding out where her boyfriend was.
"Ron, have you seen Harry?"
Ron Weasley's cheeks bulged with food as he raised his head to look at her, and Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. Thankfully, he did her the courtesy of swallowing before he opened his mouth to respond.
"Not since our quidditch practice finished up," Ron told her. "He said he was going to do a bit of studying in the common room and would meet us down here when he was finished."
"But I'm late as it is," Hermione murmured. "There's no way I should have beaten him here. Unless..." she trailed off.
"Unless what?" Ron prompted.
"Unless he decided not to come. You have noticed that he's been quiet and withdrawn today, right?"
"I'd say he's been a moody git, actually," Ron said once he'd swallowed his pumpkin juice. "But I'm sure he'll come soon, Hermione. There's no way he'd want to miss the Halloween feast!"
"Ronald, don't you get it?" When he just looked at her blankly, Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "This isn't just Halloween for Harry. It's also the night he lost his parents." Ron grimaced as Hermione's words sank in and he realised his oversight.
"I didn't think of that," Ron admitted. "Guess I was too excited for the feast."
"I understand, Ron. Today has become such a celebration since Voldemort's fall, and I'm sure it's easy for someone who grew up in this world to forget what else happened that night," Hermione said, her tone softening as she saw the guilt flash across his face. "I think I'll head up and check on him."
"D'you want me to come with you?" Ron offered, but Hermione was shaking her head before he'd even finished asking the question.
"That's OK, Ron, I'd better do it by myself. I know how you boys are with talking about feelings and emotions," she teased, and grinned when Ron mock-scowled at her.
"Take care of him, Hermione," he said seriously, and Hermione nodded at him solemnly.
"I will. Enjoy the feast, Ron," she said, patting his shoulder before walking away, her strides quick as she rushed to be by her boyfriend's side.
With almost everyone already in the Great Hall for the feast, Hermione was free to move through the corridors unimpeded all the way to the Fat Lady's portrait. She spoke the password clearly and stepped through the hole into the Gryffindor common room as soon as it swung open. It didn't take her long to find Harry, who was seated on a couch facing the fireplace. He didn't react as she walked towards him. His eyes remained locked on the flames even as she sat down beside him on the couch and clasped his right hand between both of hers. Hermione ran her fingers across the scars on the back of Harry's right hand—the handiwork of Umbridge and her blasted blood quill—and waited patiently. Harry would speak to her when she was ready. Until then, she would offer whatever comfort he could find in her presence and her touch.
"I'm sorry. I know I've been a bit of a berk today," Harry said at last. Hermione turned her head slightly to examine him more closely. He was still looking at the fire instead of at her, but she could see that he felt guilty about the way he'd snapped at both her and Ron throughout the day.
"It's fine, Harry," she reassured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "Ron and I know you didn't mean anything by it. This must be a tough day for you."
"It's worse than usual this year," Harry admitted. "Usually I can deal with it, but..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.
"Is it because you lost Sirius?" Hermione asked, but to her surprise, Harry shook his head no.
"No, not really. I mean, maybe that's got a little bit to do with it, but it's mostly because of what's happening with you and me," Harry said. Whatever Hermione had been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn't that.
"What do you mean?" she asked, cocking her head at him. She was quite proud of herself for managing to sound so calm even while she was beginning to panic internally. 'Is he having second thoughts about being with me?' she asked herself. She waited with bated breath as Harry visibly tried to formulate his response, until finally he spoke.
"I've never really been normal," Harry started. "The Dursleys have always treated me like rubbish, and here among wizards, I'm a celebrity for something that I did when I was still in nappies. But being with you, it's shown me a little bit of what it's like to be a normal teenage boy living a normal life—a life Voldemort took away from me when he killed my parents."
Hermione, who had grown up in a happy home with loving parents, had no clue how to respond to that. She settled for climbing onto Harry's lap and wrapping her arms around him in a comforting hug. Harry hugged her back, pulling her body into his and resting his head on her shoulder. Hermione sighed in relief, happy that Harry was accepting her comfort, and also happy that he'd opened up to her. Harry tended to keep things bottled up unless forced to talk, so the fact that he'd shared his thoughts with her after very little prodding said wonders about the state of their relationship.
"I know you're probably tired of hearing this, and it doesn't make up for the fact that they're gone, but I'm sure they're very proud of you, Harry," Hermione said after several minutes of comfortable silence. He lifted his head to look at her, and her left arm unwound itself from around his body so she could caress his cheek. "Wherever they are, they're watching, and they're so proud of you, just like I am."
"They're proud of you, too," Harry said quietly, catching her by surprise. "They know, just like I do, that I wouldn't be who I am without you. Hell, I'd be dead without you."
"True, but the same is true for me," Hermione pointed out. "I'd be dead without you, too. I wouldn't be who I am if it weren't for you. I need you just as much as you need me."
"I guess it's a good thing we have each other, then," Harry said with a smile. Hermione returned the smile and dropped her hand from his cheek to pat his shoulder.
"You bet it is, Potter," she cheekily replied, before becoming serious once more. "I'm sorry you've had to grow up without them, Harry. I know you'd give anything to have them back-"
"That's not true," Harry interrupted. "I wouldn't give you up for anything," he said, his voice strong and certain. Hermione couldn't help but blush, and a pleased smile spread across her face.
"That's sweet, Harry," she said, and rewarded him with a quick kiss.
"I meant it," Harry said even as he flushed in slight embarrassment. "I miss my parents and I miss Sirius, but I've adjusted to life without them. But life without you? I can't even imagine it."
"I feel the same way, Harry" Hermione murmured. She paused briefly, debating with herself, before coming to a decision. "I love you," she said softly as she rest her forehead against his. She heard Harry's breath hitch momentarily before he was able to respond.
"You know, that's the first time someone's ever said that to me. First time I can remember, at least," Harry stated. Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears at that admission, but she resolutely blinked them away so she could see her boyfriend clearly. He looked as if he was trying to decide what to say, so she quickly spoke up.
"You don't need to feel obligated to say it back to me," Hermione assured him. "I just wanted you to know how I felt."
"No, it's not like that, Hermione," Harry started. "It's...this is just a big deal, and I was trying to think of the perfect way to say what I'm feeling, but it's just not...anyway, yeah, I do love you too. I love you, Hermione." Hermione grinned as Harry stammered his way through his confession, and gave him another kiss. This one lasted much longer. Hermione poured all of her feelings, all of her affection, all of her love for Harry into this one kiss. She was more than satisfied with the results.
Hermione broke away only when her body demanded oxygen. She sat back, panting for breath, and was quite pleased with herself when she saw the expression on Harry's face. He looked equal parts overwhelmed, breathless and excited. She loved knowing that it was her that could do this to him. Her, and only her.
"That was the perfect way to say it," Hermione said with a triumphant smirk.
-NMM-
"Welcome back, Severus. Please, have a seat."
A weary Snape did as Dumbledore requested, sitting down in a chair at the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore settled into his own seat across from him, and gave Snape a moment before speaking again.
"Would you like me to have the elves bring some food? You must be hungry after missing out on the customary Halloween feast," Dumbledore offered, but Snape shook his head.
"No, Albus. I would prefer to get through this as quickly as possible, retire to my quarters, and get a long night's sleep."
"Very well; I shall try not to keep you too long, then. How did your meeting with Lord Voldemort go? What did he speak to you about?" Dumbledore asked, getting straight to the point, much to Snape's approval.
"The date was not lost on him," Snape said. "He's quite obsessed with what happened to him on Halloween night 1981, and boasted about a grand celebration he would hold at this time next year—with Harry Potter's head as the centrepiece."
"That's markedly disturbing, even for Tom," Dumbledore remarked, his crooked nose wrinkling in disgust. Snape said nothing, and his face remained a blank slate that gave no hint as to his thoughts on the matter.
"Was that all? He usually doesn't summon you to his side unless he has something of import to discuss," Dumbledore pointed out, and Snape acknowledged the point with a nod.
"There was more, yes," Snape confirmed. "The Dark Lord asked me to assist young Malfoy, and make sure he completes his task successfully."
As he expected, those words were most interesting to Dumbledore. He leaned forward in his chair and rested his hands under his chin, giving Snape his full attention. "Did he reveal the specifics of Draco's assignment?" Dumbledore asked eagerly.
"No, he did not," Snape said, and Dumbledore's face dropped in disappointment. "He was afraid you'd try to pull the information out of my head if you caught on. Clearly, he doesn't know you half as well as I do," he grumbled, thinking about Dumbledore's insistence that he not use legilimency on Draco. "He merely wished to alert me that he'd be calling on me to help Draco when the time came."
"That is unfortunate," Dumbledore said, and he sighed. "Unless we manage to make Draco see the error of his ways before it is too late, I suppose we will just have to wait until Tom calls upon you to play your part, and then formulate a plan of action as swiftly as possible."
"There is another course of action we could take, if you'd just accept who and what Draco Malfoy has become," Snape began, but Dumbledore waved him into silence.
"We have been over this, Severus," Dumbledore said. "My answer has not changed. You are not to use legilimency on Draco, nor are you to slip him veritaserum."
"The boy cannot be saved, Dumbledore," Snape growled, frustrated with his stubborn refusal to see the truth regarding the junior Malfoy. "He does not wish to be saved. If you continue to allow him to walk the corridors of this castle unimpeded, he may complete his task, whatever it is. Why can't you see how important it is for us to find out what he's up to, by whatever means required?"
The revered Headmaster was silent for quite some time. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles as he stared down at his desk, deep in thought. For a moment, Snape started to think that perhaps he was finally facing reality.
"You may well be right about him, Severus," Dumbledore said at last. "You know him far better than I. And yet, to the best of our knowledge, Draco is still innocent of any crime. I am the Headmaster of this school, and every student here is under my protection—Draco included. If I authorize you to use such extreme measures against one of our students, one of the young men and women who parents entrust to our care, I am no better than Tom."
"And what about all of the other students who are under your protection?" Snape asked. "Draco's plot will likely put them in danger. Are you really going to gamble with the lives of every student here, all so you can try and save one Death Eater in training from a path he chose?"
"You once chose the same path, my friend," Dumbledore pointed out. "In fact, you walked further down that path than Draco has thus far. But you came to see the error of your ways, and you have redeemed yourself. Does Draco not deserve the same chance?"
"I had a reason to renounce the Dark Lord," Snape said fiercely. "He targeted and killed my best friend, the only person I have ever cared about. Draco cares for nothing and no one save perhaps his parents, and I can assure you that neither of them will ever attempt to convince Draco that defying the Dark Lord is a wise decision."
"I understand your position, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice infuriatingly serene. "Nevertheless, I am not ready to condemn young Draco just yet. I understand that you think I am making a mistake, but I feel in my heart that this is the right thing to do. Giving up on Draco and forcing the information out of him would undoubtedly be the easiest solution to our problems, but as I once told our students, we all must face the choice between what is right and what is easy."
"Oh, don't feed me that rubbish!" Snape shouted. "When it comes to Draco, you are doing what is easy—nothing! You are so squeamish and so foolishly idealistic that you would rather jeopardize our entire world than violate the rights of one junior Death Eater with delusions of grandeur!" Snape paused to give Dumbledore a chance to speak up, but when it became clear that no response was forthcoming, he continued his tirade.
"Even after that big speech you fed me earlier this term about how your biggest failing was believing you had all of the answers, you still haven't changed in the slightest! You're still the same stubborn old fool who thinks he's more clever than everyone else, and you still ignore every piece of advice I offer that doesn't fit into your view of how the world works.
"Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater, Albus, a Death Eater through and through. No matter what you do, no matter how many chances you give him, you will never bring him back to the light, because he was never part of it to begin with. He was born and bred to be a loyal servant of the Dark Lord, and he will never stray from that upbringing as long as he draws breath. I have told you this time and again, but you continue to ignore me. You continue to believe that you know better than everyone else, but you don't. You don'tunderstand more about the psyche of a young Death Eater than I do. You cannot save that which does not wish to be saved, and Draco most certainly does not wish to be saved."
Dumbledore still remained silent, but the sorrowful look on his face did his talking for him. Snape didn't need to hear him speak to know that nothing he'd said had managed to break through. He decided that he could not stomach spending another moment of that night in the old fool's presence, so he stood from his chair, gave the mute Headmaster one last look of disgust, and stormed out of his office.
As he strode towards his quarters, Snape couldn't help asking himself what hope the light had if their unofficial leader continued to value his misguided sense of morality and forgiveness above doing what was best to defeat the Dark Lord. And if Dumbledore refused to act on his advice, why should he continue to risk his life on his behalf?
It had been a long and exhausting day for Snape, who desired nothing so much as to throw himself onto his bed and forget all about it. Unfortunately for him, his night was not over quite yet. As he walked through the dungeons and towards his private quarters, he stumbled upon one of his own Slytherins out wandering the dungeon corridors well past curfew. With the way the day had gone for Snape, he was not the least bit surprised that the student in question was Draco Malfoy, the very cause of most of his current frustration
"Mister Malfoy. What are you doing out at this hour?" Snape questioned, making an effort to sound calm and disinterested.
"None of your business," Draco snarled. Snape was unsurprised by Draco's hostility. The boy had become more confrontational towards him with every failed overture.
"I am your Head of House, so it is in fact my business," Snape stated nonchalantly, not allowing the boy to set him off.
"I needed some time to myself before going to sleep," Draco reluctantly answered.
"I see," Snape said, unsure whether or not he was telling the truth, and not particularly caring at the moment either. When Draco turned away and began walking in the direction of the Slytherin common room, Snape spoke up.
"I had a most intriguing conversation with the Dark Lord today," Snape said. As he expected, Draco stopped abruptly once he heard that piece of information. The boy turned to face him once more, looking more suspicious of him than ever before.
"You tried to steal my mission away from me, didn't you?" Draco asked, and he stared at Snape coldly. Snape scoffed and shook his head dismissively.
"No, Draco, I did not. However, the Dark Lord did inform me that he'd be calling upon me to provide you with some assistance."
"No!" Draco said, his face reddening in anger. "I don't want your help! I'm going to accomplish my mission, and when the Dark Lord gets rid of Potter and Dumbledore, it'll be me by his side, not you!"
"Your devotion is admirable," Snape said with a sneer, "but do you really believe you can back up your words? Your father often boasted about his value to the Dark Lord, but when the time came for him to prove his worth, he failed miserably. What's to keep you from joining your father in his roomy Azkaban cell?"
"Don't you insult my father!" Draco shouted. He was truly livid now, so angry he was shaking. "He is a great man, and after I have succeeded, the Dark Lord will free him from Azkaban and allow him to redeem himself!"
"And you are prepared to go to any lengths to make sure that that happens?" Snape pressed. "You will do whatever necessary to gain the Dark Lord's approval?"
"Yes," Draco said, and Snape could hear the conviction in his voice. "The Dark Lord is going to make our world better. He's going to rid us of the filthy mudbloods that plague our society, and remind all of the subhuman races that their proper role is that of servitude. Why wouldn't I do whatever he asks me to do if it'll make that world a reality? I am honoured that he's chosen me."
"That is good to hear, Mister Malfoy," Snape said. "If you are truly as loyal as you claim, I'm sure the Dark Lord will be most pleased. Now return to your dormitory before you run into someone less inclined to overlook your curfew-breaking." Draco was still mistrusting and wary of him, but he nodded and walked quickly back towards the entrance to the Slytherin common room.
Snape had already been convinced that Draco was firmly entrenched in his role as a Death Eater, but that conversation left no room for doubt. The boy wasn't just his father's son; he was even more enthralled by the Dark Lord's rhetoric, and even more eager to do his bidding. If someone didn't do something to stop him, it was only a matter of time before blood would be spilled in Hogwarts.
Dumbledore was adamant, though: the boy was untouchable. Snape didn't know how Dumbledore would react if he broke into Draco's mind without his approval, but he was well aware that anything that could be done with the information gained would invariably have to run through Dumbledore anyway. It's not as if anyone else would trust anything he said.
He would either have to find some way to convince him that the boy was truly beyond saving...or he would have to throw in his lot with the Dark Lord.