Heaven and Hell

7th Chapter - Unsettling News

(September 1995)

Three days later Harry was still in a huff and refused to speak to Jon. Jon, on the other hand, had never been the type that would bear grudges forever. He could get enraged in a second, but usually the steam blew off just as quick. So he wouldn't have minded a try for reconciliation the next day. Unfortunately, it turned out to be difficult to talk things out with someone who avoided him and, when cornered, refused to stay and listen to him.

Ron, for being Harry's best friend, behaved the same way and didn't even acknowledge Jon's presence. Hermione didn't ignore Jon completely, but didn't spend time with him either. She tried to talk sense into Harry on several occasions, but to no avail. Harry always stubbornly refused to apologise to Jon. After the fifth vain attempt, Hermione finally lost her patience, calling his behaviour childish and leaving the common room. She left for the library, threatening to spend all her spare time there until Harry had sorted out this foolish squabble with Jon.

In the meantime, Jon tried to distract himself by socialising with other students. He helped Neville with his Potions essay and told a fascinated Lavender about the Mall of America, a huge Muggle shopping centre where his mum had sometimes taken him. He also entertained himself by playing with Spike who was exceedingly delighted by this sudden attention. But no matter what Jon did, he heard a permanently nagging voice in the back of his mind. It kept telling him that he had enjoyed the company of Harry, Ron, and Hermione way too much to just sit back and wait until Harry realised that Serena being so secretive wasn't Jon's fault.

Tuesday ended like the days before: Jon had dinner in the Great Hall, alone, and later did his homework in the Gryffindor common room, also alone. He briefly considered stopping by his mum's office and trying to get that damned information that seemed to be so important for Harry. But after estimating the prospect of success he thought better of it, and eventually he went to bed. There he lay awake and asked himself why he had to suffer the most even though he was to blame the least.

He still lay awake two hours later, when he heard a choking noise and ragged breathing coming from the four-poster next to his. That was Harry's bed, and apparently, he wasn't having a particularly pleasant dream. Since Jon hadn't slept well for a few nights, he had noticed it before - Harry was frequently plagued with nightmares.

The soft tapping of bare feet on the floor, followed by the sound of an opening and almost immediately closing door, told Jon that Harry had left the dormitory. Wondering if Harry was all right, Jon got also up and left the room.

When he descended the stairs, he saw Harry slumped in an armchair in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames as Serena had done after Harry had stormed out of her office. He had drawn up his legs, his chin propped on his knees. His slouched posture expressed immense weariness and he was noticeably paler than usual.

'Maybe this is a good moment to get things in order,' Jon thought. 'He doesn't look as if he feels like running away. So he must at least listen to me.'

Jon stepped closer, pulling another armchair to the fireplace. When Harry heard him, he looked briefly up. Upon recognising Jon, he turned his head back to the fireplace and continued to gaze apathetically into the flames. Jon noted with relief that Harry didn't leave. Hoping that this was a good sign, he sat down next to Harry, shifting about the chair for a while to find a comfortable position.

Since Harry didn't seem to say something anytime soon, Jon begun in a non-committal tone, "You alright?"

Harry didn't answer; he didn't even show a sign that he had heard the question.

A short while later Jon made a second attempt to bring Harry out of his shell. "It must have been a darn horrible nightmare. You look like death warmed up."

When Harry still didn't react, Jon stated as if he checked an imaginary list, "Let's see: asking for well-being - unsuccessful. Pretending that nothing had happened - megaflop. Damn, I'm running out of options. Do you have an idea perhaps?"

Harry stopped staring into the fire as if Jon wasn't even there, but didn't say anything either. His forehead crumpled into a frown, which looked rather thoughtful than angry, though.

When Harry still didn't aspirate a sound, Jon sighed, frustrated.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, what do you want? How can I make you speak to me again?"

Now Harry lifted his head and looked at Jon, wearing a strange expression that Jon couldn't read.

He continued, despair lingering in his voice, "Do you perhaps want to hear an apology? Ok, you get it: I'm sorry. I'm sorry that Mum isn't going to tell you about her past. I'm sorry for having accused you of using me as informant and having never cared for me as a person. I'm sorry for having called your parents bloody. I'm sorry for everything that makes your life miserable, if I'm to blame for it or not."

Fidgety, Jon ran his hands through his hair. Harry opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to do it.

Jon muttered wearily, "I'm so sick of this. Why can't we just be friends again?"

At last Harry seemed to have come to a decision and answered, "Maybe because there's still an overdue apology outstanding."

Jon couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "Another apology? What else, for Heaven's sake, do you want me to apologise for?"

"Nothing. I was speaking about myself. I must apologise to you. I was so angry with Serena, and just because you're her son, I was also angry with you. That was unfair of me. I'm sorry for that."

Harry faltered and remained silent for a couple of seconds. But then he looked again at Jon and continued softly, "You guess what Hermione asked me? She wanted to know if I would have broken off my friendship with Ron if Mrs. Weasley did something I wouldn't approve of. That made me think. She was right, of course, but I found it hard to admit."

Harry snorted with surprise. "Now, that it's out, it wasn't so hard. Jon, could you ever forgive me? I'm terribly stubborn sometimes, I suppose."

A wry, hopeful smile appeared on Harry's face.

Jon made a dismissive gesture, returning Harry's smile. "Must be a family trait, this stubbornness. Apology accepted. And don't think I asked about your nightmare only to get a reaction from you. I really care. So if you want to talk about it..."

Harry shook his head. "Thanks, but... no. I'm ok. I ... I dreamt about Cedric's death and Voldemort's rebirth, again, but it was only a dream, and the horror has faded already. I think I should go back to bed and get some sleep." Harry managed to give his voice a steady, almost light-hearted sound, but his eyes told a different story.

Jon didn't want to jeopardise his newly repaired friendship with Harry by poking into things that didn't concern him. If Harry decided to talk about it, he would do so of his own accord. Jon just nodded, putting up with Harry's wish to keep it to himself.

"Ok, if you insist. Erm, Harry," Jon waited until Harry who had already got up from the armchair faced him again. "Please assure me that you aren't sleepwalking right now and that you'll still remember our conversation tomorrow morning."

Harry managed a grin. "Rest assured, cousin, I'm wide awake. And I won't back out."

* * *

"F*ck!" Jon exclaimed, staring disbelievingly under his bed.

It was the first Friday in October, the lunch break was almost over, and he was about to fetch his cauldron for Potions.

"Jon!" Hermione, who waited at the door, having her cauldron already, reproved him. "Watch your language! Why on earth must you boys always use such rude words?"

"Erm, my Mum's swearing quite often too," Jon dissented. Seeing Hermione's shocked expression, he added quickly, "When she thinks I don't hear it."

"Anyway, what's bugging you?" Ron mumbled questioningly. His mouth was filled with a half-melted chocolate frog while he spoke, which earned him another reproachful look from Hermione.

"Really, guys, don't you have any manners?" she complained fretfully.

Ignoring her outburst, Jon answered, "My cauldron isn't here. I took it to Mum's office a few days ago because she needed a potion and would rather face a dragon with toothache than ask Snape for a favour."

"And so you brewed it for her," Harry stated the obvious.

"Yes, I did. Because it was still hot, I left it in her office to cool down, intending to fetch it later. But I forgot it and just remembered it now when I didn't find it under my bed."

Jon shook his head slowly. His expression shifted slightly and suddenly he looked as if he was severely tempted to yell at himself. But he confined his self chastisement to a smack on his forehead and scolding himself.

"Why on earth am I cursed with a memory like a sieve! Mum often says, I would even forget my head if it wasn't attached to my body. If I don't have my cauldron Snape'll certainly take a lot of points with the greatest of pleasure."

"Especially because usually he seldom has an opportunity to do so. Sometimes I get the feeling you know even more about Potions than he does."

Jon wondered if he could hear a slight trace of admiration in Hermione's voice, when she said that. But maybe he was only imagining it.

Ever since the first Potions lesson, Snape's ill will against Jon had steadily increased and had reached the level of open hatred now. Snape jumped at every chance to deduct points from Jon, which wasn't very often. For a while he had tried to discover a gap in Jon's knowledge, but in vain. Jon seemed to know everything that Snape asked him. Then he had criticised Jon's work although it had been perfect. Snape hadn't always succeeded in hiding that it rankled with him that he couldn't find any real mistakes. Finally Snape had gone over to disparage Serena, but Jon hadn't let himself be provoked by the Potions Master a second time. So it usually ended in Snape taking his anger out on the other students.

"Yes, Potions is right up my street. I doubt that I know more about it than Snape, but I suppose, the things I don't know he cannot ask me because they haven't got anything to do with the syllabus. It seems as if I have sort of an instinctive understanding for Potions, quite the opposite to Mum. If she's in need of a potion, I always have to make it for her."

"Always? Can't she even do easy potions?" Harry asked sceptically.

"No. She couldn't make decent coffee if her life depended on it, let alone a potion. The reason we have Potions down in those cold dungeons is actually her fault. The lessons used to be given in a small tower at the south side of Hogwarts. She accidentally blew it up when she was practising for the exams. I dare say, if it comes down to Potions, she's worse than Neville."

Jon noticed the equally doubtful expressions at the faces of Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Apparently, they couldn't imagine someone being worse than Neville, but they had never experienced his mum trying to brew a potion. He had been told that years ago, his mum had even managed to blow up his baby food in an attempt to simply warm it with magic.

"We still have some time left before Potions begins. We could stop by her office and get your cauldron now," Hermione suggested after a glance at the wall clock above Dean's bed. "Her office is almost on our way."

Noticing Harry's frown, Jon offered, "You don't have to come with me. I can get it alone."

Although Harry had made peace with Jon, he still bore a grudge against Serena. He hadn't visited her again or talked to her outside the Defence classroom. In class, he had treated her like any professor: cool and reserved, polite, but not more.

"We could wait at the corridor," Ron proposed.

Harry nodded, his frown vanishing. "Ok then, let's go."

* * *

When they arrived at Serena's office at the second floor, Jon muttered the password and turned the doorknob.

"Mum said, I could drop in at any time and told me the password so I could," he explained.

He was just about to open the door wide, when they heard agitated voices coming out of the office. Startled, Jon let go of the knob and they heard through the slightly ajar door an upset Serena, "Ok, I admit it, I've been avoiding you. Why couldn't you take the hint and keep clear of me as well? And now sod off, Sev, I can't help you!"

Sev? Who was Sev?

"Oh, we are the epitome of kindness, aren't we?" a voice answered back, thick with sarcasm. It belonged clearly to Professor Snape. Severus Snape. Sev. Ron pressed his hand over his mouth, in order to prevent himself bursting into laughter. Harry chortled too, seeing the mock grin on Jon's face. Only Hermione seemed not to be amused. Obviously she'd rather be somewhere else instead of eavesdropping on professors' arguments.

"Well, you aren't in high spirits either, as I see. But Albus gave the position to me, not to you. If you can't cope with it, that's not my problem." Serena's answer mingled with anger, strain, and weariness. The wish to end this discussion had become more perceptible in her voice with each sentence.

The floorboards begun to rhythmically creak because of someone pacing up and down.

"Why, that's lucky, isn't it? You have enough other problems, after all," Snape replied in a cynical tone, bluntly ignoring her undertone of dismissal.

The steps stopped. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Have a look at your poor excuse of a son, for example. He's disrespectful to teachers, and he's cheeky, pert, truculent - shall I continue?"

Harry and Ron held nervously their breath. Hermione gave Jon a worried look. But Jon stayed relaxed. He knew that his mother wouldn't let anything be said against him. Sometimes he felt bad because he occasionally took advantage of her being overprotective towards him. But not very often.

"Not one of the other teachers has complained about him so far! This seems to me suspiciously like you're the problem."

Jon grinned triumphantly. Exactly what he'd expected her to say.

"I highly doubt that. His naughty behaviour isn't very surprising when looking at you. You let him get away with far too much. And you take his side excessively often. No wonder that he thinks he can do just as he pleases! You always keep away any consequences from him!"

"Are you criticising my way of raising my son? You are in no position to judge my qualities as a mother! Or do you have any experiences in the field of raising children? I don't think so!"

'Snape may have a point there, even if he's exaggerating a lot,' Jon mused, 'but Mum's completely deaf to that sort of reproach anyway.'

"At least I didn't bring a brat into the world, while it was beyond my capabilities to bring it up properly."

It seemed as if that rude, spiteful remark had left Serena temporarily speechless, because it had become silent for a moment. But maybe she had simply bit her tongue so as to not give an appropriate answer to this insult.

Not a jot more affable, Snape continued, "If you ask me, I'd say he's missing the strict upbringing of a father. But, well, that's what you get if you have it off with married men. They only want to have fun, not responsibility."

"Excuse me???"

"Oh, c'mon, you don't have to act unwitting. I know very well whom you owe the questionable pleasure of getting yourself pregnant with a misbegotten child, even though you make a big secret of it."

Snape knew Jon's father? Jon had no clue about the identity of his father. This was another one of the topics that his mum never talked about. He pricked up his ears so as to not miss anything.

"Do you indeed?" Serena's question sounded sceptical and a bit pressed, as if she had to constrain herself to maintain her self-control.

Snape's voice was filled with contempt and loathing when he spat, "Oh yes, I do. I know about you and Lucius. I've seen you both kissing and pawing at each other. He couldn't keep his hands off you!"

An seemingly endless period passed by before an extremely baffled Serena finally answered with a question in return, "You've seen that?" Each word sounded clearly as if she couldn't take in his words. "You've seen it and did nothing?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course not. What should I have done - congratulate you?" Snape asked cynically. "Or tell Narcissa that her husband is screwing her friend, while she's sitting at home? Hoping it wouldn't upset her that much that she lost her baby? No, this was none of my business, after all. I wasn't part of your disgusting triangle of a pregnant wife, an unfaithful husband, and a treacherous whore!"

Slap! The sound of a hand connecting hard against skin made the four eavesdroppers jump. Apparently, Serena had finally lost the fight for self-control. Her voice had almost changed beyond recognition when she yelled, boiling with rage, "How dare you call me that! You know nothing! Get the hell out of here, before I forget myself completely!"

"I have the strong impression you have done that already," Snape continued with an angry snarl, obviously not amused about the slap. "And your reaction unmistakably betrays your words. Methinks the lady doth protest to much."

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! NOW!"

Something hit the wall next to the door and fell clattering to the ground. Snape seemed to deem it safer to follow Serena's demand, because quick strides neared the door. The four people outside could barely hide in a wall niche behind a suit of armour before the office door flung open and a fuming Snape stormed out. Rubbing his left cheek, he hurried down the stairs. Eight eyes followed him with thunderstruck gazes until he was out of sight.

Harry was the first who was able to speak again. "I think we should go to Madam Pomfrey, feign a sickness, and skip Potions today. As much as Snape was seething, I wouldn't be surprised if he killed a student just because he's wearing the wrong expression."

"I don't think that I have to feign the sickness," Ron answered uncomfortably.

Hermione, extricating herself from their hiding place behind the suit of armour, added with distinctly audible respect in her voice, "Your mum is quite courageous to quarrel with Professor Snape."

Jon stood rooted to the spot, silent. His face had lost all its colour. He didn't listen to what the others said, his mind was too busy with digesting what he had heard. Was that true? Was Lucius Malfoy his father? Draco Malfoy would be his brother then - a creepy idea. Was that the reason why his mum had never talked about his father? Because he was married to another woman?

Slowly, he silently counted up to ten, straightened himself, and then went into the office. Fragments of pottery were scattered about the floor next to the door, most likely the remains of what had caused the clattering sound. The rest of the office didn't look much better. Pieces of parchment were spread all around the desk, apparently wiped off the tabletop in an angry move.

His Mum stood at the window, looking out. She breathed heavily, and what he could see of her face was flushed with anger. When she heard him stepping onto the fragments, she spun around and got ready for a sharp reply. Then she recognised Jon and swallowed the harsh words, turning back to the window.

With a far more friendly tone, she asked him, "Hey, Jon, don't you have lessons?"

Had he only imagined it or had he spotted tears in his mum's eyes? He had seen them only for a moment because she had turned back to the window in an instant. Jon couldn't remember having ever witnessed his mum shedding tears before. How dare Snape make her cry! Jon's esteem for Snape dropped lower again, if that was still possible.

Softly, Jon answered, "Yes Mum, in a minute. But I need my cauldron; I left it here."

"It's beside my desk. And your ingredients are on the windowsill." Her voice was steady, but very soft, as if she didn't trust herself to speak aloud.

"Ok." Hesitating, Jon reached for the box that contained smaller boxes, little jars and small bags filled with a wide assortment of potion ingredients. Should he ask her? Now?

"Mum?"

"Yes?"

"Well... I... Err... I'll go then. I don't want to be late."

"Ok, see you later."

Jon lackadaisically dropped the box into his cauldron and left the office with his equipment, gently shutting the door behind him. He hadn't been able to bring himself to ask. In fact, he didn't want to know it. That way he could still hope that his father was someone else. Actually, Snape could have made just a random guess. His mum hadn't confirmed anything. And even if his father's name was Lucius, there was still a remote chance that it was another Lucius, not Malfoy, who had by pure accident also married a woman named Narcissa. But all these thoughts were only straws, and clutching at them wasn't by far as comforting as he wished. In silence, he hurried down to the dungeons together with his friends.

* * *

When professor Snape came out of his office and entered the classroom, the whole class became deathly silent. Nobody even dared to move. All stared with wide eyes at their Potions Master. A few students had a hard time preventing themselves from laughing, because that could easily have become the last thing they did in their lives. On Snape's left cheek showed a fiery red imprint of a hand. It was all the more conspicuous because his face was always so pale.

"She did really slap him! I love your Mum!" Ron whispered appreciatively to Jon. Then he remembered that Serena still wasn't in Harry's good books and added, "But don't tell Harry."

"Is there anything of interest to report, Mr. Weasley? Then I'd suggest you say it aloud so that we all can benefit from your unique knowledge."

Ron flinched. "N-no, Professor Snape, I've nothing to say. Sorry."

Snape gave Ron a piercing look that made Ron quiver. "If you have nothing to tell us, as usual, then kindly keep your mouth shut. Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Draco Malfoy smirked with malicious pleasure. But not for long.

"There is nothing to gloat over, Mr. Malfoy. Five points from Slytherin."

Draco's smirk faded away instantly. He seemed to consider a reply to Snape, but then thought better of it and cast his eyes downwards.

Jon watched Draco out of the corner of his eye. He had always wanted to have brothers or sisters. But Malfoy? That really took the cake! He shuddered, but couldn't help but grin inwardly at the same time. Malfoy's face had been priceless when Snape had deducted points from him. Draco still couldn't take it in.

Still, Snape had taken less points away from Slytherin than from Gryffindor. But that he had even deducted points from Slytherin, and from his favourite student, was a strong sign of Snape's alarmingly foul mood. Because his mum had been the reason for it, he should better do his utmost not to get on the receiving end of Snape's wrath today, Jon resolved.

"During today's lesson we'll make Transparency tincture," Snape commenced in a sour tone. "If you apply it to the surface of a solid object, it will become, like the name says, temporarily transparent. How long, depends on the concentration of the tincture. The brewing of it is not simple and requires care and concentration. So you will meticulously heed the instructions in order to successfully create the tincture. If there should be a cauldron at the end of the lesson that isn't transparent, I'll make the owner of that cauldron drink the potion."

Neville tried to copy down all of the Potions Master's speech with the intention of minimising the chances of doing something wrong later. But Snape listed the ingredients too fast for Neville to keep up. When the professor was finished, he ordered Neville to repeat the ingredients for the class.

Neville cringed. He looked scared at Snape and began to stammer, "Powdered Dragon scales, erm..., newt..., newt bile..., erm..."

"I asked the class to pay special attention to the ingredients! Even that seems to demand too much of you, Longbottom. You should really reconsider your family's decision on Hogwarts being the right type of school for you. Ten points from Gryffindor!"

At Snape's command, Harry wrote down the list of ingredients on the blackboard and lost another ten points for Gryffindor because he missed one. Then the students could finally start to brew the tincture. When Jon took his ingredients box out of his cauldron, he found a folded piece of parchment at the bottom. The image of parchments scattered around his mum's desk came back to his mind. Apparently this was one of them, but it had landed in Jon's cauldron instead on the floor. Without further examination, Jon put it in his robe, intending to give it back to his mother later.

The rest of the lesson was quite an intricate manoeuvre for all students. No one dared to even breathe audibly to avoid getting into the focus of Snape's attention. Nevertheless, Gryffindor was sixty points worse off at the end of the lesson, and even Slytherin had lost twenty points for issues like, "Your fire is too hot!", "The pieces are too small!", or "Your book is on the wrong side of the table!"

When the bell rang, the students fled the dungeon in a hurry, glad that they were still alive.

* * *

Fortunately, it was Friday and the weekend was at hand to get the students' minds onto other things. Harry, Ron, and Hermione planned to pay Hagrid a visit and they had asked Jon, if he would like to join them. Jon did and so the four set off on Hagrid's hut at Saturday after lunch.

When they entered the hut, Jon looked curiously around. It consisted only of one large room and everything in it was quite a bit above normal size. In a corner, there was a bed, which was so huge that there would have been plenty of room for Jon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all together. The stock of food that hung at the ceiling - ham, sausages, chicken, pheasants, and other game that Jon couldn't identify - would have been enough to give a big party for all members of Gryffindor. A cosy fire crackled in the fireplace, heating water in a tub-like kettle.

Harry sat down on a sofa, which occupied most of the wall opposite the door. Jon decided to follow him, while Ron and Hermione climbed onto an armchair that had the width of a normal sofa.

"Help yerselves!" Hagrid said, putting a plate of his infamous rock cakes onto the table and pouring out tea.

When Hagrid returned the teapot to the mantelpiece, Ron signalled Jon behind Hagrid's back with vehement gestures that Jon would be far better off without trying the rock cakes. Jon nodded and mouthed a 'Thank you', leaving the cakes alone.

Finally, Hagrid collapsed onto the sofa, almost catapulting Jon off. Harry, who had already known what would happen, had grasped the armrest with both hands as a precaution.

"So, yeh an' Harry are friends again," Hagrid began, looking at Jon. "That's good, there shouldn' be strife in a family. Yeh know, blood's thicker than water an' all. An's quite obvious tha' yer one family - Jon, if yeh had glasses an' yeh'd be a good head smaller, I couldn' tell yer from Harry, I s'ppose."

Jon nodded in agreement. "Yes, I've heard that from a few people already."

Shifting on the sofa to find a comfortable position, Hagrid continued, "Why didn' yeh come ter Hogwarts earlier? Where've yeh been before?"

"We used to live in a small village in Iowa in the middle of nowhere. I've been at a wizarding school in the States."

This answer managed to catch Hagrid's undivided attention. When Hagrid had been a child, his father had once taken him to New York. Hagrid had been highly impressed by the huge skyscrapers. Unfortunately, Jon couldn't tell Hagrid much about them, he had never been in New York. But even so, Hagrid listened with rapt attention when Jon told about Two Oaks, his home town, a small, boring village with nothing around but prairie.

Eventually Hagrid remembered that Jon wasn't his only visitor and, looking a bit guilty, he asked, "And, Harry, have yeh made up with yer aunt too?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"But after today you could at least consider the possibility," Ron cut in. "I mean, she can't be that bad - not when she slaps the ugly bat."

Seeing Hagrid's puzzled face, Ron explained further, "She gave Snape a hefty clout round the ears today!"

Hagrid's expression changed from puzzled to doubtful. "Gallopin' Gorgons, yer sure?"

"You bet! We were there and ... erm, you better not tell that to anyone. We just happened to be standing outside of her office, and heard them arguing through the door until Snape stormed off. We had Potions then, and there was a red imprint of a hand on his cheek. He was quite in a fume, I dare say."

"Strange. I wonder why they're fightin'. They used ter be best friends back in their ol' school days," Hagrid said, which earned him utterly nonplussed looks from his visitors.

"Friends? But Snape hates her. You should have seen him glaring daggers at her at the Welcome Feast. As if he wanted to bite her head off. How could they have been friends? Maybe you're confusing her with someone else?"

"Nah, certainly not. Severus didn' have lots o' friends. It was Serena, none else. She was 'n Slytherin too, yeh know. They were hangin 'round together all the time."

"So you knew her too," Harry noted, "and didn't tell me that I had still living relatives, like everyone else. I thought, you of all people wouldn't have kept that from me."

"I didn'. Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, I didn' hear anythin' o' her after she left Hogwarts. When Dumbledore said these Muggles were yer only family, I thought she were dead. Killed by You-Know-Who, as yer parents. If I'd known... Oh, I'm so sorry."

Hagrid was tearing at his hair until Harry interrupted him by laying his hand on Hagrid's arm. "Forget it, I'm not mad at you," Harry said.

Hagrid's expression lightened up instantly. Trying to be a good host and keep the conversation going, he asked Ron and Hermione, "An' yer? How are things with yeh?"

But the news about Snape and Serena had come as a bombshell, shocking all four. Jon didn't pay much attention anymore. He was too occupied with trying to imagine his Mum and Snape being friends, but failing miserably. The others had problems digesting this piece of information as well. At length they bid good-bye to Hagrid and returned to the castle in awkward silence.