Mist and Vapors

Early the next morning, Pomfrey woke them up with a much-too-chirpy greeting and Severus' next round of potions. When Hannah padded off to the bathroom, the matron took the opportunity to restore the bed to its original dimension. "Wouldn't do to have a visitor come in and get ideas now, would it?" she remarked much-too-cheerily as she pulled aside the curtains and let the much-too-bright sunlight in. "Look, what a bea-uu-tiful day!"

Pomfrey, Severus thought sourly, was definitely a morning person.

As soon as she left again, he summoned Gwinny.

"What can Gwinny do for Master Snape?" the elf eagerly asked.

"I need you to go to my quarters and bring me one of my own nightshirts." There would not be another session of attempting to somehow keep the back of his hospital gown closed while trying to walk supported by two women - not if he had anything to do with it.

"Oh, and when you bring breakfast, bring my copy of the Prophet, please." He had noticed that Gwinny hadn't delivered his copy of the Evening Prophet last night, but had, in the end, decided it could wait. The last thing Hannah had needed right then was to read whatever cock-and-bull story the Ministry had drummed up to account for her father's death. But now it was time.

The elf was back with his nightshirt just a couple of minutes later. It was a relief to be back in proper clothing.

When Pomfrey returned, she gave him a sideways look, but obviously decided to say nothing about the change in apparel. Which was just as well. There was no reason for him to wear the flimsy garment any more. It really was ridiculous, he thought with a grim smirk, that with all the qualified witches and wizards at Hogwarts no one had thought to equip the blasted things with a self-closing spell. The wizarding world was woefully short on practical sense at times. Maybe he could propose the project to Flitwick, something like that would be right up his alley...

It still took both Pomfrey and Hannah to get him up and moving, but he noticed with satisfaction that his leg would support much more of his weight now before it started to buckle.

"Look at you!" Pomfrey said in a pleased voice. "I think you'll be able to walk with the aid of a cane by this afternoon. Which means you'll be able to return to your quarters. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

As far as Severus was concerned, this was a purely rhetorical question - after years of caring for him, Pomfrey knew that he could never bid the hospital wing farewell quickly enough.

Gwinny arrived with breakfast just a few minutes later. "Good food for both of you this time," she crooned. Hannah's eyes grew huge as the elf laid out the spread on the small table next to his bed again. Toast, marmalade, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, stewed tomatoes, baked beans, grapefruit halves...it was apparent that Gwinny had thrown all caution about 'fragile stomachs' to the wind.

"There. You enjoys!" With a grin on her face, she Disapparated.

"Gwinny!" Severus called after her.

With a 'pop' and a wary smile, the elf reappeared. "Yes, Master Snape?"

"I don't see a copy of the paper."

The elf's eyes opened in wide-eyed, innocent surprise and dismay. "Oh sorry, I forgots. Gwinny terrible, cobweb-brained, head-full-of-air elf. So, so sorry. I be back later and brings it to you."

"You will bring it now."

"Anything else Master Snape wants? Would you likes a soft-boiled egg instead, like yesterday?"

"I would like my copy of the Prophet."

"I coulds get some strawberries, first of the season, not too tasty yet, but Master Snape be welcome to them..."

"The paper, Gwinny!"

Her ears drooping, the elf finally nodded. "If Master Snape wishes..."

Even so, they were almost finished with breakfast by the time the elf reappeared. Without the paper.

"I's so sorry - Gwinny accidentally spill coffee on Master Snape's paper. Can't read it no more. Bad, bad elf. Terrible elf. I tries to get Professor Lupin's, but he already use his to line the bottom of pixie cage. Professor Flitwick folds his into a boat to play with in the bathtub. Very cute. Even have a sail. Gwinny will have to try that some time. Professor McGonagall..."

"You mean to tell me that there is not a single legible copy of the Prophet left in the entire castle?" Snape interrupted her disbelievingly.

Gwinny hung her head, refusing to look at him.

"Gwinny," Severus said in a dangerously calm voice. "I order you to get me a copy of the paper. Right now."

"Yes, Master." With a dejected sigh, she Disapparated, and a moment later was back with a - seemingly miraculously spared - copy of the Prophet. She handed it to Severus with obvious reluctance before disappearing with the breakfast dishes.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Hannah said in an uneasy voice, sitting down next to him so she could read over his shoulder.

With a grim expression - from Gwinny's behavior, he thought her feeling quite justified - Severus unrolled the paper to the front page.

Head of Magical Law Enforcement Killed in the Line of Duty

A deadly skirmish between Auror forces and a wanted Death Eater near the village of Girmanock on the evening of April 6th resulted in the tragic death of Frank Hannigan, 63, Head of Magical Law Enforcement. The suspected killer, Peter Pettigrew, 40, was arrested on the scene.

Pettigrew, a former Death Eater also wanted for the murder of Hogwarts student Cedric Diggory four years ago, apparently used the Killing Curse on Hannigan after the latter came to the rescue of his daughter, Hannah Hannigan. Miss Hannigan had been abducted from her place of residence the previous evening.

"It's no secret that Frank hated Death Eaters," a source in the Auror Department told the Daily Prophet. "He was not about to let Pettigrew harm his only daughter. Without his selfless intervention, Miss Hannigan would not have survived. He was a hero until the end."

Harvey Graham, Minister of Magic, added, "This is a sad day for the wizarding world. Frank will be mourned deeply by all who knew him."

Miss Hannigan is in seclusion and could not be reached for comment.

Pettigrew has confessed to the murders and is being held for sentencing. The Wizengamot will convene in open session on Friday, April 9th, at 3:00 pm to decide on the terms of his punishment.

Numerous smaller articles surrounded the lead column - a biography of Frank Hannigan, including his distinguished service record; an interview with Amos Diggory, expressing relief that his son's murderer had finally been apprehended; a photo of the farmhouse where Pettigrew had been arrested; quotes from colleagues and associates bemoaning Hannigan's loss.

Severus put the paper down decisively and picked up his coffee cup again, his mouth pressed into a thin, bitter line. "That's that, then."

Hannah had got up and was pacing angrily in front of the bed. "That's that?" She looked at him with incomprehension. "This is completely unfair!"

"Did you expect anything else?" His voice was acidic. "Did you for even a moment believe that the Ministry would be interested in publishing the truth?"

"I don't know what I expected," she said hotly. "But not this."

"Well, you should have," he said sharply. "I am actually pleasantly surprised."

Hannah gaped at him. "What? Severus, they made him a hero. After all he did, they made the bastard a bloody hero!" Her hands were opening and closing convulsively at her side.

"If whatever the Ministry comes up with doesn't result in my being hauled off by Aurors and stuck into a Ministry holding cell, I consider it good news."

"Good news," she said indignantly, still walking with staccato steps from one end of the bed to the other. "Right." After his previous encounters with the Ministry, he probably honestly thought so. When had they ever treated him fairly?

Just at that moment, there was a knock on the door.

"Now who?" Snape muttered irritatedly. "Come!"

"Wotcher, Snape!" Tonks, yesterday's chartreuse coif replaced with a deep-blue, spiky do, stuck her head through the door. "Hi, Hannah!"

"Nymphadora," Snape said waspishly. "I wasn't aware that breakfast time was acceptable visiting hours."

"Sorry 'bout that. But when the Minister says go, I have to go." She made a little half-bow. "Yours truly is your official Ministry delegation, I'm afraid. The powers-that-be decided that I had a better chance than most of getting out of here without getting my head bit off." She looked at him with an uncertain expression. "I hope they're right?"

Snape put down his coffee cup with a clank. "What now?"

Tonks looked at him warily. "You have seen the papers, haven't you? I'm supposed to explain."

"Yes," Snape said harshly. "We have seen the papers."

"I have a letter from the Minister," Tonks said in a small voice. "Please don't hex the messenger..."

"I couldn't if I wanted to," Snape said acidly. "I still don't have my wand."

"Oh, that..." Tonks hastily pulled something out of the pocket of her trousers. "I have that. Sorry, I almost forgot. Here." She held the wand out to Snape. He took it with a jerky movement, his hand closing tightly around the handle.

There was a pause while Snape just stared at the young Auror, a look of long-suffering on his face.

Tonks peered at him in confusion. "Wha..? Oh, yes...Sorry." She fumbled with her pocket, dropping her own wand as she pulled out a rather crumpled bit of parchment, sealed in blood-red wax with the Ministry's seal. "Here you are." She took a seat on one of the chairs, watching him warily as he opened the letter.

He cracked the seal with one decisive move of a long finger while Hannah sat down next to him on the bed again, an apprehensive look on her face.

Professor Snape,

It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been cleared of all suspicion in the death of Frank Hannigan. Your presence will not be required at any subsequent hearing, and your wand is herewith returned to you.

Regarding your injuries caused by Auror personnel, an inquiry led by the Council on Internal Affairs has determined that the Aurors in question felt threatened at the time, and the incident has been ruled justifiable use of force.

Even so, the Ministry deeply regrets the unfortunate events of April 6th, and wishes to assure you that appropriate steps have been taken to avoid a recurrence.

With best wishes for your full recovery,

Harvey Graham

Minister of Magic

"Well, isn't that nice." Snape's voice dripped with sarcasm as he folded the letter up, a distasteful expression on his face. "How very sweet of him."

Tonks winced as she looked at him. "I know. It's a piece of self-serving, cover-our-arses crap, isn't it? He let me read it before he sealed it, so I could be 'properly prepared.'-- I'm afraid the story they gave the Prophet will stand as is. Graham said something along the lines of 'the public interest demanding that faith in the Ministry be retained even in view of Hannigan's abuse of his position.' Or some other such crock. - But at least he does mean the last part of the letter. He's naming Amanda Toothill as the new Head. She's a good sort, really. I hope it's a bit of a consolation that at least things should be looking up in the Auror Department from now on. - Oh, and Davis has been reassigned from the Auror Corps to the Event Security Division of the Watch-Wizard Unit." She suddenly grinned. "Instead of chasing Dark wizards, he'll now be patting down old ladies for contraband bottles of butterbeer during Quidditch tournaments."

Hannah snorted disbelievingly. "Heartbreaking punishment for just about killing a man."

Tonks gave her a quick, pained smile before turning back to Snape. "There'll be no trial. Graham means to finish this as quickly and quietly as possible. They didn't even need Pettigrew to confess to killing Hannigan; they already had him on numerous priors. Between you and me and the doorpost, the Wizengamot meeting is only a formality. They have already decided on the Dementor's Kiss. -Well, that's all I came to tell you," she finished lamely. "Anything else I can answer?"

"Yes," Snape said brusquely. "I would like to know, Nymphadora, when Minerva McGonagall's Order of Merlin ceremony will take place. For saving my and Hannah's lives, and for apprehending Pettigrew. I wouldn't want to miss it."

Tonks looked down at her feet, and even her hair color seemed to grow duller. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Believe me, if there was anything I could do..."

"You must just love going to work in the morning," Snape interrupted her in mock solicitude. "To be part of such an upstanding, just, moral, unbiased group of people - it must fill you with such satisfaction..."

At that, Tonks blazed up. "Oh stuff it, Snape. Do you think I like doing this? But I'm the only one from the Order left in the Auror Corps, and someone needs to have access to that information. And don't you, of all people, have the audacity to tell me who I can or can't associate with if the Order requires it, you..." She paused, then shut her mouth sharply instead of finishing that sentence. For a moment, there was silence as the two glared at each other.

Hannah had put a warning hand on Severus' arm. When the silence continued, she cleared her throat. "Please, do forgive us. Really, we do know none of this is your fault. You've been fantastic. And we haven't even properly thanked you." She smiled a strained smile at the young Auror. "Without your help, neither of us would even be here to gripe about the Ministry. It's just that right now...well, this has all been quite upsetting..." Her voice trailed off.

"It's okay," Tonks said, smiling back crookedly. "I did figure this would all be a bit hard to digest. Don't you worry, I'm not taking it personally." She looked at Snape again. "And really, I am sorry."

His expression was still hard, but he acknowledged her words with a short nod.

"There is one more thing..." Hannah said awkwardly.

"Yes?"

"My father...his body...?"

"Oh yes. That." The young Auror gave her another 'I-wish-someone-else-would-have-to-tell-her' look. "There will be a state funeral Sunday evening. They would like you to attend." She shrugged apologetically. "I'm sure they'll come up with a suitable excuse for your absence. - Unless you'd like to go, of course," she added hesitantly.

Hannah shook her head. "No thank you," she said bitterly. "I think not."

"All right, then." Tonks got up with a look of relief. "If that's all, I'll say goodbye."

Hannah had risen from her seat, as well. "Please, don't mind us," she said quietly, as she walked Tonks to the door. "We're both upset, and it wasn't fair to take it out on you. Please, let me thank you again - both of us really appreciate all you've done."

Tonks cast a dubious look back at Snape. "I'll take your word for it." She gave Hannah's arm a quick squeeze and looked at her with a grin. "I can tell you one thing - I'm quite happy for you and all, but you don't know how glad I am that it's you who'll be putting up with him and not me."

.-.-.-.

After Tonks had left, Hannah walked over to the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest, looking outside with unfocused eyes. A state funeral. For Frank Hannigan, exemplary father, outstanding citizen, servant of the people. Merlin, what a farce!

She took a deep breath, then another one. As Severus had said - that was that, then. It wasn't as if she could do anything about it. She resolutely turned her thoughts away from the contemplation of wizarding justice (or lack thereof) - time to think of better things. The Minister and his lot could just go and hang themselves, for all she cared. Or jump in a lake. Or go pet a Manticore.

"Hannah?" She turned to see Severus watching her, his eyes hooded.

Walking over, she sat down on the edge of his bed. "Sorry, love. I'm just...angry. This is just all so..." She lifted her hands in a gesture of resignation, then let them drop. "I just keep reminding myself that in three months we'll leave here, you and I, and we'll never have to think about either Minister or Ministry again, for the rest of our lives. Frankly, I can't wait."

He snorted. "That makes two of us."

She smiled at him as she reached for his hand. "The main thing is - it's over. No more questions, no more trials, no more Aurors, no more Wizengamot. We can go out to dinner in a nice restaurant, or take a walk by the lake - once you're well again - without worrying about anyone out to get us. And as far as the Prophet - whatever they print in the paper, well, at least I know who the real heroes of the story are."

He lips curled down in a half-smirk. "Poor Minerva. That may have been the performance of her life - and only a handful of people will ever know what happened."

"I was thinking more about you." There was a light, teasing tone in her voice now. "My knight in shining armour." She reached up and stroked his cheek.

He snorted. "You and your fairy tales."

"Well, it's the truth, isn't it? Do you have any idea what it does to a girl's heart to have you charge to her rescue like that?"

He was definitely smirking now, and she could see the hard lines in his face starting to soften. "And then promptly get hit with a Petrificus and spend most of the rest of the story lying around like a heroic log? If I remember correctly, Minerva did a lot more rescuing than I did."

"Oh, that doesn't matter. Temporary setbacks are allowed. And all's well that ends well, as they say." She winked at him. "Now all that's left is the happily ever after."

He snorted again. "I stopped believing in happily-ever-afters a long time ago."

She lifted her face and kissed him, then, a gentle brush of her lips against his. "Oh, that's all right," she said lightly. "I'll just have to do the believing for both of us, won't I?"

.-.-.-.

The rest of the morning went by quickly and quietly. Hannah disappeared for a while to shower and to change her clothes, and he used the time to take a nap. He still tired much too easily. But thanks to Pomfrey's potions, he wasn't in pain unless he tried to move, and he knew that getting his energy back was only a matter of time and rest - however much he wished he could speed up the process.

When she returned, she brought a book - he had decided a while ago that it really was quite pleasant to have her read aloud - and he just closed his eyes and relaxed, listening to the sound of her voice. The only interruption was Madam Pomfrey, who came in periodically and made him get out of bed and exercise his leg. Each time, it became easier to get up and move around.

Some time after lunch Pomfrey arrived carrying his socks, boots, cloak, and a cane.

"It's not that I don't like you," she said with a grin, "but I think we're both ready for you to get out of here."

While Hannah collected his robes and other belongings, Pomfrey laced on his boots, then handed him the cane. "Well, let's give it a try," she said encouragingly.

Bracing himself, he slowly levered himself into a standing position, holding on to the bed frame and leaning heavily on the cane. For a moment, he closed his eyes, fighting dizziness, then straightened up triumphantly. One step, then another. He was walking. By himself.

About time.

.-.-.-.

When they stepped out onto the hearth in his quarters a short time later, he let out a slow breath. As much as he hated to admit it, even the short walk to the hospital wing Floo had exhausted him. But it felt good to be back in his own surroundings.

He followed Hannah into the bedroom and gingerly lowered himself to the side of the bed. Before he could even ask for help, Hannah had already matter-of-factly knelt down and begun to unlace his boot. It would be another day or so until he could manage to bend over far enough to do that for himself, he thought with vexation.

He looked on with embarrassment and a sense of déjà vu as she pulled off his boot and sock, then rubbed his foot with her hands. "You have very nice feet," she said judiciously. Luckily she did not seem to expect a reply. She ran her hands a little higher up, over his ankle, stopping as her fingers encountered the thick scars that crossed his lower right calf. "Where did you get these?" she asked.

"Fluffy," he said with a smirk

She looked up at him, a question mark on her face as she took off the other boot. "Fluffy?"

"One of Hagrid's pets. A Cerberus, actually. It's a long story. It bit me."

"You got bit by a Cerberus named Fluffy?" There was a twinkle in her eyes, and she grinned.

"As I said, it's a long story," he said dryly.

Laughing, she shook her head. "Leave it to Hagrid." She looked up at him with a smile as she folded up his socks and put them over the top of his boots. "There's still so much about you I don't know," she said wistfully. "So many stories I haven't heard."

"There are a lot of stories you won't want to hear." There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

For a moment, she was quiet. When she raised her head again, her face was serious. "Father told me about Daphne Greengrass," she said carefully as she got up and took his cloak from him.

Daphne Greengrass.

One of his worst memories. Having to kill one of his own, one of his Slytherins. And Hannah's father had had the telling of that story - he could only imagine what it had sounded like coming from Hannigan's mouth. Not that the bare facts were not damning enough.

"I don't know what he told you, exactly," he said, his voice strained. "But I was there for the discussion before they brought her out. What they had planned for her...she would have ...her death would have been slow - slow, long, and hard. I did the best for her that I could. There was no possible way to save her."

"That's what I thought," she said as she hung his cloak on the hook by the wardrobe. "I told him that is what must have happened." She turned around when there was no answer. "Severus?"

He found himself without words for a moment. It was still almost unbelievable to him that there was now this person whose default assumption was that he must have had good reason to do what he did, no matter how horrible the evidence.

When he still didn't say anything, she knelt back down in front of him and took his hands into hers. "I wanted to let you know that I think I made a mistake," she said quietly. "Back when I told you that I didn't need to know the details of the things you had to do as a Death Eater. I think you do need to tell me, and that I do need to hear. I'm afraid it may have sounded like I didn't want to hear. But there are things...memories that you...that you shouldn't have to carry by yourself..." She rested her chin briefly on top of their clasped hands. "So please, keep that in mind?"

He nodded. "I will." His voice was barely a whisper.

She reached up and put her hand against his face, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. "I love you."

He nodded as their eyes met, feeling his insides twist in a way that hurt and felt good at the same time. He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing hard. What a strange woman she was...but Merlin, he was grateful.

When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell on the clock on the bookcase behind her. "What time were you supposed to meet my mother?" he asked, his voice still rough.

She turned towards the clock, and her eyes widened. "Oh no! I didn't realize...I've got to go." She looked up at him, and he could see her being torn between two things. "But if you need me to stay...I'm sure they'd understand...this is important...."

He touched her face lightly. "It's all right. You go."

"You're sure?"

"Quite."

She got up, suddenly in a hurry. "Heavens, I've got to run. They're meeting me in front of Madam Malkin's at three." She pulled the covers up over him as he leaned back into the pillows, and kissed him quickly. "I'll see you later, then?"

She rushed out of the door, and as he looked after her, thoughts swirling inside his head like leaves in the wind, one thing crystallized. If she still wished to be Bound to him, he would have no further objections. The ceremony would just confirm something that had slowly taken place over the last few months already, something that had only been cemented more firmly into place these last few days. For all intents and purposes, she had already bound herself to him. It only seemed fair to return the favor.