The Quality of Mercy

I am so very sorry it took so long for me to update this story -- I had personal health reasons for not writing, and then when I started to feel better I was just horribly, horribly blocked (which is part of the reason why I started working on a Star Wars story...often when I'm feeling blocked with one project I'll go over to another to see if that helps me get unstuck). I know it can be frustrating, but I really do have quite a good track record with completing my fics (most of which are novel-length, so that's a lot of verbiage!). Anyway, let's see if we can't resolve that nasty cliffhanger, shall we?

Twenty: Out of the Frying Pan

Although her heart felt as if it had just lodged itself in her throat, Hermione did not withdraw the needle from Draco's arm. Not now, not when the syringe was almost full. She heard Pansy gasp and then stammer as she made half-hearted attempt to block to the door, "It's not what you think -- she's trying to help -- "

But Narcissa brushed past Pansy as if she weren't there and advanced on Hermione, wand out. At least Pansy's feeble protestations had delayed her mother-in-law long enough that Hermione was able to finish drawing Draco's blood and stow the filled syringe in the pouch on her belt. Once she had done so, she reached into her cloak and drew out her own wand. The last thing she wanted was to get into a duel with Narcissa, but Hermione also knew it was beyond foolish to face the enraged Mrs. Malfoy unarmed.

Even as Narcissa cried out, "Stupefy!", Hermione countered with "Protego!"

The two spells met in the space between the two women and cancelled one another out in a shower of sparks. Undeterred, Narcissa spat, "Petrificus totalis!"

Once again Hermione cast the Shield charm, and once again Narcissa's spell was foiled. This time Narcissa paused, her wand still held at the ready. Her pale blue eyes held a mixture of baffled anger and desperation. "You have no right to be here," she snapped. "How dare you invade our home, meddle with my son -- "

"As Pansy tried to tell you, I want to help your son," Hermione interrupted. Her heart still pounded in her breast, but she also noted that Narcissa had not attempted any of the Unforgivable Curses in her attack. Perhaps that strategy had stemmed simply from a desire to avoid a one-way trip to Azkaban, but perhaps she was not as certain in her righteous fury as she would like to pretend. At least, Hermione hoped so. She went on, "I'm not your enemy, Narcissa. Did you really think that hiding your husband and son away from the world would somehow help to cure them?"

Narcissa did not lower her wand. "You have no idea what you're talking about." She took one step toward Hermione, then another. "Who sent you here?"

Damn. Hermione gauged the distance between the window and herself and wondered if she should make a good, old-fashioned dash for it. If Pansy were a more capable witch, she might have disabled the Anti-Apparition spells long enough for Hermione to make her escape that way, but one swift glance at Pansy told Hermione the other woman probably wouldn't be able to contribute much to the situation. She stared, white-faced, at Narcissa, as if she expected her mother-in-law to Avada Kedavra Hermione into oblivion at any second.

"Who sent you?" Narcissa repeated. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her wand.

"As a matter of fact, I did," came Severus' voice from the doorway.

Both Pansy and Narcissa whirled. For a second Hermione thought Narcissa might drop her wand from shock, but then she appeared to gather herself.

"Severus Snape!" she exclaimed.

"None other," he drawled, and advanced into the room. Pansy backed away from him, dark eyes so wide Hermione thought she could see a ring of white all around them. Well, Pansy could be excused. After all, it wasn't every day you saw a dead man enter your husband's sick room.

"You're dead," Narcissa said, her tone flat. "Lucius said the Dark Lord killed you."

Severus crossed his arms. Despite the threadbare condition of his robes, he still looked every inch the Potions master. "The rumors of my death were, as you can see, greatly exaggerated. Do I look like a ghost?"

No, he did not. He looked solid and reassuring and blessedly, blessedly alive -- at least to Hermione. She knew neither Pansy nor Narcissa were at all reassured by Severus Snape's unexpected appearance.

He took advantage of their shocked paralysis to move farther into the room and step in front of Hermione, thus blocking her from any attacks Narcissa might still be contemplating.

"I will assume your lack of response indicates you weren't expecting me," he said. Then he turned to Hermione and lifted one eyebrow ever so slightly. In response to his unspoken question, she let her free hand rest on one of the pouches at her belt and nodded, just a little.

"Expecting you?" Narcissa burst out. "I'd as soon expect the Dark Lord to step through my front door!"

"Now, that truly would be disturbing, seeing as he is dead and I am not." He gave Narcissa a disapproving glare. "Really, Narcissa, what were you thinking? That enough peace and quiet would somehow magically restore your husband and son to health?"

At Severus' mocking question, Narcissa lifted her head and matched him stare for stare. She might have suffered a shock, but it was obvious to Hermione that Narcissa did not intend to let her husband's former friend intimidate her, not here on her home ground. "And what was I to do? Was there anyone who could help me? I didn't even know what was wrong with them! All I could do was keep them safely hidden, and hope against hope -- "

"There was no hope, and you knew it," Snape said, not bothering to moderate the harshness of his tone. Contempt curled his lip. "If you truly did not know what was wrong with them, you would have sought some sort of help. But you knew it was Scarbury's, didn't you? And so you hid them away, rather than suffer the shame of having the wizarding world know they were so afflicted."

Any of Hermione's former schoolmates would have cringed at being the object of such derision. But Narcissa was made of sterner stuff -- or perhaps she thought she had already suffered the worst, and so the Potions master's cold words had no power to hurt her. Her thin shoulders straightened, and she flung back at him, "Who would have done anything different? We've already been shunned by wizarding society -- we've lost everything!"

"Everything?" echoed Severus, as he gave their rich surroundings a quick, scornful glance.

But Narcissa affected not to notice -- or perhaps she was simply beyond caring what Severus Snape might think of her. "Yes, everything! Our standing, our respect! The name of Malfoy these days is little more than a mockery." She transferred her angry blue glare from Severus to Hermione, who had not moved during the previous exchange. "And if you were truly trying to help us, why did you send this little Mudblood to do your dirty work? Why not approach me directly?"

Hermione could see Severus' shoulders tense at Narcissa's use of the hated epithet, but he said only, "As to that, perhaps you should ask your daughter-in-law."

At once Narcissa rounded on Pansy, who very much looked as if she would like to melt into the paneling. "Pansy? What is he talking about?"

Feeling as if she should do something, Hermione took one step from behind the Potions master's protective shadow and said, "Pansy came to me for help."

The look Narcissa turned on her daughter-in-law could have melted through dragon hide. "What?"

Instead of cowering, however, Pansy straightened and looked Narcissa directly in the face, even though her own features were pale and Hermione could see the tremble of her lower lip from across the room. "I had to do something! She'd offered to help -- what did I care if she was Muggle-born? What had you done, except put Draco and Lucius in this room and try to pretend nothing had gone wrong?"

The sound of Narcissa's hand striking Pansy's cheek seemed shockingly loud. Hermione gasped at almost the same moment Pansy cried out, and at once Severus snapped, "Petrificus totalus!"

Narcissa froze in place, and matched Severus glare for glare.

"That," he said, his voice even more chilling for its controlled silkiness, "was uncalled for. Physical violence solves nothing -- and Pansy only spoke the truth. You had done nothing to help your husband and son, and no doubt she felt desperate enough that even enlisting the services of Mrs. Granger-Weasley here was better than waiting around and hoping for some miraculous cure."

Since the spell still held her frozen in place, Narcissa could only manage a stifled "hmph!"

Severus did not smile, but Hermione thought she saw the smallest curl of his lip, the one that indicated a secret amusement. "Do you promise to behave yourself if I release the spell?"

Another "hmph!" was his only reply, but he seemed to find that acceptable. "Finite incantatem," he said, in bored tones, and Narcissa was free to move once more.

Her dagger-sharp gaze plainly stated what she thought of such treatment, but apparently she decided confronting Severus was not a very good idea. Refusing to look at Pansy, who still held one hand to her cheek as if she couldn't quite believe her mother-in-law had just struck her, she said, "Pansy's foolishness aside, that doesn't explain how you came to be involved in all this."

A negligent lift of his shoulders under the enveloping black robes. "Mrs. Granger-Weasley approached me for advice. I saw no reason not to give it to her."

For all the cool indifference in his tone, he might have been speaking of one of his former colleagues at Hogwarts. Of course Hermione realized it would be foolish -- and unnecessary -- for him to reveal anything of his relationship with her, but still she felt rather taken aback by his attitude. If she hadn't known better, she herself would have been fooled.

"And how is it she even knew you were alive?" challenged Narcissa, who gave all the appearance of someone who would continue a fight long after she had lost it. "When the entire wizarding world -- including Lucius, your closest friend -- thought you had been dead these five years!"

Severus allowed a small sigh to escape his lips. "My dear Narcissa, do you really want me to bore you with the accomplishments of Mrs. Granger-Weasley here? Suffice it to say that she, unlike everyone else, was not ready to take things at face value. She was able to locate me when no one else could be bothered. While I might mourn the loss of my solitude, I will admit a slight satisfaction in feeling useful again." Again he shrugged. "But enough of that. You wished to know what Mrs. Granger-Weasley was doing to your son. She was taking a sample of his blood for analysis. We believe the only possibility of a cure lies at the genetic level, and of course we required sufficient material to make a proper study."

Narcissa's face had assumed a half-grudging, half-hopeful expression. "Sounds like Muggle claptrap to me."

"I suppose it would. That is neither here nor there. What matters is whether we can effect a cure, does it not?"

Throughout this exchange Hermione had remained silent, knowing that Narcissa would give Severus' words far greater credence than anything she herself might say. At this point, however, she felt compelled to add, "I truly meant only to help. But I didn't know if you would be receptive, and Sev -- I mean, Professor Snape felt it might be better to present you with a fait accompli -- "

"Exactly," Pansy put in, as if Hermione's remark had finally given her the courage to speak. "What a surprise it would have been -- "

"Yes, a huge surprise to see this Mudblood girl invading my home," Narcissa interrupted.

"I would appreciate it if you would not refer to my research associate in such a way," Severus said, and his mouth thinned. "Do not think I would trust just anyone with such an important matter. She has proven invaluable already."

"Yes, so capable that she required you to rescue her," replied Narcissa, and Hermione bristled. She opened her mouth to speak, but Severus forestalled her by saying,

"Such a 'rescue,' as you put it, should not have been necessary. However, our long acquaintance told me that it was better to keep an eye on Mrs. Granger-Weasley, as I had a suspicion you might try to interfere."

Narcissa looked outraged. "How is protecting my son and my husband 'interfering'? There is a reason my home is protected against Apparition, so that I won't have to deal with interlopers such as she." Her eyes narrowed, and she shot Severus a suspicious glance. "How did you get in, anyway? The anti-Apparition spells should have kept you out."

"Your home is protected, Narcissa, but not your cellars." Severus' face wore an expression of cold amusement. "An oversight that perhaps you thought no one would exploit, but an oversight nonetheless. If Lucius had been less eager to show off the contents of those cellars, I might not be here. But might-have-beens are of little use to anyone."

Pansy had been watching this exchange with her gaze darting back and forth, rather like someone attending a particularly engrossing tennis match. As Narcissa paused, obviously searching for a proper retort, Pansy inquired, "Do you think you can do it? Prepare a cure, I mean."

"That is my intention," Severus replied. "But I cannot give you a definitive answer until Mrs. Granger-Weasley and I begin our research with the samples she's collected."

His words gave Hermione the opening she needed. "And we really would like to get started as soon as we can. Don't you agree, Professor?"

He nodded. "Yes. It's quite clear that we have little time to waste. It's also quite clear that we will work best uninterrupted. So then -- "

At first Hermione wasn't sure what he was about. His wand appeared in his hand, and he moved so quickly that the thin rod was only a black blur. Pansy and Narcissa did not have time to even flinch before he snapped, "Obliviate!"

Their eyes went glassy and unfocused. Severus grasped Hermione by the hand and said, "Don't let go." Then he was running toward the window as she struggled to keep up with his long strides, running even as the window flung itself open and he launched himself through into the misty night outside. Hermione could not understand the words he muttered under his breath, but they had to be the charm that held them up, which allowed Severus to swoop through the cold, damp air like the overgrown bat everyone had once called him.

She had heard the Dark Lord himself had taught Severus this spell, but now, as she hung onto her lover's hand for dear life, she could not find anything dark about this magic. The sensation was utterly unlike riding a broom or even the Hover charm she had utilized earlier to get into the bedroom Draco and Lucius shared. Cold air whipped through her loose hair, and the ground moved beneath her with unthinkable speed, trees and roads and houses all one dim, gray blur. It was magnificent.

At length, though, after Severus must have put at least ten miles or so between them and Malfoy Manor, he brought their flight to an end. They came back to the earth at a crossroads surrounded by open fields, with no street lights or even passing cars to break up the darkness.

"That was marvelous!" she gasped. Her voice sounded hoarse even to herself, probably from drinking in huge gulps of damp night air. "Will you teach me that spell?"

He smiled then, or at least Hermione thought he did, it being difficult to tell in the dark. "My Hermione," he said, and something inside her began a slow melt at the rueful fondness of his tone. "I would say such a thing should be rather low on your list of priorities at the moment."

"All right," she replied, and gave him a grin of her own. "After we cure Lucius and Draco, then."

"Agreed." Severus reached out to her and brought her close against him -- but not to kiss her. No, he whirled, and the misty night faded around them, only to be replaced by the sepia fire-lit space of his cottage in Yorkshire. He released her, much to Hermione's regret. It would have been just fine with her if he'd allowed the closeness required by Side-Along Apparition to be replaced by something a bit more intimate.

But he was already moving toward the table where they'd placed all their potions supplies the day before. She hesitated, then said, "Thank you, Severus."

Without looking back, he responded, "For what?"

"For my rescue."

He paused. Then he did turn to face her. "Then I suppose I should thank you as well."

Mystified, Hermione found herself echoing his earlier question. "For what?"

"Did you not rescue me as well?"

She searched for the expected irony in his expression and found none. Again she felt that stirring inside, that ache she experienced whenever he allowed even the briefest glimpse into his buried emotions. In answer she went to him and reached out her arms. This time there was no hesitation; he drew her close and bent down his head to hers. Their lips touched, and it was as if her blood had once again turned to fire, running hot and molten along every artery and vein. She wanted to melt into him, to feel their bodies once more as if they were a single being.

But some small sane part of her mind remained, the one that told her she and Severus had work to do. Time enough for that sort of thing later, after Draco and Lucius had been cured. So she pulled away as the kiss ended, and said, "You're a very distracting man, Severus Snape."

He understood at once, of course. Stepping away from her, he moved at once to the dining room table and shifted a few flasks out of the way. "Let us see what the Malfoy blood has to tell us."

-----------

There was no question of her returning to work the next day, of course -- not when her real work was here, in Severus' cottage. The morning after her expedition to Malfoy Manor, Hermione returned to her own home just long enough to pack the rest of the items she thought she might require, and to use her fireplace to get in contact with Miles and tell him, in severely congested but regretful tones, that all the usual phlegm-reducing potions didn't seem to be helping at all, and that she was unsure as to when she might return to work. Reading another person's expression through fire talking was difficult, but it almost seemed to her that Miles was pleased by the promise of her extended absence. He said all the right things, of course, exhorting her to rest and drink plenty of fluids, but she couldn't miss his nervous smile as he signed off.

No time to worry about that now. Quite possibly he was just relieved to have her out of the way. Hermione knew previous coworkers had complained that her prodigious output made the rest of them look bad, and she supposed even someone who was her supervisor might feel the pressure to perform when confronted by an underling who didn't know the meaning of the phrase "slacking off."

When she returned to the cottage, she found Severus standing at the dining room table as he stared at what looked like an overlarge ruby that hung suspended in midair. It wasn't a jewel, however, but a large droplet of either Lucius' or Draco's blood, spelled to remain in place.

"Magnifying spell?" Hermione inquired, as she drew off her traveling cloak and hung it from the coat tree in the corner.

"Yes," he said shortly, and crossed his arms. "But not magnifying enough."

"Perhaps I should nip back to London and see about appropriating an electron microscope from one of the labs at college."

He did not smile. Instead, the familiar line etched itself between his brows. "Muggle technology will not help us cure something that is an inherently magical disease."

Hermione knew that, of course. Her joke had fallen woefully flat; Severus was in no mood to be teased at the moment. She wondered if he ever was.

"I've been thinking about that," she said, then came to stand next to him. "Mind if I give it a shot?"

His tone sour, he replied, "By all means," and made a mocking gesture with one hand toward the droplet of blood.

She didn't know if the spell would work. But nothing ventured --

Drawing out her wand, Hermione cried, "Amplio multum!"

At once the droplet expanded to a shining red sphere, one in which she could see smaller objects moving about in a sluggish, random way.

"Those are the red and the white blood cells," she said. "And the smaller objects, the odd blobby little ones, are the platelets."

For a moment Severus did not reply. Hermione worried whether he was somehow offended that her spell had worked, or that she was in possession of far more Muggle-based knowledge about human physiology than he would have liked. But then he bent closer to inspect the enlarged sample, his black eyes bright with curiosity. "Interesting," he said.

"It's a start," she replied. "But we need far more magnification than this in order to find what we're looking for. Let's see what happens when we enlarge it again. Do you want to try?"

In answer he drew out his wand and repeated the words of the spell. The sample enlarged itself once again, so much so that Hermione jumped backward to avoid getting hit by its outer periphery. The shapes within grew more convoluted, twisting around themselves in odd spiraling patterns.

DNA, she thought, and felt a sense of awe as she looked at the very building blocks of the human body. The pattern was so intricate she didn't see how they would ever begin to unravel it. At least now we can see it, she told herself. That's a start.

"What next?" she asked.

Severus gestured toward the sample. "Much of this is the same as it would be in any human being," he said. "Determinants for hair color, eye color, height, allergies...all the commonplaces. But somewhere in there is also the gene that triggers Scarbury's Syndrome, something we can separate out from all the factors that made Lucius, Lucius. But how do we find it?"

Without replying, Hermione circled the sample, staring at it with narrowed eyes. Its very complexity seemed to mock her. Where on earth could they possibly begin? The whole thing seemed hopeless, but she knew better. Muggle scientists worked with these sorts of samples every day and came up with astounding -- well, to Muggles, anyway -- cures. There was no reason why she and Severus couldn't do the same. They just had to go about it in a slightly different manner.

"It's a disease that only affects pureblood wizards," she said, speaking slowly as she worked the concepts through to their logical conclusion. "So it stands to reason that the marker for Scarbury would also be magical in some way. And if that's the case, then we'll need to come up with a way to detect it."

Severus nodded. "Very good. You and I are thinking along the same lines." He lifted his wand once more. "Magus revelatio!"

It was rather like looking at a set of Christmas lights being plugged in, albeit a string where well over half the bulbs were burned out. Random segments along the DNA strands flickered to life, glowing a pale golden color. The dancing lights cast odd shadows across Severus' harsh features.

"Interesting," he said again, after returning his wand to a hidden pocket in his robes.

"That can't all be Scarbury's, can it?" Hermione asked. Could the disease have so thoroughly contaminated Lucius Malfoy's DNA?

"No," Severus replied. He frowned. Suddenly the shadows beneath his eyes looked far more pronounced. "I believe the spell has simply revealed all the portions of Lucius' genetic code that are magical. I suppose it was short-sighted of us to think there would only be one or two markers which were magical in nature. After all, the ability to do magic is part of the very core of our beings. Obviously it is closely intertwined with our DNA as well."

Fighting a sense of growing futility, Hermione said, "But how can we ever hope to narrow it down?" She would not give up this early, of course, but any hope she might have had that this would be a quick or easy process was rapidly disappearing.

"We'll need another sample, one of a wizard unaffected by Scarbury's Syndrome."

Lifting her eyes to meet Severus' level black gaze, she realized that of course they would require such a sample, one which could work as a control in their experiments. "It should be mine, don't you think? I still have some syringes left in my pouch."

She'd halfway expected him to demur, to offer his own blood as a sample instead. But he only nodded. "Go and fetch them."

The pouch was upstairs in Severus' bedroom, along with the rest of her things. Hermione went to retrieve the syringes, feeling a faint heat in her cheeks as her gaze fell on the neatly made bed. It hadn't been quite so neat this morning after their exertions of the night before. They had worked until almost midnight, but they hadn't fallen asleep until nearly three.

Somehow she doubted there would be a repeat performance tonight, however. Although it was only midday, already she felt tired, daunted by the work she and Severus faced. Perhaps he had been so passionate the previous night because he knew it was the calm before the storm, a small breathing space before their true work began.

Hermione hurried downstairs and handed one of the syringes to Severus. He took it from her, passing the needle through a candle flame in order to sterilize it. "Your arm," he instructed.

Damn -- she'd forgotten to retrieve the surgical tubing to help bring her veins to prominence. Instead she squeezed her hand into a fist several times, and pushed up the sleeve of her jumper. "The vein in this arm is easier to find, I think."

His fingers were cold as they flicked against the skin of her crooked elbow. He paused, the needle a scant inch from her flesh, when a tinny little bell rang from a string that hung in the corner of the dining room.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Apparition alarm," he replied, then set the syringe down on the dining room table. Face set into grim lines, he went to the front door. Hermione followed, her heart beating a little faster as she thought of the ringing bell and everything it implied. Not a simple intruder alarm -- only a wizard arriving on Severus' property would have set it off. It was how he had caught her, all those weeks ago.

Severus opened the door. On the front step stood Harry Potter. He looked past Severus to Hermione, his green eyes blazing with triumph behind his spectacles.

"I thought I would find you here," he said.