Survivors

CHAPTER 9

Remus Again

"You look like hell," Remus said cheerfully at breakfast the next morning.

"I feel like it," Hermione mumbled. Her eyes were sticky and dry, her mouth tasted like paste, she was slightly dizzy and her head was pounding slightly, and she felt grungy all over. In other words, she hadn't slept. Or showered. She had spent the remainder of the night lying in bed, trying to sleep while her brain whirred on overtime. She had finally dozed off about an hour before sunrise, which was late, it being nearly the winter solstice. She had just made it down in time to bolt a cup of coffee and a slice of toast before she needed to get to her first class. She didn't see Severus.

The owl post arrived with a flurry of wings about the Great Hall, four pairs of which headed for the staff table. A rolled parchment was dropped into Hermione's lap, and she saw Remus picking an identical one out of his scrambled eggs. Hermione pulled up the glasses she kept on a chain around her neck and shoved them onto her face, then blinked blearily at the parchment. It was an invitation to a joint reunion of the Order and the D.A., to take place the first week of winter recess at the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione looked over at Remus, who had also finished reading his. "Are you going to go?"

Remus cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "Are you?"

Hermione frowned. "It seems a bit strange, with the founders of both the Order and the D.A. dead," she said. Dumbledore and Harry.

Remus nodded solemnly. "Along with so many others." Tonks. Sirius.

"So do you want to skip it?" she asked.

Remus considered. "I wouldn't mind seeing Arthur again."

"It has been ages since I've seen Ron," Hermione admitted.

"And you were as much a founder of the D.A. as anyone," Remus pointed out.

"Oh, I just did a little organization, I could never have led it," Hermione quickly countered.

"I think you should go," Remus determined, stuffing the invitation into his pocket. "People might be disappointed if you didn't show up."

"I'll only go if you go," she said firmly.

Remus grinned. "It's a date!"

Hermione stood up to go. "Listen, Remus," she said, "there's something else I need to talk to you about. Can I come by tonight?"

"My door is always open," he said with a gracious smile.

"Thanks!" She managed to crack a smile for his sake.

As she passed down the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall, she saw Snape enter through the main doors. He looked as neat and rested as ever. Which meant that he either always went on very little or no sleep, or their meeting of the previous night hadn't fazed him a bit and he'd been able to drop off immediately after and sleep like a rock. Hermione found she would prefer it if the former were true. She watched him, hoping he would choose to walk up the side of the Great Hall that she was on, but of course he walked up the Slytherin side, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Again two possibilities. Either he hadn't seen her, or he was purposely avoiding her. The former again being Hermione's preference.

xOxOxOx

All night, Hermione had thought about what she had found out. First, the fact that Severus Snape had truly been a Death Eater, and not just posed as one. Of course, stupid of her not to think of it before, but Voldemort would have required proof of his followers' loyalty, meaning active participation in their activities. One could only beg off with a headache so many times.

What had the Death Eaters done that Severus would have been involved in? Hermione knew of the spectacular murders, of course. What other crimes had they been associated with? Explosions (the Muggles thought they were bombings). Widespread destruction (there had been that incident with the giant). Disappearances (Ollivander's body had never been found).

Had he actually killed people? Muggles and wizards? Somehow, she thought not; those were the highest-profile crimes, ones that were vigorously investigated and pursued both by Muggle law-enforcement and Ministry of Magic officials. As a spy, Severus would have been too valuable to Voldemort to risk blowing his cover, to say nothing of losing him to Azkaban, to assign such a mission to.

And perhaps Severus had had other uses for the Dark Lord; certainly he would have put his potion-making skills to good (or rather Dark) use. And what about his skills as a Legilimens? Maybe he had worked as an interrogator, plying prisoners with Veritaserum and mind probes. He was also a gifted spell researcher, having either re-discovered or come up with on his own Sectumsempra, Levicorpus, and Muffliato. Perhaps there were other spells which he had developed for the Death Eaters' cause.

The possibilities were both endless and disturbing. How far had he gone to keep himself in Voldemort's good graces? How much had been just playing a role, and how much had he done out of conviction? Had he, as Angelina believed, been playing both sides to save his own neck? Did it make a difference in the end?

Then there was the issue of the incredible power she had felt on the receiving end of his spell. Of course he would be capable of non-verbal magic, but such magical expressions were generally weaker than those initiated vocally, and he had still managed to knock her halfway across the room. It had taken the combined power of hers, Ron's, and Harry's Expelliarmus together to have a similar effect on Snape in the Shrieking Shack nearly a decade earlier. Of course, they had been young then, their powers not fully developed, and he was an adult wizard in his prime. Still, she had been subject to Expelliarmus before, and none of them had whomped her so thoroughly as his had last night.

With power like that, why was he teaching Potions to a bunch of snotty half-wits (as she recalled him referring to her and her fellow students)? During both of Voldemort's reigns of terror, Snape had used the teaching position both as a cover and as a way of being close to the Order, pass them information without arousing suspicions. And in between, when everyone had thought that Voldemort was dead, Snape had relied on Dumbledore's protection to keep him out of Azkaban. But now, with Voldemort well and truly gone, Snape's loyalty tried and proven before the Wizengamot, and Dumbledore deceased as well, what was keeping him at Hogwarts? Slytherins were supposed to be ambitious, drawn to positions of power and influence; even a relatively lazy man like Horace Slughorn had found a way to make himself important with a minimum of effort and risk. Severus Snape certainly had much greater faculties than most of the Slytherins Hermione had known, yet, since the Death Eaters had been disbanded, he did not choose to put them to use.

These were the questions that had made sleep so elusive for Professor Granger. Those, and...something else. Something that she wasn't sure what to make of. For she was starting to find Severus Snape...interesting.

xOxOxOx

Hermione hadn't seen Severus at lunch or dinner, either, and was already afraid that Minerva had fired him. Upon being questioned, however, the Headmistress had assured her that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would not have to recruit for a new Potions master midyear, although she would not divulge just what had transpired during "the chat".

Hermione decided not to go and seek him out this time, even if she did know now where his room was. It wasn't just that she wanted to respect his space, it was also that she didn't know how she should approach him now. Should she just pretend that nothing had happened? That seemed to be the best bet, especially as she didn't want to divulge to anyone what had occurred in Severus's quarters. Which was strange. Why wasn't she angry that he had knocked her down? If he had done the same thing to Angelina, Hermione had no doubt that Severus would be answering charges faster than you could say Wronski Feint. But somehow, what had happened in Severus's quarters seemed...personal. Intimate. Something between her and Severus. It was like he had entrusted her with a confidence, and was testing her to see whether she would break it. She didn't want to disappoint him.

Once she was finished with her grading, she went round to Remus's quarters just off the Gryffindor common room. When she got there, a third-year girl was already there, getting permission to stay at the castle over the recess; her parents were going skiing in Davos and didn't want to take the girl along. Remus approved the request, but it was clear he did it with mixed emotions: sympathy for the girl and disapproval of the parents. The girl was relieved, however, and quickly slipped past Hermione and back into the common room with a smile on her face.

Remus sighed and looked at Hermione with a sad smile. "Some parents just don't appreciate what they have."

Hermione closed the door behind her and smiled back, but cheekily. "My parents also used to go skiing every winter recess. I hated it! I was glad to be able to stay here!" She went over and flopped herself down on the couch.

Remus got up from his desk and stretched. "Tea?"

"Only if it'll put me to sleep. I'm dead tired." She halfheartedly stifled a yawn.

"That business with Severus keep you up last night?" Remus asked conversationally as he got the tea ready.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. How could he know? But no... "You mean the play and everything?" she said, trying to stay calm. "Yeah, I kept thinking about it." That much was true.

"It was rather upsetting. Aguacalora." A stream of steaming water spewed out of his wand into a waiting teapot. "I'm just glad he didn't really hurt you."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"Severus?"

"Mm-hm." Hermione watched Remus assembling cups, tea leaves, utensils. From the back, he moved like a much older man, stiff and with extra caution in every movement. His light brown hair was thin, but getting long and scruffy in the back. When he turned so that she saw his face in a quarter-profile, she noticed the silvery strands over his ears.

"Do you know what he did when he was with the Death Eaters?" She tried to keep her voice light, displaying interest but not the dark suspicions behind her query.

"He was a spy, fed them information." Remus brought a tray over with the teapot, cups, and sugar bowl, and set it on the table before the couch, then lowered himself stiffly onto the cushions. The full moon had been five days ago, but he still hadn't recovered fully from his transformation. It was getting harder as he got older.

Hermione slid back into the opposite corner of the couch and leaned back, making herself comfortable. "No, I mean what did he actually participate in. Their activities. He can't just have stood around watching them, can he? Voldemort must have demanded that he participate, at least in some things. To prove his loyalty."

"I really couldn't tell you. Severus never talked about that, at least not in my presence. He would inform the Order whenever he could if an attack was being planned. Sometimes he had no warning, and there was nothing that could be done. I think that was hard for him." He handed Hermione a cup.

"Thanks." Hermione balanced the scalding hot cup on the arm of the couch, steadying it with her thumb and forefinger on the handle.

"I would suppose that's why he saw himself in the character of Maggie," Remus went on, putting sugar into his own cup and then leaning back in his own corner. "She, too, was unable to help, even though she would have been in a position to do so."

"Mm-hm," Hermione agreed vaguely. She knew that that wasn't what was at the heart of Severus's crisis: it wasn't the fact that he had been forced not to help; it was that he had been forced to participate. Or perhaps not forced. "Do you think he ever killed anyone?" she asked suddenly.

Remus became still. "Do you mean apart from Albus?" he finally asked, staring into his teacup.

A coldness gripped Hermione's chest. Of course! Of course, of course, of course! Stupid of her not to have realized it before! Severus had been upset because he had had to kill Dumbledore for the Death Eaters. That's what he had been trying to tell her. But-- That would mean that he really had killed Dumbledore, despite the charges having been dropped. Dear gods in the heavens.

"Remus--" Hermione began, her throat constricted. "Do you-- Did he really kill Albus? I thought the Wizengamot had cleared him."

"From what I heard, he got off on a technicality. Mind you, I wasn't there, not that night on top of the Astronomy Tower, and not at the trial. But I think the consensus was that, while he was not at fault for Albus's death, he was the immediate cause of it."

"But what does that mean? Was he under Imperius?" Hermione would have found that hard to believe, a wizard with as powerful a mind as Severus had. Or was it an accident? But that wouldn't fit with what Harry had told them; he had clearly heard the Avada Kedavra, had clearly seen the green bolt striking the Headmaster.

"I don't believe so. At least, I never heard anything like that." He sighed. "Truthfully, Hermione, it wasn't something that we discussed in much detail. Before the trial, while Severus was being held in Azkaban, only Kingsley, as an Auror, was able to visit him; he did more than anyone to help prepare Severus's defense, although I gather that Severus himself was less than cooperative, so Kingsley didn't have much information to work with. I think he got more out of the surviving Death Eaters who had also been eye-witnesses than he did out of Severus. You might want to ask Minerva or Arthur, someone who actually attended the trial. Perhaps they can tell you more."

Hermione nodded, deep in thought. She would ask them.

"Now, enough about Severus," Remus said in a business-like manner. He leaned forward to put his half-empty cup down on the tray, then reached out an arm to Hermione. "Come here and tell me something more cheerful. Like what you and the boys used to get up to when you were rambling around this old castle while your parents went skiing."

Hermione settled back against Remus's chest, her hands clasping her cup, which was now pleasantly warm. "Well, I spent most of my time in the library, of course."

"Of course," Remus chuckled, giving her a squeeze around the shoulders. "The insatiable bookworm."

"It was a good thing I was!" Hermione exclaimed. "Otherwise we never would have figured out the basilisk, or-- or about the fact that Severus was the half-blood Prince." It seemed that Severus would always spring to her mind first.

"No," Remus said, and his voice seemed a tad less warm than it had been a few seconds earlier. "No, that's right, I don't suppose you would have," he agreed. "But you always were the clever one," he went on, regaining his cheer. "I don't know what Harry would have done without you."

Hermione fell silent and stared at the dregs of tea in the bottom of her cup.

Remus quickly clarified, "I mean of course all of your research, finding out what the Horcruxes were and directing him where to look."

"I know what you mean," Hermione said quietly.

"He would never have defeated You-Know-Who without your invaluable aid." He squeezed her shoulders again, more firmly.

Hermione felt her throat tightening. Strange. She hadn't gotten emotional about it in a long time.

"Hermione, it wasn't your fault," he whispered, and kissed the back of her head, then leaned his head against hers.

An uncomfortable feeling overcame Hermione. Danger signs. She: emotionally distraught. He: hugging and kissing her to comfort her. They: snuggled up on the couch in front of the fire. For all that the two of them had become comfortable around each other, Remus had never kissed her. Not even the back of her head. Oh dear.

Hermione leaned forward, under cover of putting her cup on the table. She made sure she had control of her voice, then said as casually as she could, "Well I'm done in. I'd best be off to bed, or the students will have to teach themselves tomorrow."

Remus cleared his throat, then said rather more loudly than necessary, "Right."

Hermione stood and smoothed her robes and her hair, then turned to Remus. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Remus. And for the information. I will talk to Minerva or Arthur."

Remus stood, too, and ran his hand over his own head. "Yes, do. I think they'll be able to help you more than I. Although, Hermione," he said, looking at her with a melancholy frown, "I'm not sure what your purpose is in dragging up all of this again now. It won't change anything."

"You know me, Remus," she said, putting on a cheery face, "insatiable bookworm, I just have to keep digging until I get the answer."

He escorted her to his door. "I do hope you find what you're looking for."

xOxOxOx

Hermione hurried to her room, fearing already that sleep tonight would be as elusive as it had been the previous evening.