Disclaimer – Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR. I thought it might be a real treat for my readers to get an update a little more quickly than last time (I still can’t believe it took me 2 years to write a chapter - yikes). Special thanks to Rose (my beta goddess) and Lynn (for prodding me with a pointy stick) and Imhilien (for keeping me motivated with her much more frequent updates)..

Chapter 12 - Of Potter and Portraits

Severus Snape had imagined several scenarios as to the next time he saw Harry Potter and they had all involved violence, colourful metaphors and a visit to the infirmary. After all, they both had ties to the same woman…although he seriously doubted Harry knew that just yet.

With that thought, Severus’ expression became considerably less severe and he focused on the task of pouring two glasses of cognac. There was a time when he would have gloated and inflicted as much torment as possible upon a jilted lover but…he was no longer that vindictive person.

And this was not James Potter.

Shaking his head slightly, Severus picked up the two glasses and walked over to where Harry was sitting on an ottoman. The younger wizard was prodding the fire with a poker and had a calm expression on his face. Severus wondered what was going through his mind.

“I can assure you that there isn’t a drop of Veritaserum in the glass,” Severus commented, holding the glass out.

Harry turned to him and smiled. Setting the poker down, he stood and stretched for a moment before accepting the glass.

“Typical,” he said quietly as he downed the contents of the glass quickly.

Severus took a sip and regarded Harry. The last several months had not been kind to him. It startled him to realize that his former student looked resigned…almost defeated.

It worried him.

“You must be wondering why I’m here,” Harry looked at the empty glass and turned to look at Severus.

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Severus admitted. “I imagined that I would be rather low on your list of social calls.”

“I needed a night to just…talk,” Harry hesitated, turning again to the fire.

Severus waited for Harry to continue, taking another sip from his glass.

“You and I have never been friends…I certainly have come to respect the work you have done for the Order but…it doesn’t mean that I like you.”

Again, Severus did not reply.

“But you may be the only person who sees me as anything other than something out of a prophecy…to be coddled and protected because of some cataclysmic battle that is to come.”

Harry turned to Severus.

“You are the only person I trust to tell me the truth…even if you knew I wouldn’t like it.”

Severus looked at his drink for a moment.

“I have always thought you capable of much more than the others have led you to believe. I have always taken prophecies with the proverbial grain of salt. What you accomplish against the Dark Lord will depend on your abilities and your skill…not the hushed whisperings of a drunken seer,” Severus agreed calmly, looking at Harry.

“If there were no prophecy…what would you think of me?” Harry asked, turning again to the fire.

Severus took a quiet sip of the cognac in an effort to collect his thoughts. He felt that he had to tread very carefully but, at the same time, knew it would be disastrous to try to lie.

“You are a skilled wizard, Potter...a bit too headstrong and presumptuous, but skilled nonetheless. You have an understandable vendetta against the Dark Lord but that does not set you apart. It is your conviction that this is the right thing to do and your ability to convince others of this fact…this is what sets you apart. The prophecy…is meaningless…not worth talking about,” Severus commented, taking another sip from his glass and frowning at how quickly the cognac was disappearing.

“What do you think of Dumbledore?”

Severus paused before raising a questioning glance to the Man-Who-Continued-To-Live.

“I believe the Headmaster is doing what he thinks is right,” he finally replied in a careful tone.

“I thought you might say that. Very diplomatic…but what does it mean? Do you agree with what he is doing?” Harry sounded quite distressed.

Severus looked at Harry and, for a moment, felt a wave of sympathy so powerful that it completely overwhelmed him. They were not so very different…they had both lost their childhood…their youth. What was left for either of them after this was all over?

“No, Harry. I do not agree.”

Harry nodded, moving closer to a window and looking out.

“That’s why I came here…because, despite everything, you’re the only one willing to tell me a truth that everyone feels but no one admits.”

Harry turned to face Severus. “I feel like Atlas, holding up the weight of the world, but chained at the same time. I’m considered this chosen one but I’m not allowed to choose my own path. Every movement has to relate back to that accursed cloudy ball of prophetic nonsense. I wish Sybil had kept her mouth shut!!!”

There was a sudden cracking noise and Severus realized that Harry had crushed the glass in his hand. Blood was dripping on the floor but Harry wasn’t even aware of either the glass or his injuries.

“Potter…Harry…sit down,” Setting down his own glass and taking out his wand, Severus made the broken glass and the blood disappear and quickly healed the cuts on his hand. He guided the younger man back to the ottoman.

“I just want to be Harry…just want to go out, drink butterbeer and play Quidditch. I’m so tired of being everyone’s saviour,” Harry muttered, looking at his healed hand with little interest. “Thanks, by the way.”

Severus sat down on a nearby chair and steepled his fingers. This was a delicate situation and he inwardly cursed the Headmaster for having brought it to be.

“Harry, what is your deepest desire?”

The younger wizard looked rather defensive.

“I’m not some sort of lecherous fiend, Harry. Let me rephrase that…what would you hope to do with your life after the Dark Lord is defeated?”

“That’s easy. Play Quidditch…see the world…have fun,” Harry shrugged.

“With whom?”

Harry was about to speak and then stopped.

“Harry?”

“That’s not an easy question for me to answer.”

“Why not?”

Harry sighed and put his head in his hands. “I have two friends who mean more to me than anything. They’ve sacrificed a lot to help me and continue to make sacrifices for me.”

Severus waited.

“Would you think me a horrible monster if I said I would want to spend the foreseeable future on my own?”

“Does it really matter what I think? Many people already think of me as a horrible monster…probably with far greater justification.”

“I don’t want to stick around and see everyone settle into a normal life. I don’t think a normal life is possible for me.”

“What about Hermione?”

Harry stood up and walked over to an overfull bookshelf and pretended to be interested in a text on Persian potions masters of the 15th century.

“I’ll always love her…”

Severus sensed the hesitation…this was not the declaration of undying love he had been fearing.

“You sound…uncertain.”

“She will never be happy with me, Snape. I know that. I know myself well enough to realize that I’m not what she needs. She has set aside all her dreams and goals for me…I never really wanted that…but have been too weak to let her go. I’ve been so selfish…hanging on…like some kind of sick parasite.”

“We all have our reasons to be selfish…that does not make us parasites. It is only when we refuse to see our selfishness as just that…see it as our Merlin-given right…well, I would say that is when it is a problem,” Severus replied carefully. “What about Ron?”

“I don’t know…I think he would probably feel betrayed.”

“And Hermione would not?”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There has been…a lot of distance over the last couple of years. I think…she would be relieved…to know, one way or the other. I’ve postponed the wedding so many times…I think she probably already knows.”

“You should still tell her. She has a right to know. Perhaps…a discussion would be beneficial on both parts.”

“I know,” Harry nodded, refusing to look at Severus and focusing instead on the books. “But I can’t…regardless of how this ends…she will be hurt…and I never wanted that. I never wanted any of my friends to suffer.”

Severus reached over for his glass and drained it. “You know that she is no longer at Hogwarts?” he asked.

“The Headmaster sent me an owl to that effect. I’m not happy about it…would rather that she stayed at Hogwarts. I almost replied with a Howler,” Harry muttered angrily. “Beauxbatons! I mean…it isn’t the safest place.”

“She has considerable skill and would be a formidable enemy to face under any circumstances,” Severus commented.

Harry nodded but his expression quickly became dark.

“I’m also here to tell you that there is a traitor in the Order,” he said quietly. “I don’t know who…I have suspicions but nothing concrete.”

“Who do you suspect?” Severus asked.

“Not you…I have faith in your loyalty to the Order,” Harry quickly replied. “I can’t really say anything more until I have evidence. I haven’t spoken about it to anyone…if I am wrong, the repercussions could be enormous. I’d rather be sure and then…”

“And then?”

“And then I will deal with it,” Harry said with a look of grim satisfaction. “Just be sure not to tell anyone about where Hermione has gone.”

“I’m afraid that will be impossible…several people already know.”

Harry cursed under his breath. “I can’t do anything about that short of Obliviating everyone.”

“I will ask the others to be discrete…it is a situation that can be adequately managed,” Severus pointed out. “Harry…I must ask…does the Headmaster know you are here?”

Harry looked uncomfortable. “No. Are you going to tell him?”

“Not without your consent…I do understand the necessity for discretion. Should I tell Hermione…she has been quite concerned for you.”

“It might be best if she didn’t know I was here…I don’t know,” Harry sighed dejectedly and Severus could see the pain that was clearly etched on his former student’s face. He felt somewhat ill.

“It is late…and, to be frank, you look exhausted…I can offer you the guest bedroom if you like.”

Harry looked surprised.

“I do remember some of the niceties of polite society,” Severus smirked.

The smile that graced Harry’s face did not reach his eyes and, again, Severus was unprepared for the sudden sense of kinship with the young wizard in front of him. While he knew enough of his background to want to curse the Muggle family that raised him, he had never gone out of his way to understand the man that his former student had become.

“He has been surrounded by people who have either abused him or worshipped him,” he thought as he watched Harry pick up the poker and start moving the glowing embers. “How does one cope with the expectations of the entire wizarding world?”

“If I don’t make it, I have all my affairs in order,” Harry stated suddenly.

“That is a practical decision…if somewhat morbid,” Severus replied cautiously.

“My parents left me a small fortune at Gringotts. I’ve set aside a fair amount for Ron and Hermione…enough for them to have a happy life…but the rest…it’s to go to St. Mungo’s,” Harry didn’t look at Severus.

“Why?”

Harry finally turned to Severus. “My parents are dead and there is nothing I can do about that. I accepted a long time ago that I would never have the chance to see them. But there are a lot of patients at St. Mungo’s who could be brought back…could be reunited with their families. I…I want Neville’s parents to know their grandchild.”

Severus was taken aback by the raw emotion on Harry’s face.

“You have to promise me something,” Harry continued. “Actually, you have to promise me two things.”

“Why me?”

Harry didn’t answer. “Promise me that you will administer that money in projects of true value. I know that you have spent considerable time on similar projects and you will know what ventures have real promise and are worth funding. You know, your skills as a Potions Master would be very useful if you ever wanted to get away from Hogwarts and all the dunderheads.”

“And the second thing?”

Harry sighed. “Look after Hermione. If I don’t have the chance to tell her…please tell her for me. I know you are close…a lot closer than she and I were. I’m not blind, you know and I’m not angry about it…maybe I should be…but I’m too tired now. I just want this to be over and to have some sort of peace. That’s all that’s left for me now...the only thing I look forward to.”

“Harry…what you ask…”

“I know I can trust you. Even though you have been a Death Eater, a spy and a traitor…I do trust you and I know you’ll do what’s best for her.”

Severus did not know what to say. The situation was quickly becoming surreal.

“I should go. I don’t want to attract any unwanted attention,” Harry took out his wand and ran a finger along it. “Not that I’m not ready for it.”

“I’ll…I’ll show you out,” Severus walked with Harry in silence to the door and opened it.

Harry stood at the open door and the moonlight outlined his form. There was something so final in his expression. It unnerved Severus and, again, he felt a strong pang of guilt. Harry had been so…accepting…of the situation with Hermione. There was no anger or resentment…just a calm acceptance.

“Harry…please…take care,” Severus stretched out his hand.

Harry grinned suddenly and shook his hand.

“I still don’t like you, Snape,” he said before Disapparating.

It was some time before Severus went back inside the manor.

The next morning, Severus made his preparations to go to St. Mungo’s. After sending a house elf to tell the Headmaster that he was off, he stepped into his fireplace and hurtled along the secure floo link towards the esteemed Wizarding hospital.

Despite the time that had passed since the attacks, the scene was still one of sheer bedlam. Areas had been cordoned off with anti-trespassing spells to protect any magical evidence that could be gleaned. There were flashes of cameras and the constant hum of forensic spells and, for a moment, it made Severus wish that he hadn’t come.

“Severus Snape!” a loud voice reached his ears and he turned around with a smile.

“Margaret…I said I would come and help you and here I am,” he accepted her warm embrace with grace. She was of the same stock as Molly Weasley…excessively maternal and overwhelmingly nurturing.

He rather liked her and respected her ability to heal the worst of magical ailments and injuries.

Much like Molly Weasley, this was not a witch to be tested.

“A Slytherin who’s true to his word…what is the world coming to?” Margaret laughed. “It’s nice to see you in one piece.”

“I thought that might be helpful,” Severus snarked gently.

Margaret smiled but then sobered quickly. “It’s been awful, Severus. The investigators the Ministry have been sending me are no better than first year students. Totally incompetent, the lot of them.”

“The Ministry is having difficulty recruiting new investigators…they tend to turn up dead,” Severus said quietly.

“I know about that…Arthur was here trying to help out. Poor man…his heart is in the right place…too bad we can’t have about a hundred of him…and a couple of dozen of you for good measure,” Margaret mused, rubbing her temples with a slight grimace.

“Headache?” Severus asked.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Margaret assured him. “Would you like to see Frank and Alice before we get to work?”

Severus nodded and followed his friend. As they passed the hallways and patient rooms, it was easy to see that the Death Eaters had tried to destroy as much of the facility as possible. There didn’t appear to be a plan other than to create chaos and disrupt the normal running of the hospital.

In a word, it didn’t make sense.

“Do we have any idea what they were after, Margaret?” he asked.

“Nothing yet,” Margaret answered as they waited for the elevator. “There were casualties but none of them were of any great importance…well, other than to their own families, of course. What I mean is…nothing that warranted the attention of the Death Eaters or Voldemort.”

“Is anything missing?” Severus asked as they got on the elevator.

“We haven’t had time to do a complete inventory. Looks like some supplies might have been nicked but we won’t know for certain for another couple of days.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered. “There had to be a reason to come here.”

“I believe that as well…I get the definite impression that this was a practice run…a preparation for something bigger…but…”

“You have no proof.”

Margaret nodded as the elevator door opened.

“You know where to go, Severus. I’ll wait for you in my office. Take your time,” she softly touched his shoulder as if to encourage him to go forward.

With a quick nod, he walked over to where his friends were.

Stepping behind the privacy curtain, he sat down on the little stool that was situated between their cots.

“Hello, Frank. Hello, Alice. It’s Severus. I’ve come to visit you and make sure you are all right,” Severus said in a gentle voice.

There was no response and, despite knowing that, it still hurt Severus.

“I wanted you both to know that I have not given up in curing you. I have found some promising leads in a Tunisian dark arts history and I hope to set up trials in a few months.”

Alice turned to her side and let out a soft sigh of breath. Severus, on an impulse, held her hand.

“You’re going to be a grandmother soon, Alice. I know that Neville has probably already told you but I thought you might like to hear it again. I won’t let you miss out on that…I swear it to you,” he said earnestly.

But Alice said nothing and Severus released her hand.

Turning to Frank, Severus placed a hand on his friend’s heart.

“I swear I won’t give up, Frank. I still have that bottle of cognac waiting for us at Hogwarts. We were going to drink it together…remember? It’s still there.”

But Frank, like his wife, said nothing.

Standing, Severus looked with sadness on his friends.

“I won’t give up,” he whispered as he turned to go.

But he didn’t get far before running into Neville Longbottom.

“Hullo Professor Snape,” he said with a shy grin.

Severus was genuinely pleased to see Neville and was again struck by the fact that he looked so much like his father.

“Hello, Neville. How is your wife?”

Neville grinned. “The cravings are terrible but we’re managing.”

Severus nodded, even though his experience with pregnant women was practically nonexistent.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I overheard what you were saying to my parents,” Neville said. “I know I’ve told you many times and you’re probably sick of me saying it but…it means a lot to me that you haven’t given up on them…just like I haven’t.”

“They were my friends before they became your parents,” Severus pointed out. “I owe them a great deal and, even if I can find the means to bring them back, my debt to them will not be paid. They’ve missed out on so much…with a grandchild on the way…it is unbearable to think they will miss that as well.”

“It does hurt a lot. I was satisfied to hear that Rodolphus was killed...although it’s probably pretty terrible of me to say so. Is Tonks all right?”

“Who told you?”

“Sirius. He was here earlier this morning. Mad as hell and wanted to make sure my parents were okay.”

Severus ran his hand through his hair. “Rodolphus is dead by Remus’ hand but Malfoy and Bellatrix are still free. Of the three, Rodolphus was the weakest and, as such, is no great loss to the Dark Lord.”

“Still, I’m glad he’s dead. Someone like that…doesn’t deserve to live,” Neville said quietly.

“I agree. Now, I must speak with the deputy head mediwitch and I’m sure you would like some time with your parents. Please pass along my compliments to your wife and congratulations to you both,” Severus shook Neville’s hand.

“Thanks, Professor,” Neville replied.

Severus exited the room and made his way quietly towards Margaret’s office. There were several portraits of past head mediwitches and mediwizards and they nodded at him amicably. Well, at least the ones who were awake did.

“I was hoping that I would catch up with you here,” a familiar voice made him stop and turn to his left. There, standing beside the sleeping founder of St. Mungo’s was the Professoressa.

“Professoressa?” he whispered. “How did you know I would be here?”

The woman in the portrait smiled at him. “A woman cannot give away all her secrets, Professore. There must always be an element of mystery.”

Despite the fatigue that threatened to crush him, Severus smiled and nodded.

“She worries about you a great deal,” she continued. “I cannot see her often…the others might talk…but I have spoken to her.”

“Typical Gryffindor…worries about everyone else,” he muttered. “Is she all right?”

“She is a Gryffindor, as you so kindly pointed out. While she is certainly suffering from ennui, there is no doubt that her spirit remains strong. She misses you,” the portrait regarded him warmly. “She loves you very deeply.”

“I am not the sort of man who waxes romantic…Merlin knows I have precious little experience in any sort of strong emotion other than hatred,” Severus sighed, leaning against the wall. “But I do love her.”

“I know…and, more importantly, she knows. It will give you both the strength to overcome whatever ostacoli come between you.”

“You didn’t come here simply to talk about Hermione,” Severus pointed out.

The portrait shook her head. “I have been speaking to the other portraits. It is very frustrating that there are so many restrictions on what they can and cannot tell.”

“Patient confidentiality must be upheld at all times, Professoressa,” Severus replied. “In a place such as this, it’s of the utmost importance. There are many important wizards and witches here.”

“Lucius Malfoy was here,” she whispered, looking around fearfully.

“What?” Severus hissed angrily.

“He knew Hermione was to have been taken from Hogwarts and he thought she might be hidden here, under an enchantment…a glamour.”

“How could he possibly know that?” Severus was baffled.

“He has an informant…he did not say who.”

“There were others?” Severus asked, still trying to digest this latest piece of astonishing news. Who would betray them? He wished Harry had given him some clue as to who he suspected.

“Yes,” the portrait replied. “There were at least four others. They made their way through the wards, casting anti-glamour spells and many Unforgivable Curses. Lucius captured your friend and was trying to read her mind with Legilemens when the Aurors arrived. It looked as if he considered…violating her.”

“She didn’t mention that.”

“He cast a memory charm on her before Disapparating. She had been trying to protect your friends,” she pointed out.

“Frank and Alice…yes, Lucius would have some interest in seeing them again,” Severus muttered angrily. “He probably thought, since Hermione has been known to visit them now and again and is a good friend of their son, that she might have been sequestered here.”

“It is a thought process not without logic,” the portrait replied. “What will you do about Margaret?

“I won’t tamper with her memories,” Severus replied heavily.

The portrait started to protest.

“Professoressa, please. I do not have the time to do this properly and I will not risk hurting her. Her role here is critical and we need her. For all I know, Lucius planted a curse that can only be triggered by a memory removal spell.” He shook his head, “I will not take the chance…she is my friend…she saved my life more times than I care to admit.”

“You are far too noble to have been sorted into Slytherin, Professore,” the portrait smiled. “Or perhaps it is the young signorina who is, as they say, rubbing off on you.”

“Slytherins are very noble when it suits their purpose to be,” Severus snarked as the portrait chuckled in acknowledgment. “Where will you go now?”

“I will return to Hogwarts for the time being and then, if all is well, I will visit Beauxbatons in the next several days. The house elves there are most helpful. Is there a message you wish me to relay?”

“Yes…tell her…I will be with her very soon…one way or the other,” Severus replied, a grim expression on his face.

“Professore,” The portrait looked concerned.

“I think that the situation is becoming too grave for me to continue taking only a passive role. The time is fast approaching when I will have to decide between what is easy and what is right…and there is no doubt in my mind what my choice will be. I will not stand by and let her die!” Severus clenched his hands into fists. “Lucius will be the one to die…by my hand, if the fates allow it.”

The portrait nodded and then looked thoughtful.

“There is something I can do…if you are willing to try. It’s been more than an age since it has been done…is against many rules but I care nothing for rules…and this is more important than anything else.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Severus asked in exasperation as he watched the portrait pace back and forth.

“There is a spell. It will allow you to accompany me. I can take you to her. But it can’t be for very long,” the portrait explained.

Severus was absolutely dumbfounded. He’d never heard of such a thing.

“It is called the Crossover Spell and a portrait is only able to perform it once. I’ve waited a very long time…if you wish, I will take you.”

Severus did not hesitate. “Yes. Tell me what to do.”

The Professoressa took out her wand and started murmuring in Italian. Severus, although fluent in the language, was only able to pick out the occasional word. When she was done, he noticed that the outline of the portrait was blurry.

“Take my hand, Professore,” she held her hand out to him. Without hesitation, Severus reached into the portrait and, much like being pulled into a Pensieve, he found himself pulled into the portrait.

“This is incredible…I never imagined that there was an entire world here,” Severus breathed.

“Do not let go of my hand until I say so…it is very important,” she reminded him.

“How do we get to Beauxbatons?” Severus asked.

“It is something like Disapparating. It may feel strange…I recommend closing your eyes,” she gently placed her hand over his eyes and he closed them. He heard a muffled popping sound and then a rushing of air past his ears.

“Will it take long?”

“We are already here,” she replied as she released his hand. “You may open your eyes.”

Severus acquiesced and was surprised to find himself looking into a quiet chamber as if he were looking through a window.

“She will be here soon. Very much a creature of habit,” the Professoressa commented.

Almost as if on cue, the door to the chamber opened and Hermione entered. Severus immediately noticed that she looked tired and had lost weight.

“Hermione,” he whispered.

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud but he did and she heard him. Looking around in a sudden panic, she caught sight of him in the portrait and rushed over.

“Severus?”

Severus realized that she was quickly thinking something awful had happened to him.

“I am here as a guest of the Professoressa,” he quickly explained. “I am fine and, thanks to a conveniently forgotten spell, I have the means to see you…talk to you.”

“Can you come out?” She asked, looking at him in shocked amazement.

The Professoressa shook her head. “The spell has its limitations. I will leave you to speak in private and will return when the allotted time is done. You only have a few moments, make good use of them.”

And she disappeared.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Hermione smiled shakily…her eyes suspiciously bright. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

“I know…I know because it has been the same misery for me,” Severus walked towards her, reaching an invisible barrier and stopping. “I owe the Professoressa a great deal for this opportunity to see you.”

“Have you been well? You look pale,” she said, with a concerned look, reaching up towards him and frowning because she couldn’t reach him. “This is an odd spell.”

“I understand a little better just how difficult it was for Sirius to stay at Order Headquarters all that time years ago. But he did not have to be separated from the woman he loved,” Severus mused.

Hermione smiled. “I have to admit, it has not been easy being so far from you. And I had always thought of myself as quite the independent woman.”

“Love does not create dependence,” Severus pointed out. “I can’t take credit for that…I just remember reading that somewhere and, at the time thought it was romantic drivel…but now…perhaps there is a grain of truth to it after all.”

“Is…everyone…all right? I have had no contact except for the notes from your sweet little pigeons. It’s quite isolating.”

“There have been…incidents but I can’t talk about that right now.”

She nodded, still holding her hand against the portrait. Severus was pressing against her hand with his own but he could not touch her. The barrier was relentless and cruel.

“Have you heard from Harry?” She asked hesitantly.

The question did not bring forward any jealousy…which surprised Severus. He trusted Hermione. When was the last time he had trusted a person to such a degree…and not have that same trust betrayed?

“Yes,” he replied quietly, looking closely at her hands and noticing that she had started biting her nails again. “I believe that there is still hope.”

“When did you start hoping?”

“It is a recent development and has much to do with you,” he looked up at her and was pleased to see her smiling again.

“I’m just so happy to see you…the letters have been lovely, don’t get me wrong, but…it’s not the same.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry. I have to wait for the opportunity to make this a reunion of a more permanent nature. I have been apprized that there may be a traitor in our midst and I cannot take the chance of Lucius Malfoy determining where you have gone.”

“He should be afraid of me and what I will do to him,” she said hatefully, a frown appearing on her face.

“He should be afraid of you…but he is as arrogant as any Death Eater…blinded to his own foibles and focused on one obsession.”

“Me.”

Severus sighed. “Yes, you. He thinks the key to defeating Potter is by destroying you.”

“He doesn’t know Harry very well. Harry would not be destroyed by the death of any of us…perhaps not even Ron. He only knows his destiny…has been living and breathing it for most of his life. My death would sadden him, no doubt, but it would not destroy him.”

“He does not love you as I do, Hermione. Merlin help me for sounding like a lovestruck fool but losing you would destroy me,” Severus insisted, instinctively trying to hold her hand but again frustrated by the barrier of the portrait.

Hermione smiled…the tension easing from her face.

“I guess we are both lovestruck fools, Severus,” she said softly. “I can live with that.”

Severus chuckled.

A slight cough made him turn around. The Professoressa stood there, looking apologetic.

“We must be off…I’ll let you say your goodbyes in private and will return momentarily,” the older witch said before walking through a door and vanishing.

Severus turned back to Hermione.

“Please be sure to thank her for me, Severus,” Hermione smiled. “This…has meant more to me than you could imagine.”

“Be safe, Hermione. Please look after yourself and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“I expect the same from you.”

And then, they reached towards each other and their lips met.

And, for a brief moment, there was no barrier.

There was only magic.

“Goodbye,” Hermione whispered.

“Goodbye,” Severus whispered back.

Stepping back, Severus watched Hermione wipe her eyes before smiling bravely and waving. He nodded in acknowledgment as the Professoressa walked in, touched his hand, and took him back.

It took several moments for him to recover from the experience. His heart was pounding and he was buzzing with a frenetic energy.

How had he been able to kiss her?

“Professore, are you all right?” the Professoressa asked.

Severus nodded.

“I was able to kiss her,” he murmured.

“Impossibile,” she said firmly.

“I did…I felt her lips…her warmth. We kissed,” he looked up at her and was surprised to see her smiling.

“I made the right decision, then, to bring you to her. I am most pleased for you.”

Severus closed his eyes, wanting the room to stop spinning.

“I can’t thank you enough…I feel I will be eternally in your debt,” he whispered, utterly overwhelmed and feeling utterly helpless and suddenly quite alone.

“You owe me nothing. I lived once too…and I remember,” she replied with a small smile.

And then she vanished.

It was several moments before Severus realized that he was standing in the hallway all alone. Consciously unclenching his now-aching fingers, he hurried back to where Margaret was reading over a stack of reports as tall as a #12 cauldron.

“You took an awfully long time,” she said, looking up and adjusting her glasses.

“I seem to draw an audience no matter where I go, even to the loo,” he smirked mirthlessly.

“Ah well…a trained forensic investigator like yourself is in short supply. Just beat them off with a stick,” she conjured two cups of steaming tea.

Severus picked up one cup and sniffed at it thoughtfully before taking a sip.

“If I wanted to poison you, I would have used something that would not have been picked up by your unusually well-endowed nose,” Margaret grinned.

“Such charm,” Severus muttered. “You know that old habits die hard.”

“You look upset,” she said as she sipped her tea.

“It’s just…” he paused, collecting his bearings, “this situation with Frank and Alice. I worry about them…they have no way of defending themselves. It would have been a simple thing to kill them both.”

A look of understanding appeared on Margaret’s face.

“I’ve always said you had the makings of a better than average mediwizard, Severus,” she smiled.

“You’re delusional,” Severus smirked.

Margaret smiled and then frowned, rubbing her temples again. “Damn headaches…I haven’t been sleeping well lately and it’s making me crankier than a Blast Ended Skrewt.”

Thinking about what the Professoressa had said, Severus became concerned.

“Have you been taking anything for the pain?” he asked.

“There’s barely enough for our patients,” she protested.

“I’ll send you something by owl tonight so that you can rest. Be sure you take it,” Severus thought of two potions that could help. “You’re no good to anyone if you continue in this way.”

Margaret squeezed his hand in appreciation.

“Now, tell me everything you know.”

The next hour involved Severus taking copious notes as Margaret described in detail the nature of the attack and the various oddities she had noticed. For one thing, the internal alarms (which directly linked to the Ministry of Magic) had been disabled and there had been no magical or physical way to determine how this had occurred. Secondly, none of the casualties involved seemed to have any important links to the Dark Lord or to the Death Eaters. Thirdly, it seemed as if some potions ingredients had been stolen but it was proving impossible to determine what use they would be as they were fairly generic and easy to purchase everywhere.

“This does not make much sense,” Severus looked over his notes, failing to see a concrete reason for the attack.

“I know. I still maintain my position that this was some sort of practice run. There is a bigger attack coming. Mark my words, Severus…this is just the beginning,” Margaret sighed tiredly. “Sirius Black was here, you know. He is very upset about the whole thing but he hasn’t the skills we need right now. His heart’s in the right place but…he’s a bit of a loose cannon. Still,” Margaret paused as she looked out into the hallway, “he’d be better than some of the ones we have running around here.”

“Have you spoken to the Headmaster?” Severus asked.

Margaret looked angry. “He said that, since a member of the Order was not injured or killed, it was probably a group of novices trying to curry favour with the Dark Lord.”

“Given the fact that the internal alarms were disabled…I deem that highly unlikely,” Severus muttered.

“He’s not taking it seriously! I have patients who are worried out of their minds…they thought this was a safe haven. Does the Headmaster think it’s easier to tell someone’s child their father is dead just because he wasn’t a member of the Order? I’ve seen so much tragedy in the last few years, Severus. I don’t need platitudes…I need answers. I need action!”

“Well,” Severus stood up and took out his wand. “Where would you like me to begin?”

A/N – Ah yes, CSI: Hogwarts is in full swing

::cue ‘Who Are You?’::.

Next chapter will be posted in early September.