Acts

Summary: In which acts lead to consequences, and consequences to acts.

A/N: Once again and always, I am indebted to Anastasia for arranging occasion to pick up this story where I let it lie so many months ago, and to whatever forces conspired to create the island of New Providence, where the last chapter and most of this were written. I am also grateful to Annie Talbot for the conversations which continue to illuminate this story and for beta duty, and to Hans Zimmer for writing the soundtrack that plays as I write, a soundtrack Muggles commonly call Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. To those of you who are still reading so long after JKR finished writing her stories, a flourishing bow of humble gratitude. :touches heart: :twirls quill: ~ Ari

Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Avada Kedavra."

And the bleeding ghost stood sad-eyed in a flash of green.

-------------------------

---

"Under usual conditions, the human soul will adhere to its material housing. The metaphysical rationale for this is obvious; any O.W.L. holder in Transfiguration may be applied to for an explanation of the basics. For a more exhaustive interrogation of the underlying principles, I refer my readers to the work of Sir Isaac Newton (Order of Merlin, 1st Class), particularly his First Law, which reads, in part, as follows:

"I shall therefore begin my inquiry with an etymological examination of the term 'Horcrux'..."

– from "Of Horcruxes, Arithmancy, Etymology and Newtonian Kinetics," work-in-progress, Prof. H. Granger (Order of Merlin, 3rd Class), Arithmancy Mistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

---

In the rubble of the fallen archway, a pale hand twitched in the dust, reaching for the companion who was no longer there.

A moment's time brought him to his feet. A whisper of command and he was enveloped in his cloak.

Another moment's hesitation, and the clash of his boots cast eddies of dust, scattering bits of stone to clatter into corners as his cloak furled around the corner, leaving only a trail of footsteps heading away from where two had once had lain.

---

The Bloody Baron looked up at his entrance, taking in the glittering sharpness in his eyes as they swept the chamber.

"She's gone."

Brought up short by the voice, Severus went absolutely still. "And?" he inquired, his tone bland.

The Baron merely gestured toward figure the bed.

Two steps brought Severus to Slughorn's bedside, and he felt for the edges of his stasis spell.

"She banished it easily, Severus. Very easily."

Only a lifetime of duplicity kept how troubling he found that fact from registering on his face. "And him?" Severus nodded curtly toward Slughorn's body.

"She tried."

"Which spell?"

"The obvious one." The Baron floated a bit closer, catching the torchlight from the corridor in his wavering form. "It had no effect, of course."

Blast.

"Apparently the good professor did not stop to think. She might as well have tried to kill a ghost."

Severus said nothing.

The Baron considered the figure on the bed. "Unusual for her, wouldn't you say?"

A glint deep in Severus' eye betrayed his agreement as his mind raced. "And her demeanor?"

The Baron looked at him blandly. "Really, Severus. One would imagine you, of all wizards, would need not inquire."

Blast, he thought again, even as some corner of his mind acknowledged the Baron's allusion to the usual methods of controlling Dark impulses. "Quite," he said, scowling.

He nodded curtly to the Baron and swept out of the chamber.

---

"Harry? Is that you?"

Harry Potter looked up the stairs in the Entrance Hall, where his footsteps had taken him automatically after Neville's abrupt departure.

"Hannah?" he said in mild surprise, seeing the Librarian heading toward him.

"Oh, Harry, thank goodness you're here." Joining him at the foot of the stairs, Hannah cast her eyes about sharply.

He nodded. "I was here for the meeting – the Board of Governors' invitation bodes well for their confidence in my candidacy, I think." He smiled genially, but Hannah hardly seemed to be listening.

"Did you feel it?" she asked, still glancing about her as if expecting – he couldn't think what.

"Feel what?" he said politely.

She turned wide eyes to him. "Something's shaken the castle, Harry. It happened earlier, before you'd have arrived, I think, and then again, just now. Whatever it was knocked the glass loose from half the windows in the Library. You must have felt it." She searched his face beseechingly.

But he merely looked at her and shook his head. "I was in the dungeons, paying my respects to – "

"You have to call the Ministry," she interrupted.

"The Ministry? Whatever for?" He examined her face, trying to remember if she had always been this pale.

"Please, Harry. Please," she said, her voice rising. "You have to help us."

"Hannah, steady on – you're trembling. Here, come with me – we'll have the house-elves bring you some tea." Reaching his arm to steady her, he started to turn for the Great Hall, but she shook his arm away.

"It's Professor Snape. And..." she shuddered, before continuing, "and her. You have to do something." Grasping his sleeve, she drew him toward the faculty lounge, her words continuing in an incoherent tumble.

Surreptitiously, Harry checked his wristwatch as he followed the terrified woman. Several of his former classmates had been not quite right afterwards. He'd not heard Hannah was among their number, but – well, he was already late for the family dinner. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt...

As their footsteps echoed up the marble stair, Severus Snape eased his way around the entrance to the dungeons. Bloody hell.

He waited until he heard the door to the lounge echo through the upstairs corridor, then took the stairs toward Hermione's chambers two at a time.

---

She had returned to her chambers with no memory of her path there. The door closed with the familiar echoes, the wind at the window whistled in the usual way through the familiar crack, and her books sat in their customary places on her bookshelves.

After a moment, she twisted her hair up in an automatic gesture, waved an absent wand at the grate on the hearth, and, reaching for her bag, sat in her usual chair.

Within moments, her quill was scratching on parchment in its usual way.

Everything was in its place, exactly as it should be, but for the single fact that in the washbasin the water was stained the palest pink.

---

"But... Hannah, she had a weak heart," Harry explained patiently, for what felt like the tenth time. "Madam Pomfrey told the Board of Governors so. As I've told you, I was there."

Something blazed in Hannah's eyes. "I know they had some part in it. And I know he was down with Professor Slughorn, as well. He should have died days ago. Poppy told Minerva so, and I was present for that." She swallowed hard, glancing around at the walls as though expecting them to crumble. "Please, Harry. Floo the Ministry. They'll listen to you."

"But –"

"Please," Hannah begged. "You have to help – you're the only one left who can."

After a long pause, during which he could not look away from Hannah's imploring face, he nodded and strode to the fireplace. Tossing a handful of powder into the flames, he said, "Ministry of Magic."

After a moment, Percy Weasley's face appeared in the flames. "Harry? What are you doing at Hogwarts? The meeting concluded an hour since."

"Hullo, Perce – terribly sorry to bother you, but apparently there's lingering some question as to the exact cause of the Headmistress' death?"

Percy shook his head. "The paperwork's all in order. I received the memo from the Bureau of Magical Records an hour ago."

"Could you double-check, just to be certain?"

Percy peered at Harry then looked down. Hannah heard a shuffling as he consulted some parchments. "Yes, right here. There's nothing amiss in the paperwork, Harry. The school's Healer made the initial diagnosis several years ago and signed it off this afternoon."

"Right, then. It's all in order?"

"Quite."

"Well, then, thanks – I'll –"

"And Slughorn?" Hannah hissed at Harry's elbow.

Harry looked at her, confused, but relayed the question to Percy.

Percy adjusted his glasses. "Harry, I must remind you that you're not a school official, nor are you connected in any capacity with the Ministry – not yet, in any case – and therefore you are in no way authorised to initiate inquiries on behalf of the school. McGonagall's death is a matter of public record, but any other inquiries must come through official channels."

Harry nodded apologetically. "I'm really grateful for your checking, Perce. Will we be seeing you on Molly's birthday, then?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Regards to Ginny." Percy closed the connection.

Harry turned to Hannah. "That's all they'll tell me. And I'm afraid I really must be off – Ginny's held dinner far longer than she was expecting to. I'll just have the house-elves fetch you some tea, shall I? Before I go?"

Without waiting for a reply, he called down for tea, but the request was an automatic, recorded refusal: "Only faculty and members of staff are authorised to order from the kitchens. Further attempts at unauthorised orders will be reported to the student's Head of House."

He gave a short laugh. "Sorry. I forgot myself."

After waiting for Hannah to make the request herself, he left her seated by the fire and made his way out of the castle, still chuckling.

But as the great doors closed behind him, he felt lighter. He had never before felt relieved to leave Hogwarts, but with his thoughts already turning toward home, it didn't occur to him to wonder why.

---

Neville's eyebrows arched as he and the smaller ghost drifted downward through the ceiling. Turning to her, he opened his mouth to ask why they were there.

She put her finger to her lips.

---

The knock was repeated several times before she heard it. Frowning, she raced to the end of her sentence, capturing the thought entirely before rising to answer.

---

Hannah did not wait for her tea before tossing an overlarge handful of powder into the flames. Keeping her voice as steady as she could, she said, "Ministry of Magic – Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

The connection was made.

"I'm calling about... about..." Hannah swallowed, and her voice came out in a dry shake. "About Hermione Granger."

"One moment."

"But – "

She sat back on her heels as a pleasant voice intoned from the flames, "Your call is being transferred to the Department of Mysteries, Unspeakable Division. Your call is very important to us. Thank you for holding."

---

Severus didn't wait for Hermione to invite him in. Wrenching the door from her grasp, he whirled about and closed it, hard.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "What gives you the right – "

"It didn't work."

"What do you mean 'It didn't work'? I... I said it, and there was a green flash. I've seen it done, Severus." Her eyes were hooded. "Several times."

It cost some effort to keep his voice even. "Slughorn was already dead, Hermione. An Avada Kedavra won't work under such circumstances."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me that you miscalculated, Snape?"

"It would seem we both did, Professor."

The flash of her eyes met an answer in his own, and they glared at each other through a crackling silence which finally settled to a dull cadence in which they heard only their own heartbeats, loud in their ears.

In a lower but no less urgent tone, he continued, "And it would seem we have a further complication."

---

Far below, what remained of Horace Slughorn's soul drifted about the chamber, unseen by watching ghostly eyes.

It had no language, no thought, and only the faintest trace of what had once been the Potions Master's indomitable will; it responded only to what might, for want of a better term, be called impulse.

Had that impulse had words, they might have registered, Tired... so very tired. Dead, finally? Ah. Must rest then. O ho, what's this? A place? A good place, as good a place as any...

And it settled into the nearest available lifeless form, rounding itself with the small sleep of a broken soul.

---

The smaller ghost cocked her head as Neville frowned, both of them looking sharply upwards.

From somewhere far above them, carried downward by the bones of the castle, a shout, followed almost instantly by a shattering fall of glass.

---

The thousand fractured shards of glass arced through the frosted air. As they fell, each for a split-second caught and refracted the light of the rising moon, casting for an instant a frozen rainbow against the dark tower stone.

When they finally hit the snowbank far below, they made so little sound that they could almost be said to have made none at all.

Note on Sources: The passage quoted by Professor Granger is Newton's First Law of Motion. "Kinetics" is her term for what Muggles commonly call "Physics."