Chapter Two: la Révélation

Chapter Two: la Révélation

The library at number twelve, Grimmauld Place wouldn't have been Ronald Weasley's first choice of venue for a Wednesday evening. Especially not with two of his living brothers, one sister-in-law, his old Head of house, his mum and the head of the Ministry for company. But since his regular Wednesday night plans were scotched – had been for weeks! – he saw no reason to waste breath complaining. Still, the seven of them had been staring at each other for fifteen minutes. What was the point of calling an "emergency" meeting (the third in two months) if no one was going to talk about their reason for being there?

A flash of green in the fireplace caught his attention, and his relieved sigh was lost in the general hubbub as his father stumbled into the room, brushing ash and Floo powder from his clothes.

Dad walked round the table, pausing to whisper something into Kingsley's ear on his way to the last empty seat.

"We all know why we're here – things have been heating up, haven't they?" Mum's voice was tired, but it was clear enough she didn't mean for anyone to answer the question. "Might as well get on with it."

Looking nearly as bad as she sounded, Dad dropped heavily into his seat next to her. "Right," he said. "Sorry to have kept everyone waiting."

George went first – not that there was much to tell. "Still working out where to go with Plan B," he said, winking stupidly. But there was no missing the edge in his voice when he said, "Only, I can't narrow anything down till we've come up with a Plan A."

Least stupid thing the berk has said about it in months.

Fleur's pretty face twisted into a grimace as she nodded in agreement. Bill rubbed her shoulder but he looked just as grim.

"Yes, er, well..." Dad faltered. It was obvious he hadn't anything actually useful to add. Or, at least not anything he could share with anyone who wasn't the Minister for Magic.

Ron stared at his old man, but didn't say anything. His mentor would have been proud of him, he rather thought.

The rest of the Order debated George's Plan B for another ten minutes or so, but it was true: they really couldn't move forward with a backup strategy when they hadn't decided what to do in the first place.

"Do you think he'd even agree?" Charlie wanted to know. "If it came to Plan B, I mean?"

"I should think not," McGonagall said. She shook her head. "That poor boy..."

George snorted. "'Course he won't!"

He would know, having the inside track, and all.

"I think he suspects something," Harry told everyone. It was the first thing he'd said about their subject all night. "Apart from lessons, he's been avoiding Ron and me for weeks. Claims he's tired, but that was never a problem before, was it?"

His friend looked so crestfallen at the idea, Ron couldn't hold back a snort to match his brother's. He noticed he wasn't the only one who found Harry's disappointment amusing. He felt a bit bad about that, but at least the laugh had relieved some of the tension.

Now, come on. The greasy git has become something of a mate over the past few years, hasn't he?

"I don't think it's that," Ron informed the group. "Well, he has seemed a bit... distracted, lately. And those bags under his eyes have got baggier. What with our extra lessons and all, it kind of makes sense – for him to be tired of me, at least. Even if he did say I'm doing shockingly well, dunderhead that I am.

"But I don't think he has a clue what's really going on." Patting Harry's shoulder awkwardly, he continued. "He's probably too grateful for an excuse not having us dragging him out every week to even think that anyone's been plotting against him!"

Harry shrugged off Ron's hand and rolled his eyes. "Of course he knows, Ron! The man was a spy!"

"Yeah, but..."

"Ron's right." George's interruption had everyone staring at him. "Fred says Knowi's up to something. Has him getting up extra early every morning for weeks now." Everyone knew "him" didn't mean Fred.

Do dead people even sleep?

"Are you sure he hasn't seen anything during your lessons?" This was from Dad. "The last thing we need is for him to find out before we have a plan in place."

"I told you he says I'm doing shockingly well. Said I'm easily distracted and this time it's actually a good thing!" Ron smiled smugly at the faces ringing the table.

He ignored George's mock puking, but Mum's fierce look had them both sobering straightaway.

"You know about 'Pudlians, Dad," George said, still serious. "They 'know what is soon to come' and all that. So, if he suspects something, it's only because she's been preparing him for whatever is going to happen. It's nothing to do with Ron."

I guess he's not always a berk.

Another heavy silence filled the room, making everyone uncomfortable. So Ron was really glad when Bill broke it with a question that had been asked and answered a dozen times already:

"How much time do you think we have?"

Kingsley sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. Less than we had last time someone asked. And getting less every day." He frowned so hard a vein started throbbing at his temple. Ron eyed the big fist the Minister for Magic had unconsciously made, wondering if Kingsley would finally lose his cool enough to pound Harry's table.

"What are we going to do?" Mum asked before that could happen.

Everyone made a point of not looking at Kingsley, but he was the one who ended up speaking first, anyway. He leant back in his chair, suddenly The Minister For Magic in capitals instead of everyone's friend. His gaze pinned Dad's.

"A month, you said, Arthur?"

Ah. So that's what the whispering was about. But wait... What is it?

"Only about six weeks, I'd say. If I had a little help..." Dad said, glancing Ron and Harry.

Should have known they'd find a way to take up more of our...

Kingsley also looked at them. "I think you boys were right," he said. "I think it's time to bring in Hermione Granger."

~SS~

Severus liked routines.

The Monday morning after that first Sunday, he had awakened to Knowi's plaintive yowl a full hour earlier usual. He dragged himself out of bed, complaining and loudly contemplating possible uses for Felis vilicus veneficia parts in various potions, but he got up. Ages ago, he'd learnt to ignore the little cat's cries only at his own peril.

"Beware, Miss Tall," he muttered as he made his way out of the small bedroom and stalked across the living-room-cum-dining-area, "if you are only looking for an extra meal, I will make you into potions ingredients, even if I have to invent the potion first!"

Food and water bowls were both filled, just as the charms on them were supposed to ensure. Severus looked over to where Knowi sat next to his rolled-up yoga mat, staring back at him imperiously.

"Fine, then," he said. "You aren't risking your life for an extra helping. Unless you're hoping for the tinned stuff?" When she ignored his raised eyebrow and continued to stare, Severus went to join her. "Right. I suppose this means trouble is brewing, so to speak."

Knowi mewed an assent.

Severus bent to unroll the mat, then settled himself on it. "And I don't suppose you're going to find a way to tell me what it is."

Knowi stepped over him to burrow into the space the yoga mat had occupied. A second later, she emerged, holding a soft toy in the shape of a blue-shirted man with pointed ears. She slinked over to her human and climbed onto his crossed legs.

Severus took the proffered Mr Spock plushie. Mr Spock meant meditation before yoga. Meditation before yoga meant something big.

He wracked his memories for any recent occurrences that might change his life, but there was nothing.

Except... Why had Ms Granger come for Sunday dinner after a two-year absence?

He filed the thought away. It hardly made sense, the girl's presence affecting him in a negative way, but he'd learnt not question everything, every time. Instead, he treated the symptoms. If that meant an extra sixty minutes of meditation and asanas, so be it. His well-being was worth more than sleeping in could ever be.

~*~

The next weeks had brought no definitive answer to the question of what (although Ms Granger's repeated presence on Sundays underscored his suspicion), but they also brought no respite from Knowi's early-morning appointments. Soon enough, Severus was rising without her assistance.

He meditated. He went through the daily series of poses which helped keep the tenuous grip on his humanity from slipping away completely. He got round the bad temper the loss of sleep might have brought by going to bed early. That it gave him an excuse to put off his weekly outing with Potter and Weasley had been an added bonus.

Tonight, claiming exhaustion from extra Occlumency sessions with the latter was not an option.

Not that he hadn't tried when his two (formerly imbecilic) groupies had bearded him in his den the day before.

"But you can't stay in all the time!" The adult Potter's whinging had been considerably more annoying than the boy's defiant bluster had ever been.

"Yeah," a grinning Weasley Sextus had agreed, "it's not healthy, you avoiding us outside of work. Can't have you reverting to form!"

"You should go," Fred added, appearing out of nowhere, as he so often did.

Knowi showed her agreement by twining herself about the young Aurors' legs.

Four against one. What choice did he have, really?

Life might have been better when I was alone and reviled by all, Severus thought as he towelled off and added a quick a quick drying spell for good measure.

He stepped up to the mirror hanging over the sink, running an appraising hand over his jaw. It didn't really matter if he shaved, but in some areas at least, he had always been fastidious. There was no need to deviate from habit simply because he would be using Polyjuice tonight. But sticking to routines helped keep him sane.

He certainly didn't need to spend an evening down the pub with Potter and Weasley; their impertinent – and often interfering – company was likely to undo whatever good had been done by Knowi's inexplicable insistence that he spend more time at the rituals which had helped him survive his survival.

"I 'need to get out more' like I need a daily Cruciatus," he told the face in the mirror. And yet he did not stop shaving.

Face smooth, hair hanging loose about his shoulders, he walked the short distance from bathroom to bedroom naked. He possessed only a handful of shirts and trousers that fit the body he would use later, and he was loath to crease any of these things. Besides, there was no one to see his own nude form. No one but Knowi, that was.

She lay sprawled, as only a feline can manage, at the centre of his single bed. Her head lifted and her eyes opened lazily as he entered the room. Just as slowly, she stood and stretched before lowering herself to the bed again. Her muzzle, Snape saw, now rested on the Mr Spock toy.

It's to be meditation again, he mused. That didn't bode well for the night.

But forty minutes later – just before any further hesitation would undoubtedly result in concerned knocks at his door – he left the Ministry barracks that had been his home for the last four years.

~HG~

She only answered the telephone because she happened to be closest. Just over a month into her career with ObiyeChem, she'd hardly made any new Muggle friends. Everyone from uni was busy with jobs of their own, or looking for jobs. (Hermione had been lucky enough to start straight after graduation.) The call wasn't likely to be for her, but it would save Mum or Dad having to stop whatever they were doing, so...

It was her boss. Not the one from the lab, but her real boss.

"I'm outside," he told her.

Hermione peeked out the window; sure enough, a neatly dressed man stood across the road, a mobile at his ear.

"Ring the bell in five minutes." A long day in the lab made her tone impatient. She raced upstairs to retrieve her notes from her room.

Two minutes later, she heard Mum welcoming Arthur Weasley to their home.

Drat that man! Probably has ten time-telling devices on him, but he can't count five minutes?

Snatching up a file filled with useless (she thought) observations, she rushed back down the stairs.

Another fifteen minutes of interminable chitchat passed, during which Hermione marvelled anew at the apparent change in Arthur. Not that it was really a change, she reminded herself. He'd just never showed her his true colours before recruiting her to S.A.M.E.

As her impatience grew, she tried to remember she was grateful to him for helping ease her parents' transition back to Betty and Graham from Monica and Wendell. He'd even had his accountant cousin sort out their finances. But still... For better or for worse, Hermione's manners were still far too ingrained for her to tell him to shut up about technology shares, the sorcenet and every other thing that wasn't S.A.M.E. business.

Arthur admired the new gadgets her parents had purchased since his last visit – "I knew you'd like that telly, Graham. Top of the line!" – and Dad and Mum promised to get up to Devon "soon, really." By the time Arthur finally noticed the file clutched in Hermione's hands, she was rigid with anticipation.

"We won't bother with that," he said, waving a dismissive hand at the folder. "You'll be leaving O-Chem in three weeks time."

Mum and Dad discreetly excused themselves.

"But I haven't been there two months! It won't look good on my CV, leaving so soon."

"This isn't a demotion, Hermione." His expression told her she was in the presence of the Director of S.A.M.E. The family friend was gone, and she didn't think it wise to protest again. "If anything, it's a promotion. We need you closer to the Ministry for a... side project. But officially, you'll still be working for the Obiye family."

"All right. What will I be doing?"

"To start with, you'll be living and working with your friend Lara Obiye," Arthur told her. Hermione didn't see how working at her friend's shop, The Witch's Daughter, could be a promotion, but still didn't argue. "As for the side project... The boys are setting that up as we speak."

~RP~

"It might just work, you know."

"Only if they don't bugger it up! No chance of that if we were doing it."

"Now, Dora, you don't really want to go back so soon, do you?" The spirit who had been Remus Lupin slipped an arm round his wife's shoulders.

"Not really. Only, he does a good job with Ted, yeah? I don't want that to end."

"I don't think we need to worry just yet, dear."

~SS~HP~RW~

"It's awful, really. You know Hermione. Always asking questions, always trying to get answers straight away." Potter shook his head and sighed. "This job is probably killing her."

"Only probably?" Blond eyebrow raised, Severus smirked at his companion's dramatics.

"Well, she hasn't said anything," Weasley put in, aiming a speaking glare at his friend. "But we know she can't be all that happy. Or at least not very interested in what she's doing. For Hermione, that's as bad as hating it."

Steadily regarding the two young men, Severus swallowed the last of his pint. It wasn't that he thought they were lying, but neither one was being entirely honest.

Potter jumped to his feet the moment Severus set down his glass. "My round!" he declared and, having gathered the empties littering their small table, was lost almost instantly in the busy pub.

"You are Occluding, Mr Weasley. I wonder why?"

"What? How do you know? I'm your best pupil!"

So as not to encourage his "best pupil" into further squawking, Severus chose to be honest rather than insulting.

"I don't need to use Legilimency to know when you're hiding your thoughts. You have a tell. Fortunately for you, that vacant look is barely perceptible and doesn't hinder your Occlumency abilities."

Weasley's eyes focussed immediately; then he gave a lopsided grin. "Still," he said, "I should work on that. Can't have anyone thinking your best pupil is a dunderhead, can we?

"Here's the thing about Hermione, Sev. She trusts you and admires your work. If you could maybe just give her a little help, a lesson here or there, perhaps she'll be able to move up the ladder to something a little more to her liking."

"Yeah." A grinning Potter placed three more pints on the table. "If you were the one helping her, she'd definitely be halfway to bottling glory."

~OotP~

The next gathering of the Order of the Phoenix underscored just how much Hermione had missed during her necessary absence. She hadn't supposed there had been many meetings while she was occupied with university and helping her parents get settled in Cornwall. Clearly, she was wrong. The last one she'd attended had been more a celebration of their success. This one was obviously the latest of many serious sessions aimed at righting a wrong which had the other members deeply concerned.

"Hang on a minute." Hermione chewed her lip, not sure how to go on. Not sure she wanted to go on. But, needs must. "All this..." She gestured at the table and its occupants. "All this plotting behind his back... Doesn't it seem to anyone that it's just like..." She bit her lip again. "Professor Dumbledore? Like you're his puppet masters. Don't you think he's had enough of that? Why can't you tell him the Ministry are planning to sack him."

"You don't know what you're talking about! You weren't there at the beginning, were you? You don't know how bad things were!"

Harry's sudden anger, seemingly directed entirely at her, ignited her own.

"I was there! I saw how bad off he was when Madam..."

"You weren't there after, when he was recovering, and no one could get through to him, and we thought he might not make it, after all. You were too busy with school, and then it was university. You can't just come back now and tell us we're wrong when you weren't there."

Everyone was quiet for a long moment. Harry's last words hung in the tense air. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, even though no one was looking at her. Never mind that she hadn't been given a choice once she'd accepted Kingsley offer, and never mind no one had told her about... whatever it was that she supposedly had missed during the years that followed.

Arthur Weasley cleared his throat. "It was my choice to keep Hermione focussed on her work," he said. His voice was quiet, yet firm. "Everyone agreed at the time."

Hermione felt Molly's hand cover hers, and when she glanced up, the older witch smiled gently, squeezing the hand she held.

"It was hard for him, at first," she said. "Physically, he was well on the mend. But for that first year – until he started seeing your Muggle mind-Healer..."

"Dr Listener?" That was another shock. Dr Listener was a Squib and a psychiatrist she'd met at Dovewede. "Since when has he been her patient? I thought she might help Harry..."

And she had, it turned out. And Harry had suggested she might help Snape. And... and the whole story – all the dark ugliness no one had shared with her before – came out.

"Everything began to change once Doctor L started helping him," Harry said, calmer now. He gave her an apologetic smile. "But if he's tossed out now, no money or job, all that work could be for nothing."

"But isn't he receiving some sort of compensation already?" she asked, completely confused by the meeting's agenda. "I know being on probation might reduce his salary potential, but surely the Ministry pays him something for the work he's doing."

Hermione watched everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats. No one met her questioning gaze.

Finally, Molly told her wringing fingers, "He gets room and board. If he were really on probation, they might do more."

"Isn't he?" If Severus Snape wasn't on probation, Hermione wondered, why was he living in Ministry barracks and teaching an Advanced Potions and Occlumency programme for the D.M.L.E.?

"No, he is not! That's just the vile rumour the Wizengamot spread to stop the natives getting restless about him avoiding Azkaban." George's usually cheerful face was dark with anger.

"It also helped that he offered to give up everything he owned in reparations," Kingsley added. His sneer would have done Snape proud. "The whole business was still a nasty piece of work." He looked angry as well as uncomfortable. "Even the Minister is only one voice, Hermione. Unless you want us to up-end everything we've worked so hard to change."

"No! No, of course not." Her face was hot with embarrassment. The past week had been like her first year all over again: she'd spoken without thinking, caused offence where none was intended. "I'm sorry. It's just... I don't understand. He was absolved of all wrong-doing... Why was he punished at all? Even if it was supposedly voluntary?"

"It's as Kingsley told you; he's only one voice and I make two. The rest of the Wizengamot don't know Severus like we do. And neither do the public." Arthur's face was as grave as his voice. "I'm sure Sunday dinners have demonstrated why we can't just let him go a couple years from now. He's like family, but he'll never accept anything he thinks is charity – not even from us.

"We've come up with a few ideas, but... We could use a fresh pair of eyes, Hermione."

Hermione turned to Ron. "Is that why you invited me? To see him in action? All that stuff about the family missing me was just a ruse to get me to observe Severus Snape dandling children on his knee and trading barbs with Gred and Forge?"

Ron coloured, but didn't look away. "Everyone did miss you, Hermione. That wasn't a lie," he said. "But, yeah, you needed to see for yourself what it's like now. I wasn't sure you'd come if you knew about... the other thing. Because of what happened... in Australia..."

He trailed off, and Hermione realised that he hadn't shared the other reason for their break-up with rest of the Order.

Thank god!

"Dad's right," Fred said, pulling her from her embarrassed thoughts. "We do have a few plans. As my closest relative, and his last known living 'victim', George got Sev's assets when he offered reparations. But he's too stubborn to ever take a Knut from any of us. Even what's rightfully his."

"My Plan B was to find a way to make him. But since you're back on board, I've got another idea." Everyone turned to stare at George, who was looking at Ron. "And I expect Hermione has one, as well. Or she will soon enough.

"If he'll accept my original terms... Which he won't do. Not without putting up a fight. The financial side shouldn't be so bad. And I suspect whatever our resident genius has rolling around in that big brain of hers should take care of the rest."

A/N: Thanks as always to linlawess for the beta-read – and for sticking with me as I fought to rework this chapter. Extra thanks to bleddyn for lending her parents' names to me.