Sunday Bloody Sunday

SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY

Disclaimer: All the characters depicted belong to JK Rowling and associates. I just enjoy playing with them once in a while.

Once again, many thanks go to Beta extraordinaire Snarkyroxy, for her input and encourgement.

Sundays in the Snape household were usually spent together as a family. On this particular Sunday, however, the children had been invited to a birthday party in Hogsmeade, and Severus had decided to take the opportunity this afforded to catch up on his private research. This left Hermione with some rare free time on her hands.

After Flooing to Hogsmeade with the children, Hermione decided to walk back home, thinking that the fresh air would do her good and that the exercise would help her sleep. It was a brisk but sunny early-autumn day as she set out, and it wasn't long before her solitude and the beauty of the countryside put her in a contemplative mood. A cool breeze with the promise of winter behind it blew in from the north. Hermione shivered and pulled her cloak around her. The cold didn't really bother her that much; in fact she welcomed its cleansing effect on her mind.

Like blowing out the cobwebs in a dusty old attic, she thought to herself.

As she passed through the gates, instead of going straight up to the castle as she had intended, on impulse Hermione veered off the path and headed in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. Just before it lay her destination – the patch of ground that had come to be known as the Place of the Fallen, the site where Voldemort had finally been defeated and destroyed. There were no graves here, but simple white stones had been erected to mark the locations where each witch and wizard fighting for the light had given their lives.

Hermione knew who most of the stones commemorated without looking at the inscriptions. First there was Hagrid's, followed closely by a cluster of stones representing the Aurors that Hermione had not known at the time, but whose names had since passed into legend. Closer to where the centre of the action had been, Hermione walked around Kingsley Shacklebolt's marker and briefly stopped next to the small black obelisk that indicated the spot where Tom Riddle had met his nemesis. Moving past the point where she herself had fought, Hermione turned to the right and walked the short distance to a stone that stood apart from the main battlefield. Ron's.

Picking up a twig, Hermione Transfigured it into a low stool and sat down. She was soon lost in contemplation. Although Ron was buried near his family home, it was here that both Hermione and Harry felt closest to him. Each year on the anniversary of the battle, they made the short pilgrimage to Ron's Stone together, but Hermione rarely went there on her own, due to the memories that were invariably invoked. Today, though, she found the tranquillity of the place soothing.

Hermione had learned how to meditate in her late teens. She had found it a useful practice to order her thoughts and to find inner peace whenever she was troubled. She had fallen out of the habit in her early twenties, but lately she had been trying to incorporate it into her daily schedule once more. Annoyingly, it was proving to be more difficult to switch off and turn inward than she expected. She had never experienced any difficulty finding her still centre before, but now she found she could only go so far and no further. There seemed to be an obstacle in her way that she could not overcome. This in turn bothered her as she tried to fathom out what that obstacle could be.

She inhaled a great lungful of cool air and exhaled slowly. 'Remember when I tried to teach you, Ron,' Hermione said out loud, 'and you kept falling asleep? I wish you were here now to tell me how you managed it.' She smiled at the memory. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Her eyes were drawn down to the white tomb next to the lake. The sunlight reflecting off the marble seemed to make it shimmer, from where Hermione was sitting.

Meditation and Ron, she thought. Two things that probably saved my sanity.

The period immediately following Dumbledore's death had been the most miserable time of Hermione's life, and yet she had gone to Bill and Fleur's wedding not long after and managed to put on a happy face.

Security had been tight at The Burrow – with Harry Potter in attendance, no one was taking any chances. While everyone did their best to make the day a special one for the bride and groom, the occasion was still tinged with sadness. Even with Fleur's Veela relatives working their magic on the male guests, it had still been a sombre affair.

Ron had been watching Hermione the whole time, waiting for an opportunity to speak. He knew she had something on her mind, but each time he had tried to approach her, she would make some excuse, saying she was tired or had a headache or she had to be somewhere else.

Ron spotted his chance after the ceremony when Hermione wandered off into the garden alone. Picking up two glasses of champagne, he followed her.

'Drink?'

'What? Oh, yes. Thanks, Ron.'

'Shall we go and sit over there?' Ron guided her by the elbow to the far corner of the garden. They sat on the ground in the shade of an old oak tree.

Hermione sipped her champagne and stared off into the middle distance. 'At least the weather held for them.'

Ron was worried by Hermione's behaviour. She was always the sensible one, always focused, always reliable. She had become very remote since Dumbledore's death – as had Harry. He felt like both his friends were slipping away from him. Without Hermione's help, Ron didn't think he would be able to reach Harry either. He had to find out what was troubling her, although he had a pretty good idea already.

'Hermione,' he began, 'you said you wanted to talk to me.'

'When? Oh, right, at the funeral. I, um... it doesn't matter. It wasn't important.' Hermione stared at her drink as if fascinated by the bubbles.

'It's Snape, isn't it?'

Her head shot up. 'How did you guess? I mean how...'

'I've been thinking a lot about him, too, Hermione. A lot of things have happened that don't make sense, and I'm guessing you think so, too, but don't want to say anything because Harry would go ballistic.'

'What sort of things, Ron?' Hermione asked cautiously.

'Well, and this is just off the top of my head... Why did Dumbledore Stun Harry and not defend himself for starters? Harry couldn't be seen – they would have had the element of surprise with him wearing his Invisibility Cloak. Harry might even have been able to stop Snape from killing Dumbledore. He could certainly have taken out Malfoy. I just don't understand it.'

In all honesty, Hermione had not given this much thought. She had been too wrapped up in her own problems to think about Dumbledore's actions that fateful night. She gave Ron her full attention.

'Then there's Snape,' Ron continued. 'Why didn't Snape kill Harry when he had the chance, or Flitwick or you or Luna or Tonks or anyone else, for that matter?'

Hermione tried to think logically. 'Other than Harry, I suppose the answer could be that he didn't want to show his hand too early. He wanted to get to Dumbledore unimpeded.'

'True. But Harry? Even if he was under orders from Voldemort not to kill him, he could have done him some serious damage, but he didn't. Snape just kept blocking every spell Harry threw at him. And he stopped the other Death Eaters from cursing him as well.' Ron shook his head. 'I just don't get it.'

There was a pause. 'Hermione, you spent a lot of extra time with him, didn't you?'

She nodded. 'Yes, I did. You know I did.'

'Did you notice anything odd about his behaviour, I mean, anything suspicious or... or... something?'

Hermione had been uncertain up until that point what, if anything, she should tell Ron about her relationship with Severus. Suddenly making her mind up, she took a deep breath and told Ron word for word what Severus had said to her that night in the dungeons.

Ron whistled. 'It's ambiguous, though, isn't it? My loyalties will remain the same. Loyalty to who?'

'Yes, I know, but despite appearances. Doesn't that imply 'despite the fact I killed Dumbledore and everyone thinks I'm a traitor, I'm still on your side'? And another thing,' she added getting into her stride, 'you know he was trying to find the cure for the curse that withered Professor Dumbledore's arm?'

Ron nodded.

'Well, I saw him throw things in a temper because his potion kept failing. I saw him forget to eat, Ron, because he was so desperate to find the cure. Why go to all that trouble if he planned on murdering Dumbledore? I don't think it was all an act for my benefit.'

'But if he is on our side why did he kill Dumbledore?'

'That I can't tell you,' Hermione admitted. 'I'm just as confused as you are. I'll have to give it more thought.'

Hermione's brain went into overdrive. Ron watched as his friend shook off her stupor and started acting like her old self. It hadn't escaped his notice, either, just how animated she had become as she spoke about Severus Snape or how her features seemed to soften. It seemed familiar somehow, like the look on Ginny's face when she talked about Harry...

Merlin's Balls! It can't be. Not Hermione and SNAPE.

'You're in love with him, aren't you.' It wasn't a question.

Hermione hung her head and nodded. She wasn't going to deny it.

'What about him?'

'He has...had feelings for me,' Hermione admitted hesitantly.

'You haven't...' Please tell me you haven't. The thought of Hermione having sex with Snape was almost as bad as the thought of his parents doing it.

'He didn't want to abuse his position as a teacher,' she replied carefully. There was no way she was going to tell anyone, not even her closest friends, about the incident in the library. 'I don't want to talk about it, Ron, and I would be grateful if you didn't mention it to anyone else.'

Ron decided not to pursue it, although the question of conflicting loyalties did cross his mind for a fraction of a second. 'So, what do you think we should do, Hermione? Should we tell anyone about our suspicions?'

'No. They're just that. Suspicions. We have no proof. Let's keep it to ourselves for the moment. Our first priority has to be helping Harry find the remaining Horcruxes.'

'Okay, agreed.' Ron stood up. 'I don't know about you, but I could do with another drink after all that.' He held out his hand to Hermione.

She smiled up at him. 'I don't suppose another glass of fizz would do any harm.' Hermione rose to her feet and brushed the grass off her robe. 'Thank you Ron.' She gave him a peck on the cheek.

'What was that for?' he asked, reddening slightly.

'For being there.'

Feeling more hopeful that all was not lost, Hermione took Ron's hand, and they strolled back to the party.

**********************

It had taken a few weeks after the tragic events at Hogwarts, but, under Professor McGonagall, the Order of the Phoenix had regrouped. Now that Harry had come of age and had left the Dursleys' for the last time, it was unanimously decided that his safety was the number one priority.

To that end, number twelve, Grimmauld Place was once again made Unplottable, placed under the Fidelius Charm and a new Secret Keeper appointed. As much as Harry detested the house, he realised that Sirius' old home was as safe a place as any for him to stay and that the Order needed a Headquarters. He was advised by Alastor Moody not to go out unless it was absolutely necessary and to let an Order member know if he did.

Not long after Bill and Fleur's wedding, Ron and Hermione moved in with him. Harry was grateful for their company as he was starting to climb the walls in boredom and frustration. Harry wanted action. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to lash out in all directions to assuage the grief and guilt he felt over Dumbledore's death. Most of all, he wanted to kill Severus Snape.

Hermione and Ron could both see that Harry's present state of mind was not going to get him anywhere. In fact, it was likely to get him killed. With a great deal of tact and persuasion, they managed to convince him that this was a time for planning and recuperation. Vengeance could wait. The Horcruxes had to be located and destroyed before a confrontation with Voldemort could even be considered. The trouble was, none of them had a clue where to start the search.

The three of them were sitting in the library when they had their first real break.

Hermione, for some light relief, had picked up a book on ancient runes. She opened the cover and shrieked, making the two boys leap out of their seats and draw their wands in fright.

'Look,' she said, grinning from ear to ear. She turned the book around so they could see. On the inside of the front cover was a bookplate, which bore the inscription:

EX LIBRIS

Regulus A. Black

'R. A. B.,' said Ron and Harry together.

'That's brilliant, Hermione!' exclaimed Ron. 'Now we just have to work out where he could have hidden the locket.'

'Here,' said Harry. 'He hid it here.'

Hermione and Ron looked at him, but before they could say anything, Harry yelled, 'KREACHER!'

With a crack the surly old house-elf appeared.

'Master called me?' Kreacher bowed deferentially, if somewhat reluctantly. He looked at Hermione in disgust and opened his mouth to say something.

Before Kreacher had a chance to launch into his usual tirade of abuse, Harry cut in. 'Yes, Kreacher, I believe there is a locket hidden somewhere in this house, a golden locket with an 'S' like a snake on the front. I want you to bring it to me. I want you to bring it to me right now; you are not to go anywhere else, either before or after retrieving the locket. You are to bring it straight to me, and you are not to tell anyone in any way shape or form that you have done so. Do I make myself clear?'

Within minutes, Harry was holding Salazar Slytherin's locket. Hermione and Ron looked at the locket with him, but neither made any move to touch it.

'How did you know, Harry?' Hermione almost whispered, staring at the ancient artefact with a look of both awe and horror on her face.

'I saw the locket in Dumbledore's Pensieve, remember?'

The others nodded.

'I remembered there being a locket that no one could open when we had that cleanout last year. I just put two and two together.'

'The stuff that Kreacher wouldn't throw away, of course,' said Ron.

'Yes. Looks like he did us a favour. He will be pleased.' Harry grinned, feeling that perhaps, at last, their luck was changing. They had found a Horcrux; the question now was, what were they going to do with it?

* * *

The three of them argued long into the night about the best course of action to take. They knew the locket was certainly protected by at least one lethal curse, and even if they managed to get around that, there was still the problem of removing the soul fragment from the Horcrux itself. Eventually, they had to admit they were out of their depth, and after much deliberation, they decided to let Remus in on the secret.

Remus duly arrived at number twelve looking decidedly the worse for wear. Since Severus' defection, Remus had been unable to find a reliable source of the Wolfsbane Potion and had undergone two transformations without its benefit. Harry offered to get in touch with Professor Slughorn on his behalf – a proposal that Remus was only too happy to accept.

After they had explained the situation, Remus poured himself a large firewhisky and sat in stunned silence for a while.

Hermione spoke first. 'Remus, I've scoured the library at Hogwarts as well as the one here, but I've only ever found a passing reference to Horcruxes. I can't find anything about how they are made, never mind how they are destroyed.'

'I'm not surprised,' Remus eventually spoke. 'They are so evil, who but a madman would want to know how to make one?' He took a large gulp of whisky and continued, 'What I find interesting is that you, Harry, destroyed the diary without it harming you, and yet when Dumbledore destroyed Marvolo's ring it almost killed him.'

'I had thought of that, too,' said Harry. 'It has to be something to do with my scar. Perhaps the diary didn't see me as a threat.'

'I think you may be right, Harry,' Remus agreed, 'but I don't think you should try anything with the locket yet; it's too risky. I will make some enquiries and get back to you.'

Harry sighed. 'Okay, I won't touch it. I'd feel a lot happier, though, if I could destroy this fragment. It gives me the creeps.'

'You cannot destroy the soul fragment, Harry.'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked.

'A soul, by definition, is immortal – even Voldemort's,' Remus replied. 'You can destroy the vessel holding it to the earth plane, that is all.'

Harry was about to question Remus further when the Floo activated and Professor McGonagall stepped into the parlour.

'Oh, good, you're all here. Hello, Remus, nice to see you.'

'Hello, Professor McGonagall,' said Hermione, 'is everything all right?'

'Yes, my dear,' replied Minerva. 'I have two pieces of news. The first is that Hogwarts will be opening as normal next month.'

'Oh, that is good news,' said Hermione, feeling a slight pang that she herself would not be going back.

'Indeed,' continued Minerva. 'The Ministry decided that the children would be as safe at Hogwarts as anywhere. The only stipulation is that the children of known Death Eaters will not be invited to attend. I'm afraid Slytherin House will be sadly depleted this year.'

'That's no loss,' said Ron.

Minerva ignored him. 'The second piece of news and the reason I have come here today is that Sybill Trelawney has made another prophecy.'

'She really should cut down on the cooking sherry,' Hermione muttered under her breath.

'What was that, dear?' Minerva asked sharply.

'Nothing, Professor,' Hermione answered. 'What did she say?'

Minerva took a piece of parchment out of her pocket, cleared her throat and read:

The reign of Darkness approaches

The Seventh Child completes the Seven.

'She's excelled herself this time,' said Ron. 'What the bloody hell does that mean?'

**********************

The next few months passed by interminably slowly, with little progress in their hunt for the remaining Horcruxes. Hermione turned eighteen, which at least gave them all an excuse for a celebration. She managed to spend a few hours with her parents, although it was not an entirely happy occasion as Hermione decided to come clean about her current situation. The Grangers were, naturally, not very pleased that Hermione had chosen to leave school in her final year, but under the circumstances, they understood her decision and gave her their full support.

Three people cooped up in the same house were bound to get on each others nerves eventually, and so it proved. To let off steam, they cleared out the dining room and turned it into a duelling practice area – an hour a day working up a sweat throwing and deflecting hexes soon took the edge of their restlessness. Remus stopped by to help out whenever he could, and Hermione made sure they practiced non-verbal spells, just as Severus had instructed.

To fill in time in the day and to keep her mind off Severus, Hermione decided to catch up with some of the course work she should have been doing that year. Potions and Herbology were out due to their practical nature, so she decided to concentrate on Charms, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Transfiguration. The boys, out of sheer boredom, allowed her to bully them into doing some work as well.

Although Hermione had had little success in discovering anything useful about Horcruxes, her research had led her off on various tangents, one of which she found particularly interesting. She found the whole subject of Curse Breaking increasingly fascinating and was beginning to seriously consider it as a career.

Assuming I live long enough to complete my education, she silently reminded herself.

In the evenings, they discussed battle strategies and the meaning of Trelawney's latest prophecy.

'I've often wondered,' said Ron one evening, 'what Voldemort's motives are exactly.'

'How do you mean?' Harry asked.

'Well, other than the fact that he's obsessed with being immortal and killing you, what does he plan on doing with the wizarding world afterwards? Is he going to rule by terror alone or does he intend to take over the existing government and turn his followers into civil servants.'

'I can just see Lucius Malfoy as a pen-pusher. It would be a fate worse than death for him.' Hermione laughed. 'Seriously though, you do have a point, Ron. Has Voldemort thought of taking over the government? If he has, it begs the question, are there any spies in place already? I think you should bring it up for consideration at the next Order meeting.'

'Okay, I will,' Ron agreed, sounding pleased. 'Now, what about this prophecy. The four elements are earth, air, fire and water, right?'

'I suppose so,' said Hermione, 'but it's not really an exact science, is it?'

'Oh, come on, Hermione,' Harry interrupted, 'you must have some idea.'

'Well, I think the elements represent Hogwarts' four houses – earth is Hufflepuff, air is Ravenclaw, fire is Gryffindor and water is Slytherin,' Hermione conceded.

'Makes sense.' Ron nodded in agreement. 'The Sorting Hat's been banging on about the houses uniting for years.'

'How, though?' Harry pondered out loud. 'I mean, is it a symbolic union - a ceremony of some kind - or does it just mean that representatives of each house have to fight together on the day?'

'The last line speaks of the Seven,' Hermione offered. 'That suggests four individuals to me – one representing each house. If we are the Three that makes seven.'

'So you and I,' said Ron, indicating Hermione, 'are the two behind the one, which is Harry.'

'My wand is made from holly,' Harry pushed on, 'and yours are?'

'Vine,' replied Hermione.

'Ash,' said Ron softly, 'so it looks like I won't be there, then.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Ron, of course you will. It's just a stupid prediction after all. The future is what we make it, nothing is set in stone.' Hermione was angry, not with Ron, but because she had been thinking along similar lines herself. She knew of only one Seventh Child who had a wand made of hazel, and neither Harry nor Ron were going to be happy when they realised who that person was.

**********************

It was early November before Remus finally discovered the spell to extract the soul fragment. Harry was delighted to be able to do something at last. Remus, however, still advised caution.

'Harry, the incantation is not complicated, and I think you have immunity to the curse that protects it. My only concern is that, once released, the fragment will seek out its other splintered parts. It might try to attach itself to you.'

'I'll have to take that risk,' Harry said immediately.

'We can't afford to lose you, Harry. It may be better if I attempt it.'

'No, Remus, absolutely not, I won't let you sacrifice yourself. I'm the one who has to destroy Voldemort, and I will, even if it means doing it piece by piece.'

'Remus,' Hermione interjected, 'could you use some sort of Banishing Charm after the fragment has been released?'

Remus gave it some thought. 'I don't think Harry would have time to cast the spell.'

'Then what about a team effort?' Hermione suggested.

'Too dangerous,' Harry replied. 'We don't know the extent of the magical backlash from the curse.'

'I think it could work.' Hermione wasn't going to give up easily. 'Harry removes the soul, Remus Banishes it, and Ron and I provide the defence shields.'

After much argument and deliberation, they decided that Hermione's plan, though not without risk, was the best course of action to take. There was no point delaying matters any further. Hermione, Remus and Ron stood back as Harry began the incantation. With no sign of the curse being activated, they moved closer and watched as wisps of green smoke began to spiral out of the locket. Once free, as Remus had predicted, the soul fragment made a bee-line for Harry's scar. Remus cast the strongest Banishing Charm he knew, which held long enough for Hermione to cast a defence shield around Harry. Ron stood by to protect Remus, if necessary, but there was no need. The green cloud simply evaporated.

'Well,' said Ron, clearly relieved, 'that was something of an anti-climax.'

'It didn't even harm the locket.' Hermione looked at the former Horcrux. 'Is it safe to touch, Remus?'

Remus passed his wand over the locket. 'It still has a strong magical signature, but the evil I detected before is definitely gone. It is safe.'

'What are you going to do with it, Harry?' Hermione asked. 'It must be worth a fortune.'

'I suppose we still have to keep it hidden for the moment,' Harry replied. 'But afterwards... Would you like to have it, Remus? I think you deserve it.'

'As tempting as that is, Harry, I have to ask you a question. If that was Helga Hufflepuff's cup or a Ravenclaw heirloom, what would you do?'

'I'd present it to the Head of House...'

'Exactly. When the time comes, you should present the locket to the Head of Slytherin, whoever that may be.'

'I suppose you're right,' Harry grudgingly agreed. 'Still, at least I won't have to give it to Snape.'

**********************

Christmas was fast approaching and their quest had not progressed any further. Other than doing some Christmas shopping, the trio had remained largely at Grimmauld Place. Despite the risk, they all decided that it would be too depressing to stay at number twelve for all of the holidays and so, on Christmas Eve, they Flooed to The Burrow.

On Christmas Day, as the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry were sitting around the Christmas tree opening their presents, an unfamiliar owl tapped on the window, carrying a small parcel. Mrs Weasley let it in. The bird flew straight over to Harry, dropped the package in his lap and flew out the window again without even waiting to see if it would be offered an Owl Treat.

Harry tapped the package gingerly with his wand. The aura of Dark Magic it exuded was unmistakeable. Everyone in the room felt it.

'Don't touch it, Harry,' said Arthur. 'It's dangerous, whatever it is.'

'It's all right, Mr Weasley,' Harry assured him, recovering from the shock of having a Horcrux dumped on his lap on Christmas morning, 'I think I know what it is, but I need to contact Remus before I open it.'

'He'll be here soon, dear,' said Mrs Weasley. 'He and Tonks are both coming to dinner.'

'What's that on top?' Hermione asked, pointing at a small scroll of parchment stuck to the parcel.

Harry carefully detached it with his wand. It seemed harmless enough. They all watched as the little scroll unfurled itself in front of Harry's eyes. He read out, 'The Old Crow loved diamonds.' As soon as he had finished, the parchment promptly burst into flames.

'What on earth is going on here, Harry?' Mr Weasley demanded.

'He can't tell you, Dad,' Ron interrupted. 'Please don't ask.'

'Well,' said Molly, 'whatever it is, it can wait until after lunch.' She started waving her wand to clear up the mound of wrapping paper on the floor. 'Oh, and Hermione, dear, I forgot to mention, I've invited your parents.'

* * *

There was yet one more surprise in store that Christmas. Just as they were tucking into the pudding, Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived at the Burrow to inform them that there had been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Hermione barely had time to say goodbye to her parents before she was bundled towards the fireplace with Harry and Ron. In spite of her pleas for them to go into hiding, Mr and Mrs Granger decided to return home. Kingsley arranged an escort and assured Hermione that they would be protected.

'Mum, Dad, please listen to the Aurors,' she begged her parents. 'Do whatever they say. If they tell you to leave the house, don't ask questions, just go. Please, please be careful. Better still, come and stay with us. I know you'll be safe then.'

Her parents kissed her goodbye and told her not to worry. Hermione never saw them again.

* * *

Back at Grimmauld Place that evening, Harry opened the package. Inside, as they had hoped, was Helga Hufflepuff's cup. Once again, with Remus' help, they Banished another piece of Voldemort's soul.

'I wonder who could have sent it?' Harry pondered, staring at the little gold cup.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances but said nothing.

'Ah, well. Four down, two to go.'

Ron yawned. 'I don't know about you lot, but I'm knackered. I think I'll turn in.'

It had certainly been an eventful day. They all realised that the escape of the Death Eaters earlier on could only mean that war was edging closer. Hermione was also convinced that the cup could only have been sent by Severus, which meant he was still alive and on their side. She hoped he was still safe after taking such a risk. Hermione had tried not to think about him too much the last few months. After all, she reasoned with herself, it wasn't like they had any kind of relationship, and there was precious little chance of seeing him again. Still, Severus had shown his loyalty today. Tomorrow, she would give his message her full attention.