Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Severus reappeared in the alley behind Grimmauld Place with a sigh of relief. Minerva was there waiting for him, and she promptly levitated Albus out of his arms and into the house while dragging him along by one arm. Once inside, he sank into a chair, too tired to do anything. Footsteps approached, and he looked up to see Arthur Weasley standing in front of him offering a mug of tea which he took with a nod of thanks.

A moment later, Molly Weasley shepherded in a staggering Harry Potter, followed by a levitated Sirius Black. "There you go, dear." She pushed Harry into a chair. "I'm taking Sirius upstairs. You'll need a cup of tea before you do anything else tonight. Arthur, get some tea for Harry."

"Heard anything from Kingsley?" Severus asked.

"Not yet, but it's only been a few minutes." Arthur said.

"We need a better spell than that Speech Relay," Harry said. "It's too awkward to figure out in advance who you need to be able to talk to."

"Agreed."

Arthur got that look on his face that meant he was listening to something no one else could hear. "Are you sure? What? No, you better get out of there now." He shook his head. "Kingsley says that Fudge just showed up at the Ministry, and he hasn't seen anything of the rest of the team yet."

Severus shook his head wearily. "And none of them have a communication link up."

Minerva came into the room just in time to hear the last. "Tonks just told me that they found McGaven completely pickled in a Muggle pub, and they're on their way back. They should be here pretty soon – they're looking for a place to Apparate."

"Tell them to hurry," Arthur said. "It sounds like something alerted Fudge to what we're doing."

Molly came back downstairs. "Oh dear, am I hearing right? Trouble?"

"Yes – we're calling in everyone. The other team says they have McGaven, and they're on the way back. Rita's outside as lookout."

"Damn," Harry swore suddenly. "The Souljars are still at Hogwarts!"

"No they're not, Mr. Potter," Severus replied. "We – Hermione and I – brought the two we need with us, as well as the Mens Sana potions. They're upstairs."

The younger wizard rose and pushed his glasses up. "I'm going to restore Sirius now." His expression dared anyone to contradict him. As he reached the stairs, he turned for a moment. "Thank you all for this. For everything."

Severus locked eyes with Minerva. "We have a duty also. One of us must try to restore Albus." And I need to do something to keep from worrying about Hermione.

"And you want to."

"I am – expendable. No questions will be raised if the spell backlashes." He didn't have to finish. Minerva was no fool.

"Good luck, Severus."

Luck is entirely too fickle. Severus thought as he climbed the stairs. Wish me success instead. He was just in time to hear Potter's Amor Vincit Omnia. He stepped into Albus' bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Minerva had lifted the Stupefy spell, for the old wizard was sitting up aimlessly, his features blank and eyes empty. And that is what I looked like for months. He picked up the Mens Sana potion and handed it to Albus. "Old Man, drink this and then put the vial down."

Albus complied with a slow deliberation that Severus was all too familiar with. When he set the vial down on the table, Severus picked up the Souljar and let his mind wander back over the years... Albus, who gave him a chance for redemption when no one else would. Albus, who gave him a job and a home. Albus, who defended him to all his nay-sayers. "Old Man, I hope this works, for both our sakes. I wouldn't want to try it with someone else's wand. Amor Vincit Omnia!"

Tendrils of smoky grey drifted out of the Souljar and crossed over to Albus. Slowly they grew brighter and brighter until Severus could barely stand to look at them, and there were more and more of them, weaving and spinning a web about the old wizard until nothing could be seen of him. Then they vanished, absorbed in an eye-blink.

For a moment, nothing. Then Albus raised his head and looked Severus in the eye. "Severus?"

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Yes, Albus."

Albus looked around, and Severus could almost hear his mind whirring. "Grimmauld Place?"

"There's been a lot going on. How do you feel?"

The old wizard winced and rubbed his temples. "I don't believe I've ever had such a headache."

"I'll get you some tea."

"What aren't you telling me, Severus?" Albus rose to his feet and fixed his former Potions Master with a steely eye.

Damn the man! How does he do that? I'm a grown wizard, and he makes me feel like an errant first-year! "It's a long story. If you must hear it now, come downstairs." He helped Albus down the stairs and got him settled in a chair. Minvera brought him tea and lemon drops, and Rita brought over a plate of sandwiches.

A moment or two later, Harry and Sirius appeared at the top of the stairs, Sirius leaning heavily on his godson. Molly had another chair ready, within reach of both tea and sandwiches, by the time they reached the bottom.

"Good to have you back, Albus," Moody rumbled. "Likewise, Black."

"Back?" Albus queried. "And Sirius!" The old wizard stared. "I never thought... how..." He shut up, aware that he was babbling.

"Allow me," Minerva said. "I've gotten good at summarizing." She gave them a complete and concise synopsis of the events since the battle. "While Severus and Harry were breaking the Soulstrikings, the other team returned with McGaven. He's currently Stupefied and tucked into one of the spare rooms. We still don't know what happened at the Ministry though. Fudge showed up there at a quarter to one. Tonks is watching the back alley in case they return."

"No way to communicate," Kingsley said in frustration. "I wish I hadn't had to bail out."

"Oh Ron... George..." Molly whispered. "Please be careful!"

Harry started pacing. "What can we do? We've got to help them!"

"We don't know if they need help," Moody said slowly. "Whatever we do – even if it's sit here on our duffs – we must think and not just react."

Arthur took a long breath. "You're right, Alastor. It's just – hard."

Severus watched the byplay with a twisting feeling in his gut. It is hard to know that someone you care for is possibly in danger and that you cannot act to help them. Bad enough when it is your colleagues. This is... worse. Much worse. "I will Apparate there and see what's to be seen."

"You'll do no such thing," Albus said sternly. "Nor will I, nor will Sirius. We cannot afford to be seen."

"I don't think I could Apparate across the room," Black said tiredly. "I didn't feel this bad when I got out of Azkaban the first time."

"I wish we could have a mediwitch look at you," Harry muttered. "I've done all the Healing spells I know. But Poppy's the only one I trust, and she's not a member of the Order."

Black looked much worse than Albus, Severus decided as he studied his one-time nemesis covertly. He looked dried up... bleached out... dessiccated. Like the lightest breeze would crumble him into dust and blow him away. Albus, on the other hand, seemed to be reviving more and more with each moment.

"Kingsley, was Fudge alone when he showed up?" Bill asked.

"Errm, no. He had someone with him." The big man looked a little embarrassed. "Whoever it was, was Soulstruck. You can't mistake the way they move. Wish I'd gotten a better look. Wasn't Pettigrew – I'd know him anywhere. He was wearing a hooded cloak."

"Maybe he was going to do some experimenting on his own," Molly began.

"Possible," Severus allowed, "but I think it's more likely that we somehow alerted him."

"Cornelius did buy one of the Soulstruck, now that I think about it," Arthur said. "He sent off owls to everyone in the Ministry showing how much had been brought in – but the note included a list of people who'd bought them. It didn't say who'd bought whom though."

"Oh, I can tell you that," Rita piped up. "He sent a copy of that owl to the paper, but he gave us the names of the Soulstruck and their new... owners."

Bill sat down with a thud. "I don't suppose you have that still?"

She rummaged around in her extra-large handbag. "Just a moment. It's in here somewhere." She pulled out a roll. "My boss wanted me to do a series of human interest type interviews with them – why'd you buy this one type of thing. Here you go!"

Cornelius Fudge was the thirtieth name on the list. In the next column over were two words. Severus felt his blood run cold. "Lucius Malfoy!"

~*~

Hermione was putting the Confounding Hex back in place when George ducked back around the corner from where he'd been keeping watch. "The jig's up – Fudge just showed up, and he's not alone! He's taking down his wards!"

"Crap. Forget this, Hermione. Let's go!"

She nodded, and they Apparated.

Instead of materializing outside, they reappeared in back in the corridor. "Oh shit," Ron said. "He's put up an Anti-Apparation shield."

"Spread out along the walls and freeze!" Hermione snapped. "Let the Chameleon spell work. They'll probably find two of us, but the third may have a chance to get out."

They nodded and spread out, Ron inside the laboratory, Hermione in the corridor, and George inside the cell.

"Well, well. What have we here?" Fudge stopped as he came around the turn and regarded Hermione. "You can forget that silly concealment spell; it won't stop an All Seeing Eye."

Crap! She stepped away from the wall, allowing the Chameleon spell to fade. "Good evening, Minister."

"Miss Granger, I believe. Well, this is a surprise. What could you possibly be doing down here where you have no business?"

She didn't bother replying.

"I see you're going to be troublesome. Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!" He gave her an evil grin as she fell to the floor, and caught her wand deftly. "You've slowed down since that battle in Glastonbury. I was expecting a protracted duel. Now..." he gestured and a hooded figure shuffled around the corner. "I need to know what you know, Miss Granger, and I am not a patient man." He turned to the hooded man. "Sisyphus, pick her up, and take her to the lab."

The hood fell back as the man straightened up, and Hermione got a sick feeling in her stomach as she recognized Lucius Malfoy. He slung her rigid form over his shoulder like a piece of wood, and shambled off, Fudge following. From her current position, she could see nothing but the ceiling.

"Stupefy!" She recognized Ron's voice. She heard a soft thump, and cursed mentally, desperate to know what was going on.

"Stupefy!" She had just enough time to recognize George's voice before she was falling as Malfoy measured his length on the floor. Fortunately, she landed on her captor. Then "Ugh."

"Never mind him. Get her wand!" Ron again. Footsteps, and then he was in her field of vision. "Finite Incantatem!"

She groaned as the hex released her, and sat up. George came up, looking a little pale and handed over her wand. As she took it, she saw a smear of blood on his hand. "What happened?"

"It's... well..." He helped her to her feet, and she saw what lay behind them. Fudge sprawled in heap with his head tilted at a crazy angle.

"He fell hard," Ron said. "I caught him just right with the Stupefy." He looked a bit lost. "I didn't mean to kill him like that."

She took his hands. "We'll talk about it later. Right now, we need to figure out what to do about this." He's never seen a death like this; the Killing Curse doesn't leave any marks and neither does Cruciatus.

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Right. You're in charge now."

George had his wand out. "The Anti-Apparation shield's still up. Fudge must've had the Aurors reestablish it. All his personal wards are fading now that he's...dead." He was as somber as she'd ever seen him.

"Then we walk out." She swept the area with a dispassionate glance. "All our own personal spells are gone, right?"

"Almost." He pointed his wand at Malfoy. "Ennervate!" The Soulstruck man opened his eyes but made no move to rise. "Residue from Stupefy and Ennervate fade fast. It'll be gone in less than ten minutes."

"Good. Here's what we're going to do." She took a long breath. "We're going to make this look like an accident."

A few minutes later, they began picking their way back to the ground floor, leaving behind a carefully staged mess in the lab. To the observer, it would appear that Malfoy had stepped on the hem of Fudge's trailing robes, causing the Minister to trip and break his neck. Ron had painstakingly cleared the corridor of any signs of Fudge's actual fall.

It was a long process, as they had no idea where the Aurors were on their rounds, and had to carefully edge around each turn, and through each intersection. In the little room on the first floor that they'd used as their destination originally, Hermione called for a breather.

"How do we get out of the building though?" Ron asked quietly.

"Hope and pray that Fudge didn't tell the Aurors anything other than bring up the Anti-Apparation shield," she replied. "They haven't been locking or warding the door when they go to make their rounds."

"You mean we'll just be able to walk out the main door?" George asked. "That's mind-boggling."

"That's only if they haven't changed things."

"The hard part is, we have to make it into the atrium where they're playing cards – without being seen."

Ron stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. "All windows on the first floor are barred, and there aren't any in this room anyway. I wonder... could we get out the ventilation shaft? All we need to do is get outside – even if it's on the roof – and we can Apparate.

"Give me a leg up," George said, looking at the grill above his head. "I'll see if I can get it loose – quietly. We don't dare use any magic right now."

"Right." Ron bent to let his brother stand on his shoulders. "You need to diet."

"Hssh." The older Weasley hooked his fingers in the grating and gave it an experimental tug.

"Try pushing up, as well as side to side," Hermione suggested.

"Yup. There it goes." He slid the grating out of its bed, and poked his head up. "Phew, lots of dust. No spiders though."

"Good." Ron grunted. "I'm boosting you up now!" He gripped George's ankles and lifted. There was a moment of wild scrambling, and George squirmed into the shaft. A moment later, he turned around and looked down at them.

"It's pretty good sized. Come on, Hermione. You next."

She clambered up, George offering her a steadying hand. Once she was clear of the hole, Ron took a deep breath, bent his knees, and jumped as high as he could. George seized one arm and Hermione the other, and they pulled him up after them. Then George slid the grill back in place.

"All right then. Now what?"

Hermione thought a moment. "That way is closest to the outside, but I think the other way will lead up to the roof."

"So to the roof it is," George said jauntily. He headed off in the direction she indicated, crawling on hands and knees, as the shaft was far too low to stand upright. Hermione followed, and Ron brought up the rear. All too soon, the shaft began sloping upward, growing narrower as it did so.

"Uh oh."

The slope got steeper and the corridor narrower, and they were finally forced to abandon crawling and begin "chimney climbing" – holding themselves in place with the pressure of their hands and feet against the sides of the shaft. It was a tedious business, as they gained only inches at a time.

George paused for a moment and wiped his hands on his shirt one at a time, supporting himself with his feet alone. If he fell, he'd take the other two with him. He braced his hands against the shaft walls at shoulder level, and brought his feet up as high as he could. Once his feet were braced again, he straightened his knees out, forcing his torso as high as he could. Then it was time to repeat the process again.

In the shaft below him, Hermione was more than a little worried. This had seemed like a good idea initially. Now, they had to stop more and more often to rest, and their hands were sore from the constant pressure. Ron had slipped once, and slid nearly three feet before catching himself. It had been hard to do nothing, to hold onto the rough metal and watch helplessly. But there was nothing she could've done. All of them knew it.

George stopped again, and she looked up. He was doing something, but she couldn't see. All of a sudden, moonlight filtered in through a hole in the side of the shaft. She saw his silhouette from the chest up as he gripped the edges of the opening and pulled himself out the vent hood to stand under the open sky. "Come on," he said. "It's flat out here."

Two minutes later, they were all collapsed on the roof of the Ministry of Magic. "Can't Apparate," Ron said muzzily. "Too tired. Splinch."

"It's just after 3am – we were crawling in that shaft for nearly two hours."

"Merlin! Mum's gotta be frantic by now!" George said as he put the panel back in place.

"We'll rest for ten minutes and then Apparate," Hermione said.

"Right." George settled himself comfortably and pillowed his head on his knees. Ron sprawled on his back, already half-asleep. Hermione sat down beside George and closed her eyes for just a moment...

~*~

After much furious discussion – and quite a bit of yelling – the Order of the Phoenix had sent Bill Weasley out on a reconnaissance mission using Harry's invisibility cloak. He'd returned in less than an hour saying that he couldn't see or hear anything suspicious.

"I walked by twice, and the Aurors were just sitting there playing Exploding Snap. No sign of anyone, including Fudge."

"If they'd been caught, the place would be lit up like a Christmas tree," Arthur said, "and they'd be owling everyone. Ginny would let us know."

"Unless it was Fudge who caught them," Tonks said around a mouthful of sandwich. "He's no slouch as a wizard."

"So what do we do?" Molly nearly shrieked.

"We wait," Albus said. "Arthur is right. Even if Fudge caught them, he'd have to explain their presence somehow – and we would know."

"Let's send someone on recon every half hour or so," Harry suggested. "At least we'll be doing something!"

"Very well, Harry." Albus looked around at the rest of the Order. "Who should be in the rotation for recon?"

"Me," Bill said at once.

"I'll go," Kingsley volunteered.

"I'll lend anyone my cloak," Harry said slowly, "but I'd rather stay here with Sirius." Black was obviously failing. They'd moved him into a bedroom, and Harry could hardly be dragged away from his side.

"If we're simply doing a recon," Severus said, striving for his most reasonable tone, "I can certainly do that. Using Mr. Potter's cloak, I won't be seen."

"I suppose," Albus sounded tired. "So the three of you work it out among yourselves."

"You need to rest, Albus," Minerva chided. "We'll wake you the minute there's any news." She took the old wizard by the arm and all but dragged him up the stairs. "Now stay there and sleep!"

Since Bill had already done one recon, they decided that Kingsley should do the next, and Severus the one after that. Then it was just a matter of chewing their nails as the minutes crawled past. Arthur finally sent Molly home to "rest" and to update Ginny on the situation, though he doubted she'd really get any rest.

Kingsley was grim when he returned at 2:30am. "At some point, they put up an Anti-Apparation shield around the Ministry building. My guess is that Ron and them are working their way out."

"That's not going to be easy," Moody rumbled. "There's no good way to get out, except by the front door – and that's where the Aurors sit."

Harry came out of Sirius' room, and marched over to his former Potions instructor. "He wants to speak to you. Alone." His tone was an odd mix of resentment and supplication.

Severus rose slowly and went into the room, shutting the door behind him. Black was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, the fingers of his right hand curled around the wand Minerva had given him. The rise and fall of his chest was the only sign of life. "You asked to see me?"

Sirius opened his eyes slowly. They were sunken pits in his face, almost like the sockets in a skull. "Snape – never was good with words. Told Harry about what happened at the Ministry. Not your fault. Mine." He took a long ragged breath. "'m sorry about setting you up with Remus. Wasn't right, and what Albus did about it wasn't right either." Another long shaky breath. "I'm dying. I know it. Two things to tell you first. 's obvious you care for Hermione. Saw your face. Tell her, man." His voice was fading, the words slurring. "Other thing is, was me and James who hurt you. Don't blame Harry." His eyes closed on the last words.

Severus threw the door open. "Potter!"

Harry was there instantly, with Minerva and Albus right behind him. He knelt beside the bed and took his godfather's hand. "He's dying, isn't he?"

"Yes. I'll leave you alone with him."

"No," Harry said slowly. "Stay. Please. All of you." He looked up at them, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'd like you to stay."

They kept a silent vigil as Sirius' breathing grew shallower and shallower and finally stopped entirely. Harry let his tears fall finally, the tears he hadn't been able to shed the first time he thought he'd lost him. Minerva was weeping quietly also, and Albus had his arms around her. Hesitantly, Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder, not sure if his comfort would be accepted.

Harry turned and looked up, surprise flashing across his face. He swallowed hard, twice. "Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Severus." He felt his resentment for the young wizard fading in the face of grief. "You can call me Severus if you wish."

"Thank you, Severus." He looked down for a moment then met Severus' eyes. "You can call me Harry."

Severus nodded. "Black and I made our peace. I think he would be pleased."

The rest of the Order began filing into the room, offering Harry their condolences. As they came in, Severus left. He was more than a bit unsettled, and wanted something to do. Finally when he couldn't stand it any more, he picked up Harry's cloak and swirled it about his shoulders. "I'm going to go take a look around the Ministry." He was gone before Kingsley's wishes for good luck were voiced.

At the Apparation point they'd used before, he stopped and made sure the cloak covered him entirely. Then he walked by the building, pausing to take a good look through the window. It was as Bill had said: the three Aurors were there, with their interminable card game.

The door from the street opened into that room. The only other way out was the doors that led to the stairs up or down. No place for them to hide. Where are you, Hermione? You wouldn't sit and wait to be rescued; you don't need a knight in shining armor.

He walked around the building, looking for other exits. There were none. He knew it, but looked nonetheless. It was much like any other office building, tall and blocky, with heavily barred windows on the ground floor, and only the one door. So much for the obvious means. He considered the problem. In his years as a spy, he'd often worked his way into places he wasn't supposed to be. People were often careless with window latches on upper floors.

The back of the building had no windows, and the sides were too well lit for Snape's comfort. He circled the Ministry building again, this time halting next to the little storage shed behind it. The shed was locked but not warded, and a simple Alohamora opened it. He stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him before casting a Lumos.

The shed was obviously used for storage. It held a couple of broken chairs, a three legged table, a cracked mirror, and, yes, there was the handle of a broomstick wedged in behind a file-cabinet that was missing its second drawer.

"Accio broom!" A moment later, the dusty old Lightning 320 hung in the air in front of him. He doused the light from his wand with a quick Nox, and stepped outside again. Once the shed was relocked, he mounted the broom and kicked off, being careful to cover it completely with the cloak. He rose slowly; the broom was somewhat past its prime, and quite splintery.

"Damn this thing. Lightning Reparo!" The broom twisted under him as its spells strengthened. The splinters wove their way into their original grooves in the grain, and the bedraggled bristles grew crisp again. Now it responded to his unspoken commands, taking him up to the roof where he landed.

A noise behind him made him start, and he nearly dropped the broom. Readjusting the cloak, he turned around and saw the three huddled up against a ventilation hood, sound asleep. An unidentifiable snore had caught his attention.

He didn't know whether to be angry or relieved, as he knelt beside the youngest Weasley and shook him gently. "Get up, Mr. Weasley." He repeated the action and words with George. Then, "Wake up, Hermione."

They stirred and slowly woke, looking somewhat baffled. Hermione yawned and then looked at her watch. "George! Ron! We fell asleep! Get up!"

Ron slowly levered himself to his feet. "Gonna Apparate now?" he asked, obviously still not awake. George hadn't managed to rise yet, though he was stretching and blinking furiously as his brain began kicking in.

Snape decided it was time to get them back to Grimmauld Place. He threw back the cloak and appeared in his signature black in front of them. "If you were still in school, I'd take thirty points from Gryffindor for falling asleep."

Hermione yelped, "Severus!" She threw her arms around him, not caring what Ron and George might think. He didn't care what they thought either, as he returned her hug with interest. She broke their embrace and stared at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to fetch you, obviously." He tilted an eyebrow at the still-groggy Weasleys. "If you can Apparate with one, I'll manage the other."

She nodded and took Ron's arm. Severus hauled George to his feet. A moment later, they vanished.

They reappeared behind Grimmauld Place, and Tonks dragged them inside yodeling at the top of her lungs. Tea and sandwiches were handed around liberally, and Harry quietly informed them of Sirius' death.

"I'll never forget him," he said, "but I'll try not to make the mistakes he did." A long breath. "We have to stop Fudge, no matter what."

Hermione began recounting the events at the Ministry. Long habit kept her audience mostly quiet, although Moody did let out a few snorts. Molly paled at the description of Ron nearly falling down the shaft, and pulled him into her lap as if he were five instead of nearly eighteen.

Severus took hold of Hermione's wrist with gentle fingers and turned her hand over, exposing the scrapes and blisters. Minerva let out a vile Scottish oath and began casting Healing spells on the three of them. This temporarily interrupted the story, and when Hermione resumed, she found herself sitting next to Severus with him still holding her wrist – something she didn't mind in the least.

"That's the end of it," she said. "We got out the access panel, and we were too tired to Apparate. We would've splinched, certainly. So we were going to rest for a few minutes..."

"And we fell asleep," George finished. "Had some of the weirdest dreams too – right before I woke up, Hermione, I dreamed you were hugging Professor Snape."

"Yeah," Ron said, "I dreamed the same thing."

Hermione rolled her eyes at them. Snape ignored the comment.

"We will have to convene the Wizengamot to get Severus' conviction overturned," Albus said, "but that shouldn't present any great difficulty – though it will have to wait until they appoint a new Minister."

"What about the other Death Eaters?" Kingsley asked. "Is it possible that any of them are innocent?"

"A good point! We should insist on restoring everyone who was Soulstruck and having proper public trials."

"I don't think we have to bring exactly how Fudge died into it," Moody said. "It's not germane. But we'll have to be careful to skate around it."

"More than that," Harry said, "We really don't want anyone else to get the same idea he had. I'd honestly recommend Obliviating McGaven and burning his notes." He bit his lip. "I don't want anyone else to be Soulstruck. Ever."

"Fudge is dead and his plans with him," Rita mused. "Too bad I can't print it – it'd make a great story."

~*~

"I'm glad that's over," Hermione told Severus, as they entered their quarters later that night. "You'll probably have to pretend to be Soulstruck for a while yet, but not much longer."

"For which grace, many thanks," he muttered. Then, "I wonder if I can talk Minerva into letting me teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Surely you'd rather teach Potions!"

"Hermione, that is your position here. I'm quite certain that Minerva intends to make your job permanent. I wouldn't want to take it away from you."

"But you... Severus, what do you want to do with your life?"

He considered. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him what he wanted. "Honestly, I don't want to teach. I want to do research and experimentation in Potions. But – that takes money."

Enlightenment dawned. Once Soulstruck, Severus had lost everything. His Gringotts vault had been emptied into the thirsty coffers of the Ministry. He was, literally, a non-person. "Anyone whose conviction is overturned will be owed something..." she began.

He snorted. "I could spend the rest of my life trying to collect that debt. My reputation wasn't the best, and Fudge – may he rot in the deepest hole in Hell – destroyed what remained of it. Here, at least, I may find work for a while." He sat down and stretched out his long legs. "Don't go all noble on me, and offer to lend me the money to 'get started', Hermione. It's not just about the cost. It will be a long time before my name is not synonymous with Death Eater. No reputable firm will have dealings with me for some years to come."

She tilted her head to one side, considering. Then she laughed. "Severus, you are altogether too Slytherin! In about ten years, the movers and shakers of the wizarding world will be your former students from Defense classes! It's brilliant!" She sat down on the couch across from him.

He shrugged. "I do not enjoy teaching, that's true. But I think I can do more to repair my general reputation here, than anywhere else. I can also do Potions research in my spare time, if the Potions instructor will permit it, that is."

"Of course."

"There is this also." He rose and crossed the room, taking a seat next to her, though not quite as close as he wished. "I have grown used to being around you." It was as close as he could come to voicing his feelings.

She turned to face him, looking at him directly. "I prefer you here also."

He shifted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She settled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Peace.