2 of 2 - The Final Ties

A/N: I normally hate prefaces to chapters; however, in this particular case, I want to be quite clear...I don't want anyone to feel I think little of non-consensual sex, because I don't.

I do feel that in times of war, generals make tough decisions about their soldiers sometimes, and Albus was definitely a general for the side of Light, and the Order were his soldiers. Every woman who enlists to go fight in war is aware of the possibility that she might be subject to non-consensual sexual contact. It is almost inevitable if captured. I do not believe the women of the Order were ignorant of the possibility, not given the Death Eaters' proclivities (any enemy who kills without compunction will have no compunction about committing any lesser offense), nor what was reported by the media.

* * * *

Hermione had sent an elf for food, and after Severus had eaten, hands stiff and uncertain in using the silverware, she had sent the used tray with the elf and bidden it to fetch her some potions.

She had given him a mild pain potion for his rheumatic fingers and wrists, applied unguent to them and to his knees, studiously ignoring the obvious erection he got during her ministrations which reared up beneath his robe. She was a Healer; she knew quite well that the presence of a woman could do that to a man, irrespective of his being touched, and Severus Snape had not known anyone's touch in years.

He had also not known sun or fresh air, and despite his obvious state of generally good health, she made him take a Confinement Replenishment Potion to ensure he did not develop any problems from their lack. He told her, and she privately believed him, that he felt the food he'd been sent had been spelled to provide him basic nutrition. Still, the last few years he had admitted to being fed less than what was normal, so she would watch his intake to be sure he got enough.

This done, she urged him to sleep, but he refused, arguing that he needed to find out who had imprisoned him and why. He was insistent.

A bit more questioning led her to suggest following the morning owl. It always came on the weekend, he had stated, and Hermione was sure it would discover him missing and go back to report to whoever had sent it.

Snape finally agreed, and she cast a light Calming Spell on him, which made him curl up and sleep as she'd suggested, lying on Hagrid's immense bed. Hermione remained at the table, troubled, and finally sent a silent Patronus to Harry.

She told him everything she knew, including her own instincts that told her Snape was in earnest and meant her no harm, in fact, meant no harm to anyone aside from his captor. She told him their plans and conveyed she was safe, and the condition Snape had been in.

She knew he was on assignment at the moment, so did not expect an answering message, but she just needed to let him know what was happening if the events of the morrow took longer than anticipated.

She wondered now who had kept Snape captive for so long. His general condition attested to the truth of his story, but it seemed so fantastic.

She set an alarm to wake her if Snape stirred or anyone approached the cabin, or barring that, an hour before day break, and Transfigured her chair into a lounge, waving her wand to stoke the fire in the fireplace before shutting her eyes.

* * * *

The moans roused her in the middle of the night, and she went to the bedside to find Snape trembling, shifting his hips, and her face grew hot as she realized he was having a sex dream.

She turned to make her way back to the lounge when he suddenly cried out, eyes opening as his hips jerked up and a damp spot spread on his robes.

He trembled and fought for breath, then jumped slightly as he noticed her. She shook her head to stop him from saying anything and, without saying a word, waved her wand to remove all signs of his wet dream. Then she put her wand away and moved silently back to her lounge, settling back and closing her eyes.

It was a long time later before Severus was able to sleep. Hermione's nonjudgmental attitude and brisk, but gentle nurturing reminded him of Poppy Pomfrey, another witch who had seen him at his worst, in humiliating circumstances, and yet treated him kindly.

It gave him much to think about, but when he finally did get back to sleep, his dreams were of a soft summer day, blue skies, white clouds and a breeze that seemed scented with mint and eucalyptus.

* * * *

As they ate their elf-provided eggs and sausage well before sunup, a silvery stag galloped into the room and swirled to Hermione, who smiled, extending her hand.

Prongs bent his head and gently touched her hand with his antlers.

Harry, she sensed, understood. He had trusted her judgment since their earliest days, even in something so questionable as this, but conveyed his concern for her nonetheless. The stag began to fade as she heard him ask her to send a Patronus after they found out anything new. He would come as soon as he was able to assist.

"I see the triumvirate still exists," Snape said dryly.

She frowned at this, and then shook her head. "Not really. Harry and I are good friends, as are Ron and Harry."

He considered this. "I heard a news report a few years ago that indicated you were considering marrying one of the Weasley boys. Was it conjecture?"

She nodded. "Ron had it in mind we would marry as soon as the war was over, then again when I completed my first apprenticeship. I was not so minded."

"I see."

"I wanted to continue my education. He did not see how that could not include him as my husband. It's an old argument."

"One I take it you won?"

"Well, not without acrimony. He was not pleased when I decided to continue my studies after my first apprenticeship."

"Were I him, I'd be pleased at your personal fulfillment."

"Yes, well, to a man like Ronald Weasley, my personal fulfillment should lie in being married to him, having his children and making a cozy household whilst he works. Some Muggles have this attitude, too. It's a holdover from the Victorian age. I refuse to let my mind go soft for any man. I also refuse to not attend to any studies I so choose just because someone else finds them inconvenient."

He nodded at her, privately pleased. He wasn't sure what to make of the sense of personal pride he felt in her. She was young enough to be a daughter...what did such a thing say about him?

He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable.

"What does Potter have to say?"

She smiled, wondering if she should confess.

"Actually, he sends you his best. He hopes to see you later in the day if it's at all possible. For now, he tells us to be careful."

Snape stilled, and then glared at her, before setting down his toast and sighing.

"You told him."

"I trust him. You should, too. He knows what he saw. He also knows that things haven't added up since we both stepped out of that room and left you with Alastor."

He considered this, uneasy.

"Severus," she startled him, squeezing his hand briefly. "Let's finish eating and then we'll go see who's doing this. It's liable to be a long day."

* * * *

In the end, he'd been too nervous to eat any more, and Hermione had finally resized an old pair of enormous boots they had found by the bed for him before heading out to the tomb.

Severus was unaccountably nervous as they waited for the owl's appearance. What if it was too late? He had not had a window; he never knew the exact time. What if the owl didn't come? He was going by what "felt" right, and his decade of confinement, of following a known schedule, told him the owl would be coming. He wondered now how long it would take for him to break from the habits of that decade.

He nearly jumped when he felt the warm hand touch his shoulder, gentling him. He looked to the young woman by his side, whose large brown eyes expressed only care and concern, and looked away, feeling the unnerving urge to cry. He swallowed hard, swallowed down the feeling, much as he always did, and drew in a deep breath that was only slightly uneven.

"I've become unaccustomed to weather," he murmured, glad of an excuse for his trembling.

He felt the warming charm even as he saw the speck in the sky approaching. He straightened behind his tree, alerting her. Only a small part of him had not expected the owl. What was unexpected was Hermione's gasp on seeing it phase into the tomb.

"Nice bit of wand work," he agreed. "That was another reason I believed it was Malfoy. He is quite good with Charms."

"No, Severus," she breathed, eyes wide. She turned to him. "I know that owl. It's definitely not Malfoy's. It's Percy's owl, Hermes."

His face grew so pale, his eyes so wide at this, that she was afraid he'd pass out, but after a moment, his lips merely firmed, and before she could ask about his reaction, they both heard the flutter of wings.

Snape swore. He had no wand, and like a fool, he'd forgotten to ask.

Before he could say anything, though, Hermione's wand was out, and she Stupefy'd the owl as it lifted to the sky, falling not far in front of them. She then cast Incarcerous, trussing the bird up before carefully lifting it and gently placing it in a pocket of her carryall.

She met his startled gaze with her own determined one.

"We need to get to the bottom of this. This way, surprise is on our side. Come on. I know where to find him."

He had little choice but to allow her to take his arm, and for the first time in over a decade, Severus gasped as he felt the icy compression that was Apparation to him.

* * * *

The cottage was on the other side of the marshy lake of the Weasley's property, several acres from the Weasley Burrow. Hermione and Snape had Apparated to a copse of trees, hidden from view of the cottage.

"How do you know he's there?"

Hermione turned to the anxious, yet angry, Snape, and gently put a hand on his arm.

"Percy was demoted after the war due to inconsistencies in his testimony about his actions. The Ministry wasn't sure if they could trust him."

Severus's nostrils flared. "He worked for the Death Eaters."

Hermione nodded. "But he was never marked, so there was no proof."

Snape nodded and then asked, "Did he reconcile with his family?"

She shook her head. "Not really. He blamed his father for his fall within the Ministry. Molly he was less upset with; she sent him food, enough food for the whole family, he told us once. She never forgot to send him leftovers and sandwiches for his lunch."

Severus froze, remembering the sandwiches he'd eaten for years. "Of course. I should have recognized it."

"What?"

"The food. I should have recognized... M-Mrs. Weasley's hand in it," he managed to say past a tight throat.

Hermione nodded. "Molly swore she would never let any of her children go lean, and he needed the help."

She paused then, seeing the expression on his face and touched his shoulder. "What is it, Severus?"

He shook his head, a bit of colour returning to his pale cheeks. "N-nothing. So we were both eating thanks to Mo...Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione nodded. "It would seem so. He couldn't afford it on his own. He was pushed from department to department within the Ministry into more and more menial and meaningless positions, each time taking a cut in pay. He finally lost his job a few years ago. Since he's good with numbers, the twins sent him a few of their friends his way to do their accounts. That kept him from total bankruptcy."

She sighed, and realizing she still had her hand on his arm, she pulled it back and into the pocket of her robe.

"Molly and Arthur couldn't bear to think of him living in one of those shabby bedsits off Knockturn Alley, so they renovated this cottage. It's been here for years. It belonged to one of Arthur's maiden aunts until she passed. They gifted the cottage and a few acres to Percy. Frankly," she admitted now, "I haven't seen or spoken to him since one Christmas about five years ago."

Snape nodded, seemed as if he was shouldering a burden, but he straightened and looked to her.

"Well, it's past time then," he murmured, beginning to move toward the cottage, Hermione fast on his heels.

To his credit, Percy froze only momentarily when he opened the door to their knock. His closed expression did not change one iota, although he did not bother to deny his actions.

"I wondered why Hermes hadn't returned," was all he said.

Hermione kept her wand out.

"Percy. We need to speak."

The tall, thin young man looked to her, then to Snape. The young man, Severus noted, was the same height as him. Percy managed to look bored.

"Fine."

They stepped in, edging past him and Hermione ignored the room to ask, "Why, Percy? Why have you done this?"

Percy's lip twisted into an impressive scowl, glaring now at Snape. "He was going to get away scot-free with his crimes. I couldn't allow that to happen."

Hermione frowned and gestured with her wand, keeping him in her sights.

"Who appointed you High Inquisitor? We have laws."

"You have bribery and corruption," Percy snarled. "Look at Lucius Malfoy. Are you going to tell me you believe his tale of woe and redemption?"

She hesitated, conceding the point, and Snape finally spoke.

"So you wanted me punished? Why? I never truly worked for Him. You, of all people, should know this. So why?"

Percy stood taller then, a haughty look on his face. "My Lord's last thoughts to me were to make sure you were punished for your treachery... and I'm still proud to do his work."

Hermione gasped, paling. Snape merely pursed his lips, a look of disquiet on his face.

"Fitting, don't you think? To jail you in the tomb of your former master? Since you so loved him that you betrayed your true master in his name, I thought it apropos you should rot with the Muggle-loving fool."

"Percy," Hermione breathed, disbelieving.

He ignored her.

"He loved you," Percy told him now, speaking only to Snape. "And you betrayed him."

"He was a blight on our world," Snape said repressively.

"He was our Lord!" Percy snapped, dark eyes flashing. "After Dumbledore's death, you could do no wrong, you were his golden boy. But I had my suspicions and I started gathering evidence. My suspicions amused him, but I hoped one day I would gather enough information so he would give me my marking assignment."

Hermione frowned. "Marking assignment?"

Snape answered her. "When Voldemort felt an initiate was ready to join the Death Eaters, he would assign them a task that, if successfully completed, would garner his favour and only then would he brand them with the Dark Mark."

"Yes, to join the faithful, my true brothers. But you got in my way. Always making me look foolish, mocking my efforts before the others." Percy paused, and then snapped out, "You made my life there as bad as life at home!"

Snape said nothing and Percy went on. "You didn't even know how disgusted you made me feel when you pretended to care, trying to talk to me, telling me how much my family must miss me and how, perhaps, I should go back to them."

Severus swallowed. "It wasn't pretense, Percy."

"Shut it! I knew what you were up to. I knew! You changed tactics, didn't you? Just like a snake, twisting this way and that. You told me I should go back and get in their good graces. Since you couldn't get rid of me, you were trying to groom me as a supposed spy for the Dark Lord."

"I didn't want you tainted by association, boy! Look what's happened to you since his death!"

Percy shrugged this off. "I didn't trust you, Severus Snape. I never trusted you."

He said nothing, and Hermione swallowed, hoping the situation wouldn't devolve any further. Percy had no wand she could see, but she wondered now if he even needed one. Despite his thin frame and drawn appearance, they could feel the dark power radiating from him.

"Nor did my old friend, Scabbers."

Severus frowned and Hermione quickly murmured, "Percy's rat for years, who was actually Peter Pettigrew."

"Yes. You and the Dark Lord called him Wormtail. Not very nice. But Scabbers... Peter... was my friend and loyal to the Dark Lord."

"He was only ever loyal to himself," Snape rasped. Percy ignored him.

"I trusted him and he never lied to me. He gave me information...where you lived, what you did. I learned enough that I felt certain to gain the Dark Lord's favour."

"So why didn't you then?" Hermione suddenly demanded, hoping to change the atmosphere in the room between the two men. "Why didn't you just join Voldemo..."

"Don't say his name!" Percy screamed, nearly in her face.

"...rt and be done with it?"

Snape moved between them, pushing Hermione behind him and, to her shock, placing long fingers on her wand as he did. Silvery mist shot from it and flew under the door.

Through the window, Hermione was shocked to see the fading shape of a wispy mongoose running past.

Percy snarled, pushed beyond endurance, and he grappled now with Snape, knocking Hermione aside and causing her wand to fly from her hand and skitter across the floor.

They were of a height, and both thin, but Severus had been imprisoned for a decade in a cold tomb and Percy was young and healthy. Despite a valiant struggle, all too soon Snape was pressed to the floor, Weasley's forearm to his throat, a dagger to his heaving chest. Hermione, Snape noted with a quick glance, was gone. He hoped she had fled the cottage or Apparated out in the commotion.

"You ruined everything," Percy breathed.

He glared at Snape as they both struggled to catch breath. The dagger poked Snape with each breath, and he fought, unsuccessfully, to keep from inflating his lungs quite so much. He thought he heard a soft sound from behind them, but Percy did not seem to notice. Indeed, he was scowling now, a triumphant expression on his face.

"You deserved to rot in a cell! And now you deserve to die."

Snape swallowed tightly against that wiry forearm. "So you would kill your father then?"

Percy frowned, then scowled. "I could care less what he thinks or how he feels. My stupid Muggle-loving father never gave me much attention or anything else I needed."

"That's not true."

Both men stiffened, then looked to the entryway to the kitchen where Hermione and Molly stood behind Arthur Weasley. The man stood, wand at his side, not held out, as he took in the tableau before him.

Molly whispered, sotto voce, to Hermione, "We got Severus's Patronus. That was rather startling, but..."

"The hell it's not true," Percy sneered now, interrupting her.

"Oh, Percy..." Molly spoke tearfully. "Oh, it is. Your... father... he protected you as much as he could. He kept you from darkening your soul any further, kept you from doing horrible things in the name of evil."

Percy looked askance at her and then gestured with his chin to Arthur. "When did he ever do that?"

Arthur sighed sadly. "You're right. I never did. But Severus Snape did... and he's your father."

* * * *

Snape burned with shame as Molly and Arthur spoke to Percy. He would not, could not, meet the intensely curious gaze of Hermione now as his most secret shame was revealed.

"He raped you?!"

Severus finally spoke. He trembled beneath his son.

"It was one of my marking assignments. I was a half-blood, so the Dark Lord wanted to be sure I was not sympathetic to the side of light, that I could truly be a Death Eater. I was to go to Dumbledore and join the order... that was my first assignment, in order to spy for him. I did this. But it wasn't enough, and he felt he couldn't be sure of my loyalties, so... he ordered me to... rape one of my newfound colleagues."

A sob sounded from the corner, but Snape refused to look to see if it was Molly or Hermione.

"I was to wear my Death Eater garb and do this thing and return so the Dark Lord could view my thoughts. He wanted to see if I felt hatred and contempt or lust and satisfaction like a true Death Eater, or whether I felt guilt and compassion. I had to do this in order to gain entrance."

Percy's voice dripped with contempt. "Obviously, you didn't have any difficulty with your assignment."

Snape winced.

"I told Albus. He was troubled, but... he called select women of the Order to his office."

Molly suddenly spoke. "Dumbledore explained what was at stake, Percy. We all knew. We all drew straws. Minerva, Alice Longbottom, Emmeline Vance, and Lily Potter."

"And you."

She nodded at Percy. "Yes. And me. Whichever of us was drawn... we would tell our man."

"I was fully aware of and accepted the decision," Arthur told them now, with surprising aplomb.

"This is preposterous!" Percy was aghast.

"It was war," Arthur corrected. "And people were being murdered, children were tortured and maimed. That was worse than preposterous. And, the ladies present will pardon my language, but if allowing my own self to be buggered in the middle of Diagon Alley would have helped to stop that madman, then I'd have done it."

"Arthur," Molly soothed, gently touching her husband's shoulder. "Anyway, I was chosen."

Percy and Hermione stood, stock-still and shocked at these revelations. Hermione was remembering what Percy had said of Snape, of how he had treated him when he was amidst the Death Eaters. Severus must have been horrified at Percy's presence.

The look of shock on Severus's face outside the cabin earlier came to mind now, as well. The food... Hermione remembered something Ron had off-handedly said to Harry and her one time at Grimmauld Place. That Snape never ate with the rest of the Order. Having to be in Molly's presence, to accept her kindness, must have been agony to him. And she never indicated anything but respect toward Severus. She recalled now how Molly always corrected both Ron and Harry by insisting they use Snape's full title when they spoke of him.

"So he raped you." Percy's statement, said in a tone of disgust, got Hermione's distracted attention. She gasped as the dagger in his hand edged a bit further and Severus jerked as the point poked his chest.

"Yes. And no. It wasn't exactly pleasant," Molly conceded. "But it was necessary, and I agreed to it. So it wasn't coerced. Since it was near the holidays, it was decided I would be... taken, whilst doing Christmas shopping. Arthur took Charlie and Bill with him to work that day, to show them his office, and I went to Diagon Alley alone."

Percy swallowed, glanced down at Snape in disgust. "How could you?"

Snape swallowed.

"Albus... Albus helped me. I didn't want to, but he said everything was in place. He gave me a Mood Modification Potion, a lust philtre... then he Obliviated me. I woke and he was asking me to go, some fake errand to Diagon, to a specific shoppe, and that I should report to the Dark Lord to see if I could get more information. My thoughts were muddled. I didn't even notice I was wearing my Death Eater robes until later. By the time I got there, when I saw your mother... the philtre was at full effect."

His face twitched and his voice dropped to a whisper. He wasn't sure he could take enough breath in to speak louder anyway, thanks to the pressure Percy was placing on his chest and neck.

"I barely remember what happened. It was like a dark dream. I... I went back to Him, like Albus suggested. He... he liked what he saw. I was marked and accepted. It wasn't until well after that Albus showed me what he'd done in a Pensieve, but by then, it no longer mattered. I was a Death Eater, just like he needed."

Molly's voice startled them both.

"The only problem was... I was very fertile and due to the circumstances, no protections could be used. You were born the next summer."

"Percy." Everyone jumped at the sound of Arthur's calm, if slightly emotion-roughened voice. "Please release Severus."

Percy hesitated and Molly continued speaking.

"We never questioned it, son. And Arthur accepted you as one of his own. Never once did he treat you differently, although you weren't like the other boys."

"No indeed," Arthur agreed now, almost amiably. "You were definitely rather odd...quirky, skinny, bookish, strangely conservative, but I accepted you as my son ... until you started spouting nonsense your fifth year, and even then, I never stopped loving you, Percy. I never have. You are my son, regardless of blood."

"But you knew!" This directed at Snape who winced and nodded as much as he was able under the pressure from that wiry arm.

"I knew."

"We told him, son," Molly said now, taking a step forward. "He was the reason your astigmatism wasn't overlooked early on."

"It runs in the family," Snape hissed now, finding it exceedingly difficult to breathe. "Most of my uncles had it."

"Didn't you ever think to wonder why you're the only Weasley that needed spectacles?" Arthur asked him.

"This can't be true." Percy looked desperate.

Hermione finally moved, casting a verbal Paternus charm, which shot shimmering violet energy from Percy down to Snape. The results were irrefutable.

Abruptly, Percy pushed back from Snape, who gasped loudly, grasping at his chest as his son stood free, pulling his wand out of a pocket, looking stunned and confused.

Arthur and Molly tried to approach him, but he pulled back and glared at Snape, who still glowed faintly violet.

He looked at his mother, and then scowling, he lifted his wand. Hermione hesitated, not wanting to Stupefy him unless she absolutely had to. Arthur also waited, wand still at his side, hand clenched tight around it.

Percy looked one more time at Snape, who appeared to be catching his breath. He sneered, face full of a seething hatred.

"Avada Kedavra," he said in a clipped, almost indifferent tone of voice, as if he was saying nothing more important than telling someone the time.

Molly screamed and Arthur and Hermione both raised their wands, but it was too late.

Percy lay on the floor, dead by his own hand.

Arthur held Molly, who was sobbing into his shoulder, as Hermione rushed to Snape, who was holding his hand to his chest, looking ashen.

Suddenly she realized that, in pushing off of him, Percy had stabbed Snape with his dagger.

"Severus!" She reached him and ripped open his robe to assess the thin, seemingly superficial wound that dripped blood to the left of his chest.

"I can't say I blame him," he wheezed, before losing consciousness.

* * * *

When he came back to himself, it was dark, and he was in a large, but familiar bed.

He was in a plain, white nightgown, and Hermione was sipping tea and reading at Hagrid's table. He cleared his throat, a touch embarrassed.

She went to his side immediately.

"How do you feel?"

He grimaced. "I need the loo."

She helped him sit up. "You'll be a bit stiff and sore for awhile. The knife nicked a lung, but missed your heart."

He grunted. "Some would say I don't have one."

He shook her hands off as he got to his feet and made his way to the back of the hut where a rough wooden door concealed a privy so large he had to clamber onto a small stool in order to use it.

When he returned to the main room, Hermione had a plate of food and a cup of tea waiting for him. He climbed back into bed, already exhausted, but nodding his thanks, and began to eat; it had been a long time since his last meal and much had happened in the intervening time.

"You're wrong, you know," she said, after he had tucked in and had a few mouthfuls of stew. "There are some who think you have a rather large heart, indeed."

He glanced at her, then kept eating, saying nothing. The silence, though, eventually got to him.

"Why are we here?"

She smiled.

"I thought you'd prefer it to Hogwarts infirmary... and your many ex-colleagues who have been wanting to drop by to visit. You've been greatly missed, Severus."

Snape paled.

"Well considered."

"The cabin's not in use, and frankly," she admitted now, "when I Apparated with you, I completely forgot one can't simply Apparate to Hogwarts. I was trying for the infirmary and ended up not far from Hagrid's hut. So I brought you here and got the elves to get what I needed for your surgery. Not my finest hour, I admit, but... I was worried about you at the time."

He swallowed, and then felt the bandage on his chest.

"You'll have another scar to add to your collection," she noted. "But you'll be just fine in a day or two."

He blushed slightly at the thought of her seeing his scars, but said nothing.

"I think the fresh air and sunshine will do you good here whilst you recover. So consider it what the Healer ordered."

"Thank you, Miss Granger."

"No need. And call me Hermione. You're not my teacher, and I'm afraid I simply don't see you as anything but a trusted colleague anymore."

He snorted.

"If anything, after the revelations of the last two days, you should trust me less, if at all."

"Harry went into Albus's tomb."

He stilled.

"What he found, combined with my own retelling of events, led to Kingsley agreeing to a Pensieve search of his memories of the time just after you were first arrested."

He nodded, suddenly afraid to speak or even breathe.

"Percy Imperio'd both him and Moody before they even entered that room. Percy had been at Voldemort's side during the Final Battle, but cloaked, and he was a worker at the Ministry, so no one questioned his presence when he showed up there."

Snape's eyes closed at the thought of Percy, his son, holding him in such contempt. He drew in a shivery breath and forced it out. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to give in to them.

"Yes, well," he finally managed to say. "Another ignominious chapter closed in the life of Severus Snape."

Hermione looked troubled.

"You succeeded in your goal."

He looked at her.

She tried to smile, but finally just said quietly, "You kept your son from being marked. You kept him from Voldemort as much as it was possible to do. He was never branded a Death Eater."

The tears abruptly returned, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to blink. His voice was thick and tight.

"No. He just hated me. And he didn't even know I was his father."

Hermione shook her head and finally got up and, without preamble, slipped her arms around him.

Perhaps, he thought, it was his enforced confinement. Or perhaps it was his physical weakness after surgery.

Whatever the reason, he could not gainsay her, and when her hands gently stroked his hair and back, he let the tears finally fall.

It was much later when there was a knock at the door.

Severus had been dozing and Hermione reading by his bedside.

Molly and Arthur stood in the doorway. Severus felt a touch of shame at their presence, more so because he was in a nightgown and in bed.

"Don't be troubled, Severus. We just wanted to see how you were doing."

He cleared his throat.

"My Healer assures me I'll be fine in a day or two." He looked to Hermione who had busied herself with making tea.

Molly beamed. "I'm so glad! We... well, we were worried about you."

Arthur nodded. Snape swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.

"Mrs... Molly. I... I'm sorry for your loss," he managed to say.

She let Arthur's hand go, tears in her eyes, to go to Severus and gently cradle his head to her bosom.

"I know, dear. I know. And I'm so, so, sorry for yours."

Arthur turned from the tableau to go help Hermione in the kitchen, allowing them some privacy.

"I... I never said before," Severus whispered thickly, burning with shame anew. "I could never say before... how very sorry I was... what I did..."

"You did what you had to. As did we all. No more need be said."

"Sins of the father," he muttered. "It all came out in the end."

She smiled at him, then, warm hands soothing away the lines of strain on his face, a kindness that nearly undid him.

"No, Severus. If there were any sins, they were Percy's and Percy's alone. You didn't recruit him to You Know Who. You did everything you could to turn him from the path he was on. You didn't even know it was him keeping you prisoner, and once you found out, you didn't seek revenge, just answers. You've nothing to be ashamed of."

Severus swallowed. "He... Percy was a fine boy. I just wish things had been different."

"So do we. But I think You Know Who is to blame for it all. After all, who knows what might have become of our boy if he hadn't shared room and secrets with that rat of His. He found it, you know. We never got him a rat; we could ill afford it at the time since the twins were either growing out of their togs or breaking things that needed replacement. He found Wormtail in the garden, or so he claimed. We'll never know. But that rat spent twelve years with our family. I'm quite positive it was Wormtail who poisoned Percy, probably whilst he slept, feeding him on lies of You Know Who. You had nothing to do with it."

"It is said," Snape said carefully, "that blood will tell."

"In this case, all it told was that his mother and father loved him. Both as best they could."

He accepted her renewed embrace; feeling oddly light, empty, yet not used up, like a cup needing refilling.

"How about some tea then?"

Hermione's bright voice made them both separate, and Molly beamed at her.

"Thank you, dear! I'm sure a bracing cup of tea would do us all good."

* * * *

This visit aside, it made the next one far, far easier, and Snape didn't even have the strength to scowl when Harry Potter visited them.

The Boy Who Lived no longer looked like James Potter, Severus noted.

He was, in fact, far older than his father had ever become. His hair was cropped close to the skull, his sturdy, compact body toughened by hard work, and his face was now all planes and angles, those green eyes still shining bright beneath the long-faded scar. He had two others now that drew attention from the old hated mark, signs of hexing he had taken in the course of his work as an Auror. He also had a slightly crooked nose now, something that made Snape nearly smile.

"You look well, Snape."

"One could say the same back."

"Yes, well, I wasn't a dead man." He smiled to take any sting out of his words, and he included Hermione in it. "Thanks to Veritaserum testimony by Arthur and Molly at the Ministry, along with Hermione's corroboration of your tale and the full presentation of evidence, you've been cleared of all wrongdoing."

"Evidence?"

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore's tomb... I went in with Ron, who recorded our findings. The furnishings were all old items the Weasleys had thrown away or set aside. And there were hundreds of small notes in the anteroom! All the same. S. Snape held prisoner by L. Malfoy. Hidden, possibly a sepulcher. Please find me. They were all dated, going back about eight years. There were also newspapers inside dating back ten years to the date you disappeared."

Snape cleared his throat.

"With my limited knowledge, Lucius Malfoy was the most likely suspect."

Harry nodded at this, and Snape added, "I would be most grateful if the content of the notes was not divulged to either Lucius or the press."

"They've already been disposed of. There was no point to questioning Malfoy, since, for one thing, we know who took you, and for another, he's not even in the country at the moment. He's enjoying his honeymoon with Mrs. Malfoy Number Three."

Snape lifted a brow at this, and Harry and Hermione both smiled.

"He married Lavender Brown two days ago."

Snape considered this, and then fought a groan.

"Sounds like a marriage made in proverbial heaven."

"Anyway, we didn't contact him, nor do we have plans to. Although," Harry confided now, "I know he'd love to hear from you. He was all broken up about your supposed death before."

Snape nodded, then Harry lifted both brows, sticking his hand in his pockets.

"Nearly forgot! The Weasleys asked me to give you this."

He held out a key on a key ring.

"Arthur said to tell you he found letters in the cottage, dating way back. It's pretty clear that Percy never stopped communicating with Pettigrew, even now that he's in Azkaban. Sent him things...care packages and the like. Anyway," Harry wrinkled his nose a bit, "he said to tell you that you weren't at all to blame."

Snape stared at the key.

"What is that?"

"A Portkey. It activates when you twist it like putting the key in a lock. It takes you straight to the cottage." Harry hesitated and then said quietly, "Molly and Arthur both agreed... since the Ministry sold your house and effects when it was thought you were a dead fugitive from justice, and since your so...since Percy lived there, that the cottage is yours. No arguments. Arthur said that. He also said, that if you don't take it, he'll let slip your little secret to the Quibbler."

Snape closed his eyes, suppressing a shudder.

"You know, then."

He jumped at the feeling of Harry's warm, firm hand squeezing his forearm. He looked from it to those green eyes, warm with unexpected understanding and compassion.

"One thing you'll need to understand, if you're going to be friends with Hermione, is that we don't keep secrets from each other. And that we keep each other's secrets from everyone else." He leveled a look at his erstwhile teacher and colleague in the Order and nodded. "Your secret is safe with me."

Severus finally nodded, then Harry quirked a smile at him.

"By the way, that wasn't quite how Arthur put it. He said, and I quote: if he refuses, tell him I'll tell his secret to the Quibbler, as well as tell them he wears a pink bathrobe and bunny slippers when he's alone."

"I do not!"

"Yes, well, you know that and I know that and Hermione and Arthur and Molly know that, but who else would believe it?" Harry asked him pointedly.

* * * *

Two days later, Hermione went with a fully recovered Snape to the cottage. She Apparated them both to the same spot as before, Severus feeling chary of using the Portkey to appear directly inside.

It scarcely looked the same, if only by virtue of having been painted an interesting shade of jade green.

Arthur met them by the door, which he was finishing painting a creamy white, a pleasant contrast to the rest of the house.

"Well, hello there! I'm sorry for having cleaned the place out, but the Aurors traipsed through it like a pack of Hippogriffs, and I couldn't abide keeping anything they'd pawed through. They scuffed everything so much; I felt I had to paint it. Anyway... it's yours now," he clapped a friendly hand to Severus's arm. "As is our eternal friendship. Welcome home, Severus."

Snape nodded, uneasy, but meeting the older man's gaze. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. But you will come to dinner from time to time, I hope? I know you've kept yourself to yourself in the past, but... well, things are different now, are they not?"

Snape nodded again, fighting the embarrassing urge to break down, and held out his hand to Arthur instead. Arthur ignored his hand and pulled him in to a brief, but tight embrace, slapping at his back in a comradely fashion. Then he turned and hugged Hermione briefly in combined greeting and farewell.

"Well, I'll be off then."

They found themselves alone, and Hermione decided to break the uncertain silence.

"Let's go in, shall we?"

Severus nodded, uncertain what to expect, but the interior was utterly different. The prior furnishings were gone. There was sturdy wooden furniture with a faded black and green tartan predominating the cushions and seat covers. A familiar brown hook rug lay before the fire, which was currently banked.

Two walls were dedicated entirely to bookcases, and to his shock, most of the shelves were full.

"There are more bookcases in the study," Hermione noted. "As well as one in the bedroom, but those are empty."

"These... these are my books!"

"Yes. When you left Hogwarts rather precipitously, Minerva didn't have the heart to simply sell or throw out your belongings. Everything in your rooms that did not belong to Hogwarts is here."

His eyes filled again, but this time Hermione did not let him turn away. She slid an arm around him, and he leaned into her, burying his face briefly, into her warm hair.

The scent of mint and eucalyptus filled his senses, and he felt himself grow hard. He gently pulled back.

"I'm... a bit overwhelmed," he admitted.

"Not surprising. You're going to have to get used to the fact that you are free, and that you are wanted. Not as a fugitive, but as yourself."

He looked pained.

"I'm not very good company, I'm afraid."

She smiled.

"None of us is when we're in pain or distracted or busy. Tell me... were you ever not any of those things whilst you were in the Order?"

He shook his head.

"Teaching?"

He shook his head again.

"These last few days?"

He sighed and his lips quirked.

"It would seem I've had a bad couple of ... decades."

"Indeed."

* * * *

They found a dinner, enough for at least four, warm atop the kitchen counter, and Hermione set the table whilst Severus sought and found wine in the small cellar.

He was no longer used to it, after years of drinking nothing but water, and he found the two glasses he had with dinner went to his head.

He found himself watching Hermione as she ate and chatted. She was really, he thought now, quite a beautiful woman.

She looked up at him, and he quickly looked down to his plate. What was wrong with him? She was half his age!

But he could not help it, and by the time they finished their pudding, a deliciously dark treacle tart, he was hard as a stone and deeply uncomfortable.

"Sickle for your thoughts."

He startled, then sighed.

"It's been so long. I... I still feel like I'll wake up and find myself... there. Again. Alone."

She suddenly reached across and squeezed his hand, hard.

"You're not asleep. You're not alone. You're here. With me."

He looked at her now, and all his feelings burned in his gaze. How he wanted her. His trousers were becoming a torment.

"Well..."

She got up then, and he watched as she moved toward him. To his shock, she bent over his chair and gently kissed him.

He tried to push her back, but she didn't let him, kissing him again, and before long he stood, chair crashing to the floor as he took her in his arms...

Some time later, atop the surprisingly large and comfortable bed in the equally comfortable bedroom, Severus shifted uneasily above Hermione, his loose, long, and silky hair sensuously slipping along their skin, the only thing covering their bodies.

He could not have said if his unease was due to what was about to happen or the fact he wasn't entirely certain his body would finish before he could even begin. He had only just managed to get them both undressed without catastrophe, but now, his body was throbbing, longing for release.

"I-is this what you really want?"

Hermione stroked his face, nodding. He tried again.

"I haven't been with anyone longer than I can remember, Hermione. I... I'm not sure I can recall, much less manage, the niceties."

She smiled at him, reaching down to stroke him and place him near her entrance.

"I'm ready," was all she said.

He lost his head; it was the only explanation he could think of. One moment he was kissing her, then he could feel her warmth surrounding him and he was inside her, and it was... intense, if brief, not to mention quite shattering to each of them.

His head was still spinning when she shifted out from under him and refreshed them both with her wand.

"I'm s-sorry. It's... been a long time," he stammered, body still twitching a bit from his powerful orgasm.

She shook her head at him, shushed him with a finger, then she climbed over him, straddling him to kiss him.

Slowly... ever so deliciously and agonizingly slowly... Hermione Granger made love to Severus Snape. Her feelings showed in every action, every caress, every whisper of his name from those lips that seemingly kissed every inch of him as if it was precious to her.

He could scarcely believe it, the fact she was so calmly accepting of him, of his body, of his feelings. This thought made him nearly lose control again, and he held her tightly to him, able to finally indulge his fantasies and kiss and caress her. She accepted everything he gave and offered her own back.

It was, he realized now, the answer. What he had been searching for all along, at Hogwarts, then among the Death Eaters, and he had finally found it.

Acceptance.

* * * *

The next day...

Peter Pettigrew thanked his jailer obsequiously as he got his package. He'd been getting a bit worried, as Percy hadn't written him of any delays and his usual package was a bit late. Still, sometimes the Ministry got particularly officious, and the Warden had to crack down on someone and that usually meant the prisoners, like him. Sometimes their mail was put on hold and all packages were inspected.

He forgot the entire issue as he opened up the package and smiled when he saw the candy inside. He began to eat it with pleasure.

No one noticed the minuscule notice in the Daily Prophet the next day, buried as it was between an advert for Sleekeazy's Luscious Locks of Loveliness and a perfunctory notice of Dissolution for a couple of minor Ministry officials.

It read:

Prisoner and former Death Eater Peter Pettigrew was discovered dead of a heart attack in his cell this morning. The prison's Healer stated Pettigrew's general state of health had always been poor and that no signs of foul play were evident.

~ Finite Incantatum ~

post-A/N: With huge thanks to the Harry Potter Lexicon, and in particular to the entry therin on Percy Ignatius Weasley. :)

Also, thanks to CNN for their nice summary of astigmatism.

Lastly, yes, Snape's Patronus is an intentional tribute to Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. :) I'd often considered Rowling's comments about how revealing Snape's Patronus (before Book 7) would give too much away. Whilst I liked the idea of his Patronus being a phoenix or a lily or even a griffin or a lion (horrors!) ;), I also rather liked the idea of his having a fierce and wily snake hunter as his ethereal protector.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic. :)