14: The Funeral

Chapter 14: The Funeral

The next few days went by in a blur as everyone cried, talked, packed, cried some more, or just walked around the castle like zombies. Students were heading home left and right, and Hermione was starting to believe they really wouldn't open the school again the next year. At the current rate of attrition, there wouldn't be many left for the funeral. Well, that wasn't completely true, especially since Hogsmeade was filling up with witches and wizards who wanted to pay their last respects.

On the night before the funeral, Hermione was packing away the last of her things, envisioning what lay ahead for them all...but most especially for Harry. Somehow she doubted he would consider returning to school as important as hunting down the Horcruxes, and she couldn't blame him.

When there was a knock at her dorm door, Hermione called out, "Come in."

"Hey, I was wondering how your packing was coming along." Ginny's red mane of hair framed the face poking around the edge of the door.

"It's coming, but I could always use some companionship. Yours?"

"About done." She came in and sat on the edge of Hermione's bed, then slid herself up against the headboard. "I guess you're going home for the summer."

"At least for a while anyway. I haven't made any firm plans yet. My parents are frantic, of course. They must have owled me the moment the newspaper hit their table. I had to send an owl straight back to them yesterday to let them know I wasn't hurt and I would be home soon."

"Harry had to write the Dursleys to let them know he was coming home a bit earlier than expected. They probably went through the roof."

"Wish I could have seen it." Hermione's mouth twitched at the corners. She had heard enough about Harry's horrible relatives to have some idea of what their response might have been. "What about you? They going to let you take your O.W.L.s still?"

"Yeah. They'll set a date later this summer for the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T students to test. Tests seem a bit pointless at the moment."

"Yeah."

A long pause ensued before Ginny began to speak again, pulling her knees up to her chest. "He's going to dump me, you know. Harry. He loves me, but I can already feel him distancing himself from me. It's the strangest thing, it's as though I can feel his emotions lately, like we're so finely tuned to each other I can feel what he needs before he even knows it. Or at least without him saying so. And when I need a little more room, or a big hug, he seems to know that as well."

"That's because you're soul mates. You just needed a boost to know it." Hermione wondered if the red-head had figured it out yet. When Ginny gave her a funny look, Hermione realized it hadn't occurred to the younger girl. "Amoriata, chocolate chunk biscuits, your brothers. . . strange pairings in the school . . . "

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "They didn't. But it's exactly the kind of thing they would do. How did you figure it out? How did you know?"

"I did some research after our talk at dinner one day. I've learned more along the way: the emotion bond is one of the hallmarks. When you're kissing him and you're getting . . . excited..."

"It's like it starts to spiral out of control almost like we are feeding off each other. It can be hard to control sometimes." Ginny gave her a suspicious look. "How do you know so much? The twins didn't find this out, so it must have been rather obscure. How many hours did you dedicate to researching?"

Hermione evaded Ginny's gaze. "Not so long. My research skills are very good, you know. And your brothers..."

"Tend to act without doing all the research sometimes. Yeah, I know. But I think there's more."

"Harry won't be able to break things off with you completely. The potion, the enchantment, if you will, requires regular contact. He may try to separate himself from you, but if you don't at least pass letters, he'll be driven to come find you. And vice versa."

Ginny eyed her speculatively. "And who, exactly, is your soul mate? You've been very discreet."

Hermione bit her lip, then wet them as she tried to figure out what to say when the truth would never do. "Discretion, or rather, total secrecy, is still required." She looked Ginny in the eye. "I'd tell you if I could. I wish I could tell someone, but the time is utterly wrong."

"What, Draco Malfoy is it?" Ginny's tone was teasing.

"Eww, please, don't wish that prat on me."

Ginny smiled. "Fine, we all have our secrets. I can keep yours."

"I'd appreciate it. I'd rather not deal with questions from the boys when I can't tell them the answers."

"Then I'll expect a hand from you to nudge Harry back in my direction if he fights it too much."

"Done. I'd be happy to. Besides, he won't want to fight the enchantment when you've been apart for a few days. He'll start to pine." Hermione smiled at the thought, especially since Ginny had pined after Harry for so long. At least it would be mutual this time.

"And you? How will you keep in touch with your love?"

Hermione smiled secretively. "I'm of age and have a license to Apparate. I suppose we'll work something out."

Ginny left a few minutes later, and Hermione returned to her packing. Her mind returned to a conversation she'd had with the boys that afternoon where they talked about Severus, as the Half Blood Prince, anyway. Harry had collected the Potion book from the Room of Requirement that evening, and he, Ron and Hermione talked about the origin of the title. She couldn't forget the way Harry had described Severus. Murderer. Killer. Evil. She had denied the last. He wasn't evil. Traumatized, even deeply horrible...in his own words...but no, not even that. She couldn't believe it; there was too much good in him.

Certainly kindness wasn't overflowing. And he had more than his share of hate. Living with him in her head all this time had taught her that. But there were moments when she saw through all of that. She wondered if it was all real, or if he had played a role so long he was just confused about who he was, which parts of his personality were really him, and which he had cultivated in order to aid him in his duplicity. Then again, the very few memories of him that she had caught in their Occlumency sessions had shown even as a boy, he hadn't been happy and light. But then, he had grown up seeing his mother battered. And though she had never heard him say it, she wondered if he had shared his mother's punishments...all of those scars on his body couldn't have come from his adult years.

Murderer. Killer. Evil.

The words continued to circulate in her head.

*****

Hermione sat at the funeral, tears pouring down her face, more upset than she had been at her grandmother's funeral the summer before. Then again, Albus Dumbledore had always been a grandfatherly figure, and she had spent much more time with him over the past few years than she had her own family. Ron put an arm around her and pulled her close, and though she wished it was her husband's embrace, she welcomed the reassurance.

As she rested her head on Ron's shoulder, he tightened his arm around her, and she felt anger piercing through her. Severus's anger. She focused on him and realized he was here in the throng. Over the months she had practiced honing in on his presence, and now she could tell he wasn't far away, back behind and to the right. He was certainly not more than a hundred feet away. What was he doing here? Was he crazy?

Trying to look casual about it, Hermione lifted her head and turned a bit to look in the direction she knew Severus was. She scanned the faces but could not see him. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Fred and George sitting a couple rows back. They would pay for their tricks later, but this was not the time or place. She took a second look for Severus, then realized he wouldn't have come in his own body...not visibly anyway. It would be too dangerous.

Hermione returned her gaze to the front and, feeling her husband's jealousy, eased out of Ron's embrace. It didn't seem to matter to Severus that her feelings for Ron were strictly fraternal, so she decided to humor him. Finally, the funeral ended and she and Ron stayed in their seats to wait for the crowd to dissipate somewhat. She watched Harry and Ginny walk off and knew the talk Ginny was expecting was about the happen, so when Ron stood to follow, she held him back. As people milled about them, she turned her focus back on her husband, trying to sense his location in the crowd. She wondered if he were to walk past her, would she know it was him? If she had been alone she might have tried it just for fun.

After a few minutes she felt a hand brush her arm and a shiver went down her spine. She turned her head just in time to see a stooping man with graying hair walk past. So it was a disguise, and not invisibility that had rendered Severus able to attend. She wondered if it was a glamour or Polyjuice and made a mental note to ask him sometime.

When Hermione saw Harry and Ginny separate, she allowed Ron to walk her over in Harry's direction. They watched him hold a short, but unfriendly-looking conversation with Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, and then saw the minister stalk off. Ron kept up a steady stream of chatter as they passed not five feet from his brother Percy, not looking once in the prat's direction. Hermione had to admire his restraint.

When they caught up to Harry under the beech tree, the three of them abused the Minister and Percy for a moment. Hermione looked back at the castle, wistful, wondering what would happen next. "I can't bear the idea that we might never come back. How can Hogwarts close?"

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," Harry said.

Ron gaped, but Hermione understood. "I knew you were going to say that. But then, what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursley's once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to," said Harry, "but it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"

"I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow," Harry muttered. "For me it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves. I'd like that." He mentioned tracking down the Horcruxes and his fight against Voldemort. "And if I run into Severus Snape along the way, so much the better for me. So much the worse for him."

It pained Hermione to hear the words, but she couldn't argue over it. She still wasn't convinced Severus had any even moderately acceptable reasons for his actions. Besides, Harry's anger against her husband was so strong, he was past talking to anyway.

"We'll be there, Harry," said Ron.

"What?"

"At your aunt and uncle's house," said Ron. "And then we'll go with you wherever you're going."

"No..." Harry protested.

"You said to us once before," Hermione cut him off, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?" Ron hadn't discussed this with her first, but for once the two of them were in perfect accord.

"We're with you whatever happens," Ron said. "But mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

"Why?"

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to miss that."

Thoughts of Bill and Fleur's upcoming nuptials reminded Hermione of her own binding. No one could see her ring, she used only her maiden name, and rarely spent time with her husband. Yet they were bound no less than Bill and Fleur would soon be.

If only she felt a bit more married.

After a few more minutes of drowsing in the perfect weather, under the shade of their favorite tree, the three friends stood and walked back up to the castle. Without a word, they all turned toward the Headmistress's office when they entered the school and, using the password Dumbledore had last used, made their way upstairs.

The door stood open and Remus Lupin sat in a chair next to the window, looking out over the grounds.

"Remus, are you the Secret Keeper?" Harry asked, walking purposefully across the room.

The man turned his head and sent the three students a sad smile. "No, but I have a note for you." He handed over a scrawled message in a handwriting Hermione didn't recognize, but which was certainly not their old professor's. It read The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix is Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"So, who is it?" Hermione asked as she passed the note on to Ron.

Looking at Harry apologetically, Remus answered, "We're not telling anyone. The consensus is, that the fewer people who know who the Secret Keeper is, the fewer who can have the truth wrested from them. Only Professor McGonagall, myself, and the Secret Keeper know who it is."

"But it's my house," Harry objected.

"I know the house belongs to you Harry, and as such, if you insist, we will tell you. However, we would really rather not."

"He does have a point," Hermione said after considering for a moment. "If Mundungus doesn't know, he can't let it slip while drunk. Ditto for Hagrid. Everyone is safer this way. Voldemort can't learn something from you if you don't know it." Especially me and Severus. If Voldemort knows of our relationship on any level, it is safer for him if I don't know who the Secret Keeper is.

Harry seemed torn for a moment between wanting to insist, and his better instinct wanting to agree with the chosen course of action. Finally he nodded. "You're probably right. Speaking of Mundungus . . ."

"Yeah, we thought we might hold back for a little while before showing him the note. Impress upon him the fact that the things in the house do actually belong to you, and not to him."

Harry smiled. "And in the mean time maybe we can come up with a more permanent solution."

"I'll work on that," Hermione offered.

"Good. Now you all best go get your trunks and things. The train will be leaving the station soon. Unless you're going home with your parents, Ron."

"No, I'll take the train. We've things to discuss." His face was flat, hiding any plans he may have in mind. Hermione was impressed.

After saying goodbye to Remus, the three of them made their way back to Gryffindor common room. Before hurrying up the stairs as the boys had done, Hermione took a moment to walk through the room touching pieces of furniture where she had sat and talked with the boys, the chair she knitted hats in, the fireplace mantel. She felt overcome with emotion at the thought of leaving this place forever. Even if a miracle happened and Voldemort was killed before August 31, there was no assurance the school would reopen anyway. The years had been difficult, dangerous, crazy and wonderful all at once. Other students milled about her, saying goodbye and talking of the funeral, but she tuned them out with barely a smile or goodbye to those who caught her attention. She didn't belong here anymore.

Holding back a sob, she hurried up the stairs to her room to collect her things. When she opened the door, Lavender was packing the last of her own items and looked over her shoulder at Hermione.

"So it was Ron, wasn't it?" Lavender asked.

"What was Ron?" Hermione's thoughts had drifted far from their conversation of only a few days earlier.

"The one who gave you those love bites. You said you thought he was like a brother, but you're nothing more than a liar." There was definite venom in her words. "It's disgusting the way you were cuddling in public at the funeral. Dumbledore would have been horrified."

"Sod off, Lavender. It wasn't Ron. You're welcome to him if you can hold him. He was only offering me comfort, and I seriously doubt the Head...Dumbledore would have disapproved. After the appalling display the two of you put on in the common room night after night for all those months, I can't believe you have the gall to be shocked at a hug."

"It isn't Ron? So you have a one-nighter with some guy you don't even care about? If you were involved with someone, why wasn't he the one offering you comfort? You know what that makes you?" Lavender stood with a nightgown clasped in one hand, which was fisted at her hip.

"So glad I will never have to be your roommate again." Hermione was far too drained to fight anymore. "Have a nice life, Lav-Lav." She grasped her trunk and exited as quickly as possible. Lavender's frustrated scream followed her down the hall. "And good riddance."

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AN: Obviously a large portion of the talk after the funeral came from the end of HBP, only with my cuts and additions. From here on out we alter our route from JK's storyline drastically (as though this whole ship wasn't a drastic enough redirection of her vision already).

A big thanks to my new beta MaevePotter whose suggestions were very helpful. Hopefully her assistance will save the admins from cramping their fingers too seriously. Also, thanks to RobisonRocket for correcting this chapter.