Chapter 17: Reunions

Hermione giggled, her relief like a current of warm air. They were bantering, playing with one another...like friends. Like allies. Molly was smiling, and the fire was popping, and just for a moment, it felt as if everything might be all right after all.

They were back.

It would be Ron who came through the door first, Hermione thought, his hair as red as his face as he barrelled in from the dark outside. She'd barely had time to draw breath before he saw them and stopped cold...and even then, he was immobile only for an instant.

"What in the bloody hell is she doing here?" Ron bellowed, moving into the room with a speed usually reserved for playing Quidditch.

Molly leapt to her feet, a swirl of fierce protectiveness.

"I asked her here, Ron," she said. She set her jaw firmly. "In fact, all three of them are invited guests."

Ron looked startled; he hadn't noticed Neville and Severus there at all.

"Him," he said, fixing his gaze on Severus, his voice hard.

Hermione held her breath.

"Somebody had better tell me what the hell is going on," Ron growled, his eyes darting between her and Severus.

Hermione felt Severus shift as if to stand. She didn't know whether to encourage him or to try to keep him away from the storm of rage and pain that, in this case, had nothing to do with him. For as much as Ron's explosiveness was fuelled by Horcrux damage, his grudge was still with her.

"What are you bellowing about in there, you stupid git?" Ginny's voice interrupted, and Hermione flinched at the sneer that crossed the younger woman's face. "Ah, carry on, then," she said. "Finding vermin in the house demands its fair share of bellowing."

"Stop it this instant, young lady," Molly snapped. "You will not speak that way about guests in my house."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, and Hermione's stomach roiled at the look of pure venom Ginny shot at her mother. Into the poisonous silence, Arthur and Harry appeared, their own murmured conversation cut short at the sight of Molly standing toe to toe with two of her children. Ron still wore a scowl but took a step back at the sight of his father. For an instant Ginny might have looked hopeful before she, too, regained her footing.

Molly, her children forgotten for the moment, took a step closer to her husband. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like a voyeur as she watched the older witch reach a shaky hand towards Arthur. His eyes were glazed, and his gaze slipped past her; Molly's outstretched hand dropped to her side, restless as if searching for something to do...some way to soothe. She looked so weary, Hermione thought.

"Molly?" Arthur asked, looking everywhere but at his wife. He caught sight of Hermione and stiffened. "What's happening here?" He looked confused, Hermione thought. And beneath the irritability, afraid.

"Arthur, it's like I've been telling you. I knew she'd come back," Molly said.

"Why?" He turned to face his wife. "Why did you let her come here?"

Molly's face fell. Hermione saw her resignation and her exhaustion. They had, she realised, been over this topic before.

"We need her, Arthur," Molly said, but it sounded to Hermione like she was talking to herself. "We need them."

"Need whom? Molly?"

Severus stood before Hermione could stop him, and Arthur took a step back, startled.

"Ginny said she'd seen you, but I hardly believed it," he said, sounding focused for the first time since he'd arrived.

Ginny muttered something under her breath, and Arthur's eyes lost focus again.

"Mr Weasley... Arthur," Severus said. His voice was commanding, Hermione thought, and it seemed to pull Arthur from the haze that had swallowed him. The older man nodded and took a deep breath.

"Severus." He looked him in the eye and stood straighter. "Why are you here?" He glanced at Hermione and back again at Severus. "Why is she here?" His voice was angry, and Hermione's heart fell. She hadn't realised how much she'd hoped that time had softened his rage or that it might have simply dissipated like drops of water in the fog that engulfed him.

She must have moved or made a sound because Severus gestured for her to wait, and she did, no matter how much she wanted to pour out the story of the last week...seeking vindication, perhaps, for her prior efforts to convince them, efforts they'd roundly ignored. Instead, she stayed still, a glance at Neville helping her to feel less like a helpless bystander. He, too, had kept his peace, and she wondered what it was like for him to watch this drama unfold.

"We three are here," Severus began, his eyes resting on each of them in turn, "because we have all suffered a grievous injury, and we believe the only way to fix it is by working together."

"I'm fine," Harry interrupted. He moved to stand next to Ginny, his jaw set and his eyes flashing. "We're all fine. Hermione badgered us for years. Tried to convince us something else had gone wrong. Tried to tell us that it wasn't over yet...as if killing the great snake hadn't finished the job," he said. "I see she's taken you in, and you, Neville." He snorted. "If you ask me, it's all just an excuse for bad behaviour."

Hermione drew a sharp breath but kept silent. Years of arguments and efforts to persuade them with logic had got her nowhere. There was no reason to think tonight would be any different.

"Whose bad behaviour, Harry, yours?" Neville asked. Hermione looked up, surprised. He'd leapt to his feet, eyes flashing, but his voice was soft.

"You're one to talk, aren't you, Neville?" said Ron. "Hannah told us how you'd row, how many times you trashed the pub in a temper."

"True," Neville said. "Funny, isn't it, though, that none of us wondered how I'd suddenly developed a terrible temper?"

The room fell silent, and it felt to Hermione like a wire had been pulled taut between them, all of them holding their collective breaths to see when it would snap.

"None of you wondered?" Severus's words were like ice, Hermione thought, but his implicit support warmed her.

"We're not children anymore, Snape," Ginny snapped. "Quit condescending."

Severus turned to her and inclined his head in apology. "Mrs Potter, my intention was not to condescend, only to inquire."

Ginny huffed but otherwise remained silent. Severus held her gaze, respectful, waiting for her to continue, and it seemed to Hermione that the younger witch grew a touch less agitated.

"She..." Ginny glared at Hermione. "Hermione kept at us. Especially in the last year or two before she..." She clenched her jaw.

"Just say it, Ginny," Hermione said. "Before I lost it completely. Before I went off on Ron and put him through the plate glass window." She looked Ginny in the eye, but the other witch stared at her, cold eyes burrowing into her until she shuddered, looking disgusted, and turned to Severus.

"I supposed you're accustomed to consorting with thugs, aren't you Snape? You seemed right cosy with the Carrows. Birds of a feather, eh?" She sneered at Hermione.

Hermione's head began to pound. This had been a mistake, she thought. There was too much hatred here and not even an iota of trust. But Severus just stood, considering. Ginny seemed put off by his calm, and even a little bit afraid.

"It is the worst agony to know that you must act in a way you abhor, that you have no choice; even worse to find you've done something horrifying and to know that it's entirely outside of your control," Severus said softly.

Ginny swung around to look at him; the lines of her body were taut, muscles and ligaments poised to strike. But Severus held her gaze, his hands held out in front of him as if in supplication.

Ginny muttered something Hermione couldn't hear, but Severus just nodded.

"I am genuinely sorry for the pain I caused you whilst acting as headmaster, Mrs Potter," he said. "I've long regretted never having had the chance to say that to you. You were a worthy adversary."

Ginny's stance relaxed slightly, still wary, but calmer. She kept her eyes on Severus, the two of them taking one another's measure.

"You had choices." Her cheeks were flushed, and Hermione wondered if she appreciated the irony of her words after her actions in recent years.

"Very few that would have left you and your friends alive and intact," he said.

Ginny paused, and Hermione saw her grimace at the memory. "It was horrible," she said.

"It was," he agreed. "All the more since it was not by choice." Severus paused.

Ginny looked dazed, but nodded. Severus inclined his head, satisfied.

"What is it you're saying, then, Snape?" Harry asked. "You're implying there is something outside our control now?"

"Why are you even listening to that wanker?" Ron interrupted before Severus could respond. "When did he ever tell us the truth?"

"Now, Ron," Molly said, but he was on a roll.

"Don't 'Ron' me, Mother. I'll say it like it is. Ginny's right, we're not children...quit trying to shush me. He's a liar. He's always been a liar..."

"I was a spy, Mr Weasley," Severus interrupted. He stepped forward so that he was face to face with Ron. "Of all people, I would expect you to appreciate the subtlety required of a spy."

"Who, Ron?" Harry snickered. "Ron has all the subtlety of a bludger, Snape."

Ron looked torn, and Hermione almost felt sorry for him. Severus smiled, which only intensified Ron's confused expression.

Ignoring Harry, Severus continued. "Were the rumours incorrect, then?" he asked.

"Wh... which rumours do you mean?"

"That your success against McGonagall's giant chess set your first year was no fluke."

Ron blinked.

"That despite your abysmal performance in the classroom, you have the mind of a strategist."

He blinked again, but his eyes were clear.

"Well. I mean, yes. I play chess."

Severus nodded and swept his arm in a wide arc, encompassing the room and all its occupants.

"Your chessboard, Mr Weasley." Severus folded his arms and waited.

Hermione looked between the two men, astonished. In all her years with Ron, not once had her admonishments to use his skill or intelligence triggered anything more than defensiveness and arguments. But now, Ron had stopped shouting and was blinking rapidly whilst looking around the room at witches and wizards he'd known virtually all his life.

Neville had crouched near where Ginny sat on the floor, while Hermione stayed huddled on the couch. Harry kept throwing anxious glances towards his wife but didn't move. Arthur had drifted towards the hearth; Hermione wondered if he was drawn to the warmth of the fire or the lure of the Floo.

"It's all wrong," Ron muttered. "Nobody is where they're supposed to be."

"Indeed not. Say more, Mr Weasley," said Severus.

Ron looked at him sharply, but Severus just raised his eyebrow.

"I can't describe it. Don't know why I didn't see it," he said. His eyes roamed around the room, finally settling on his father. "Dad never let things get so out of hand... before..." His voice was small, and Hermione thought of the young boy who was always confident that his father could sort out any trouble.

"No, he didn't," whispered Ginny. "What happened to him?" She looked over at the hearth where Arthur stood, apparently oblivious to the conversation.

"Arthur?" Molly walked over to him and put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"I've failed them, haven't I?" he mumbled. "Molly, have I failed them after all?"

"No, Arthur, you haven't failed them," she murmured. "It's not your fault."

He turned to his wife; his shoulders were bowed as if they carried the weight of the world. Hermione whimpered.

"Whose fault should it be, Molly, if not mine? Aren't they mine to protect?"

"And mine, Arthur," said Severus. The older man looked beaten, but he was attentive as Severus stepped towards him. "We couldn't protect them from this. We had no idea it was a threat."

"So what is it, Snape?" Harry asked, voice sharp. "What is the bogeyman this time that you've failed to protect us from?"

"Harry!" Molly glared at him, but he brushed past her to stand next to Ron.

"Horcruxes, Mr Potter," Severus said. "Perhaps you've heard of them?"

~~**~~

Potter's face froze.

"I knew it!" Potter bellowed. "Why am I not surprised you knew about those vile... those abominations?"

Severus felt as if he'd been punched. It shouldn't have surprised him that Potter would assume that he'd played a part in handicapping them during the war. Never an ally, always an enemy.

"Ah, but I have nothing on you, Potter," said Severus. "After all, you walked around with one inside you for nearly seventeen years, did you not?"

Potter looked as if he might strike him, Severus thought, but he stood his ground, waiting for the words to sink in.

"What are you on about, Snape?"

"I already told you, Mr Potter. Horcruxes. Which, as we've established, I do know something about. Though you are incorrect in your assumption that I knew of them during the war. It's only recently that I learned of their existence in relation to your quest."

"What about them, then?"

"I understand you had intimate contact with several during the war."

"What's it to you?"

"It wouldn't be much of anything to me had I not been bitten by one myself. Not unlike Mr Weasley, here."

Molly gasped, and he briefly regretted the tactic. He'd watched from a distance after Arthur had been bitten by the snake; he'd watched the family rally around him and tried not to envy their closeness. None of them could have predicted how that snakebite would come back to haunt them.

"You apparently aren't any worse for the wear," Potter muttered.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Mr Potter," said Severus. "Neither I nor any of you who were also exposed to a Horcrux have escaped unscathed." He looked around the room. "Look at yourselves. Is this how any of you imagined your lives ten years after the Dark Lord's defeat?" He looked into those green eyes and swallowed hard. "Is this what Dumbledore led you to expect, Mr Potter?"

The boy looked stricken. Boy. Yes, in that moment, he looked as he had the day Severus had found him standing over Draco, covered in blood. Shocked. Terrified by a truth he'd never considered.

"Dumbledore told us..." His cheeks bore an unhealthy flush.

Severus felt a twinge. One day, he thought, he would no longer have the job of shattering perceptions. But not today.

"The headmaster did not always tell the full story even to those whose help he enlisted," Severus said, and he saw Potter grow pale.

"Did he... did he know?"

"I don't think so, Harry." Hermione's voice was soft. "I, erm... I hadn't planned to, but I talked with his portrait earlier today. He told me that he didn't realise what happened...what they did when you got close to them...until it was too late."

Potter looked from her back to Severus. "He didn't know?" He looked stunned, but the flush had returned to his cheeks, and Severus recognised the frantic expression on his face. "But he was also exposed, then, wasn't he?" Potter looked at him, the fire in his eyes no longer diffuse anger, but determination to understand. At last. "What did the Horcruxes do to him? To us?"

Potter's question seemed to release the last thread of hesitation from the group. They turned to face him, looking for the first time at Hermione and Longbottom without hostility.

"Come, sit," Severus said, looking to Molly for permission. She nodded and gently took Arthur by the hand.

"We'll tell you everything we know," said Hermione.

One by one, they came close to the fire. Slightly wary still, but the sharp edges softened. There, over the bottomless kettle of tea that Molly supplied, the seven survivors of Voldemort's Horcruxes showed one another their truths.

**

They were staring at the box as if it might contain a Blast-Ended Skrewt. The light pouring out from between the cracks had done nothing to reassure the younger Mr Weasley, who looked as if he might bolt if anything untoward were to happen.

"No reason to look so nervous, Ron," Longbottom said. "We already told you what's inside."

"Yeah, you told us," Weasley said. "But it seems to me that you've been hit with some surprises, and I'm not sure I'm up for one myself."

Hermione moved a bit closer to her former classmate. Her former friend.

"Ron," she said, addressing him directly for the first time, "we would never bring anything here that could hurt you." She looked around the room. "Not any of you."

Weasley nodded and cleared his throat.

Awkward, Severus thought, but honest.

"We don't know what will happen," Severus said. "But we do not anticipate anything negative."

There was a wordless shuffling of feet. None of this had been anticipated, and they were still absorbing the idea that the Horcruxes had eroded their internal barriers against the Dark.

Arthur stepped forward. "Let me go first. If there is any risk, I should be the first exposed."

"Arthur?" Molly's voice was anguished. Arthur looked at her and gently brushed his hand against her cheek nodding wordlessly.

Severus felt an unaccustomed pang and a pull toward the couple. Such intense love. Steady and mature, he thought. Underneath it all, it was there between them, and from that well, they cared for their family. It felt familiar to him now, he thought. As if he could see today what he'd not recognised all those nights around the table together during Order meetings.

"It will be all right, Molly." Hermione reached out her hand to the older woman as Arthur moved towards the box. "Watch."

Severus waved his wand, and the box opened, light bursting from its contents. Another wave and the tapestry rose, hovering in the centre of the circle they'd formed around it.

He'd forgotten the glorious feeling of that light on his skin, the way the strands seemed to reach for one another as they shimmered. Severus reached his hand to touch the weaving. "See," he said. "It's safe."

His words were unnecessary. The four of them could hardly resist what amounted to their own lost hopes and crystallised joy.

Severus, Hermione, and Longbottom stepped back as not only Arthur, but the others, too, drank in their lost Light. Severus couldn't tear his eyes away for all that it felt almost indecent to watch.

Ginevra Potter gasped, her face reflecting the horror of what had been missing all these years, then peace as the light washed over her, softening her features and relaxing the sharp angles all along her body...

Arthur's wariness turned to welcome; the joy on Molly's face when he laughed, his arms flung open... reaching for her...

Weasley, wary and eager at the same time, like a colt unsure of its footing, reaching first one finger, then both his hands into the tangled, blazing strands. He looked surprised, Severus thought, as if there might have been a trap imbedded in the centre of paradise...

And Potter. Harry Potter, who had more reason than most to deny that the horror he had defeated had left another layer of pain for him to repair. His eyes brimmed with tears until they spilled over. He looked at his wife, his friend, his surrogate father...face beaming with hope...and Severus felt a pang of longing.

And then, Harry Potter looked right at him and nodded, his hand on his chest as if he had to keep his heart from leaping from where it was beating. Severus inclined his head in response and pulled Hermione closer. Longbottom stood on her other side and smiled. For the first time in hours, Severus took a deep breath. He let the reflection of others' joy seep beneath his skin and realised that he could revel in it, too.

Time must have passed, though it felt like only moments. Twilight gave way to sunset and the rising of the moon, and gradually, the luminous tapestry dimmed until it melted away like snowflakes in the sunlight.

~~**~~

The room was silent but for the sounds of an uncertain peace.

The Potters had their arms wrapped around one another, and Hermione looked away from the sight of Ginny's shoulders heaving...Harry stroking her back, looking bewildered, still. Arthur had hold of his wife's hands, the expression on his face heartbreaking for the story it told about years lost to the insidious Dark and the knowledge that the doorway still stood open for it to return.

It was Ron, though, Ron who stood alone with nobody to cling to. Ron who asked the question nobody else wanted to voice.

"Now what?" He looked to Severus. The others looked up, too.

Severus seemed surprised, Hermione thought. Hadn't he noticed that it had been he who'd broken through to each of them earlier? Of course they turned to him. She felt a twist in her gut, not because they weren't turning to her...she didn't think so, at least. Something nagged at her, and she couldn't pin it down. Even so, it sat like a rock in her belly.

"Now, if you all are willing, we go to Hogwarts," he said, looking to Neville. The other wizard seemed to understand the unspoken request.

"We all need to go to the Room of Requirement," he said. "Ginny, you remember how the Room and I understood each other during the war."

She nodded and gifted him with a small smile. "Do you think it can tell us what we require?" she asked.

Neville smiled. "I do," he said. "And it was hurt by a Horcrux, too, so I believe it requires whatever we do."

Harry was nodding. "The tiara. Fiendfyre," he said, looking at Ron and then, finally, to Hermione. He paused, catching her eye. They stood like that for a long moment, old friends remembering who they'd been to one another, and why.

"Fiendfyre," she said. If there'd been an image that had come to mind over the years that captured what had happened to her life, her friendships, her future, Fiendfyre had been it. Harry's face paled for a moment and he bowed his head, nodding slowly.

"It moves too fast," he said. "Everything is gone before you know what's happened."

"I know," she said. "All you can do is try to save yourself and whoever you can reach." She looked at Ron. "Whoever is closest."

Ron blushed.

"We should have..." He stumbled on his words, but Hermione understood.

"You did your best, Ron. We all did. But this thing, the Shadow, it eats us up alive." She looked around. "And we've found some defences against it, but we have to do more or else it's likely to swamp us all again."

Arthur nodded. "We should go."

"I'm coming with you," said Molly. "That's all right, isn't it, Severus?" She looked to him, anxious.

"It seems to me that having loved ones near is more than all right," he said. "It's a necessity." He looked at Hermione, and she blushed.

Ron looked as if he might say something and then thought better of it. It was too soon, she thought. Far too soon to put words to what she and Severus had, especially to describe it to Ron. They'd already told him...told all of them...the most important parts: that contact between them chased away the Dark and...

She gasped, and Severus looked at her, concerned.

Not here. No, not here. She shook her head and tried to keep breathing.

Severus hesitated, but she shook her head again. She looked away, and then he was talking again, his voice smooth and low. Above the whooshing in her ears, she heard them agree to meet outside the Hogwarts gates. Someone sent an owl to Headmistress McGonagall, and there was a flurry of activity as they prepared to leave.

Hermione was numb, frozen amidst the activity around her. She'd have to tell him; she knew it. Just not here. Not now.

For now, she'd pretend...for a little while longer, she'd hold on to the belief that what she and Severus shared belonged to them, that it was real. Because if she stopped pretending, the truth would crush her, and she didn't think she could bear it.

Not yet.

~~**~~

It was long past midnight, and everybody was finally settled in their respective rooms in the castle. He gave silent thanks to Minerva for her efficiency and her welcome.

Hermione had gravitated to the windows again, her forehead pressed against the cool glass.

"Are you going to tell me, or are you going to make me guess?" he asked. His voice carried across the room, and he wished he had the courage to follow it. Her withdrawal this time felt different than it would whenever the Darkness flooded her and was more chilling for it.

She lifted her head and turned to face him. Her eyes looked nearly as dead as they had on the night he'd found her. Not filled with Darkness, but with bottomless grief.

"I didn't intend to keep it from you," she said, her voice rough. "It just wasn't something... It hit me all of the sudden, and... I couldn't say anything at the Burrow. Not with everybody there. I just..."

His stomach twisted. "Couldn't say what?" He knew that his expression was blank. It always was when pain had seared him to the bone.

Hermione closed her eyes and raised a shaky hand to the window to steady herself. When her eyes opened again, he saw a flash of the woman he'd come to know...and then she was gone behind shields he hadn't known she had.

"I thought it was us," she said, gesturing between them. "I thought that it was something special between us that made the Darkness go away." She was shaking her head. "But I was wrong."

She motioned for him to wait when he started towards her.

"It's you," she said. "Didn't you notice? With each of them, it was you who got through. You're the common denominator. It's you. There's nothing special about us." She was speaking so quickly he could barely follow. "I don't want you to be with me under false pretences. This isn't magic between us. If you'd come across Ginny first, she would have been the one you'd have..."

"Stop." He might have been shouting; he wasn't sure. "Stop right there." He could move now, and he did. He was at her side in a heartbeat, his hands on her shoulders. He had to see her; she had to see. She closed her eyes, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. "Breathe, Hermione. Please. Just breathe."

She drew a deep breath, but it was more of a sob, followed by a wail of grief so deep that he thought it would go on forever. He pulled her against his chest and made soothing noises, nonsense that he hoped soothed her panic and did nothing for his own.

"Hermione," he whispered. "Oh, Hermione. You don't understand this at all."

That was enough to rouse her, and he stifled a smile.

"I understand this perfectly well, Severus," she said. "There is something about you that is the catalyst. I don't know why, and I suppose we'll have to figure it out. But it means..."

"I don't give a bloody damn what you think it means Hermione." His voice was rough, his heart pounding. "I'm not here with you...opening myself to you, sharing my bed with you, trusting you...because I think that something magical bound us together. Despite what you say, I'm not convinced there isn't something unique about how the Dark reacts to our contact with one another. But it doesn't matter. I don't care if my touch alone could eradicate the Shadow in any of the others...I wouldn't want any of them. I don't want anybody else."

Her tears had slowed. He brought his thumbs to her cheeks and brushed away the ones that had lingered.

"You don't care?" She looked confused.

"I don't care what it is that links us, if there is anything tying us together other than what we feel for each other. I need no explanation for this." He brought his lips to her forehead, resting there, breathing in her scent, feeling the cadence of her pulse through her skin.

"It doesn't matter?" she echoed.

"Hermione," he whispered. "It's not the magic. It's never been the magic."

He cupped her face in his hands and looked her in the eye. The grief had ebbed, and he saw a spark of light there again. "Hermione, it's you. I love you."

She didn't need to speak. The tears that poured from her now were like crystal. Joy and love and hope spilled from her, and he caught every drop in his outstretched hands.

****

Endless thanks to Annie Talbot for her always magnificent alpha and beta reading, and to Drinking Cocoa for her incisive and insightful alpha read. They made this chapter better than it would have been without them.