Chapters 151-160

I wanted to tell you…Or: Horn of a Hornless Unicorn

That I love you, of course. But I’ve done that already. Better yet, you’ve read that in my mind. So no matter what will happen, that at least you’ll take with you.

But there’s so much else.

Small things. Sentimental things you wouldn’t appreciate. That I love falling asleep in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and inhaling your scent (vetyver, bergamot, nutmeg, rosemary, cypress).

Big things. How much I regret that you are right, and this is not the right time for a child. Especially since now there may never be a right time.

Random things. The way you stir your tea. So methodical. As if it was a potion. Three times clockwise, three times widdershins.

Hermione realised that Severus was waiting for her answer. ‘I went to Ollivander for help. I think I’ve discovered something that may help us.’ She flicked her vine-wand, lighting the candles first, then the fire. ‘Here, I copied the relevant passages.’

She handed him a sheaf of parchments.

At last he looked up. His expression was grim, the lines in his face harsh and cruel. ‘Pomet? Device?’ he sneered. ‘Why don’t you go and cross-reference Trelawney’s favourite bed-time story, “The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter”?’

But his hands were shaking, and that was really all Hermione needed to know.

oooOooo

‘What’s your quibble with that idea, Severus? It could work,’ Minerva said sharply. ‘I thought you valued Ollivander’s expertise.’

Rage and fear flickered in Snape’s eyes. He did not appreciate the fact that Hermione had shared the information concerning the Sempiternal Solution. ‘Minerva, I am astounded that you are willing to spend even a moment of your precious time on this preposterous notion. “Horn of hornless unicorns”?! I ask you!’

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Severus before she turned to the Headmistress.

‘He’s already solved that riddle, Minerva,’ she whispered. Hermione turned to her husband with a disarming smile. ‘I know why you cavil at this, love. But what other choice do we have?’

‘I probably could think of one or two alternatives if I put my mind to it,’ he retorted sourly.

‘I just bet you can, you sourpuss!’ Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘Severus! Please! Our wands—you and I both know that they share a special affinity. All scholars agree about the special mythical and magical significance of yew. And then there are all the details that Ollivander told me about the cores of our wands. It’s as if Fate WANTED us to have a chance!’

Following an impulse, she went to him and laid her hand on his. He stood, his arms crossed in front of his chest in his most forbidding manner. But to her that intimidating stance appeared strangely different today—it spoke of tension, of fear, of despair, of trying oh so desperately not to fall apart…Could it be like that for him, too? she wondered. He had told her that he loved her—in his way. But could it be that he—in his way—truly felt about her just the way she felt about him?

She gazed at him. ‘There is an affinity between our wands. You know that, and I know it, too. They are the right wands for this spell. The wood, the core—they already share a powerful connection.

‘If we manage to brew the Sempiternal Solution, all I have to do is go to a holy place, invoke the bridge, and we can draw back the Veil with the connection between our wands. You can pass beyond and back unhindered. You can find the source of the leeching curse and break it.

‘And all will be well.’

‘All will be well?’ Severus asked snidely. ‘When did that happen the last time in real life?’

‘Well, it will never happen if you don’t give it a chance,’ Hermione huffed.

‘Children—’ started Minerva McGonagall. Then the older woman’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The headmistress cleared her throat before she looked first at Severus, then at Hermione. ‘Please. I—I am aware that emotions are running high at the moment. And not without reason.’ Her eyes brightened with weary sympathy. ‘But we must not give up or give in. As long as there is hope, we must pursue it.’

Minerva glanced at the still portrait on the other side of her desk.

Although Hermione still wasn’t sure if she even liked Albus Dumbledore, one thing was clear: the old wizard had never given up, no matter how bleak things might appear.

‘Very well.’ Severus raised his hands in defeat. ‘I shall aid my apprentice to solve this riddle.’

oooOooo

‘Hooves!’ Hermione groaned. ‘The keratinised structure surrounding the distal phalanx of the third digit of phytophagous mammals also known as “horses”. Horn! Now I feel stupid.’

Severus smirked and drew her into his embrace. ‘I’m impressed with your vocabulary, though. Did you look that up?’

She grinned. ‘Plant-eating? No—I remembered that from a game I used to play with Harry and Ron. When I still tried to get them to improve their vocabulary.’

‘Didn’t really help, hm?’

Hermione just smiled, too blissful in the arms of her contradictory husband to spoil the mood by an inharmonious comment. Besides, he did have a point.

‘You should be pleased, Severus: Harry shared your opinion,’ she murmured.

‘He did?’

‘Hmm. Said that he didn’t understand how I put up with them in the first place.’

‘Be still my heart.’ Severus bent down to kiss her. ‘Harry Potter and I in complete agreement. Surely the end of the world is nigh.’

‘So we’ll be able to brew it?’

The mirth bled from his eyes. ‘Yes,’ Severus said. ‘We will brew the Sempiternal Solution. But you need to understand—it is but a fool’s hope, not a solution, no matter what Pomet called his potion.’

Hermione gazed at her husband earnestly.

‘And if it is,’ she whispered, ‘then I’d happily be the fool to brew it. If only for a bit of hope.’