Chapters 171-180

Cave A Signatis

Draco met Severus’ gaze, his eyes wide open, one memory foremost in his mind, a horror a thousand times replayed during his sixth and seventh year at school, until it would never be forgotten.

…he dreamt of waking, his left arm cradled in his right. The morning sun slanted through the window, hitting his flesh.

Hitting the black outline of a tattoo.

But his memory went beyond the dream to when he’d woken. To when he lay, curled around his arm, all muscles tense and hurting, his eyes squeezed shut over the tears of a fucking weakling. And even further than that, to numerous occasions throughout the day when he wanted to draw up his sleeve, just to make sure that there was nothing there. No black lines. No tattoo. No skull. Just white, unmarked, pure skin.

It was the first time ever that his former Head of House looked away first.

oooOooo

‘Don’t worry, Draco,’ Luna Lovegood said in a reassuring way while she smiled fondly at her boyfriend who was chatting with Charlie Weasley next to the punch bowl. ‘There are no Bloodpurfles in Europe.’

Finally Draco managed to tear his gaze away from his arm. ‘Thanks, Looney,’ he mumbled. ‘I think I’ll go find Hannah. I—It’ll be midnight soon.’

oooOooo

Suddenly it was time for that stupid Charm of a song.

Draco had stopped believing in that Charm as soon as he’d found out that it was a custom the wizarding world shared with the Muggle world. (How could it be magic if Muggles were doing it, too?) So how come he was standing here now, hand in hand with Harry (Harry of all people!) and Hannah? And he caught himself smiling at Hermione.

But that was just because of her ridiculous new hairdo, he reassured himself. It was impossible not to smile at someone who looked like an overgrown dandelion seed.

oooOooo

He had no explanation why he also smiled at Percy.

oooOooo

But he did scowl at Ron.

oooOooo

Draco wasn’t sure whose singing voice was worse: Molly’s inebriated screeching, Ron’s ragged roar, or Ginny’s giggly yodelling. Looney’s lilting lullaby was quite pleasant. And although Severus’ voice would never be as it had been, it was a still beautiful, a deep, even counterpoint to the general cacophony.

Just like they did with the school song, everyone was singing their own tune and sticking to their own rhythm.

At last there was only Alina Petrel singing. Her high, sweet descant turned into a fluttering solo as each note of her song turned into a glittering butterfly that soared in crazy circles above their heads.

Afterward, the room was almost silent—the only sound was the breathless flurry of butterfly wings against the ceiling. For a moment they all stared at each other, at the faces that made up this New Year’s circle, old (whoever had invited Aberforth Dumbledore?) and young (shouldn’t Teddy have been put to bed long ago?). Then Draco felt Harry squeeze his hand tightly for a second, and the circle dissolved.

Suddenly, Draco stood in front of Hannah, and Hannah smiled at him. ‘Happy New Year, Draco Malfoy.’

Draco put his arms around her. He enjoyed how she pressed her curves against him. ‘Happy New Year, Hannah Abbott.’

oooOooo

When they stumbled out of the Floo into the sitting room, Hermione could barely keep her eyes open. The phoenix on her perch in the bay windows cast a baleful glance at them. Woodstock’s hoarse squawk clearly conveyed what the young bird thought of all-night parties.

‘Oh, Severus,’ Hermione yawned. ‘What a great party. Wasn’t Harry cute, when he knelt down in front of Ginny? And Draco and Hannah—I think she’s really good for him. Teddy is so sweet! And you know what? I think he likes you!’ Hermione collided soundly with a bookcase. ‘Oops,’ she giggled and stumbled backward into Severus’ arms.

‘I shouldn’t have allowed you to drink that punch,’ he muttered. ‘Merlin only knows what George put in there. Here, stop that.’

‘Hmpf.’

‘Stop flailing like that, you silly girl. There’s not enough room for that.’

Suddenly she simply had to have a kiss. Now. Right now. She turned in his arms. He lost his footing. For a moment he kept his balance, caught himself, swayed—

Then it was too late.

With a solid thump they ended up on the landing, Hermione in Severus’ lap. Never one to let an opportunity go to waste, Hermione squirmed against Severus, curled her arms around his neck and nuzzled his earlobe. ‘I love you, Severus Snape.’

She couldn’t tell if his choked reply was a sound of exultation or exasperation.

oooOooo

‘Severus! Hermione!’

The hoarse sound of Harry’s voice didn’t quite penetrate her muddled dreams. Not even the quake of the mattress as Severus jumped out of the bed, his muffled oath, and the pounding of his feet on the wooden stairs woke her up.

Warm. Weary. Hmm…

She turned around and snuggled deeper under the covers.

oooOooo

Suddenly the warm blankets were rudely torn away from her, and a cold phial was thrust against her lips.

‘Drink this,’ Severus ordered.

She obeyed without thinking. Sputtering and coughing, Hermione shot up from the bed. She wheezed helplessly and dashed frantically at her eyes. Then she doubled over as Hangover Potion induced nausea twisted her stomach.

A second later, she sat next to her husband, wide awake and sober.

‘Oh God, Severus, what are you trying to do? Kill me?’ she gasped.

‘I’m sorry, Hermione,’ he said, studying her carefully.

‘I’m okay now,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong? Was that Harry on the Floo?’

Severus nodded. ‘News from the Ministry.’ He paused. ‘Umbridge is dead. She was killed last night.’ He swallowed hard. ‘And—they found Shacklebolt. He—has been dead for several weeks.’

Hermione’s heart pounded, her temples throbbed. ‘But—but that’s impossible—I—Percy said he’d talked to the Minister only yesterday!’