Chapters 231-240

‘No.’

Hermione lay on her narrow bed and stared at the vaulted ceiling. She did a lot of that lately. There was nothing else to do. Her cell contained only two books. A bible and a book of prayers and hymns. She refused to touch them.

The muted sound of singing drifted through the window. It was just before noon, time for the midday prayer. She wondered how long she’d been here. She was almost certain that she’d lost a day after her failed Apparition attempt. Two nuns—dressed in white with black gowns and veils—had come to bring her supper and help her into bed that evening. They had ignored her questions, her tears and her screams. With silent smiles they had spread the blankets over her, put the small stool next to her bed and placed a bowl of soup and a piece of bread on it. Then they had left her. She hadn’t touched the food and lain in the darkness, crying helplessly.

When she had woken again, it was evening once more and the food was gone. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was the next day or already Thursday. Besides, it would make no difference if she knew what day of the week it was or what date. She would still be a prisoner here. And it would still be her hands that had killed her husband and her best friend.

oooOooo

‘Seven steep steps,’ Severus said softly as he guided Harry into the Death Chamber of the Ministry of Magic. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how the young wizard clenched his teeth. He couldn’t tell if the location of the debriefing bothered Harry or if he was biting back an irritable retort. Since they had returned from Death, Harry had grown very reticent. Small wonder.

For a second he considered suggesting that it was early days yet. A cure might yet be found, or at least a way to provide magical vision for Harry à la Madeye Moody. Both were true. But both were unlikely according to expert opinion of specialists at St. Mungo’s.

Distracted by helping Harry and his musings, Severus noticed the Veil only when they had reached the floor of the Death Chamber.

He stopped abruptly, giving Harry a start.

‘What’s the matter?’ Harry asked.

Severus couldn’t reply at once, his gaze riveted by the isolated archway and the Veil. A wind out of nowhere billowed the smooth, perfect rectangle of the Veil, blowing it high enough into the Death Chamber that Severus could see the back of the fabric. Or to be completely precise: he could not see it. What he saw was a shimmering in the air that hinted at the esoteric fabric of an invisibility cloak.

‘The Veil,’ the cool voice of the Minister of Magic supplied. ‘It is no longer tattered and torn. Apparently the theory that your invisibility cloak was made of the fabric of the Veil was correct. Now it has been restored.’

Harry swallowed dryly. With hard, empty black eyes he stared in the general direction of the archway. Then he cocked his head.

‘I can still hear their voices,’ he said. ‘Very softly. But they are there. I wonder if that is what Alina hears.’

Andromeda frowned. ‘I thought the girl was struck deaf and dumb?’

Severus nodded. ‘Yes, but like many deaf she can hear noises that are inside her mind. In her case, voices. Sighs, screams, sobbing. I suspect she hears the sounds that people utter before they die.’

‘Merlin.’ The Minister blanched.

‘Won’t help her,’ Severus replied bitterly.

Andromeda frowned at him, but did not react to this slight. ‘Is there anything that will help her?’

‘Not as far as the experts in St Mungo’s can tell.’

Harry pressed his arm and leant forwards a little. ‘Severus’ phoenix. Alina can hear Woodstock. Apparently phoenix song alleviates the pain caused by the voices. Headmistress McGonagall and Severus have permitted Alina to keep the phoenix with her at all times.’

‘That is…very kind.—Now, please sit down, so we can discuss what has happened.’

‘And what is being done to find Hermione,’ Severus added with a hint of steel to his voice.

oooOooo

‘…the Vatican assures us that they do not employ any practicing witches or wizards anymore, not even as exorcists. Their liasion was horrified when he was informed of all the details. They have installed a commission to investigate the crimes. We hope that the collaborative efforts of the Vatican, the Secret Service for Sorcerers, the Unspeakables, the Aurors and plain Muggle police forces will produce results quickly,’ Andromeda concluded.

‘What about a blood search?’ Severus asked.

‘A team of Unspeakables with a forensics specialist are already on their way to Australia to obtain a blood sample from Hermione’s parents. But as not even your house-elf could locate her, they are less than hopeful that more ordinary means will be successful.’

‘Then use extraordinary means!’ Severus snarled.

Andromeda met his gaze squarely. Her voice was cold and professional, when she replied, ‘That is exactly what we are doing. Or what would you call a collaboration between the Church, Muggle police, and the wizarding world?’ With slightly more warmth, she continued, ‘Severus, I know that this is a very difficult time for you, but you have to face the possibility that Hermione is dead.’

He stared at her for a long moment. Then, very softly, he said a single word: ‘No.’

oooOooo

Ron perched awkwardly on the counter in the saleroom of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Sometimes he still forgot that he didn’t have a left arm anymore, tried to lean on it and had to jerk himself upright again in a clumsy fashion.

Harry’s stony gaze was directed at an invisible point somewhere behind Ron’s right ear.

‘So do you think she’s still alive somewhere?’ Ron asked.

Harry rubbed his scar. ‘I have to,’ he said at last.

‘If only for Severus’ sake,’ he added in a whisper.