Chapters 91-100

Almost Nothing

‘No, no, no!’ Alina shrieked. Then she flung herself at Ron and began beating her fists against him. In spite of her slight build, her blows were hard enough to bruise. Worse, Ron could sense how her control of her magic was slipping.

Holding onto the girl with one arm, he used his free hand to fish out his wand. He gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate in spite of having to duck away from Alina’s fists. ‘Protego!’

To his surprise, he felt an instant tickle of magic as a solid magical shield flared up around them, filling the air with the faintest glitter of silver.

What a time for this spell to work for me, he thought morosely and glanced at Hermione. His friend looked stunned. Ron winced.

He still didn’t like seeing her with the git. Hell, I don’t think I’d like to see Hermione with anyone, no matter that I’m with Lois now.

Hermione raised her head and met his gaze. Her eyes were almost black with despair.

I think I’m going barmy, I hate seeing her without the git more than seeing her with him?

Hermione shook her head at him, and if Alina hadn’t hit his right eye at that moment, Ron would have sighed.

‘Stop that this minute, Alina,’ Lois shouted. ‘Beating someone doesn’t help!’

The girl never heard her mother, of course. Ron tightened his hold on her, and used his other arm to pull Lois with him. ‘Lois, we need to get out of here quickly. Alina’s losing control of her magic.’

Lois paled—she’d been cautioned about that like all Muggle parents when Minerva first visited her. ‘Can you…?’ She shrugged helplessly, but did not try to touch Alina again.

Ron nodded. ‘I think so. But we still need to get her home. Now.’

oooOooo

Ron awkwardly patted the little girl’s back while she sobbed into her pillow. For some strange reason Alina didn’t want her mother. She wanted him. Now Ron was perched on the edge of her bed, desperately trying to remember how his mother had calmed down Ginny when his little sister had thrown a tantrum as a child.

‘How can they take him away? He never did anything wrong. He loves Hermione! Why don’t they see that? Anybody that has eyes can!’

Clearly this was not the moment to say anything but the best about Snape.

‘I guess the Chalice doesn’t see things quite the way people do,’ Ron said at last.

‘But it should!’ Alina sniffled and sat up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her nose swollen from rubbing it so much. ‘It should! It’s not fair. And I need him! I wanted him to be my father so much, but I knew he wasn’t ’cause he’d never do something like that, but at least he’s my Head of House and that’s almost like a father and he can’t—he can’t—he mustn’t be gone and what about Hermione?’

With another sob, she threw herself into Ron’s arms again, pressing her face against his shoulder, her tears soaking into his robe.

oooOooo

‘I’m so sorry.’ Percy reached for Hermione’s hand.

She snatched her hand away. ‘Severus is not dead!’

Draco put his hand on Percy’s arm. ‘Of course not. Let’s sit down and discuss what we know.’

oooOooo

What they knew amounted to almost nothing.

The Chalice was an ancient Egyptian artefact, originally hallowed to the Goddess of Neith. Linked with the Greek Goddess Pallas Athene, Neith was a Goddess of war and hunt, but also a guardian of marriage and women. The Chalice was a simple golden goblet. Around its base a hieroglyphic inscription announced its special power: ‘I am All That Has Been, That Is, and That Will Be. No mortal has yet been able to lift the veil that covers Me’.

‘That’s the reason why they use it for judgement. It is said that it’s impossible to manipulate it. It is regularly imbued with all the laws and the history of the wizarding world. Thus it takes everything into account, more than any witch or wizard could,’ Percy explained.

Hermione wearily rubbed her head. ‘But something must have gone wrong. Somehow. The Registry Office wedding was perfectly valid. And I did not marry Severus only to save him. And he…I’m still not sure why he agreed to marry me… but certainly not in order to save himself.’

‘As anyone in the wizarding world knows who’s in the possession of two working brain cells,’ Harry commented and resumed his restless pacing. ‘Oh, wait, I forgot. The Chalice doesn’t even have brain cells. Fuck.’

He stopped again and turned to Hermione. ‘I should have trusted Andromeda. Arthur was right. Again.’

At least he didn’t repeat how sorry he is, Hermione thought. She turned to Draco. ‘Do you think Andromeda would be willing to talk to me? I think we need to get the Chalice examined, and that won’t be possible if she doesn’t agree.’

Draco shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I’m not sure. She really does blame Severus, you know.’

oooOooo

Hermione stood in the silent bedroom. She had refused all invitations to stay at the Burrow, at Grimmauld Place or at Lois’ apartment. She had briskly lied that she would be all right, that Healer Mugwort had provided her both with more Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep Potion and after all she wouldn’t be alone at Hogwarts.

She’d never been more alone in her life.

Stiffly she walked to the alcove with his bed. It felt so strange to be alone in his room. She pulled back the covers mechanically, revealing his black pyjamas, neatly folded, probably by the house-elf Nag. Hermione sank down on her knees next to the bed. With shaking hands she reached for the pyjamas, drew them closer, closer—until her face was buried in the black silk and Severus’ scent enveloped her. But it was cold and stale, in the lifeless way that fragrance clings to fabric instead of skin.