Orpheus

Chapter 36

By Pigwidgeon37

After the Creevey trial, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, who was also responsible of the Minister for Magic’s safety, had implored Harry (with tears in his eyes and ready to fall down on his knees) to allow him to install some basic security devices at the Minister’s Manor. Just a few wee anti-Apparition shields and a ward or two. Or maybe a permanent guard of elite Aurors.

Harry Potter, though, had remained adamant. He was a Minister from and for the people, had been elected by the people and was loved by the people. Whoever wanted to come and see how the Minister lived, or speak to him, was free to do so whenever they wanted. There were House Elves, fearless and loyal, to fob off unwanted guests or protect him if necessary. But wards? Shields? Aurors? No, he would have none of that nonsense.

And so, the Manor had remained unprotected, and every time Harry had an appointment with his supreme Law Enforcer, he gave him a sly grin and said, “See? I’m still alive.”

When he had been informed of Snape’s escape, he had of course instructed the House Elves to stun the man if he dared to poke so much as a fingertip into his house. But Severus Snape had never shown up at the Manor—whether out of fear or because he wasn’t in the mood for revenge—and thus the Minister had remained undisturbed.

Until eleven p.m. on Friday, 30 March 2016, that is.

Harry was sitting in his study, already in his pyjamas and dressing gown, and perusing some documents, when suddenly the door was flung open, and the Minister of Magic found himself facing his godfather, who was looking more determined and angry than he’d ever seen him. A quick “Expelliarmus!” robbed him of his wand, and Harry had to admit to himself, albeit unwillingly, that he was terribly afraid of Sirius Black.

“Sirius, I—sorry for… I would have called you tomorrow,” he stuttered.

“Yeah, and pigs fly.” Sirius strode across the room, grabbed his reluctant godson’s arm and yanked him out of his chair. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

“Sirius, what—”

“All right.” Still holding on to Harry’s arm, the Animagus gave a short nod. “Thirty seconds of briefing, and then we’ve got to go. Malfoy has got the recipe for that potion that brings people back from the dead—” Harry’s jaw dropped “—Hermione has gone to stop him, the foolish girl—” Harry closed his mouth and tried to speak “—and Alastor has gone after her, with the stunned Malfoy girl in tow so Malfoy won’t do anything foolish.” Harry merely nodded, then shook his head. “Fine. And now we’ve got to go after them, to prevent a major catastrophe. All right? All right. Here’s your wand, and off we go.”



“But what—” Still completely dazed, Harry glanced around. They were standing in front of Malfoy Manor, the windows of which were lit. There seemed to be quite a lot of coming and going inside the house, and they could hear people shouting and running. “Sirius, I don’t think—”

He was interrupted again, though this time not by his godfather. A mediwitch came out of the door, mumbling to herself. She hadn’t noticed the two men and squeaked when Sirius stepped forward. “Mother Circe! You gave me quite a fright!”

“Sorry.” Sirius switched on his most irresistible smile.

The witch’s eyes widened. “Mi-Minister! I hadn’t noticed… I… How good of you to come and see her!”

When he heard his formal title, Harry straightened up and shoved his glasses up his nose. “Er, indeed, ma’am. How is she?”

“She’ll live,” the mediwitch said. “I was on my way to the greenhouses, we need some ingredients for the Sanguiplenus potion. She’s lost an awful amount of blood.”

Sirius stared at her, charming smile forgotten. “Lost… What did that bastard do to her?”

The witch frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow, Mr…”

“Black, Sirius Black. What did Malfoy do to her?”

“Nobody did anything to her, Mr. Black. She attempted to kill herself, and somebody—though we have no idea who it might have been—saved her life.”

Harry and Sirius exchanged a nonplussed look. “Kill herself?” Sirius shook his head. “Listen, ma’m, there has to be some misunderstanding.”

“Maybe. But I really have to get those herbs, so why don’t you go inside and talk to my colleagues? Maybe they’ll allow you to look in on her for a second.”

“Uh, yes.” Harry seemed to have lost some of his aplomb. “Y-yes, I guess we’ll just…”

But the mediwitch was already gone.

“Why in Hades would Hermione kill herself?” Sirius muttered, as they quickly ascended the few steps leading up to the entrance.

“I have no idea. If that cock-and-bull story you told me is true, maybe Malfoy used Imperius on her—Ah, Dr. Montague.”

The mediwizard, short and pot-bellied, blinked up at Harry, but managed to disguise his astonishment at seeing the Minister dressed for bed and with bare feet quite well. “Minister. What a pleasure. You would like to see Mrs. Malfoy, I suppose?”

“Mrs…” Harry put a hand over his eyes and groaned. “Did you just say Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Why, yes. I assumed you had come to see her, and—”

But Sirius cut him off. “Where is Mr. Malfoy?”

“I have no idea, really. We were called in by a House Elf. Mr. Malfoy has not yet shown up. Now, if you would follow me…”

“No, no.” Sirius turned to Harry. “Where might he have gone?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem to be the one in charge here, so why don’t you tell me?”

“Bugger.” Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Now let’s try to think logically. Where might—What?” He looked down, as something was insistently tugging at his robes, and into the bulging green eyes of a House Elf.

“Binky knows,” the elf said. It was looking quite distressed.

Frowning, Sirius bent down. “Really? You’re bound to your master, aren’t you? So how can we be sure you’re not just luring us into a trap?”

“No trap, Binky swears. Binky took Mrs. Potter to—”

“Hermione?” Dr. Montague stood forgotten (and obviously quite resented it) as Harry sat down on his haunches. “Where did you take her?”

“Ooooh…” The House Elf bowed deeply. “Your Excellency Minister Potter, Sir, Binky is honoured—”

“Where the fuck did you take Hermione?” Sirius barked.

“I takes Mrs. Potter to Ouessant, she wants to talk to Master Draco, and she is a friend because she saves the Mistress’s life…”

But the last words didn’t reach Sirius and Harry’s ears anymore, as they had already Disapparated.

“I say.” Dr. Montague adjusted the magical stethoscope hanging around his neck. “His Excellency seemed quite put out.” Thoughtfully shaking his head, he made his way back upstairs.

*

The stunning spell Moody had fired at Draco had whizzed past his head and merely smashed a large stoneware pot.

“Yes,” Draco said, his left forearm closing a little more tightly around Severus’s neck while the tip of his wand remained firmly pressed against Severus’s right temple, “Yes, I think it’s definitely time to negotiate.” Moody merely growled. “Let go of my daughter, and you can have the traitor.”

Severus, whose main concern was getting some air into his lungs by inhaling through his teeth—Malfoy’s arm was pushing up his jaw and therefore closing his mouth—thought that the old Auror seemed strangely calm, almost unconcerned. Then again, he mused, if Alastor was here, maybe Sirius, too, was going to arrive soon, and Moody simply needed to buy them some time.

“Nah,” Moody said. “The girl—” he adjusted her body on his shoulder “—stays where she is. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. First, you’ll hand over that formula.”

Malfoy snorted. “You know exactly that I can’t do that, Moody.” He tilted his chin to indicate his wand hand. “Sorry, but I can’t risk releasing him. I won’t make any more mistakes, believe me. Go get it yourself.”

“Your biggest mistake,” Moody replied, unmoved and unmoving, “is your plan to bring back that maniac you call father. Forgetting to reset the wards was a very minor thing compared to that. Anyway—” he nudged Hermione with his foot “—are you able to get up?”

“Yes, I think I am,” she said. Her voice, Severus thought, was remarkably firm, considering that she her arm was probably broken, and she had a tennis-ball-sized lump on her forehead. Not to mention the emotional strain she had to be under.

“Fine. Then get up and go to pick up the parchment from the worktable. Don’t be afraid—my wand is aimed at Malfoy. He won’t try anything.”

Severus, who didn’t want her to put herself in any danger, produced an inarticulate noise and shook his head, hoping to attract Moody’s attention. First, he thought he’d only managed to make Draco clutch his throat even more tightly, but finally Moody noticed his attempt at communication.

“Anything the matter, Sev?”

He rolled his eyes—didn’t the man see that he was unable to talk?—and then pointedly looked at the parchment and shook his head again.

“You mean no, she shouldn’t take it? Has he jinxed it? Turned it into a portkey?”

Constant vigilance, indeed. Severus shook his head.

Hermione peered at him from behind Moody’s massive shoulders. Her hair was standing in every direction, her forehead and cheek swollen, and lines of pain were etched into her face. To Severus, she seemed like the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He attempted a smile. Strange that one should feel so insanely happy in a situation like this. But he was happy, in spite of his fear and the dull stabs of pain shooting through his head.

She titled her head and scrutinized him. “I think,” she spoke into Moody’s ear, “he means there’s no need for me to get the formula.” Severus closed his eyes—nodding was simply too difficult. “I’m sure he didn’t—”

She broke off rather abruptly, seeing Malfoy’s eyes go wide with shocked surprise, and looked back over her shoulder. “Harry!”

Considering what Potter had done to him, Severus would never have believed he might actually be glad to see him. The more opponents—even though one of them was wearing pyjamas and no shoes—Malfoy had to face, the better. He only wondered why Sirius hadn’t arrived yet. Had he been detained? Wounded maybe? Severus hoped not.

With a brief nod at his ex-wife and Moody, Harry strode briskly across the room. “Malfoy. What is the meaning of—” he made a sweeping gesture “—all this?”

Severus noticed that Potter was carefully avoiding standing between Malfoy and the open door.

“None of your business, Potter,” Malfoy snarled. “But I’m glad you joined us, so you can take this piece of scum—” the point of his wand bored deeper into Severus’s temple “—with you and deliver him directly to Azakaban, where he belongs. And don’t forget the madman and the Mudblood. They kidnapped my daughter and—”

“Why are you here, Malfoy?” Harry interrupted him, “And…” He went over to the worktable, to examine the ingredients laid out there. “What exactly were you attempting to brew?” He adjusted his glasses and picked up the parchment. “What a strange formula… why, phoenix tears? Sirens’ tears, too? Somehow this looks very familiar.”

Severus felt Malfoy move; his grip loosened slightly and the tip of his wand shifted a little.

Which was exactly what Sirius had been waiting for. His “Expelliarmus!” was immediately followed by “Stupefy!”, and Severus was finally able to breathe when Malfoy’s arms went limp and left his throat.

“Excellent timing, Harry,” Sirius said, entering the room. “Sev, you’re looking horrible!”

“Dacks,” Severus replied surly.


Ten minutes later, all fractures, contusions and wounds had been healed more or less expertly; Malfoy, still unconscious, was magically bound to the same chair he’d confined Severus to, and Lucy was perching on the edge of the worktable, looking drowsy and forlorn. Harry, who had discreetly started examining the formula when Hermione flung herself into Severus’s arms (unlike Sirius and Moody, who watched them with big soppy grins on their faces), cleared his throat, demanding attention.

He pushed up his glasses and crossed his arms, to look gravely from Sirius to Moody. Finally, his gaze came to rest on Severus and Hermione. “I demand an explanation,” he said, “And it better be convincing as well as short. Once the House Elves discover that I am gone, they are going to alert the Aurors, who will move heaven and earth in order to find me. How come you are here?” he addressed Moody, “And how could you involve the child into this… this business?”

“Child, my arse,” Moody grunted. “You know what the so-called child did?”

“I am aware,” Harry said, somewhat stiffly, “that Miss Malfoy probably had a hand in revealing his—” he tilted his head towards Severus “—machinations. And although I admit that she ought to—”

“Oh, come on!” Sirius barked. “Didn’t you ever ask yourself why a fifteen-year-old girl would do such a thing?”

Lucy gave a soft mewling sound and buried her head in her hands. Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows. “This seems to be quite clear, doesn’t it? Let us face it—there is no love lost between Malfoy and Snape, so he probably—”

“No,” Sirius cut him off, “she—”

“Do. You. Think. I might finish one bloody sentence tonight?” Harry shouted. Sirius merely shrugged. “Thank you so very much. Well, Miss Malfoy, it seems that you owe us an explanation.”

Her face still hidden in her hands, Lucy shook her head and uttered a muffled, “No!”

“Leave the girl alone, Potter,” Severus said, “She told me, and I suppose she told the others as well. She was horribly jealous of Hermione, because she had a crush on me. She wanted to get Hermione out of the way and thought that having her denounced as an illegal potions-brewer would be just the thing to get rid of her.”

“And I took her along,” Moody added, “because I needed some leverage against Malfoy.”

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Well… I… I still don’t quite understand, but I suppose it is rather complicated. Anyway, Snape, what the hell are you doing here?”

Severus, who had had his nose mended quite expertly by Sirius, was blissfully pain-free and had trouble thinking of anything else than the feel of Hermione’s body warm and soft against his, and her hair tickling his cheek. He found himself strangely unconcerned with all this explaining business, although he knew that Potter could dispatch him to Azkaban for the rest of his life without even needing to justify his actions. So maybe it was better to humour the pompous git. After all, the guy had had a hand in saving his life. “I’ve been destroying every trace leading to the Draught of Life for about two months now,” he said wearily, “And today, I’d just gone to Venice—”

The woman he loved looked up at him in utter horror. “Destroying? Are you saying you destroyed books?”

“I just cut the relevant pages out and destroyed them.”

“That’s terrible, Severus! Books! You just can’t—”

“May I remind you that we don’t have much time?” Harry interrupted her sharply. “The Aurors will be invading the house any minute now, and once they’re here, I can’t do anything but let them do their duty. If,” he added pointedly, “I find it in my heart to… protect you.” He glared at Severus.

“Er, yes. Well, as I was saying, I was in Venice, where I met some shady individuals who showed me a letter from Malfoy, informing a few select business partners of his intention to sell a potion that protects from the Killing Curse. That was enough for me to—”

“Ha!” Moody grinned and nudged Sirius. “See? Mundungus was right, the old fraud.”

“I’m sure,” Severus continued, “that the Aurors shouldn’t have any difficulty getting their hands on such a letter. In any case, it was my motive to Apparate straight to Ouessant. I didn’t know they had returned to England.”

Harry shook his head. “This is getting more complicated instead of clearer. But I have to admit that it seems as if I committed a few mistakes.”

“You can say that again,” growled Moody, but was silenced by a nudge from Sirius.

Harry frowned and continued, “I was not the only one, though, and most certainly not the first one to start weaving the web of lies that have brought about so much grief, pain and death. You—” he pointed at Severus and Hermione “—are as guilty as I am, because you lied to me and betrayed my trust. However, I am ready to admit that I ought to have listened to both of you, so maybe we could have avoided the death of Mr. Cox, the disappearance of Mr. Fairchild which, I am sure, is somehow connected to this sad affair, and Mrs. Malfoy’s attempt at suicide, which—”

“Mother?” Everybody turned to look at Lucy, whose presence they seemed to have forgotten. “My mother tried to kill herself? She isn’t—”

“No, Miss Malfoy,” Harry said gravely, “She survived, for which you have to thank Mrs… Snape.” The last words cost him visible effort.

“How would you know about that?” Hermione asked.

“Sirius took me—and believe me, this is quite an understatement, ‘abducted’ would describe it much better…” He shot Sirius a stern look. “He thought you had gone to Malfoy Manor, so we went there first. But you need not worry,” he addressed Lucy, stepping close to her and putting a hand on her shoulder, “She is alive and relatively well.”

“But why…” Lucy stared up at him in confusion. “Why would Mother…” Now she began to cry, and Harry pulled her into an awkward embrace and patted her back.

“Please try to calm yourself, Miss—Lucertola.” He raised his voice a little, so the others could hear him over Lucy’s sobs. “I will take Miss Malfoy home to her mother, as I think this would be best for both of them. As to you—” once again, his look swerved from one to the other “—I suggest that we forget this whole sordid affair.”

Four audible gasps answered his words, but he continued unperturbed, “Alastor, I hereby order you and Sirius to wait for the Aurors and accompany them when they take Mr. Malfoy back to England. You will be present while he is interrogated under Veritaserum. He is, of course, to be kept prisoner until further instruction. He will be given a fair trial, although we may be sure of its outcome.” With Lucy still sobbing into his chest, he turned to Severus and Hermione. “Considering how badly I have wronged you both, Cox’s death will remain without legal consequences. But you must remain officially dead, and can therefore not return to your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“What do you mean he can’t—Harry, this is completely crazy!” Sirius shouted, taking a step towards Harry as if to attack him.

“Don’t bother, Sirius,” Severus said, holding up a hand to stop him, “I think Hermione and I wouldn’t have wanted to return in any case. We are going to retire to some quiet place, do a bit of research and be disgustingly happy. Only our friends—” he shot Harry a pointed look “—will know where to find us. Is that acceptable to you, my love?”

“I still think that what Harry just said is the most outrageous thing I’ve ever heard, but yes, I agree with you.”

“I can’t see what is so outrageous,” Harry began but was cut off by Sirius.

“Oh, shut up, will you? Take the girl and leave—I really can’t stand the sight of you anymore!”

Ostensibly angry and wounded, Harry scooped Lucertola up in his arms and stalked out of the room.

“Just a moment!” Hermione wiggled out from under Severus’s arm and ran after Harry. “Listen, Harry. Do us all a favour. There’s a portrait of Lucius Malfoy somewhere at the Manor. Destroy it.”

“Why should I…” Harry shot her a suspicious look.

“If you don’t believe me, ask Cho. And Lucertola, too, might be able to tell you some nasty stories about that painting. He’s dead, Harry, and he’ll never come back. Severus has seen to that. But you have to make sure he doesn’t manipulate people from the grave, so to speak.”

“Well…” Harry still looked doubtful. “If you are sure…”

“I’m absolutely sure. And—” she pushed up his glasses which had slid down to the tip of his nose “—I’m also sure that Cho would be very grateful for a shoulder to cry on. She’s had one hell of a life.” He blushed. Hermione saw it with satisfaction.

“Of course I’m going to… I mean, somebody has to look after her and her daughter, now that Draco—he won’t come back to them, you know?”

“I hope he won’t. So—” she sighed and shook her head “—go play the Knight in Shining Armour, Harry. And this time, don’t botch it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know—”

“Then think, for god’s sake!” she snapped and turned to go back to the others.



“Finally,” Moody said, “I thought that disgusting little prick would go on forever. Thanks for throwing him out, Sirius.”

“You’re very welcome. It was a pleasure—not as great as beating him up would have been, but it will have to do.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Well,” Moody said brusquely, “I think we’ve got work to do, haven’t we, Sirius?”

“Y-yes. But—” Sirius gestured at the reunited couple “—I mean, we can’t just part like this, after everything that happened…”

“Of course not,” Severus said. “Remember the family house in Tuscany?”

“Difficult to forget that.” Sirius grinned. “Wasn’t that where we took those two—”

“Yes.” Severus glared at him. “Exactly the one. Why don’t you go and fetch Minerva, after having discharged your duty, and drop by for a glass of wine?”

Hermione nodded, curls a-fly. “Yes, that would be wonderful. And you might bring Twitchy and the cats!”

Severus groaned. “The cats? But—”

“You didn’t think I was going to live without Pluto and Hades? I’ve missed them terribly. Besides—” she shot him a mischievous grin “—don’t get too tetchy, or I might investigate more closely what exactly you and Sirius did in that house.” Severus shot another glare at the Animagus, who merely shrugged. “And,” she continued, stabbing his chest with her index finger “you better be nice to my kittens. Or I’m going to call you Sidonius for the rest of your life.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me,” she said.

T H E  E N D