Augury & Ardor

Author's Notes: I’ll apologize now for this chapter being so short. I don’t plan them to be any specific length. Mostly, I have an idea of what I want to convey, type it out, and then move on. If I think the thoughts are related closely enough, I’ll just put in a page break and keep going. Sometimes, however, I’m jumping too much time or the subject is so different, I have to stop and start a new chapter. I could have, conceivably, added this short piece to the last chapter, but Chapter 14 had become SO long, I decided to make this bit its own chapter. Consequently, this ended up short.
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“Is there more wine?” Professor Dumbledore asked, coming into the library. He chose a soft chair near hers and conjured a goblet into his hand. His was crystal as well but with a pewter cage wrought in the shape of a phoenix rising. Hermione leaned across to meet him halfway and tapped her wand against it. “Ah, thank you, my dear.”


They sat sipping in companionable silence for a bit before he finally spoke again. “I won’t pretend I didn’t hear your conversation with Ron.” Other than an almost imperceptible lift to her chin, Hermione showed no reaction to his statement. She merely held his gaze and waited for him to continue. “I’m sure, given time, he’ll come to terms with what has happened.”


Hermione gave a small, sharp jerk of her shoulder in response. “While I’d like those I care for to understand, in the end it doesn’t matter if they do. It won’t change how I feel.”


Silence bloomed between them before Professor Dumbledore asked slowly, “How, exactly, do you feel, Hermione?” Firelight flashed in her eyes, giving them the look of dark diamonds when she turned her gaze back on him.

“Like I’ll scream at the next person who expects me to nod and dab my eyes in gratitude while they denigrate Severus,” she said, each word uttered as hard and unyielding as a pebble. “Like I’m sick to death of everyone openly reviling him. For years, he’s put himself at risk for you – for the Order – and all the reward he’s had in return is to be scorned by everyone, even those he’s working to protect.”


Once again silence settled over the room. Hermione finished her wine and was just about to spell away the glass and leave when Dumbledore spoke. “I must say, I’m happy to hear you feel that way.” At Hermione’s sharp look, he leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “I know you’re angry with me, my dear, and you have a right to be, I suppose. I’ve asked a lot of Severus over the years.” He sighed and turned his gaze to the flames jumping in the fireplace. “I’m sorry you had to become embroiled in the subterfuge as well.”


“I’m not worried about me,” Hermione replied, her tone clipped and dismissive. “With or without your involvement, I’d have been taken by Voldemort.”


“Yes, that’s true,” the white-haired wizard agreed, his gaze returning to her. “However, without my involvement, Severus would not have been there to prevent you being wedded to a true Death Eater and, perhaps, fulfilling a fearsome prophecy.” At her stunned look of comprehension, he nodded and gave her a grave smile. “I assure you I take no more pleasure in endangering him than I do in endangering Harry. These dark times call for us to sacrifice, however, even so far as putting those we most wish to keep safe in danger. Believe me when I say you are not the only one who cares for Severus Snape, Hermione.”


“If I may…” Professor Dumbledore said, waiting until her eyes lifted to him again before continuing. “You’re right in assuming there are few who appreciate Severus’ sacrifice. I would like, if you’re willing to listen to the ramblings of an old man, to elucidate . . . to expound, if you will, on this subject.” At her nod, he took a sip of wine and a deep breath before speaking.


“Severus was an exceptional student, much as you were, when he was studying at Hogwarts. Unlike you, however, he didn’t have the happy circumstance of making good friends at the school. He was never very social. From the beginning, he was a private, guarded person.”


“He was thin and pale, not given to sport, and almost obsessed with proving himself academically. Those things alone would have made it difficult for him, starting out in a new place. He was, however, also a very serious boy. So serious in fact, one could have described him as abrasive. It was unfortunate, but not surprising, to find Sirius Black and Harry’s father, James, had developed an antagonism with Severus.


“Sirius and James were his antithesis, you see. They were sort of boys who made friends easily. Handsome young men. Good at sports. Clever without appearing studious. Witty . . . I suppose, if Severus had been a bit more flexible - able to relax and laugh at himself – things may have turned out differently…”


“Why was it his fault?” Hermione asked, anger once again coloring her voice.


“I’m not saying he was at fault,” Professor Dumbledore hurried to say. “It was no one person’s fault. Each of them was blind and inflexible in their own way. If Sirius and James had been more introspective - more compassionate, perhaps - who knows what may have happened. Instead, a series of inconsequential meetings quickly developed into a feud that lasted their entire school career.”


Dumbledore sighed. “Hogwarts might have been a solitary but rewarding experience for Severus had things been different. Unfortunately, he felt hounded at every turn and came to resent not only James and Sirius but also anyone who aspired to be their friend – anyone who aspired to be like them. The only friends he made – and I use that term loosely – were a group of boys in his House. I imagine many of those who survived were assembled at Voldemort’s lair when you were kidnapped.” His eyes wandered to the fire again as he added, “I also imagine many of them participated in the torture that was inflicted on Severus recently.”


After a brief pause, Dumbledore proceeded. “So, you have a picture of the boy who came to Hogwarts and how events there conspired to cement his natural propensity toward self-possession. I don’t have to tell you that he became a Death Eater; the Dark Mark on his forearm is evidence of that.”


Hermione blinked into the flames. In the beginning, it had been a shock to see it there on his naked arm. Although she had known he’d been a Death Eater in his youth, the tattoo that marked him one had always been covered. Even on the hottest days at Hogwarts, he’d dressed in long sleeves.


Dumbledore began to speak again and Hermione pushed aside the rapid, flashbulb images of that mark pressed against her skin as he held her, her fingers curling around it for support as he joined her in the shower, magnified in her vision as he braced his arms beside her head. She squeezed her eyes closed, briefly, and forced herself to listen.


“I also don’t have to tell you that he is a member of the Order of the Phoenix and has played double agent for years.” Here, Professor Dumbledore paused and studied her face. “Let me ask you this, Hermione… If someone were to come to you and tell you they had evidence Severus was a loyal Death Eater, what would you say?”


“I’d say they were wrong,” she answered simply.


“And, if they had overwhelming evidence?” he pressed.


“The evidence would be false.”


He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then gazed into the fire and stroked a hand over his beard. “I’m guilty of exploiting his nature, it’s true. His natural inclination to be guarded and unapproachable is what has made him the perfect spy. A man with no friends or family - a man who shares no confidences and forms no relationships – has no weaknesses.”


“He also has no support,” Hermione replied with sharp accusation. “He’s also completely alone.”


“Yes, that’s true,” Dumbledore sighed. “I knew this and allowed it anyway. He’s a fiercely loyal man, however, when he does form an attachment. Loyal enough to obey me even when I asked him to murder the one person that mattered in his world.”


“You.” Hermione’s cold anger thawed a little at the look on the Headmaster’s face. “Did he know you’d live?


“He knew there was a risk involved - that I mightn’t have risen from the ashes after all. Because there was that risk, he didn’t want to do it; he’d have chosen to break the Unbreakable Vow he’d made to Draco’s mother and die, himself. That is the level of his dedication. That is the value he places on his own life. I made him promise. Not with an Unbreakable Vow,” he said with a sad smile. “As I said, he is unfailingly loyal. I knew if I had his solemn promise, he would do as I asked.”


She hadn’t realized she was crying until Professor Dumbledore pressed an ornately embroidered handkerchief into her hand. Once she’d wiped her tears wetting her cheeks, she said, “After you…died, Professor McGonagall was just as shocked and upset as the rest of us. Hadn’t you told her?”


“No one knew but Severus and myself,” Dumbledore replied.


“So, had you not lived or…been reborn, that is,” Hermione said, “no one would have ever known that Severus was just following your orders! You really are ruthless, aren’t you?” Hermione breathed out. “Had your plan failed, he would have had no choice but to truly ally himself with Voldemort or be a fugitive from both sides for the rest of his life!”


“I have ruthlessly used Severus, it’s true,” Dumbledore said, “but his innocence would have been made known to one person had I not returned. That person was to keep silent on the subject and carry on, as I had, using him as a double agent.”


“Professor McGonagall.”


“Precisely. I arranged for her to know if I didn’t return.” Dumbledore drank the last mouthful of wine in his goblet. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done, but there’s little I would change under the circumstances. The future of the entire wizarding world hangs in the balance. You’re a smart young woman, Hermione; I think you realize the fate of the Muggle world hinges on Lord Voldemort’s defeat as well. As much as I would like to protect those I love, it’s my duty to protect everyone. One does not fail to use a weapon merely because it’s valued.”


Dumbledore studied the inside of his empty wine glass before spelling it away. “It’s true: Severus has sacrificed much for others without benefit of their gratitude. He has been very much alone throughout his life. That is why I’m glad, my dear, that you feel as you do. He deserves some gratitude, some loyalty – someone to care about him - in return.”


She held his gaze for a moment before they both turned to study the dying flames. For a time, they were lost in their own thoughts. Then, the grandfather clock in the corner softly chimed two and Dumbledore stirred.


“I should be off to bed,” the white-haired wizard announced, rising to his feet, “or Minerva will scold me for taxing myself. I’m not yet my former self, I’m afraid. Oh! Before I forget, I came looking for you to speak with you about an entirely different matter. Your results came back and you passed your NEWTs with flying colors.” He removed a rolled parchment from the folds of his robes and handed it to her. “In fact, you not only earned an Outstanding in Advanced Potions, your score was perfect.”


He walked to the door but paused inside the portal. “Also,” he said pulling her eyes away from the parchment in her hand, “I thought you should know, Severus spoke this afternoon after your visit.”


“What?” she cried, shooting to her feet. The parchment fell, unnoticed, to the chair. “What did he say?”


“Only one word, I’m afraid…although, I understand he repeated it a number of times. I don’t want to get your hopes up, my dear, but I’d encourage you to visit again soon.” He smiled as she glanced back at the clock. “It’s late, but morning will soon be upon us. Perhaps you’ll want to retire for the evening, too?”