Battle Scars

The day wore on, and Hermione invisibly followed Severus. He did indeed seem true to his word, meeting a few men that Hermione knew were from one of the bigger wizarding colleges in London. She drifted, sitting a few tables away in the pub, as they droned on about Potions and politics. She felt guilty, and her heart still ached. If he wasn’t unfaithful to her, then maybe his feelings had just faded. Despite her greatest efforts, a tear silently trickled down her face.

Around four, Severus finally left. Dejected, she followed him out, feeling pathetic and lost. He apparated, and she expected to track him back near Hogwarts. But her charm showed him in Hogsmeade. Despite her instinct telling her to return to Hogwarts and give him the benefit of the doubt, Hermione followed.

He entered the Hogs’ Head, and Lucius Malfoy cheerlessly waved him over. Lucius was with a man Hermione recognized- MacNair, the Death Eater who was to execute Buckbeak. Her stomach lurched, and a million thoughts raced through her mind.

Voldemort was dead, gone. Why was he with these people? She sat as nearby as she could without being detected, but was unable to hear any of what they were saying. They conversed for about an hour, and then Lucius led Severus away from the table and up the stairs.

Hermione followed, but they had the advantage of longer legs. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, Lucius had closed the door. Placing her ear against it, she was dismayed to find she could hear nothing of their discussion. She sat up against the wall in the narrow hallway, and pulled her knees into her chest. Gryffindor curiosity was eating at her, but she could do nothing but wait. She sat there interminably, occasionally peeking in the tiny, grubby window in the door, but she could only see two men deep in conversation.

She admired her husband, his broad shoulders and curtain of shiny hair. As he spoke, she imagined the way his voice sounded, the soft silk of it belying his derisive words. He and Lucius appeared to be disagreeing. Severus had his back to the window, but she could see Lucius assuming his look of patent superciliousness.

Lucius Malfoy. Hermione had no idea that her husband was still associating with erstwhile Death Eaters. She was completely assured in his loyalty to Dumbledore, so the only conclusion she could reasonably deduce was that he was still spying. On what, though? She felt at once sick with worry and anger. How could he keep something so immense from her? How could he put himself in danger so frequently when he now had a wife and children? What would she do if anything happened to him?

She crawled back into her corner and huddled up under the cloak. She had no idea what she was waiting for, why she continued to watch him. She’d been gone ages, and she was clueless as to what she would say to Severus when she got home. She felt as if she hardly knew him, his surreptitious activities driving them apart as surely as any infidelity.

Infidelity. Her thoughts swung back to that morning, when all she was worried about was another woman. She could at least be relieved in this, that he was not in the company of any other women. Her musings were interrupted by the soft sound of someone climbing the stairs.

Hermione pulled in further as the person approached. A woman, tall and dark, with sleepy eyes and long black hair, came slowly down the hallway. She had a slightly askew look about her, as if she were just ever so slightly not right. Hermione stared at her for a minute before she realized whom she was seeing. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bella walked over to the door and opened it, not bothering to knock. Hermione could hear her soft, throaty whisper clearly. “Lucius, I’d like to have a word with Severus... alone,” Bella held the door open as Lucius left, looking clearly affronted. As soon as he was safely out of earshot, Hermione resumed scr scrutiny through the tiny window.

She examined Bella, hatred coursing through her body. Hermione wanted nothing more at that moment than to grab her by the hair and scratch her eyes out. This woman had caused so much grief in the Order, and Severus was chatting to her as if it were nothing. Hermione studied the woman who was now standing dangerously close to her husband. She was painfully thin, which served to make Hermione even more acutely aware of the softness that still clung to her body ages after she’d had children. Although gaunt, Bella retained a haughtiness that Hermione knew men found irresistible.

Hermione continued to watch them converse, and Bella continued to work her way closer to Severus. It was agonizing to observe, but she was unable to look away. It looked to Hermione as if Severus was inching in the other direction, but she partly thought this might be wishful thinking.

Bella sat on the table in front of him, and reached over. She tangled her hand into his hair, and Hermione’s heart began to race. He swatted her hand away, and Hermione watched as she clearly became incensed. Bella reached over again, her expression clearly daring him to reject her once more. Severus stood up, knocking his chair over. Hermione watched in dread as Bella smiled, read her lips as they formed one word.

”Imperio.”