In September, my studies began, and I immediately had less time. Thanks to my phenomenal memory - the material was easily memorized, and thanks to my practice at the magical hospital - anatomy couldn't impress me at all. Except for the smell of formaldehyde. But weakened fresh air charms locally around one's head work wonders and are completely unnoticeable. And I already more or less knew Latin after studying magical medicine books. But it was still quite tough. I had grown unaccustomed to intense work.
Susan left for Beauxbatons, and I rented a small apartment. It was time to live separately - it's not proper to bring guests to your parents' house. Especially considering that some guests are wizards. The apartment has two bedrooms - for me and for Susan, and a large kitchen combined with a living room.
A new name appeared on the Blacks' tapestry. Nymph, though she went to another family, is still a Black through her mother. She gave birth to a son. Edward Nott. There was no other information about Tonks. Perhaps at Christmas Theo would write something else to Draco - there were simply no other sources left.
In a couple of magical publications, there was a brief note about Gregorovich's death - a talented craftsman whose wands are deservedly considered among the best. Voldemort is still following the trail of the Elder Wand. So it wasn't him who broke into the headmaster's grave.
Harry and Ron quarreled with Sirius over his wife's new book and ran away from the house on Grimmauld Place. Though Rita doesn't even live there now. Children can't sit at home all the time, they need to walk around. And it's much safer to walk around in France. Lupin also went on a journey to look after the teenagers. Moony and Padfoot exchange patronuses daily, but now they're searching for horcruxes in two independent groups.
"Trials" of Muggle-borns began in England. That is, people were simply caught and thrown into Azkaban, so many Muggle-borns took to the run. However, for a large bribe, the sickeningly sweet pink filth was ready to "make" a mudblood into a half-blood. Now even in the wizarding world, without papers you're nobody. But Justin is fine - maybe his father gave a bribe too or somehow else arranged things.
After another article in the Quibbler in the style of: Death Eaters are bad, Harry Potter is great, I sent a letter to Xenophilius. Not caring about politeness, I wrote to him that he was a bad father, that his daughter is now at a school where Death Eaters teach, and they can do whatever they want with her. And he prints such things. Let Professor Snape be her mentor and not harm Luna, but nothing stops Amycus and Alecto Carrow.
Cruciatus punishments were introduced at school. Snape protects students as he can, takes them for detention with himself. But his detentions are not something that can out-stubborn teenagers who have embarked on the path of war, so the young rebels try again, and again, and again, until they finally run into cruciatus from the Carrows. After the first crucio, revolutionary moods in most subside. Luna wrote to me that Neville and Ginny wanted to steal Gryffindor's sword from Snape but were caught. Luna tried to explain to them that Snape isn't as bad as they think, but for this Luna was expelled from the conspirators' club. After all, she's Snape's student - so she's a traitor. Neville also wrote to me about this event; from his side, everything looked completely different. He didn't appreciate that the young thieves were merely made to scrub cauldrons, and began to regard Luna with great suspicion.
Luna's opinion convinces me much more than Dumbledore's letter. Even if Luna can't read the minds of Occlumens, she feels real emotions through any mental shield. Snape is not on Voldemort's side. We should talk. But how? He can't leave England, I can't come there.
***
But during Christmas holidays, Snape came. A silver doe flew to me and said in Snape's voice that he was waiting for me at the North Station in Paris.
At the station, a colorful whirlwind crashed into me and squeezed me in an embrace. Carefully, so Luna wouldn't notice, I put the wand that had jumped into my palm back in its holster. And here's Professor Snape. How long haven't we seen each other - a year and a half? But it seems he aged ten years.
"Miss Granger, please take care of Miss Lovegood in repayment of the life debt."
Unexpected.
"Uh... yes, Professor, but... Luna, why are you here? And your father?"
"Professor Snape said it was dangerous for me in England," Luna glanced at Snape displeasedly. Probably the professor didn't just say but ordered, as a mentor, "and Dad decided to stay."
"The Dark Lord became interested in Miss Lovegood's abilities," Snape condescended to explain, "especially since her family is still under surveillance after articles in honor of Potter, which Mr. Lovegood continued to print until mid-autumn."
"Our train went through a tunnel under the sea!" Luna shares her impressions.
Snape rolls his eyes. Obviously, absolutely everything irritates him now: Luna, her father, the weather, work, Voldemort, and France. Well, and I always irritate him. He should punch a boxing bag - let off steam. Or blow up mannequins with bombarda. You could even stick photographs on the mannequins: Voldemort, Bella, Potter, Dumbledore.
"And how did you explain to Vold... your superiors?" - better not say the name. Especially since Snape's mark hurts at the word "Voldemort."
"Had to say that Miss Lovegood caught scrofungulus from Mr. Weasley. Lucky they're neighbors. And I sent her for treatment to France."
"Professor, I need to talk to you seriously."
"About what, Miss Granger?"
I felt ashamed for a moment - wanting something from a person on whose shoulders lies all the weariness of the world.
"Well, about stags..."
"Fine," Snape winces, "I need to make a series of purchases anyway. Help Miss Lovegood get settled. Meet me here at eight in the evening."
And he Disapparates.
Good thing all magical medics are taught paired Apparition, you never know how you might need to transport a patient. Because I don't want to call Bunny - in that case Rita will know in a minute and rush to our house to find out details.
For now, Luna will have to sleep on the sofa in the living room. But Susan already offered to take her room when she returns to Beauxbatons. Interesting, will she tell Luna about her friendship with Draco? Amazing how these people managed to become friends at all. Their loved ones died on different sides of the barricade, but this didn't separate them, somehow brought them closer. Though now Draco wants Voldemort's fall no less than Susan herself. In the first days of the school year, Malfoy helped Susan get settled at Beauxbatons - he'd already studied there for a year and knew everything.
"Luna, you know I'd gladly help you without any life debt?"
"I know," Luna answered dreamily, "and Professor Snape knows. But he said that the life debt doesn't give you peace, and in your desire to mutually save a life as quickly as possible, you might mess up again. And he doesn't have time for that."
Incredible.
***
In the evening I meet with the professor. We choose quiet streets, snow falls in soft flakes, there aren't many people now - Christmas is already behind us, and the main rush has subsided. It's hard to start this conversation.
"Professor, are you still planning to help Potter kill You-Know-Who?"
"What makes you think that?" Snape asks with a smirk, "have you already forgotten that it was I who killed Albus Dumbledore? And if the Dark Lord hadn't come to power, I would be the most wanted criminal in magical England. You keep clinging to your stupid Order, but you must understand that it's always better to be on the winning side."
"The Order is much more yours than mine," I mutter, "you killed the headmaster at his request, didn't you?"
In the same second I found myself pressed against the wet wall of a house, my right arm twisted, and Snape's wand pressed against my throat.
"Ow, what are you doing?!"
"Hermione Granger has no reason to ask such questions," Snape hisses. His face is completely white, eyes black and frightening, "Miss Granger simply wanted to settle the life debt. Who are you? Where is Miss Lovegood?"
"And how could I forget about your paranoia?" I drawled and immediately shrieked from pain, "Ow-ow-ow, you're about to pierce my throat without any magic!"
The pressure of the wand decreased slightly, but with such crazy eyes he'd only throw cruciatus or open minds with legilimency. Logical, it's hard to suppose that Miss Granger has any information of this kind. It's much more probable that someone wanted to test Snape, and he got scared for Luna. After all, because of his spying, neither side fully trusted him. I should have given him the letter to read immediately.
"I swear by magic that Albus Dumbledore himself wrote to me in a letter about his request to you. Lumos!" I light a ball of light on my left hand that remained free, "Nox!"
A rather loose text for an oath, but Snape releases me. Good thing he didn't demand details.
"You're a fool, Professor!" I rub my neck. "And now there'll be a bruise."
"A magical medic can heal such a bruise in five seconds, so everything is in your hands."
Yes, it would be stupid to think that with mental training, a mentor wouldn't know something that a student knows. Damn, it turns out now he'll find out where Susan and I live.
"So what did you want to talk about?"
"You know, sir, perhaps I was hasty when I decided you could be trusted."
"You're still alive, and I still haven't climbed into your stupid head - isn't that reason for trust?"
I look grimly at this joker.
"Well, fine... I swear by magic, I intend to help Mr. Potter destroy the Dark Lord and won't change my decision. Lumos! Nox! Satisfied?"
"You know that Harry is a horcrux?" the professor winces but nods, "and you know that Dumbledore wants You-Know-Who to cast avada at Potter?"
"Amazing that you know about this, Miss Granger. Who would have thought that the headmaster chose you as his confidant. You didn't seem to get along very well... Well, continue."
"But you don't want this, sir?"
"One might think there's some choice."
"I can suggest another option."
"Well, well... and what would that be?"
"There were other horcruxes..."
"Were?" he emphasizes with intonation.
"Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem, Slytherin's locket, the old diary, the ring," won't mention the snake yet. Besides, the local Voldemort might not have made her a horcrux, "These horcruxes are already destroyed. The headmaster destroyed the ring at the cost of his life. Probably Harry is the last horcrux. If the Lord hasn't made new horcruxes."
"Doubtful. Albus said that the last horcrux was created involuntarily, because too little soul remained with the Dark Lord. No one has described such a phenomenon yet - creating a horcrux is quite a meticulous ritual. But the headmaster managed to find this out by examining the Potter child and the murder site. Creating several more threatens that a soul fragment won't be able to hold to a body at all. But this changes nothing, Miss Granger - even one horcrux is enough for the Dark Lord to be reborn."
"But you can simply not let him be reborn! Someday Harry will age and die, the last horcrux will die with him, and the Dark Lord will disappear."
"That's a very big risk, Miss Granger. Potter is not master of his own mind. If the horcrux attracts the spirit of the killed Lord, he can easily take over Potter."
"And what if your Lord isn't able to do this? What if we erase all his memory before killing him? At St. Mungo's, victims of complete obliviation remain forever in the ward for hopeless patients. Well, let a completely mad spirit fly around somewhere on Earth..."
"And how do you propose to pull this off? The Dark Lord never turns his back to servants. Never lets his wand out of his hands. No one will be able to get close enough to him for obliviation."
"You can get close to him if you mortally wound him first. And in the last minutes of life erase his identity..."
"Now I understand, Miss Granger, you didn't get enough spy games in childhood. With such plots you should only write books, in Lockhart's style," the professor stamps contemptuously.
During our conversation we went deep into some park, there are no people around, so no one pays attention to the strange conversation, though the last few minutes we've been arguing in raised voices.
"Damn it! It's completely unnecessary to kill the Lord magically. You can make a trap. Suppose he'll recognize a magical trap, but a Muggle one? Sirius and I already blew up his snake, by the way. And the cup. There was a magical part there, but you can make the same bombs completely without magic..."
"Don't get involved in this, Miss Granger. You understand absolutely nothing."
"But I want to help you!"
"I don't need..." the professor hesitates for a second, apparently thinking of an offensive epithet for me.
"Help from a disgusting little mudblood?" oh, why did I say that?! What kind of person am I?!
"Lily..." Snape croaks and grabs my hands.
From the face of a man who aged too early, unhappy sick eyes look at me.
Definitely, I'm a bad person.
Ow! Still, the professor will cripple me today. Piercing my throat didn't work out, now he's squeezing my fingers so hard he'll break them now. And I can't break free.
"Let go, please... Professor!" he doesn't hear, "Severus, let go! It hurts!"
"Lily," he repeats, releasing his hands.
"I'm not Lily... Sorry," it seems they don't believe me. I know how to drive everyone to distraction, what horror, "I can't be Lily. When I was born, Lily was still alive..."
We're silent for about five minutes, I look at Snape, Snape looks through the snow.
"Sometimes you're very much like her... Lily also recklessly strove to help everyone, was just as brave to the point of stupidity. She was also smart when it came to studies, and also completely unwilling to calculate in advance what her desperate actions might turn into. Believed there was always a right choice. Fought Death Eaters while pregnant... fool! For instance, this frankness of yours... simply suicidal. It would be right to erase your memory, all knowledge about horcruxes - can't allow the Lord to learn this information. But you know too much and, apparently, have known for a long time. A small memory of one conversation can be erased without problems, but erasing a very large piece... that can cripple the mind. All that remains is to hope you have enough sense not to return to England while he's alive. The Lord himself won't go to the continent for one runaway girl."
I grow cold, realizing that just now I miraculously avoided the fate of Lockhart's victims. I didn't think about this at all. And it's true, in canon Dumbledore didn't do Occlumency with Potter himself so that Voldemort wouldn't accidentally learn some of the headmaster's plans through Harry. And Harry was told he was a horcrux at the very end.
"Though in some ways completely different," the professor returns to the previous theme, "you're not so categorical, you're more flexible. It's easier for you to accept others and easier to negotiate with your own conscience... But character similarities are nonsense. You cared for Potter as if he were your relative. Not a friend - what kind of friend is he to you, you have nothing in common with him! You made him a Muggle-repelling amulet, and then completely negotiated with Petunia and made his life with relatives quite bearable - that's perhaps the most significant thing anyone could do for him at that moment. You arranged holidays for him on birthdays, bought warm clothes, made his worthless godfather send Potter for examination to St. Mungo's... You helped him choose the right subjects in third year, and during the Tournament convinced Diggory to teach spells to that small champion - I don't understand how you managed it, Diggory was firmly set on victory and unlikely to want to help his rival himself. Finally, you saved Potter from universal ostracism in second year, and it was quite probable, if I know wizards at all... But you never climbed into close friends, didn't strive to share his adventures, didn't claim close communication - you were obviously uninterested. I saw this from the very beginning. Before you suggested he wear the heir's set, anyone could look into his head with superficial legilimency. Not a head, but a thoroughfare, honestly! And in legilimency lessons I saw everything else too. This was adult care for a child. And you know! You know too much. I saw you through Potter's eyes at his blood test. You weren't surprised because you knew in advance that Black is Harry's godfather and that he's innocent. And that damn Marauder's Map! Where did you get it?! How did you find out about it?! You drove me crazy by being so similar, but at some moments I saw nothing in common. And by knowing things that Miss Granger can't know, but Miss Evans quite could have known. I tried to find her in your memory... Explain to me, finally, what relation you have to Lily Potter?!" toward the end the professor began speaking quickly, emotionally, almost shouting. He never was like this.
Damn, damn, damn! I really had to provoke the man like this! On my grave they'll write: "Life taught her nothing."
Though Snape too - why the hell did he climb into my memory in third year, if it had turned out to be Lily, she would never have forgiven him. Or did he plan to obliviate that moment, but I managed to shock him and escape? Most likely. Erasing an event that just happened is harmless. If you don't consider the moral aspect, and wizards don't consider it. But the further in the past a memory is, the more dangerous it is to erase it.
"I have no relation to her at all. I'm very sorry, Professor! Very sorry that I involuntarily reminded you... opened old wounds. But I'm not her! These are just coincidences. I can give an oath that I'm not Lily..."
"Don't bother," Snape is silent again for a long time, "if you're ready to give an oath, there's no point in it... Figuring out everything else... damn it all to Mordred! Obliviate!"
I dodged because I expected something like this. What a pest! He should vent to his cauldron if he wants to leave no witnesses. Dodged again from incarcerous, threw a weak lightning bolt in response, which he caught on a shield. But with a gun I would have gotten him already. Though if he wasn't afraid to wound me, he would have gotten me too.
We dance for about three minutes. I'm already throwing whatever I can - whatever's convenient from my current position. The professor still uses nothing more serious than expelliarmus and incarcerous. Yes, those training sessions in the Room of Requirement weren't in vain... thanks to them I can heroically delay my end by a couple of minutes. Too bad you can't Apparate without concentration. I don't have time to put up shields at such speed, have to dodge, jump away from another beam, and another one already flew to the place where I jumped. Petrificus Totalus.
I hate you, Professor. But I can't say it under the spell...
***
It's a pity Professor Snape turned out to be so stubborn. He didn't want to discuss anything at all. In parting, he briefly thanked me for helping Luna and said that now there are no debts between us. Apparating home, I checked myself with a diagnostic spell. Yes, the professor spoke the verbal formula, and I'm finally free. I'm sad that Snape will most likely die. But now the maximum this threatens me with is bad emotions. No dangerous backlash.
But something else wouldn't give me peace. It scratched at the edge of consciousness.
***
Bastard! Son of a bitch! Big-nosed freak!
I raged around the room in fury. It was obliviation! During evening meditation I discovered some unevenness in my memory. As if, running my hand over a smooth surface, I tore my fingers on a metal burr. Some recording defect. And this defect is in the middle of the conversation with Snape! The Prior Incantato spell revealed that today my wand was used for a lot of magic. I remember the last two spells: diagnostic and Apparition, and before that - many battle spells and quite serious ones. If this was in the middle of the conversation with Snape, I probably fought with Snape. And what did that bastard do to me that he needed to erase the memory? I should have hit him! Not even with magic. Right in the nose with my boot! And maybe not only the nose - I don't know what he erased! I diagnosed myself - I was fine. Listened to sensations - seemed normal, felt slight pain in ligaments, as if I'd done stretching without warming up. Cast detection charms on my jacket. It had recently been cleaned and dried with magic. And nothing else. We had a training duel, and then something went wrong, and Snape erased that piece? I checked my weapon - no, it hadn't been fired today.
As bad luck would have it, Monsieur de Flois is on vacation during Christmas holidays, and I can't remove this obliviation myself. I'll have to wait.