Voice of Truth by Ginny_W
Chapter Notes: GOF quote from chapter 13: “I’m warning you, Peeves””
GinnyW’s Notes: Another evil ending. Sorry about that. Well… not really. ;-)
“Oh, and don’t tell me,” Harry mockingly says. “You went back the next year. I’m surprised that you’re still among the living, or have I been friends with nothing more than an apparition these last two years?”
“Of course I went back! By that point, it was becoming a compulsion. I knew that there was something to be learned, and by God, I wanted to learn it,” I say with fierce determination. I’m surprised that Harry doesn’t jump up and begin ranting, but he shows an amazing amount of self-control. It’s about bloody time, I find myself thinking.
“Fine, Hermione. What did you learn?” He almost sounds resigned now. I’m happy about that. It means that he’ll likely be able to accept the rest of my story.
“Well, I did what he said,” I reply. “I went to the headmistress and requested to look at Dumbledore’s memoirs…”
Hermione left the graveyard that afternoon more perplexed than she’d ever been before. She made her way to the victory celebration and left as soon as was socially acceptable, feigning a touch of a bellyache to aid her excuse.
Once home, she began writing down everything that she remembered about Severus Snape. She wrote everything from the spells that Harry learned in their sixth year book, Advanced Potion-Making, to the information that she’d dug up on his family. Hermione also wrote down, in as much detail as possible, every pertinent encounter that she could recall with the man ” what he looked like, smelled like, and his surly attitude. No matter how hard she tried, things just weren’t adding up in her mind.
It was a couple of months before the school was opened again, and she had a few days off in a row to allow the time to stay there. She ventured back to Hogsmeade and up towards her alma mater. Hermione had owled Headmistress McGonagall and informed her of her desire to visit. So when Hermione arrived at the gates to the grounds, she found Neville Longbottom there to greet her.
Neville was now the Herbology professor at Hogwarts, though Hermione was surprised to see that it was him who came to greet her at the gates.
“Neville, it’s so good too see you,” Hermione said with a smile.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Good morning, Hermione. Classes haven’t started yet, and when Professor McGonagall told me you were due to visit this morning, I asked to be the one to welcome you.”
Hermione preferred Neville coming to greet her as opposed to Charlie Weasley, the current Care of Magical Creatures professor and Keeper of the Keys. Charlie looked quite a bit like Ron, and he was just as flirtatious. At the Remembrance Celebration, Charlie had asked Hermione out. Their date had been extremely awkward, and Hermione later vowed to never date a former boyfriend’s brother.
Neville carried on a one-sided conversation with her. He discussed his latest plants, experiments, and tales involving the joys of teaching. For a brief period, after school, Hermione had entertained the idea of teaching. However, listening to her friend go on, she was very glad that she’d not followed through with that. She was quite happy in her current position. The day-to-day drama of hormonal teenagers would be more than she could handle, at least at this point in her life. Perhaps a few years down the road she would change her mind.
They entered the main doors.
“I’m warning you, Peeves”” came the snappish voice of Professor McGonagall.
The poltergeist was floating above the doors to the Great Hall, and it appeared he had just doused a group of first years with ink. Hermione gave another silent prayer of thanks for her foresight at choosing another career, as she walked over to the cranky headmistress.
Peeves blew raspberries at the headmistress and took off to wreak havoc on another part of the castle. It was then that Professor McGonagall noticed her former student. “Oh, Miss Granger! Good morning,” she said. “Come along, I have tea waiting for us up in my office.”
Hermione turned, thanked Neville for walking her in, and followed the older witch up to her office.
Once they were settled in the headmistress’ office, drinking tea, and the pleasant chatter was done with, Hermione broached the subject that she’d come there for.
“Professor,” she began, “I actually had an ulterior motive for coming.”
“I would be surprised if it were otherwise,” came McGonagall’s reply, though there was sly smile playing about her lips.
“Of course,” Hermione replied with a grin. “I actually wanted to know if you had a copy of Professor Dumbledore’s memoirs, journal, or whatever it was that he kept.”
“I do, but why ever would you need them, Miss Granger?”
“I’m doing some research on Dark curses and hexes. I believe that there may be some information in the old headmaster’s writings that may help me with a particular puzzle that I’m working on now,” she supplied easily.
“You lied!” shouts Harry.
“I did not,” I counter. “If you didn’t know, Harry, I’m always doing research on Dark curses and hexes ” seeing as that’s my job! And I never said that it was Dumbledore’s memoirs that would help me in that research.”
I smile smugly as Harry sits back in his chair, defeated.
Professor McGonagall eyed the younger witch carefully before she slowly rose from her chair and walked over to the bookcase, pulling out a tattered leather bound book. “I will let you look it over, Miss Granger, but I ask that you not remove it from the school. It’s rather particular, you see. When I first found it, I tried to take it with me to the cemetery. I thought it would be comforting to read it while sitting at Albus’ grave. As soon as I tried to leave through the doors, the ruddy book began screaming as if it were a Mandrake. Since then, I’ve tried several things, and it refuses to leave the school via any conventional method: Floo and Portkey. I even tried having a house-elf attempt to Apparate with it.”
Hermione gave her a curious look. “I understand, Professor. As I told you in my letter, I’m actually planning on staying for a day or two. I’d like to make use of the library as well.”
“Of course, of course. I had Argus air out one of the guest rooms for you. I hope that you find what you’re looking for.”
“Me too,” Hermione replied softly.
“I spent three days at Hogwarts. Most of the time I was copying Dumbledore’s writings, but I also looked up a few hexes and curses in the Restricted Section. It may interest you to know that I went to the Room of Requirement, too,” I say pointedly.
Harry’s eyes narrow, and he shakes his head in disgust. It’s obvious that he knows what I’m going to say. “It sounds to me, Hermione, that you were becoming quite obsessed with the greasy bastard. What good would his book be?”
“I was looking for breadcrumbs that would lead me to Severus’ true allegiances. I felt that I needed both Dumbledore’s memoirs and Severus’ old schoolbook to help me.” I sigh softly. “I knew it was doubtful, but a small part of me was hoping that I’d find the words, Snape is innocent, written down. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that was exactly possible, especially since McGonagall had already read them. What I did find was details on the curse that affected him when he retrieved the first Horcrux. Dumbledore had outlined everything that happened from the Dark Magic and how Severus had saved his life.” I pause and glare at my friend now. “Cripes! You’d think I was saying Voldemort. Severus, Severus, SEVERUS! Bloody hell, Harry, get over yourself!”
I don’t remember getting to my feet, but I’m now standing directly in front of Harry’s chair and leaning towards him. I fight back a growl as I step back. Losing my temper is something that I don’t do often, but it truly can be volatile when I do. I force myself to mutter an apology and plop back into my chair.
His eyes narrow, as his glare intensifies. “Just how well do you know Severus?” he spits at me.
The words, You don’t really want to know, flash through my head, but I think better of saying them. I rub my face with my hands. I finally decide that it’s best to go back to telling my story.
When Snape had first told Hermione that he’d not meet with her until the following year, she’d wondered what she’d do with her questions and information in that timeframe. She was surprised then to find that she spent the first several months just trying to make sense of Dumbledore’s writings and double entendre. When she’d been at the school, she’d used a sort of Dicta-Quill that copied his journal directly to her own parchments. Thankfully, the copies she’d made did not object to leaving the school grounds.
She now had reams of notes from the Dark Magic that had been coursing through the former headmaster’s veins for their entire sixth year. The headmaster had indeed been quite ill during their sixth year. The dead arm that hung limply from his body was but a small fraction of the Dark Magic was eating away at the rest of his body. He had described pains in his chest, abdomen, legs, and had gone so far as to wear a glamour to keep the appearance that he still had a full head of hair at the time of his death. Apparently Dumbledore had worried that if the Order of the Phoenix thought that he was so deathly ill, then they would not have as much faith in him, and consequently, not have the faith in Harry.
Of course, Dumbledore never came out and directly said any of this. It was all written in small pieces here and there, scattered throughout the year. He would have a page that spoke about what he’d told specific Order members at a meeting, and then at the bottom of the page, he would write something like: My heart continues to ache for my foolishness of visiting the House of Gaunt.
It took Hermione a long time to figure out what Dumbledore was saying. She doubted it was something that Minerva would ever pick up on either. It was never indicated that Dumbledore mentioned anything about the Horcruxes to anyone other than Harry. And then, the Horcruxes were only mentioned as artifacts that belonged to Voldemort, nothing more. Harry never divulged their existence either. They were all afraid that others may be demented enough to try to create them themselves. She shuddered at the idea of Lucius Malfoy creating himself a Horcrux.
Hermione did, however, suspect that Snape had learned of them. Something in the writings suggested that Snape had helped Dumbledore destroy the soul trapped within the ring. But Hermione decided she’d need to speak with her old professor before she decided if that was a fact.
On the desk that she’d set aside for this research project sat the Half-Blood Prince’s copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Hermione had remembered Harry detailing where he’d stashed it when Snape had caught him after hexing Draco back in school. She wasn’t sure what, but she was hoping that she’d find some clue to the man’s personality hidden within its pages.
Between work and researching for Snape, Hermione had very little free time. Before she knew it, the war’s anniversary was upon her. The bundle of nerves within her belly refused to calm as she prepared herself for her meeting. Making pat excuses to her friends and carrying an oversized handbag stuffed full with her notes, Hermione sat anxiously through the service. Once everyone began to make their way to the celebratory feast, she forced herself to calmly walk among the tombstones towards Albus Dumbledore’s grave.