A/N: This story was written for Keladry_Lupin for the Summer 2007 SS/HG Exchange. It is completely written and I will post it over the next couple of weeks. :)
Thanks go out to my alpha and beta readers while I was working on this project. JuneW, DeeMichelle, Subversa, Cocoachristy, Minuet99 & Ferporcel. They are a wonderful group of friends and I appreciate the correcting, advice and hand-holding from each of them.
Chapter 6: I'm Wishing
Hermione knew that she should've been worried the moment that Ron and Ginny decided to team up together to take care of things for her. Truly, she wasn't sure who was the more worried about the two siblings' self-appointed cause, her or Harry. Harry still wasn't overly excited over the idea of Hermione having anything more than a professional relationship with Snape. Honestly, Hermione wasn't all that certain why Ron or Ginny had taken to the idea so quickly. When she'd asked them, Ginny had said that she had seen a sparkle in Hermione's eyes when she was talking about him that she instantly knew that it was the right thing to do. Ron, on the other hand, had mumbled something about owing her and that he just wanted her to be happy.
The only thing she could think of that Ron would be grateful about was that she'd introduced him to his girlfriend, Carol, who he never would've met otherwise. Hermione had to admit that they were rather good together. Ron had been much less controlling since they'd gone their separate ways, lending again to the theory that he always had been rather jealous. They were both happier now.
No amount of convincing would change either of the two Weasleys' minds. After several days, Hermione finally resigned herself to working herself to the point of exhaustion followed by going to the Ministry's ball.
As part of Ron and Ginny's efforts, Hermione received rather nicer gifts for Christmas than she had expected. Fred and George, who were still grateful to her for keeping the secrets that she held, had purchased her a new set of dress robes in a deep blue colour, very similar to the ones she'd worn in her dreams. Ginny and Harry had given her a black formal cloak to go with her dress robes with a small silver clasp.
Ron had given her a small gold locket. On one side was engraved a crossed wand and bone—the St Mungo's emblem; on the other were her initials. Ironically, the monogram had the same flaw as it had in her dream; the letters were out of order, although she didn't tell Ron that. What had been surprising about it was that the fact that she had dreamt about a monogrammed charm at all was a detail that Hermione had left out of the story that she'd told her friends. There was no way that anyone could've known about it… yet, here it was.
Ginny had then insisted on taking Hermione shopping to buy shoes and some new cosmetics to complete the ensemble.
Ron had spoken with Tonks and together they had procured Hermione a small bottle of the potion that he'd told her about. Ron had been correct, the Invigoration Draught’s energising effects weren't as long as she'd been hoping for, but he insisted that two hours would be sufficient time to snag herself a Snape if she really tried. The term made her feel as if she were fishing. And who, in their right mind, would actually fish in hopes of catching that greasy grouchy git?
Obviously, Hermione wasn't in her right mind.
She spent the remaining fortnight until New Year's Eve trying to talk herself out of the insane idea. She was wholly unsuccessful. Just after Christmas, she had even received a note from Mrs Graham asking Hermione if she'd thought more on the discussion they'd had and what Hermione was planning on doing about it. The woman had gone so far as to strongly urge Hermione to attend the masquerade ball that was being held by the Ministry because it so perfectly mirrored Hermione's dreams that it almost seemed as if it were destined.
Yes, it was destined all right… destined to be a disaster, Hermione was certain.
Despite that, on the 30th of December, Hermione left for her shift at St Mungo's and began her thirty-six hour trek until Friday night.
~~~
“Severus, there is no one else available to do this,” Minerva insisted to a glowering Snape. “You saw Professor Durham just this afternoon. There is no way that he can take her; he'd infect half of the guests at the ball.”
That stupid house-elf carried disease was back again. Severus still remembered the effects of the illness from when it had been at the school back in October. It was not something that he wished to repeat. It was for that reason that he'd not gone too close to Durham's quarantined room. Severus had simply stood at the threshold of the door just to see that the other wizard was indeed ill.
Unfortunately he was.
Thus the reason for Severus' current predicament: How to get out of escorting Minerva's niece to the Ministry's New Year's Eve ball which was set to begin in just over an hour?
“I have work to get done tonight and you know that there are some things that I can only accomplish when those dunderheaded students aren't here.”
“It's a holiday, Severus. Not only is tomorrow a Saturday, but it is also New Year's Day. I'm positive that you don't have anything so pressing that can't wait until Monday.”
“I am not going to the ball, Minerva. Why don't you escort your niece? I'm sure that she'll have a lovely time with you.”
“I have to stay here tonight, and you know it. Poppy needs my help. I would send all of the male professors out of the school until we're certain we have this infection under control, but thankfully all of the rest of them are already home with their families. I'm just glad that there aren't any male students staying over the Christmas holidays.”
Severus growled under his breath. Time for a new tactic.
“Minerva, your niece is a very lovely young woman. Don't you think that she will be horrified to hear she is going to attend with me? She would do much better for herself if she were to go alone. There is no shame in a woman attending such an event without an escort in this day and age.”
“Don't you even start with me, Severus. You're a war hero. Most any woman would be thrilled to attend with you.... Well, at least until you spoke more than three words to them and they discovered what an arse you really are. And I know that you wouldn't dare speak to my niece in such a way. After all, you owe me for allowing you to skive off the staff Christmas party by feigning a migraine.”
“There was no feigning involved. I assure you that it would have taken no more than ten minutes in a roomful of those idiots and I would have developed a migraine,” Severus muttered.
Minerva choked back a small laugh which only caused Severus to grumble even louder.
“You're going to the ball tonight,” she next said, firmly.
“I am going back to my quarters and packing a few things and then I'm going home until Durham is better, Minerva,” he replied smoothly as he turned to sweep out of the room.
“Severus. Do not forget that it is because of me that you are not presently rotting away in Azkaban.”
He turned and snarled at the portrait hanging behind Minerva's desk. “And do not forget that it is because of what you made me do that I ever wound up in there to begin with,” he told portrait-Albus.
“Go, Severus. As a favour to me,” Dumbledore said in a kinder tone.
Severus sighed and looked up at the portrait, defeated. Then, looking back to Minerva he said, “I will not court her, so get that thought out of your head right now.”
“Of course not. Just make sure that she gets there safely and she has someone to escort her home. She is just out of a relationship and he turned out to be a very abusive man. I just want to make sure that she is safe.”
Severus gave a quick nod. “I will come by your office at seven o'clock to pick her up. Make sure that she's not late.”
Minerva watched as Snape then left her office. “Are you sure we're doing the right thing by forcing him to do this, Albus?”
“I am. After all, his dreams are about to become reality.”
Minerva shook her head. Knowing Severus as she did, she wasn't quite sure how the man would take the upcoming events. Although, she had to admit that Severus actually enjoying himself and allowing himself the luxury of falling in love was a possibility. After all, stranger things could and, in fact, had happened.
Sighing, she left her office to go seek out her niece and help the young woman get ready for the ball. And even more importantly, she would tell her about her escort and how he was likely to treat her.
At least Maggie is a strong woman, Minerva thought as she entered her quarters.
~~
Hermione had been foolish to ever think that she would have been able to come home from work early or even on time the evening of 31 December. It's not as if she ever did at any other time. Tonight, it was almost as if Healer Sedgwick knew how badly Hermione wanted to leave, for each time Hermione finished her appointed tasks, yet another was awaiting her around the corner.
She was now caring for a patient who was suffering from Inordinatus Emein. Honestly, how much could one person vomit? She was beginning to wonder as she cast a quick Evanesco and Summoned a mop and bucket to spell them to clean the floor near where her patient currently sat.
Her replacement was late — very late, actually. Although, Hermione had a sinking suspicion that the oncoming Healer was merely waiting for the forty-five minutes that it took for the anti-emetic potion to begin working on the patient.
The one consolation was that the tedious tasks had done a decent enough job of keeping Hermione's mind occupied with thoughts of anything other than what she was getting ready to do.
Over an hour and a half later, she stood before the mirror holding the phial of the sparkling blue Invigorating Draught firmly in her hand. Hermione checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. The robes that Fred and George had given her for Christmas were extremely flattering. She made a quick mental note to thank Ginny for picking them out. Not that Ginny had said that she had, but this certainly wasn't something that either of the twins would've chosen.
The small black velvet cloak was the perfect accent to wear over the royal blue robes. She ran her hand over the chain around her neck and couldn't hold back a small smile as she again thought about the strange coincidence of the monogram.
The soft chime of the clock in her living room, marking the half-hour, reminded her that she was quickly running out of time. This, after all, wasn't a dream and the potion in her hand would only last two hours. She had prepared for the ball without it, thinking that she'd hold on to it and wait until the last possible moment before drinking the phial's contents. However, she found that she was quickly tiring and she had little choice but to take it… well, the other choice was to go to bed, which was an incredibly inviting thought, but if she did that then Ginny Potter would be pounding down her door and dragging her to the ball. (Hell, she was surprised that Ginny wasn't here doing that already.)
Knowing that she had little choice, Hermione checked her appearance one final time, pulled the cork out of the phial and drank the contents.
~~~
“Hermione. Oh, those robes look absolutely stunning on you,” Ginny whispered in her ear as she tried to lead her into the ballroom. “You know that I was about ready to leave the party to come and see what was keeping you. I had thought that you had just gone home to bed.”
Hermione snorted. “I considered it, trust me, but I knew that you would never let me live it down.” Hermione was only slightly comforted when her friend squeezed her arm. She looked over Ginny, in her dark green robes, with her red hair tied back in a braided knot at the nape of her neck, and a small emerald green demi-mask covering the area around her eyes. “You look amazing, Ginny.”
Ginny beamed. “Thank you.”
“Oh, hold on,” Hermione said as Ginny led her towards the doors. “Let me check my cloak. I'd hate to lose it.”
“That reminds me. Did you fix the locket?”
“No, I…” Her voice trailed off. She had no answer to why she had decided that she wouldn't tell Ron of his error. For whatever reason, it all seemed rather fitting. “Where's Harry?” she said instead, intent on changing the subject.
The sly smile that the redhead gave her told her that Ginny wasn't the least bit fooled, but she would play along. “Harry and Ron were talking with Viktor Krum the last time I saw them.”
“He just left you to fend for yourself at this thing?”
“I'm hardly alone. After all, I had to come look for you. I'm not like Ron. I hate the spotlight. You know that Harry doesn't like it much either, but he has little choice in the matter. Just because he's learned to accept and deal with it, doesn't mean that I have to… at least not all of the time.”
Ginny walked with her as she checked her cloak and then they went into the ballroom. Hermione's stomach tightened in anticipation. Her hand went up to her mask subconsciously, to ensure that it was straight… not even considering that the mask was held on by a charm and wouldn't budge no matter what she did unless she reversed the spell.
“What time did you take the potion, Hermione?”
“Half-past nine.”
Ginny nodded. “Ron said that it would last about two to two and a half hours. It varies in people. You should probably leave at the two hour mark. Otherwise we'll be scraping you off of the floor.”
No, she didn't want that, not after… well, aside from feeling extremely foolish, she just didn't want to subject herself to something that could leave her so vulnerable.
“And how are you feeling? Is it working all right?”
“Yes, it's fine,” Hermione assured her. “After being on my feet for so long, I'm feeling surprisingly clear-headed and alert.”
“Good,” her friend said and she pulled Hermione into the throng of people. “Let's go see if he's here.”
“You can't still believe that Severus Snape would show up for a Ministry-sponsored event of any kind, Ginny.” For Merlin's sake, Hermione had already been coerced to come to this thing. Ginny couldn't possibly be serious about forcing an encounter between Snape and her. “What on earth do you think would result from such a thing?” she asked.
Ginny looked at Hermione thoughtfully for a moment before saying, “I think that things will happen exactly as they are supposed to. It may not be destiny or true love, but there is definitely more at play than sexual attraction. I mean, you can't possibly tell me that you even gave Snape more than a passing thought before.”
Hermione snorted. That comment didn't even deserve a response. Before all of this, who would have given Snape anything more than a passing thought. “What makes you think that he'll even be here?”
“Oh, when I saw Professor McGonagall last week she assured me—”
“You told Professor McGonagall about this?” Hermione interrupted.
“I mentioned something in passing about how it would be nice if Snape actually showed up to something like this,” Ginny said, waving her hand and glancing around the room. “Anyhow, she got a thoughtful look on her face and then went on to insist that she would get Snape here, no matter what. Don’t worry, Hermione, she knows nothing of this or you.
“And speak of the devil.”
“What?” Hermione asked as she turned her eyes to where Ginny was looking. Sure enough, there he was. Dressed from head to toe in black dress robes, Severus Snape stood stiffly as he scowled at the crowd of people. He had been easy to spot for the simple fact that he was one of the few people in the room who was not wearing a mask.
Unable to pull her eyes away, Hermione felt her stomach flip-flop. She cursed herself for being nervous… that would, of course, imply that she cared. Unfortunately, this led her to realise that on some level, she did care. That was when she noticed him turn his attention to someone who was standing next to him… a woman. Although the woman wore a small black demi-mask, Hermione was certain that she couldn't have been much older than her. And for a reason that she refused to acknowledge, Hermione was extremely bothered by the short, form-fitting dress that the woman was wearing instead of the more traditional robes.
“Well, are you going to go over there?” came a voice from Hermione's side.
“No,” she replied, still watching the two who were obviously together, judging by the way that the woman's hand was now touching Snape's arm. “Didn't you say that Viktor was around here somewhere?”
Well, her dream may have been shattered, but that didn't mean that she was going to waste the brief amount of time that she did have.
~~~
Severus forced himself to nearly smile at the young woman who was hanging on his arm. Okay, it wasn't really a smile so much as less of a scowl than he typically wore. And the woman may as well have been hanging on him. She was touching him and that was more than he usually tolerated from people who he hardly knew. But this was Minerva's niece and for whatever reason, Severus felt obligated to be polite.
“What is it, precisely, that you are requiring of me, Miss Hardin?” he asked in a bored voice. “You do not actually expect me to entertain you this evening, do you?” Oh, Merlin, please don't let it be that. Minerva had only said to ensure the girl's safety to and from the event. Surely this girl wasn't expecting him to dance with her.
“I will be fine. I highly doubt that my ex-boyfriend will make an appearance here tonight, but you know how Aunt Minerva frets.”
Severus grumbled. Babysitting a thirty-three year old witch, what had he been reduced to?
As if reading his mind, the young woman smiled and brushed her hand along his arm again. “I will come and find you before I wish to leave so we can make Aunt Minerva happy by having you see me home. Let's say half-past twelve?”
Severus gave a short nod.
“I am sorry about this. But, who knows, maybe you'll actually enjoy yourself.”
“Yes, and I just heard that there was a sighting of some pigs winging their way over Buckingham Palace earlier this evening,” Severus muttered under his breath, but the small giggle that he heard from Maggie — before she left him standing there in the middle of the room — told him that she'd heard him.
He really hated silly, giggly women. The only thing he hated more was idiotic, brainless children who could not seem to comprehend about how dangerous magic could be.
Turning sharply on his heel, Severus went in search of a dark, quiet corner, and a stiff drink. Too bad there wasn't a rose garden down here, he thought.
Twenty minutes later found Severus exactly where he wanted to be. (Well, if one ignored the fact that being at any Ministry function was truly the very last place that he wanted to be.) He was standing up against the wall on the far left side of the room as close to the door as possible while not being in direct sight of those coming and going from the main ballroom.
Taking a sip of his firewhisky, Severus tried to calm his mind. Ever since he'd walked in here he'd felt oddly disconcerted. It had brought forth memories. Memories? No, they weren't real memories. It just all reminded him strongly of the dreams that he'd been plagued with since Halloween.
He didn't know if he should be grateful or wary that the dreams had ended after he'd told Minerva of the dream he'd had nearly a fortnight ago. After several discussions, Minerva had finally convinced him that it had likely been a remaining side-effect from the House-Elf Flu which he'd been lucky enough to contract back in early October. However, that didn't explain why the dreams had ended so suddenly. Nor did it explain how he had such an odd feeling of déjà vu now.
And though he hated admitting such a thing, even to himself, Severus found himself wondering about the mysterious woman who he had dreamed about so consistently for nearly two months.
It was as this final thought was passing through his head that he saw her. Every detail about the woman who he saw dancing with a man — whom he easily recognised was the famous Quidditch Seeker, Viktor Krum — was familiar. The dress robes, though the cut was slightly different than the one that the woman in his dreams had worn, were nearly identical in colour. Her brown hair was weaved in the same style and pinned on top of her head, leaving a few ringlets to frame her face.
The mask she wore to hide most of her face was of a black butterfly, always rather symbolic of new life and change. Severus had thought that he'd dreamed of it because he had felt ready for something new in his life. It had been the first time since Lily that he'd felt as if he'd truly wanted to be in a relationship with a woman.
It was then that the light caught something and Severus noticed that she wore a simple necklace with something that appeared to be a locket or charm on it. Nothing like the fancy diamond or pearl necklaces worn by most of the women who were presently in the room.
Could this possibly be the same woman?
With rapid care, he began to mentally run through the possible charms and potions that could be responsible for such a thing. And then, before he even finished cataloguing all of the possibilities, the realisation that the dream could have been real, in some small way, hit him and it felt as if a pile of lead had suddenly dropped into his gut.
If it was her, if it had happened….
He had to know before she told….
It had been two weeks; perhaps it was already too late.
Minerva had gone to great lengths to reassure him that he was safe from scandal the morning after his last dream when he'd realised that he'd dropped his guard and began revealing his secrets. Severus had no other choice; he had to approach her and find out what she knew.
Severus quickly knocked back the rest of drink and stood tall. He made certain that his features were in their forever masked state and walked quickly towards the dancing couple. Being none too patient, he tapped on the Quidditch player's shoulder.
“Yes,” Krum asked, looking at him.
“May I cut in?” Severus asked formally.
The man looked at his dance partner for permission. “Her—”
Severus didn't miss the woman stepping on Krum's boot.
“It's fine, Viktor,” she said to Krum. She then turned her eyes to Snape. “I'd be honoured to dance with such a famed war hero.”
And there was that same voice. It was her. A combination of curiosity and anger was sparked within him.
Krum bowed slightly to the woman and left the dance floor, giving Snape a look which clearly spoke volumes of the mistrust that he felt for him.
Ignoring him, Severus took the young woman in his arms and they began to dance.
“What exactly did you do to me?” he hissed in her ear, ignoring the instant feeling of comfort and security which had washed over him the moment he touched her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly to what I'm referring. The dreams were real, weren't they?”
“I—um, yes,” she stammered.
Severus was so disgusted and angered by her response that he stopped leading them around on the floor and simply scowled at her.
She took a breath and her face hardened. “I didn't cast the spell. I didn't even know about it until after it wore off.” She looked around them. “Could we discuss this someplace else, please?”
Dropping his hands from her, Severus led the way to one of the many smaller parlours off of the main ballroom. It took several minutes to find one that wasn't full of couples in intimate conversation. Finding a room, he then led the woman to a secluded corner and gestured for her to sit in a stiff chair.
“Now. Speak,” Severus said with no preamble while he hovered over the witch as if she were one of his errant students.
Hermione didn't know how to respond to Severus. She recognised his stance and demeanour immediately. She was worried of so many things happening at once. It took every ounce of control that she had to remember to do the simple things, like keep her mind clear of anything incriminating so that he didn't become even angrier than he already was and begin throwing out even more accusations.
Worse, she was very aware of the time and she knew that she didn't have much of it. It had been eleven o'clock when she'd begun dancing with Viktor and the time she'd spent dancing with him, followed by Snape, and then searching for a room…. Well, there wasn't much time left. Getting this over with and explaining as quickly as possible was likely a very good idea.
“There is this woman I know. She felt that she owed me — thought that she was doing me a favour — she cast a charm on me,” she rushed to explain.
“What charm was it?” he said in a low, harsh whisper.
“The Cinderella Charm is what she called it. Although, it involved a potion as well. I've tried looking it up since she confessed and I can't find any information on it.”
Snape growled and Hermione wondered if he knew of the spell. Finally, he shook his head slightly and turned his gaze back on her. “It can't have been. The charm doesn't work that way. If you — I mean, we — had been under that spell, then it would've concluded three days after the first dream. And the attraction, during the dreams, would have been too intense to fight.”
Well, that answered that question. He definitely knew of the spell.
“She said that she had altered the spell and even from that it took an unexpected course. Two weeks ago, she lifted the spell saying something to the effect that the two of us were too stubborn for it to work properly after she'd weakened it.”
Hermione began wringing her hands in an old nervous gesture of hers. “I didn't ask her to do any of this. I was just as surprised as you are when I found out. Before that I just thought that the stress of work was finally getting to me.”
“Yes, I can understand that,” he admitted. “I was trying to figure out who had poisoned me. Now, I know it was you she was after. Though, I must say that catching me in the crossfire was likely not an unwelcome side-effect.” Severus appeared to relax a little, and Hermione let out a small sigh. At least he'd lowered his wand.
“You know who did this?”
Severus nodded. “Albus Dumbledore's cousin.”
Dumbledore's cousin? “How can you be so certain that it was her?”
“Only members from her immediate family can cast that particular charm. I heard that it upset Albus terribly when he learned that he would never be able to cast it.” Then she heard him quietly mumble under his breath, “Praise Merlin that he never could.”
“I was hoping that I'd see you tonight, although I thought that it would be rather unlikely,” she said, changing the subject.
After appearing to debate with himself for a moment, Severus sat down in a chair next to her. “I wasn't going to be here. I don't attend these sorts of functions.”
“No, you don't seem to be the type,” Hermione said with a smile. “Granted, I don't enjoy them much either.”
“Hmm.” He then looked at her shrewdly. “How much of the dreams do you remember?”
Hermione knew exactly what he was after. Francine had explained that his memory would be slightly obscured, but after she had lifted the charm he would remember much more clearly what had happened from that moment on. “Everything.”
“I see.”
“I have no desire to expose you, Severus. You secrets are safe with me.”
“And what makes you think that I will believe you,” he said, again pulling his wand from his sleeve.
Hermione eyed his wand warily. She couldn't let him Obliviate her. Besides, could someone Obliviate a dream? Especially one that was two weeks old.
He’s bluffing, she decided. Although that didn't mean that he wasn't still staring at her with a calculated look. “If you know of the spell, Severus, then you must know that there has to be a mutual regard for it to have ever worked in the first place.”
“Precisely. The spell didn't work. Obviously, the old woman bollocksed it up,” he said as he stood.
Hermione shook her head determinately. “No, that's not what she said. It was just weaker… logically speaking, that would mean that our attraction is stronger.”
“I don't even know who you are! How can I bloody well be attracted to you?”
Hermione stood as well. There was no way she was going to tolerate him talking down to her like he did when he towered over people. “Not a physical attraction, you ruddy git: a calling of the souls. Don't you feel it?” she asked, grabbing his hand. “I do. It's a spark of fire that just tells me that this is right. It gives me comfort, contentment and a burning desire all rolled into one.”
He dropped her hand. “It's a remnant of the spell and will soon go away. But, obviously, that means that you can't believe any of this.”
“Yes, I can. I may not know very much about you, Severus, but I know this has the potential to be right.”
She watched him scowl and pace in front of her. At least she was no longer on the wrong end of his wand. Then, far off in the distance, Hermione heard the single chime denoting that it was half-past eleven. What horrid timing!
“Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have to leave. Right now.”
He stopped his pacing and stared at her, almost disbelievingly. “What do you mean you have to leave? This isn't a dream, woman,” he snarled, grabbing her shoulders.
Hermione struggled slightly to get out of his grasp. “I know it isn't, but I took a potion, and I have to leave right now,” she rushed to explain.
“A potion? What kind of potion?” Snape demanded angrily demanded to know.
“To keep me awake. I never would've been able to come if I hadn't taken it. I had just finished working over thirty-seven hours at St Mungo's. Please let me go.”
Watching the frustration, anger and something she couldn't quite identify, flash across his face, Hermione increased her struggles and pulled back from him. “I do want to see you again. In a day or two… I'll send you an owl.”
“Wait,” he said, almost desperately and reached out towards her again. This time, his long fingers only caught onto the gold locket that she now wore around her neck all of the time.
Hermione began to feel slightly dizzy and she panicked, jerking away from him and running towards the door. “I'm sorry. I'll contact you. We'll talk,” she called back.
“Damn it!” she heard him shout as he started to run after her. “I don't even know who you are!”
She weaved her way quickly through the ballroom, Summoned her cloak (just as she remembered doing in her dream before) and ran full-tilt to the entryway.
Severus had taken three steps to chase her, but had stopped himself when he remembered that there were other people present. It had also been the presence of those very people that had prevented him from pulling his wand and simply binding the woman. She was right; there was something about her that he was drawn to.
Biting back a growl he looked at the locket he held in his hand. A small smirk grew on his face as he shoved it in his pocket and went to go find Minerva's niece so that he could leave. He had things to do.