A Matter of Honor
by Amy McWilliams (McAmy)

Book 3: Love and Honor

Chapter 2: Dinner in Hogsmeade

After Miss Granger had left for Hogsmeade (he tried not to dwell on the fact that she was going there to have dinner with two of his least favorite people), Snape considered their conversation. He hadn't intended to mention the poem, and it had been the first thing he'd done. He also hadn't intended to tell her quite so much about his efforts regarding the Death Eaters--of course, he had given her no details, nothing that McGonagall or Lupin wouldn't have told her already.

At the sight of her smile (she was usually glad to see him, and he was still amazed by that), and after her teasing remark in return for his jibe about her new title, he had seen that she immediately reverted to a quieter, more self-conscious mode. She was never fearful, but she was sometimes nervous around him, he noticed, as if never wanting to say the wrong thing. He felt like she was still waiting for him to take points from Gryffindor.

And so he had said more than he intended, hoping that she would realize that he trusted her--as much as he could allow himself to trust anyone. That she would understand that he was not simply the sequestered old bat Remus Lupin had certainly told her he was. There was…method to his madness, he thought dryly, though the other professors could not hope to understand his behavior in light of what little they knew of the situation (Dumbledore being, perhaps, the one exception). They could not understand fallen Death Eaters, for they had never truly understood Death Eaters. How could they? And indeed, he wouldn't wish that understanding on anyone. Besides, it didn't matter. He didn't care what the others thought of him. Yet it was important that Miss Granger know there was more to the situation than his normal anti-social disposition. He wasn't sure why.

No, he had not told her everything. Things had quieted down, a bit, in the past few months; his mood had lightened because of it. He knew, however, that the hardest tasks might well lie ahead, as he and those few like him (he had found, since Voldemort's death, that there were a handful of former Death Eaters working towards the same ends, and they had formed a tentative alliance) searched for the last of the Dark Lord's loyal supporters--those who would still, even though their cause had failed, fight for what they believed with their very lives.

He had received word from one of these contacts that a couple, maybe three, of the remaining fanatics had reconnected and gone underground. Moreover, the contact said that there had been a possible sighting near Edinburgh. At first, Snape's suspicions jumped to Glasgow and Harry Potter--what if they were out to finish the job Voldemort had wanted done so badly? He dismissed the thought. While Voldemort was living, Potter had been in danger. But his supporters, for the most part, had thought the vendetta against Potter was a waste of time--though they would never have admitted it aloud. No. Voldemort's leftovers would target those who had posed the real threat to their Master, aside from his Achilles's heel where the Potter boy was concerned. They would continue to target the traitors, and would go after Dumbledore. And at Hogwarts, they could find both.

Hermione left the castle and walked towards Hogsmeade. Once clear of the grounds, she could Apparate to Sirius's house, but she had time and the walk appealed to her. She had remembered to ask Remus to explain how Floo powder worked at Hogwarts; she had used his fireplace once in her seventh year to get to Hagrid's hut without being seen. Apparently, the faculty (and some of the staff) fireplaces were networked together, in case of emergency. Hogwarts was cut off from the outside Floo network, however, in terms of travel. Calls could be made, with permission--their intranet could be connected, for conversations only, to the outside wizarding world. When she asked if the professors conversed by way of their connected fireplaces when it wasn't an emergency, Remus had laughed. It was possible, he said, but could you imagine professors sticking their heads in the fireplace to talk with somebody that was in the same building?

Her thoughts on Hogwarts communication took her most of the way to the train station. After that, she started to see the familiar sights of Hogsmeade: The Three Broomsticks (Rosmerta was safely back at her post, thanks to Dumbledore), Honeydukes, Dervish and Banges, the Shrieking Shack. She thought of the night they'd discovered that Ron's rat, Scabbers, was actually Peter Pettigrew. At the time, she could not understand how Snape could be so…stupid, so intolerant, so angry. Funny, she didn't understand him much better now, but now she assumed that he had reasons, rather than simply writing him off as the enemy.

As she arrived at the gate, Harry opened the front door. She hurried to meet him, and he gave her a hug in greeting. Inside, Sirius was preparing dinner, and leaned through the archway that led into the kitchen to wave his hello to her. "Won't be ten minutes," he called.

Harry and Hermione took seats by the fire. "You look happy," he noted, "and flushed."

Hermione felt her cheek. "I was walking quickly; I thought I might be late."

With an odd look on his face, Harry asked, "So did you get all of your unpacking done, then?"

Hermione smiled. "Almost. I got to a stopping place and then wanted to check in with Snape, since I wasn't going to be at dinner."

The odd look turned into a smile. "Hmm. I see."

At the tone in his voice, Hermione shot him a look. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Harry chuckled. "Only that it doesn't surprise me one bit that you have to start working the very day you arrive."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was not working," she said, irritated. "I was just saying hello." Harry raised an eyebrow. "And asking about work," she admitted, trying not to smile.

Sirius came out of the kitchen with a stack of plates and silverware. "If you two will set the table, we should be just about ready," he said, placing the stack on the table.

As Hermione moved to help, Harry muttered under his breath, "Uh-huh…work with Snape."

During dinner, Hermione kept Harry talking, wanting to know about his training, what the Ministry was saying about life after Voldemort, and about Ron and their other friends. Sirius too, she pummeled with questions, until he said, "Now Hermione, what about you? Tell us what you've been up to."

She took a breath. "Well," she began, "after graduation I went to stay with my parents. I had to meet with the Hogwarts Board of Directors in June, and stayed in Diagon Alley for a few days so I could work in the library a bit to start getting ready for classes." Harry chuckled. Hermione ignored him. "And then I knew I wanted to get in early to Hogwarts so I could be settled in before I had to start preparing in earnest. It feels a little weird, still. I keep expecting Minerva to show up and take points off for something." Sirius laughed.

"How are your folks?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "They're all right. They're…well, they're not really happy with me just now. Mum had convinced herself that once I finished Mywoods--especially given…everything that happened while I was there--that I would 'see the light' and come back to the Muggle world for good. I don't know why on earth they paid for me to attend a wizard university if they wanted me to give up on it immediately afterwards."

Sirius noted, "Probably they knew that refusing you would just drive you away."

Harry asked, "So…they aren't happy about you being back at Hogwarts?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really. At least Dad convinced Mum that this was the safest place I could be, what with Dumbledore here and everything. I tried to tell her that you'd be here too," here she looked at Sirius, "but I don't think she found that very comforting. Sorry." But Sirius only laughed and got up to clear the table.

Hermione and Harry moved back to the fire. "So Ron is ok?"

"I think so," answered Harry. "He still seems…distant. But he writes more often, and seems happier now that he's in Auror training."

"You're about done with training, aren't you?"

"Yeah," nodded Harry, "and then I'll be moved to London, probably. I don't know what Ron's going to think about that; he's still got his second year to go."

"You'll be fine. The two of you will work it out."

Harry nodded. "You're probably right. But what about the two of you?"

Hermione shrugged. "Don't know. He hasn't written me since we came to Glasgow to see if you were all right. Ginny writes me sometimes, and always gives me the latest report from him, but…who knows."

The friends sat in silence for a bit. "So…you're…all right, now?" Harry asked softly. "You're happy?" Hermione looked at him. "Well, I mean," he faltered, "I know things were rough while you were away at school…"

Hermione sighed. "You know, I have thought a lot about why Seamus's death hit me so hard. I mean, Cedric…" she faded off, and Harry nodded. She smiled softly. "Seamus wasn't the first person my age that died, but he was my housemate, my friend, even if we weren't as close as the two of you were. But it was…it was a more than that."

She shifted in her seat and Harry waited for her to continue. "Cedric died because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time--he was an innocent bystander." Harry looked away, and Hermione added, "You know what I mean, Harry." Harry nodded.

She sighed. "But Seamus…Seamus chose to be in the line of fire. He chose to be an Auror. And he died for it. And you could have too--you still could." Her voice caught, but she kept speaking. "Ron could as well…. When we were at Hogwarts, we were in danger lots of times. But it was a game, you know? Even though you could have died at Voldemort's hands, it was still…it didn't seem real. Because we were here; because we were safe. That doesn't make sense…"

"No, it does," Harry said.

After a moment, Hermione continued. "You know, I chose to go to university. I chose to experiment, to learn, to develop a potion that would help people on the front lines. But in doing so…I chose not to be on the front lines." Harry looked at her intently as she tried to explain. "I felt so…useless, Harry. I did. I couldn't figure out the potion--I still haven't--and in the meantime, friends of mine, professors of mine, were getting hurt."

She looked at him with a weak smile. "At least you let me come with you when we faced danger as kids. You know?"

"I know," Harry said. "I couldn't have done without you."

Hermione nodded.

As she left, a couple of hours later, Harry offered to walk her home, even though it was a bit late to pay a visit. She declined; she wanted the time to think. He had told her, as he hugged her goodbye, "Your work is important, Hermione. You know that."

She knew, but sometimes it was hard to believe that the things she loved to do, sitting safely in a room somewhere, weren't simply a way to avoid the things that scared her.

"No," she said aloud, refusing to let her insecurities run away with her. Whatever her parents said, whatever she sometimes felt, what she did was important. She was important.

A/N: R. J. Anderson's Darkness & Light Trilogy made me think about Floo travel at Hogwarts, as I noted in an earlier section. Of course, the irony here is that the only time I can remember the faculty communicating via their fireplaces is when Snape summons Lupin through the one in his office in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

On to Chapter 3