69

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had sat in Harry's room for hours, unable to digest what had happened. All Harry could see in his minds eye was his sister's back erupting a vicious, bloody red as wounds that seemed to encompass her were revealed. He remembered how her face had paled as she tried to remain standing and the tears that slid down her cheek as she finally fell. Her screams were still ringing in his ears. He, along with many of the Order members had thought her injuries to be less severe. True, they had seen them in her memories but that was just a picture. To see them in 'real' life was horrifying. He had sometimes doubted her when she had said that she could've easily died from her injuries and he now regretted even allowing such thoughts to enter his head.

He could barely imagine what she must have felt that night. He couldn't comprehend how much pain she must have been in before she had even finished fighting Voldemort. The thought of her being in such pain and just lying unconscious and forgotten in the grounds was more than he could stand. There was another dimension to his feelings, however. He was thankful that Lucius Malfoy had gone after her; that he had been able to save his sister from what would have certainly ended in death. Harry could also well imagine how elated she must have felt to wake up with him by her side; he had experienced the same feeling when he had woken up still alive.

She had barely been in Grimmauld place since that day. It was now the last week of August and, since the end of June she had spent three weeks at home. The rest had been spent living in Malfoy Manor. Harry was beginning to get the feeling that she would never come back. Her room was lying unused and they didn't like to sit up there without her. Nothing had been moved, not even the birthday cards that were still stood on the windowsill.

None of them had spoken much since they had got back home; none of them knowing what to say. It wasn't just them either; even Sirius, Lupin and the others were stunned. And they weren't stunned at what Fudge had done, but more at the way Lucius had reacted. Most of them had never believe that he cared that much. In their circles he had a reputation for caring about no one other than himself.

"What do you think about it all?" Ron eventually asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know Ron; 'all' is a bit of a large concept to cover." Hermione sighed.

"Well, you know, what happened today."

"I don't know what to think about it, to be honest." Harry told them. "I mean, everything we saw today was so far from how he has acted in the past. I think I might just have to get used to the fact that he cares for her."

"If seeing that happen to her could provoke enough magical strength to break those chains, I'd say you're probably right." Hermione added. "But what about her, I mean; she hasn't said a word about her feelings?"

"No, she hasn't." Harry nodded. "But I think we can go so far as guessing. Although, she did tell me that she wasn't sure what she felt."

"Things can change." Ginny suggested. "Or maybe she has known all along and just doesn't want to say it."

"Well," Hermione said nervously, "I think she knows how he feels and is just hiding it from us all."

"How do you know?" Ron asked sceptically.

"I'll show you." Standing up, Hermione led them out of the door and upstairs to her room. The room was eerily quiet and still, everything as it ever was, as if time had not passed since her birthday. Night had fallen and Hermione waved her wand to light the lamps.

"I found it that day when we sent her clothes to Malfoy Manor." Hermione explained as they walked into her bedroom. "It was, well, it was with a bundle of notes and cards in her jewellery drawer and she had asked me to pack those too." She pulled the top drawer of Kathryn's dresser open and lifted out a folded piece of parchment.

"Why didn't you send it with the rest?" Harry asked curiously.

"I think it just got left behind," Hermione shrugged, "I don't think it was attached to the main bundle, as if she had only got it recently."

"Do I want to know what it says?" Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to find out something that he wasn't ready to know.

"Well, that all depends on what you want to know."

"Thanks for being clear." Harry replied with a small laugh.

"From the wording, I think I can safely say that this is the note that came with the necklace he sent her for her twentieth birthday." She handed the parchment to Harry. It was thick and heavy with a crest embossed into the corner and spoke volumes about the person that had sent it. Taking a deep breath, he opened the note and read.

Happy Birthday.

If this has been delivered by owl then I am, for whatever reason, unable to give it to you in person. It is a family heirloom, passed on from mother to daughter on her twentieth birthday. However, as I have no daughter, it seems fitting that it should pass to you. With love.

"With love." To Harry those last two words stood out a mile. "He actually put it in writing."

"I think the bundle was every note or letter he has ever sent her." Hermione explained. "All the cards that were in the gifts he sent her, all the ones she hid from us."

"I have a feeling that you have a theory about all of this." Ron commented with a raised brow.

"Well," Hermione shrugged, "I have given it some thought."

"We'd be worried if you hadn't." Ron told her affectionately.

"Oh Ron," she chided him, "even you two could've figured this out if you gave it thought."

"What do you think it means?" Harry asked, not wanting them to start bickering.

"Oh, sorry Harry, well," she set the note down and sat perched on the end of the bed, "it's quite a simple concept really. We know that they are both very guarded people when it comes to their emotions, I mean, when has Kathryn ever told us anything in depth about how she feels?"

"Never." Harry replied glumly, beginning to wish he had made her open up more.

"And when have you ever heard Lucius Malfoy speak about his private life and feelings in public?"

"Never." Ginny answered.

"Exactly, now, this got me to thinking about why they hide their feelings." Hermione sounded very excited at what she had surmised from the entire situation. "I think that he has never told her how he feels, although he has shown it through gifts and this one note, because he is afraid someone will use it against him."

"But he was married before and no one used it against him." Ron pointed out.

"I know, but Narcissa Malfoy was a Pureblood and therefore not someone his fellow Death Eaters would use against him because she was related to most of them. Beyond that, the only person that anyone could've used against him was his son but we saw how coldly he treated him in front of anyone." They all realised that what Hermione was saying was making a lot of sense. "If people know how he feels about your sister, especially members of the press or the Ministry, they will use it to gain an advantage. Think of what he could agree to with the threat of what they could do to her hanging over his head."

"Fudge wouldn't dare do that." Harry said icily, fully prepared to severely hurt anyone who tried to harm his sister after everything she had been through.

"I'm sure Fudge has his fair share of unsavoury contacts that would do anything for the right sum." Hermione replied grimly. "But, if anything, I think the most it would take to break him would be threatening to thrown her in Azkaban with him. Of course, it would take an army to take her out." Hermione finished with a smile. "Because she would definitely not go willingly."

"And what about Kathryn?" Harry asked. "Why do you think she hides it?"

"I think she hides it for probably the same reasons." Hermione sighed. "And I also think she wants to avoid the scorn of the public for declaring herself to be in love with Lucius Malfoy."

"She has had to endure that already without saying anything about loving him." Harry snorted.

"She might have had to put up with some less than friendly attitudes but that is nothing to what she will receive if she says that she loves him. At the moment, I think that people see them as lovers but nothing much beyond that. I mean, like she's said before, people are caught up in the scandal but, at heart, she is still one of the children that vanquished Voldemort. She is still the girl that lived, a hero who has gone on to best Voldemort a second time. If she, someone they revere as a symbol of all that is good, declares her love for someone that she has stood against ever since she was born; how do you think people will react?"

"I couldn't tell you exactly how but I can see angry mobs, all torches and pitchforks, at the gates to Malfoy Manor."

"That's probably about right." Hermione sighed. "Although, thankfully, all and sundry do not know how much she really cares for him."

Their discussion was interrupted by Mrs Weasley calling them all down for dinner.

"We'll go and see her later." Harry decided as they walked down the stairs. "Just to see if she's alright."

As they sat down to their dinner, a couple of hundred miles away in a Wiltshire Manor, a foot was slipped into a dangerously high shoe and the owner of the feet walked out of the door and into the night.

After dinner, Harry flooed Malfoy Manor to check if Kathryn was ok with them coming over. He pulled his head out of the fire fast, making his head spin, as one of the House Elves told him that she wasn't in.

"She's not there." He announced to the kitchen. "The House Elves said that she went out a couple of hours ago and didn't say where she was going." Snape, who had surprisingly joined them for dinner, sat in silence as everyone broke out in worried conversation.

"We're going to have to look for her." Sirius decided.

"Where do you start?" Harry asked sceptically.

"You don't." Snape answered shortly. "You trust her to be able to look after herself. I would've thought that after everything you've heard you'd know that she can do just that."

"I just want to make sure she is alright, Professor." Harry shot back scathingly. "Today wasn't exactly easy for her."

"That's as maybe, but I do not think it wise for you to go looking for her."

"Why not?" Harry challenged him.

"Because you seem to have a tendency to clash with her quite openly over things she does." Snape replied coolly.

"How do you know?"

"Because, Mr Potter, you were never that good at Occlumency." Snape smirked as Harry balked.

"But what's to stop me looking for her?" Harry asked defensively.

"Well, unless you hadn't noticed, you cause quite a media sensation as soon as you walk out the door." Snape explained in such a familiar tone. "You making a scene with your sister, wherever she may be, and creating rumours of a rift between the two of you would not do her any favours."

"But there isn't a rift." Harry protested.

"Did you miss the point?" Snape asked, dumbstruck. "The rumours will do her more harm that the truth."

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" Harry asked in a raised tone, trying his best not to shout. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Because," Snape took a deep breath, "because I made a vow to myself that I would."

"You what?"

"My shard of information cost your mother her life, Potter, I signed her death sentence and I have spent my life trying to atone for that." Snape was showing more emotion than Harry had ever seen before. "I have watched over you, very discretely, since you arrived at Hogwarts. I hope that, in lieu of protecting your mother like I should've done, I can find some solace in protecting her children."

"Oh."

"And I promised Lucius that I would watch over her, like I watched over Draco." Snape explained. "He is one of my oldest friends, I could not refuse."

"And you weren't going to tell us this?" Sirius asked calmly.

"I saw no reason to." Snape shrugged. "It was a private matter between Lucius and I."

"Why did you even agree?" Harry asked in disbelief. "You don't even like us."

"I never said that I didn't like you, Potter." Snape snapped back. "I simply did not wish to coddle you like others did."

"Oh, right." Harry felt slightly ashamed of himself. "Sorry."

"As to your other question," Snape resumed where he had left off, "I agreed because he had that look in his eyes."

"What look?" Hermione chipped in curiously.

"He cares for her." Snape replied simply, not admonishing her for interrupting like he usually did. "And it isn't caring like he cares about his fortune," he continued to explain, "but it is in his heart that he cares for her."

"Oh." That was the only thing Hermione could say.

"I have never seen him show that kind of emotion about anyone, not even Narcissa. Or his son for that matter." There was silence in the kitchen. "Besides, I owe your sister a life debt. She saved my life despite all I have done to appear unconcerned, and with full knowledge that I was the one that brought death to her mother's door. I intend to honour that debt."

"Ok then." Harry finally said.

"Well, with that over and done with," Snape flung his cloak about his shoulders, "I will fulfil my obligation and find her."

His first stop was Malfoy Manor. The House Elves showed him in despite their insistence that their mistress was not in. Ignoring what they said, he ventured into the master bedroom where he found a half empty bottle of Vodka, some Cointreau, cranberry juice and a cocktail shaker next to a Martini glass.

"Oh dear." He murmured to himself as he surveyed the clothes and shoes scattered over the floor in what must have been an indecisive wardrobe moment.

"Where did she go?" he snapped as one of the House Elves came in to start tidying up.

"Mistress is not telling us where she is going." It said in a high pitched squeak, obviously scared out of its skin.

"Very well." Sighing, he swept out of the room and through the halls trying to decide what to do. Quite suddenly, the idea dawned upon him. Walking back to her room, his eyes landed on the necklace she had been wearing that day in court. Holding the elegant set of pearls carefully in his hand, he took the stairs up to the library two at a time.

Finding an atlas amongst the stacks of books, he opened it up to a map of the United Kingdom and set the necklace down on the page. After a few complex wand movements, he spoke the incantation.

"Mostra il modo." The necklace glowed blue for a moment and then returned to normal. Moving the necklace onto the desk, Snape picked up the atlas and watched as a small blue dot appeared on the map where he was at the moment. Then, slowly, the shining blue speck began to move about the map. It jumped several times and Snape began to sense that Miss Potter had left with the intention of not being found. She had sat in innumerable Order meetings and was well aware that it was near impossible to track someone who had apparated.

She did not know, however, of this little used means of tracing someone's movements and Snape gave a small smile as the blue dot finally came to a stop. Looking at the map, the shining particle was hovering directly over Newcastle.

As he walked back out to the gates of the Manor to apparate, Snape knew exactly why she had gone so far north. He knew that she had chosen the city because it was so far away from where they would think to look for her. Snape also know that she had chosen Newcastle because of its reputation for the plethora of bars and clubs that populated the city centre. From what he had heard, although they were few and far between, when she went for a night out with her friends she liked to go to Muggle bars and clubs where they wouldn't be recognised. And, whilst Newcastle boasted a vibrant wizarding community, it also gave her plenty of places to hide. Fulfilling his promise to Lucius was not going to be an easy task.

Kathryn's head buzzed as she walked down a street lined with bars. She was surrounded by people and, for the first time in a while, felt free. Nobody knew who she was or cared about what she was doing as she looked for her next port of call. Of course, she did not fail to catch people's attention as she walked down the street in her dress. It was made of purple velvet, strapless and rather short. It was basically a sheath of fabric that clung to her perfectly with a voluminous layer of dark green silk chiffon stitched underneath the bust. This fell down elegantly in translucent waves and was then tucked under and stitched to the hem of the dress, creating a puffball effect that few could pull off. Adding this to her long hair, sparkling jewellery and long legs in stupidly high shoes, people could not fail to stare.

This look also gave her the advantage of, after a well aimed smile, being allowed to jump the queue by bouncers outside the doors. She supposed it was also due to the way people seemed to point at what she was wearing, making them think she was someone important. Snape, however, was getting into bars in a very different way. If he was stopped as he walked through the door, whoever it was found themselves rushing off to do something else instead. Whilst some of the bars he stepped into were well appointed and elegant, it was the Muggles that were drinking that brought the place down. Muggle women were dressed in disturbingly low cut tops or shorter than acceptably short shorts. Sometimes it was a mixture of both. And then there were the men; all dressed in the same, badly cut shirts and all leering at every woman that walked by.

After a brief search in several establishments, Snape decided that his best bet would be to try the ones that seemed expensive and exclusive. Therefore, the next bar he stepped into had an altogether different ambience than the last few. It was dark and brooding, seductive even. The walls were a mixture of black and red textured wallpaper in decadent patterns and a large crystal chandelier dominated the ceiling. The floor was made of dark, polished wood and his steps echoed as he walked. The bar was a gleaming work of polished black stone and bartenders carried drinks out on trays to patrons sitting in intimate booths or on comfortable, lushly appointed sofas.

He spotted her almost instantly; sat languidly on one of the sofas in the back corner of the bar.

"Can I get you anything sir?" one of the bartenders asked politely as Snape walked past the bar.

"A Dry Martini." Snape replied, continuing his walk over to the back corner. She was sat in the corner of the sofa, her long legs crossed, with one arm resting on the arm of the sofa and the other holding her half finished cocktail. A second sat waiting on the table. It was past midnight and he wondered how many she'd already had.

"What an excellent display of a coping strategy, Miss Potter," he said bluntly as he took the seat opposite her, "I congratulate you." She did not reply, instead finishing her cocktail and picking up the next.

"Although I would discourage you from such behaviour as it does tend to send your brother and friends into a panic as to your whereabouts." The bartender appeared and set down his drink.

"Well wasn't it nice of you to come and find me." She replied once the bartender had disappeared again. "I know coming out into public is a big step for you." Although her comments were cutting, her words were slightly slurred and muddled together. She was very drunk.

"I would also think that you knew better considering the ramifications of being caught in this state by the Prophet's photographers." He shot back.

"Oh," she slurred, taking another drink, "I'd forgotten about that."

"Well it's lucky someone remembered." He replied dryly. "Now I'm taking you home whether you come willingly or by force."

"I have to pay first." She signalled the handsome barman over and handed him a couple of crisp Muggle twenty pound notes. "I'll pay for his too." She nodded at Snape, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously and giving him a coy smile as he walked off.

"I would also suggest that you remember who you are loyal to." He snapped, noticing her gestures.

"Fine." She slurred, standing up and walking in a slightly wobbly fashion towards the door. Snape, draining the last of what had been a very good martini, followed her; slightly amazed that she could still walk in such high shoes.

Her first stumble came at the stairs leading back down to the street and he found her clinging onto his cloak as they walked down. She did not let go as they continued to walk down the street.

"Good Merlin, you are stupid." He muttered as she staggered in her shoes.

"No," she corrected in a slurring voice, "I am drunk."

"How did you think you were going to get home in this state?" he asked. "I'm amazed that you even managed to Apparate here from the Manor." He was amazed, after seeing how much she had already imbibed before leaving the house. All he got in reply was incessant giggling.

"You've never seen me this drunk, have you?" she asked stupidly.

"Thankfully not." Snape shot back acerbically, although he was sure she didn't pick up on his tone at all.

"Actually," she slurred, stumbling again, "I don't think I've ever been this drunk before."

"How privileged I am to witness it." Snape replied, concentrating on trying to find a quite spot from which to Apparate. He finally found somewhere after another couple of minutes of drunken stumbling with her hanging around his neck for support. A deserted alleyway near the train station would serve his purpose perfectly. Not listening to her inebriated mumblings, he wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure the other was firmly around his neck as he made ready to apparate.

"Oh no." She slurred as her alcohol fogged mind realised what he was about to do. In a practiced manoeuvre, they disappeared in the blink of an eye and reappeared moments later just outside the Manor's gates. Disentangling herself from his arms, she promptly vomited in the hedgerow. Snape smirked as she coughed; he had known it was not advisable to apparate or side-along apparate whilst drunk, but it had been the only way to get her home. Leaning against him again, her knees buckled and Snape found himself carrying her semi-conscious form down the long drive.

Once through the doors and into familiar territory, she seemed to revive slightly and demanded that he set her down. He did as she asked and watched in mild amusement as she stumbled up the stairs, clinging onto the banister as she went. He eventually followed, finding her shoes and dress discarded just through the doors to the master suite. She was nowhere in the bedroom but there was an unpleasant noise coming from the bathroom. Walking over to the doorway he came upon something that he would have rather not seen. Hunched over the toilet bowl wearing naught but her knickers, she was emptying her stomach contents at a shocking speed.

"Stupid girl." He muttered, pouring a large glass of water from the pitcher he had told the House Elves to have ready. "Drink this." He ordered, thrusting the glass and a towel into her hands once she had finished. She had just managed to pull her hair back into a rough ponytail but strands still hung around her pale face.

"Thanks." She croaked groggily, drinking it slowly. Snape did not reply. He was rather uncomfortable with the situation as he was well aware that he was seeing her in a way that only Lucius was meant to. This did not seem to faze her, however, and after finishing her drink stood up, splashed her face with cold water and walked back into the bedroom.

Following after a few moments, Snape found her lying on the mattress completely passed out without even having pulled the covers over her. Her head had missed the pillows completely and she was just awkwardly sprawled out. Sighing, he carefully readjusted her position; trying not to see too much, and pulled the covers over her.

Quite by accident, although he had promised himself that he was only going to stay for a little while to make sure that she wasn't ill again, Snape fell asleep in one of the comfortable chains by the glowing remnants of the fire.

Jolting awake just before dawn, he found himself watching her sleep for just a little while. She was slumbering deeply now, only on a completely different side of the bed to the one she had lain down on. Snape assumed that it must be 'her' side of the bed. He was quite astonished when, as she moved the next time, he actually felt a pang of compassion for her. Rolling over to face away from the windows, her arm reached across the bed as if in search of something, only to find it empty. Shuddering, she drew her arm back and burrowed further into the covers. Sighing, Snape turned and walked out of the room, pondering what he now knew to have blossomed between the most unlikely pair.