Redemption II

Chapter 83

Hermione sighed heavily resting her head in her hands. Severus hadn't yet returned from wherever he'd gone. Her heart ached for him but she couldn't think of anything that could be done. If he didn't want to be found, no one, not even she was going to find him. She had heard nearly everything through the door at Galia's home. She had had her own questions over everything she'd revealed but she knew it hadn't been the time.

She hadn't been able to sleep at all, every small creak of the old house had jolted her from her light fitful sleep. She'd paced and paced the house only to fall asleep in his chair. She'd almost been late for work the next morning. She'd left him a note explaining where she'd gone in the hopes that he'd return while she was at work. She'd wanted to stay, but she wanted to believe that he would find his way home when he was ready.

Though she'd gone to work her mind was anywhere else. Slowly recounting every painful memory she had of him, all the way from her first year at Hogwarts. Had it truly been fate that night when he'd found her in the alley or had something else led him to her? How deep was Galia's involvement in all of this? How could someone so seemingly all-knowing have been able to sit back while hundreds were slaughtered? How much blood truly rested on her hands?

The more she thought about it the more she was able to see where Severus' anger had come from. Her heart also went to Harry. If Galia had been able to see that Severus would fall in love with Lily, why had she let her die? Surely she could have warned someone. Would the alternative have truly been so catastrophic? What would Harry have been like if he would have been raised by his mother and father? Would they have even been friends? Would Voldemort have succeeded in creating his twisted utopia? Would she ever have gone to Hogwarts at all?

oOo

Severus snarled and cast out another large spell. The wall before him didn't so much as shudder when the flames of his Feindfyre crashed against it. He panted heavily resting his hands on his knees when he caught sight of something or someone from the very corner of his eye.

He'd gone back to the castle after speaking with Galia. Filled with rage and a thirst for the truth. He'd returned to the library, following Hermione's path up to the fifth floor. He'd found the books she'd spoken of before going further down. He'd found the year of his birth before moving inside. The shelves had been full but he'd been unable to open any of the books holding his moniker. So instead he'd removed Galia's.

Years and years he'd read, late into the night and into the early morning. Everything about her entire life laid bare before him. Her life hadn't been much more pleasant than his own but it had given him insight into her deceitful nature.

He'd also come to know that Dumbledore had played a bigger role in his torment than he originally believed. He too had used her powers to gain inside information. Severus had thought he'd run out of ways to curse the dead until he'd learned that Dumbledore had gone to her before the first war had even started.

He'd known from the very moment that Voldemort was destined to be reborn. Galia hadn't told him much; she had still been young, under the guidance of their Grandfather who very much used her to seek his own glory. It hadn't done him well in the end; killed by his own son to protect Galia from future misuse.

She had been hidden away for years until her father and mother had lost their lives trying to keep Voldemort from finding her. She had lied to him, setting in motion everything that torn Severus' life into pieces. She had also inadvertently been the one to tell Wormtail where to seek the Potters, not herself no, but she had ensured the circumstance. It had been she, who had made sure Trelawny was in the inn that night; indirectly creating the boy-who-lived.