"He's a traitor! He doesn't deserve the gift of magic. He could have saved us all and what does he do? He goes and kills Dumbledore as if it was nothing. He didn't help dear Remus anymore and do you know what my Dora suffered? Keeping away from him, being kept away from him? Snape could always talk sense into Remus. Remus listened to him, out of whichever reason and then he goes and betrays us. He should have died during the battle," she spat.

Snape stood very still. He didn't move a single muscle. Hermione was, for a moment, worried about him. He looked very human standing there, his shoulders slightly hunched and he actually felt like standing the same way.

This was the only reason she had taken his magic? The only reason? Just because he had played his part too perfectly?

"Is that all? That's why you did this to him?"

"He should have died, like my Nymphadora died, like Remus died and like Ted died. He told them where to look for my Ted."

"Granger," Snape said and sounded suddenly rather tired, "it's wearing off."

"Right it's wearing off," Andromeda Tonks shouted loudly. "You traitor, I would have destroyed you. I would have watched your house for longer and I would have killed your neighbour and that professor of yours that you like and Draco and her, I would have got all of you..."

"Put a Silencing Charm up," he said tiredly and Hermione immediately complied. This was insane. Insanity. This woman had gone insane. And she believed her own insanity. "Where did you bring Aideen?"

"Swansea," said Hermione voicelessly.

He nodded, then turned around.

"What do we do?" she asked.

He stood and looked at her, and seemed to look even more tired than before. "I'm sure your friend Potter will assist you. Or the Muggle police which might be a better idea. Her wand is somewhere outside..."

"I picked it up," she said and raised it up.

"I'm sure they can prove that it was her who took her sister's wand. It would work for her, I suppose. Feed her Veritaserum if you get her to the Muggle police, that way they won't have to bother to ask questions."

"The wand?" she asked.

He walked tiredly over to her and took it from her hands, then crossed the room to stand before Andromeda Tonks and the woman's pink eyes glanced up rather fearfully. But instead of trying to produce magic, he raised the wand up a little and before her eyes, snapped it cleanly in two, then the two parts in another two, then again, as little as it would go and threw the parts on the ground. "See how it feels," he growled, then walked away again.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, feeling overwhelmed and anxious and didn't want to be left alone at all.

He didn't reply, only kept on walking and she could only see how he pulled a mobile phone from his pocket and dialled, then held it to his ear.

49. Grice's Maxim of Manner

Under the category of manner, which I understand as relating not (like the previous categories) to what is said but, rather, to how what is said is to be said, I include the supermaxim — 'Be perspicuous' — and various maxims such as:

1. Avoid obscurity of expression.

2. Avoid ambiguity

3. Be brief (avoid unnecessary prolixity)

4. Be orderly

(Grice, 1975)

He could only walk away. His job was done, he had achieved what he had wanted to achieve and now, he only had to get Aideen from hospital, hopefully with a cast and some medicine, would then have to bring her home to her loving family and he would be able to catch some sleep as well. Put all the things away, and, in the likely event that Granger would show up at his house again (there was probably no getting rid of her now...), had to get the book of the Blacks ready for her to take again. He didn't want it in any case.

Funny, he thought, as he sat in the taxi to take him to Llwyneryr Hospital, a taxi he had called from his mobile, he worked so hard to burn all his books before — and now he was stuck with another one. Not that he wanted to keep it. And funny, he thought, looking out of the window, that, if Andromeda was taken to a Muggle loony bin, or probably, knowing Granger, Kissed by the oh so fair Wizarding World, the entire Black estate was falling to Draco — and Andromeda's grandson. And that boy, well, as far as he knew, Potter was his godfather. Oh, Severus thought, hopefully there was another person to take care of the toddler and it wasn't up to Potter to raise that poor child.

But that wasn't his business. He had done what he had perceived as his duty. The rest was up to others.

He would call Eleanor as soon as he knew what was happening to Aideen, or as soon as he could take her from the hospital, if he could. Well, he didn't doubt it, or at least he hoped so. She needed to be with family, not in a sterile hospital room somewhere in South Wales.

He leant his head back in the cab and took a deep breath. It had been exciting — but he was rather tired now.

Hermione never took her eyes off Andromeda Tonks who still seemed to scream and curse under her breath but her wandless magic wasn't that well and not even the Silencing Charm could be lifted. She hadn't even taken her eyes off her when she had cast her Patronus and had sent for Harry. Harry would know what to do.

She wondered why Snape wanted her to call the Muggle police. Wanted her to give that woman Veritaserum before handing her over to the Muggle authorities. She couldn't understand it but while she waited, she thought about what that woman had said, would let her mind wander back to her forced confession. She had not, in the end, had reasonable arguments for doing what she had done. It was mere madness, Hermione thought, but that woman had always seemed so sane, and she had sacrificed so much for the cause, she had lost more than anyone, it seemed almost like a law in itself that she should go bonkers. All she had left was, after all, Teddy...

Teddy, she thought, her eyes widening, Teddy was somewhere and no matter what, he could not be brought up by a nutjob of a woman. Not by this woman, with the pink eyes and the pink cheeks and the mouth wide open. But who else...of course, there was only one who could, who would...

"Hermione?" she heard from outside and with a last glare, she turned her back for a brief second on Andromeda Tonks.

"I'm in here," she shouted back. Harry. Harry was Teddy's godfather. And there were no other relatives and that would mean. "Harry," she gasped.

"Yeah, I'm here, what's going on?" he stumbled into the darkness of the house and she could hear another pair of footsteps on the dirty ground and another head, a familiar head was visible just behind him.

"Ron?" she asked curiously, her eyes being used to the dimness by now and his red hair shone even in that hall.

"Yeah, Hermione, it sounded like this was urgent," he said.

"It is urgent," she hissed. "Look."

"What's she doing there?" Ron asked, pushing Hermione aside and seemed to want to untie her. "Did you find her like that?"

"No, Ron," she cried. "She took Aideen."

"Took Aideen?" Harry asked, frowning. "What happened to Aideen?"

"She was taken, Harry, that's why I was out all day yesterday and today," she sighed. "And she's the one who did the...you know, the rest." She handed him the Veritaserum. "We got a confession. She said she put the curse on Hestia Jones, and on Malfoy and he wanted to take Aideen and make it look like Draco had done it."

"Who's Aideen?" Ron asked, frowning. "And who's 'we'?"

"Didn't you tell him?" Hermione asked Harry who shook his head.

"Aideen is Draco's girlfriend," she said briefly.

"Where you here with...?" asked Harry and Hermione could feel a faint blush creep in her cheeks. Some things were returning to the front of her mind — his leg between hers, his hand on her stomach. Her hand on his thigh. The way he had so leisurely strolled away with the mobile phone pressed against his ear and his backside so...no. She would not resurrect Head-Severus. Definitely not.

"Snape, yes," she sighed.

"Snape?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yes, Snape. Aideen is Draco's girlfriend. Draco lives with Mrs Callaghan who is Snape's neighbour," she replied swiftly.

"Malfoy?" Ron asked. "Malfoy lives with an old witch?"

"Draco lives with a Muggle woman," Harry said softly, losing his battle with the grin that spread across his features.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Oi, boys, could we maybe focus on this?" sighed Hermione, pointing at Andromeda Tonks.

"Did he just leave?" asked Harry.

"Snape? Yes. He said to either call the Muggle police or the Aurors. And I didn't know which, so I send you the Patronus."

"She put the curse on Snape?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded sadly, "She's obviously gone round the bend. You should have heard her speak."

"I can't hear her at all," remarked Harry.

"Ah, sorry, Silencing Charm," she smirked. "It was his idea."

"You worked with Snape on this? Snape helped? But he doesn't have a wand, he can't do magic, or did he get it back or..." Ron stuttered, his face with the slightest pink tinge.

"We worked together, yes," she sighed, "but he did this, actually. I was only the means of transportation," she shrugged. "It would have otherwise taken a while for him to get here."

"What?" this time it was Harry who asked.

Hermione sighed, then went back in time in her head. How had that begun...ah, yes. "Draco called me to ask if I had heard from her since she hadn't arrived in time back home. Well, Manchester-home. Not London-home."

"She said she would leave," nodded Harry and Hermione, as well, had to bite back her smile. Poor Ron. No, she really felt sorry for him, even if it was a bit funny. But their lives had moved on, without Ron, they had made new acquaintances, she had made a good friend in Aideen and they both had, through Aideen and through Draco, contact with Snape. They spoke about Draco as Draco, not Malfoy. Things had happened and he had not been a part of it. But the way he looked at her, speechless and sort of absolutely surprised, was funny. She would have to tell him though, the entire story, and if only for the sake that he stopped looking like that. But first — that woman, still bound and silent on the chair.

"Harry, which do we do?" she asked.

"And you are?" the evil-looking nurse asked grumpily.

Aideen still felt a little woozy from the meds she had been given and she wasn't exactly sure yet what had happened at all, but she knew that person standing there and she knew she wanted to go home. He had rescued her, he would bring her home as well. And home was where she wanted to go. She wanted to see her mother and her father and gran and Draco. They'd all be so worried about her and she didn't even know yet how long she had been gone. The pain in her arm was gone, the pain in her head was gone. But her arm felt itchy and hot and heavy and her head woozy and she felt like she saw the world through a bubble, through lenses, through some weird spectacles.

But she wasn't stupid and she hadn't lost her wits entirely. She wasn't sure where she was, but she knew where she wanted to go and with Severus, she was safe. But wasn't the rule family only? Wasn't the rule...she shook her head a little and blinked lazily. She felt sort of fine, except for the woozy head and the heavy and hot and itchy arm and she didn't want to stay at the hospital. Family only.

"He's my stepbrother," she said and her tongue felt sort of lazy as well.

"Is that true?" the evil-looking nurse asked Severus. Severus who had got her out of that cellar. Severus who had somehow carried her outside and the next thing she had known was that someone had put her arm in a cast and had given her another shot of another something.

But she wanted to go home. With Severus.

"Yes," she heard him drawl. "She is my stepsister."

"I cannot let her go without her signing that form," the grumpy nurse said.

"I will sign," said Aideen suddenly. Well, her tongue said, her head needed a moment to catch up.

"Fine," the nurse said and handed Aideen a form. "But you need to take her to the doctor. That arm isn't..."

"Yes," she heard Severus drawl again. "We will."

Before her woozy head could process what was happening, she felt Severus's arm around her shoulders and she felt herself walking out of that hospital.

He hated dealing with people. More than anything, really. To explain to that nurse that it had been an accident with a bicycle, and that he wanted to take Aideen home, something she clearly wanted to as well, would have been so much simpler if he had a wand and could actually Confound people.

But it had worked, despite everything and despite Aideen's obviously drugged state, they had managed to get onto a train. She had held out until they had their seats and a moment later, really, the train hadn't started moving yet, she had sunk her head onto his shoulder and, her arm in a cast in her lap, she had made herself comfortable half on him and had flung her good arm across his chest and a moment later, and yet, another moment later, after a drowsy smile at him, she had almost fallen asleep.

He almost felt like taking a nap himself but he had things to do first. Awkwardly, he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the mobile phone. It was odd, though, he realised, that he did so with one hand only, the other, somehow, couldn't be pulled away from Aideen's shoulders. No matter what he wanted to do, it stayed there, his thumb even softly stroking her shoulder.

Not that he couldn't manage to dial a number with one hand only, he could and he did without questioning it, without wondering why. He had rescued that girl, after all,and she had proclaimed herself his stepsister; in a manner of speaking, she almost was. In a manner of speaking, Eleanor had adopted him as a grandson, in a manner of speaking, she had adopted him as a son. In a manner of speaking, they had grown close and he had rescued her. He would make sure that she returned safely to her family. Hence the arm over her shoulder and the stroking finger. He thought.

He held the mobile close to his ear and waited. It was Eleanor's number at home, and he did hope that those two still waited and hadn't gone out on their own.

"Yes?" the ringing had stopped and Eleanor had answered, her voice frantic. He should have — yes, he should have called sooner. It had been irresponsible to wait that long, to make her wait like this, to let her worry. The guilt built in his stomach like a fire, being kindled, it grew and grew until the flames burning away the lining of his stomach and his oesophagus.