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Dark Gods In The Blood	By : Hayseed Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3951 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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A/N: And now, we
find out just where Snape�s been all these years. It�s going to take a bit to pry Hermione�s story out of her, as
she�s not been very forthcoming ;) Thanks for reading.

Summary: A wandering
student comes home, a broken man pays his penance, and a gruesome murder is
both more and less than it seems. Some
paths to self-discovery have more twists and turns than others.

Rating: R, for intermittent
dark themes, violence, and language

Disclaimer: Nothing
you read here (save the plot and bits of the text itself) belongs to me. Harry Potter and his cronies are the
property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. (and someone else, probably, but not
me). All chapter headings are properly
credited to their sources.

Dark Gods in the Blood

They sipped their
tea in silence, Ron looking back and forth between the two women as if he was
about to speak but deciding against it.

Oddly enough, it
was Fran�oise who broke the ice, setting her cup down on the tray with only a
small rattle. �So ...� she drawled,
tucking an errant lock of hair behind one ear, �did you have a pleasant trip,
Hermione? I can call you Hermione?�

�Oh, of course,�
she replied, disconcerted. �And I must
confess, my trip was somewhat lacking.
But that was my fault -- it was hastily planned and I had some difficulty getting
into the country.�

�Really?� Fran�oise
asked perfunctorily.

Shrugging, Hermione
found herself telling this woman far more than she�d originally planned. �One of my Portkeys took me through Russia
and they�ve apparently got a bit of a quarantine in certain parts right now, so
England was rather reluctant to let me in without complete documentation of my
whereabouts.�

�Russia?� she
echoed. �Where were you traveling
from?�

�Tibet,� she said,
hoping Fran�oise wouldn�t pry.

She didn�t. �Oh, how interesting,� she replied
blandly. �I�ve never been to Tibet
myself, but we were in Italy a couple of years ago. I�d always wanted to see Florence, you know, and ...� Trailing off, a single tear trickled down
her cheek as she collected herself.

�I�m sorry,�
Hermione said, not knowing exactly why she felt the need to apologize.

Fran�oise waved a
hand through her grief. �Everyone is,�
she said. �I am, too.�

Ron coughed into
the awkward silence, pouring himself some more tea. �How�re the kids?� he asked her quietly.

�Still sleeping,�
she said. �I heard some rustling from
Nicholas� room this morning after you�d already gone in, but I didn�t want to
bother him. He hasn�t been sleeping
well. But Alice should be up before
much longer. She usually wakes up
around nine-thirty:p>

�Late sleepers,
your kids,� Ron said, squeezing some lemon into his cup. �I remember when Ginny was little she used
to wake us all up at the crack of dawn.
That�s an awful way to get up, you know -- some little brat jumping up
and down on your bed, shouting. She
still does it at Christmas.�

Hermione smiled at
her saucer. �I always thought she was
such a quiet thing when we were young.�

�Quiet?� Fran�oise
asked with a raised eyebrow. �Ginny
Weasley?�

�Well, she was
always so nervous,� she defended herself.
�Around ... Har -- Harry.� There
-- almost no stumbling over his name that time. �Took her years to loosen up around him. He
hated that. Always wanted everyone to
treat him like a normal kid.�

Ron met her eyes
with a faint smile. �He did, didn�t
he?�

�Even though he
wasn�t,� she agreed, sipping at her tea.

Fran�oise regarded
their unfolding camaraderie with narrowed eyes, studying them intently,
emotionlessly.

All three adults
jumped, however, as an unmistakably young cry floated down the stairs. �Ah, that would be Alice,� Fran�oise said,
standing hastily.

But Ron beat her to
it, already standing at the foot of the stairs. �I�ll get her,� he said.
�You two stay put.� An was was
gone. Leaving Hermione alone with her,
with Harry�s widow.

They watched each
other carefully, Hermione still sipping her now lukewarm tea, Fran�oise folding
and unfolding her hands in her lap, not seeming to know where to put them.

�Why did you leave,
Hermione?� Fran�oise asked abruptly, startling Hermione so that a fair amount
of tea sloshed over the rim of her cup and into her lap.

�What?� Apparently Fran�oise did not believe in
pulling her punches.

She continued to
regard Hermione as if studying her under a microscope. �I�ve always wondered about you,� she said
briskly. �The great unknown in the
equation, you see. The little girl standing
beside Ron and ... Harry,� she choked out, �in all the school photographs. He talked about you,� she said wistfully,
surprising Hermione with her sudden warmth.
�He told our son stories about you from school. He loved you,� she said bitterly, again
changing gears with an abruptness that left Hermione breathless.

�And I l him himshe she admitted. �But we were never in
love.�

why, Hermione?� Fran�oise pressed.
�Why did you leave? Harry never
knew -- he never underst Her Hermione.�

Stop saying my name, she wanted to shout. �I left because I needed to,� she settled
on, wincing at the inadequacy of it.

�I hated you for it,ran�ran�oise said in a harsh voice. �I
hated you because he couldn�t. But now,
Hermione, now that I meet you and now that I can look in your eyes, I don�t
hate you.�

If she had known
this was the conversation she was to have this morning, Hermione would have
probably tried harder to sleep last night.
�Why are you ...?� she began, unwilling to finish the question.

Fran�oise laughed
shortly, a grim little smile flitting quickly across her lips. �Why am I telling you this?� she asked. �I don�t want to hate you. Maybe one day, I can even forgive you. But I just wanted you to know about the look
of hurt in his eyes whenever he thought t yot you.�

clasclass=MsoNormal>Breathing in
sharply, Hermione was surprised at how that cut her. Eyes widening, she was certain Fran�oise could see the pain in
her expression.

And in that moment,
she knew. She knew what Fran�oise was
trying to do and she knew what she had done.
�I am sorry,� she said. �I am sorry
for the pain I caused him and,� she added after a slight pause, �I am sorry for
the pain that I caused you through him.
But I cannot be sorry for how I have lived my life. If I had stayed here, I would have caused
far worse damage. I would have come to
resent everyone around me, hated them, even, for imprisoning me. There would be no fond memories. Can�t you see that?�

Fran�oise
sighed. �There are always two types of
sight. I can understand your meaning,
Hermione, but it will be a long time before I can bring myself to believe it.�

Bowing her head,
Hermione accepted the closest thing to forgiveness she would be offered. �All I can ask is for understanding.�

�Perhaps, Hermione,
we may someday be friends,� Fran�oise offered.

�You would be a
formidable ally,� she said with a hesitant smile. After a pause, Fran�oise returned it and Hermione allowed herself
to believe that they might be able to reach an understanding after all.

�She is,� Ron said
from the stairwell, �a formidable woman.
The only one I know, in fact, who successfully tells Harry what to do.�

�For-mud,� Alice
chirped in Ron�s arms. �Mummy for-mud.�

�That�s a bright
girl,� he told her, setting her on her unsteady feet. �As long as you keep that in mind, you and your mum will get
along just fine.�

Alice tugged
impatiently at the little dress Ron had put her in, lifting the hem as she
tottered toward Fran�oise. �Dress,� she
complained with a frown. �Itchy.�

�You look cute,
though,� Ron told her. �And you picked
it out your own self, young lady.�

�Itchy,� she
repeated, pulling harder. �Wuh!�

�Oh, all right,�
Fran�oise told her daughter, efficiently stripping off the dress and leaving
the toddler clothed only in a diaper.
�You little nudist,� she said fondly, watching Alice take off toward the
kitchen as fast as her feet could carry her.
�She hasn�t been wanting to wear clothes lately,� she told Hermione
apologetically.

�That will change
soon enough, I�m sure,� she replied.

To her surprise,
Fran�oise chuckled and then stood up to follow Alice, carrying the tea
tray. �I should fix her some
breakfast. And Nicholas will be down as
soon as he smells the bacon, I�m sure.�

�Do you need help?�
Ron offered.

�Since when have I
needed assistance with bacon and eggs?� she tossed back, disappearing through
the doorway.

�It�s nice to feel
needed,� he said, grinning as Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. �How are you holding up?� he asked her
seriously, switching gears. �I heard
raised voices.�

�We had a
surprisingly frank discussion,� she said.
�I think it helped her.�

�Did it help you?�

�I�m fine,� she
lied, knowing he wot cot convinced. �I
will be,� she amended at his frown, more truthful this time. �I�d known but it still hurts to be told.�

�We can talk about
it later,� Ron said placatingly.

Hermione accepted
his offering with a grateful nod, leaning into the hand he placed on her
shoulder. �It�s harder than I�d ever
imagined.�

�It will get harder
yet before we are through,� he said cryptically.

It was her turn to
frown. �Since when did you begin
prognosticating, Ron Weasley?�

He grinned. �That�s not a prediction. That�s just truth. Would you like to see the rest of the house? I know Fran�oise would give you the grand
tour, but she�s busy feeding the starving masses.�

�I know about the parlor,�
she said, glancing around the room.
�And I�m sure you were dying to tell me all about the sconces in the
foyer.�

�The staircase was
just repaired,� Ron told her. �Harry
always preferred to say �refurbished,� but that was because he didn�t want to
admit that his house was falling apart.�

Standing, she
continued to look around at her surroundings.
�It�s not falling apart,� she retorted.
�It looks ... comfortable.�

�You should have
seen it right after they moved in,� he said.
�Fran�oise was pregnant with Nicholas and she fell in love with the
place, so Harry bought it for her. If I
remember correctly, the realtor called it �a fixer-upper with potential,� which
is real-estate babble for �old, crumbling antique.��

�It�s Victorian,� Hermione defended. �And
they�ve done a lovely job with it if it was that run down.�

�After Nicholas is
up and about, you should go up and see the kids� playroom,� he said. �Harry got Dumbledore to help him put charms
up so that the walls look like whatever game the kids happen to be playing that
day. Although it gets confused when
both of them are in there -- a few months ago, I remember Alice having a tea
party in the jungle with a handful of lions and elephants because Nicholas was
trying to play safari at the same time.�

Hermione
giggled. �It sounds like a kid�s
paradise.�

�Oh, it is,� Ron
agreed. pan>pan>�It was one of the first rooms
they finished -- right after Nicholas was born.�

�I wish ...� she
said. �I just wish ...�

�I know,� he said
to her unspoken thought. �But there�s
no sense in regrets, love.�

Sighing, she
allowed him to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. �I try not to regret,� she replied. �But I find it an increasingly difficult
battle.�

�Battles have a
nasty way of doing that,� he replied, squeezing her shoulders in an achingly
familiar gesture from her childhood.
�When you start to fight and you see the whole battlefield spread out in
front of you, it looks quite easy -- endless possibilities for victory. But the closer and closer you come to the
end, the worse everything looks.�

She wrinkled her
nose up at him and pulled out of his loose embrace. �I can certainly tell that you grew up playing
chess.�

�Shut up,� he said
amiably. �We find our metaphors where
we can.�

�Well ... I believe
that you have a staircase to show me,� she said, moving to stand by the
doorway. �And some sconces. If I�m going on a house tour, I absolutely
insist on sconces.�

Ron followed her
nearly sheepishly. �You might be
disappointed there,� he answered.
�Harry and Fran�oise are a bit too modern for sconces. There might be an old painting or two,
though, that I can pacify you with.
Although I don�t know a damn thing about them -- Fran�oise dredged them
up from somewhere. Apparently they�re
very artistically significant, you see.�

�Lay on, then,� she
said, allowing him to sidle past her in the archway.

They were standing
in front of what Ron thought was an old Vermeer** copy, the only part of which
Hermione found remotely interesting was the large, gaudy gilt frame, when there
was a loud knock at the front door. She
gave him a questioning look and he shrugged in response.

A few moments
later, however, Fran�oise called out Ron�s name from the front of the
house. Abandoning the Vermeer copy with
something akin to relish, they made their way back to the parlor, where Albus
Dumbledore sat complacently on a sofa, cradling a teacup in one hand and
balancing Alice Potter on his knee with the other.

�Ah, Ron,� he said
airily. �How are you holding up, my
boy?�

Ron sat down
himself in a chair opposite from their old headmaster and folded his hands in
his lap. �I�m fine,� he replied. �As fine as can be, really.�

�Good, good,�
Dumbledore said. �I just wanted to drop
by and make sure that everyone was all right.
And, of course, to take a cup of Fran�oise�s excellent tea. Quite exceptional, really.�

Hermione found
herself blinking back tears as childhood memories of this man came washing back
over her. He�d always been in the
background, strong and gentle.
Apparently, he�d never left. The
adoring look on Alice�s face as she gazed up at him told Hermione that he�d
continued to be a strong presence in the life of Harry Potter, at least.

But was that so
surprising? Albus Dumbledore played
such an integral, paternal role in Harry�s youth -- it was probably inevitable
for them to extend that relationship through Harry�s adulthood.

Short though it
be
been.

But Dumbledore�s
wandering eye had finally settled on her.
�I see you have company,� he said mostly to Fran�oise, sharp gaze
transfixing her own, freezing her in her stance.

She inclined her
head. �Good morning, Professor
Dumbledore,� she said. �It�s good to
see you again.�

A single eyebrow
rose and he leice ice scramble out of his lap to tug impatiently at Ron�s
trouser leg. �I�m afraid you have me at
a disadvantage,� he replied politely.

Permitting herself
a small smile, Hermione sat down in the empty chair beside Ron�s. �It�s Hermione Granger, sir,� she said, wondering
what his reaction would be.

Typical
Dumbledore. If she�d thought Molly
Weasley was nonplussed upon seeing her standing in the hallway, it was nothing
to Dumbledore.

�The indubitable
Miss Granger,� he said, eyes now picking up a decided sparkle. �How good to see you
again. I�d been led to believe that you
were out of the country, though.�

�I have been,� she
admitted. �But I came back, when I
heard ...�

He sighed and
sipped at his tea. �Ah, yes.�

They were silent
for a few moments as Dumbledore continued to drink his tea. Alice sat demurely in Ron�s lap,
occasionally reaching up to fiddle with his robes, searching his pockets with
the matter-of-factness that only the very young possess.

�And where is young
Nicholas?� he asked abruptly, eyes swiveling to fix on Fran�oise.

Her eyes went down
to her lap. �Sleeping,� she replied
shortly. �Or, in his room, at least.�

Dumbledore�s gaze
was sad. �He has taken this much harder
than anyone else.�

�He hasn�t spoken
since ...� Ron said, twirling a finger through Alice�s hair. �It�s been a week at least.�

�Unfortunately, I
think there is little we can do,� Dumbledore replied, setting the cup back in
its saucer. �Nicholas must come to
terms with everything in his own time.�

�What a despicable
sentiment,� Fran�oise said abruptly, sipping at her own tea. �Coming to terms ... if I live a hundred
more years, I won�t ever be able to ...�

Dumbledore gave a
wry little shrug and Hermione could swear that a small grin crossed his
face. �Perhaps my ... choice of
phrasing was inappropriate, then,� he said by way of apology.
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Dark Gods In The Blood