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[drhpluvr4l]

Ok, here's my new fanfic! This is about a relationship between Hermione and Snape that takes place in her seventh year. In part, this could be considered a book seven, because the war plays a main part in this story. Anyway, if you haven't read HBP, don't read this fic, and it is for the most part non-canon from book 7, though in later chapters some spoilers are thrown in (don't worry, I'll warn you!). I hope you enjoy it! And by the way, these characters are all the wonderful creations of J K Rowling, so the credit goes to her!

*

He was coming towards her, arms outstretched with a smirk on his face. She didn’t know who it was. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think; she only felt this strange emotion which seemed to cover her until she couldn’t breathe. Suddenly his features came out of the shadows and she knew him--

“Ahhhh!” Hermione jumped up in bed in a cold sweat. Oh, honestly! she thought when she realized that it was yet another dream. Ginny, in the bed beside her, stirred but did not wake since she was used to her friend waking in the middle of the night. Hermione looked at the clock, which said 3:42. She sighed and rolled over, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

This was the third night this week that she had had a dream about Severus Snape. She was becoming very agitated with the fact that she kept having these dreams, not to mention frustrated because she didn’t know why. What’s more- it was the strangest thing- in the dreams he was always approaching her, but she couldn’t tell what emotion she was feeling. She wanted to say that it was fear, but something was eating at her, telling her that it was something else.

Snape! Of all people, really, she thought to herself. Just the thought is disgusting. At least we have only have the year left of school, then I’ll be away from him for good and hopefully I’ll stop having these dreams.

She stared out the window, where a gentle snow was falling. It was the week after Christmas break, but Hermione had stayed at the castle.

She let her thoughts wander to the War. The Order was deep in the middle of the War against Voldemort, and they weren’t getting very far. Harry and Ron had gone to search for the horcruxes, while Hermione and Ginny had stayed at Hogwarts. Technically, they weren’t students anymore, but they had to make it appear that they were. They were members of the Order, and they were to use any resources at the castle to help the leaders of the Order with whatever they needed. They were the investigative members, so to speak, as they could leave Hogwarts at any time to search for any leads they were given from Harry and Ron as to information on Voldemort and his army.

Neither of them wanted the job in the first place, though. Hermione and Ginny had both wanted very strongly to go with Harry, but McGonagall was very serious on the fact that they were needed to do other things, and Ron would be more suited to accompany him. These “other things” she had mentioned were not revealed to them yet; so far they have only been given small and seemingly unimportant jobs. Hermione frankly was beginning to think that she was being purposely kept from doing anything useful, and she was planning on speaking to McGonagall in the morning about this.

Hermione’s eyelids began to droop, and Snape entered her mind once more. Snape had returned about a month after the murder of Dumbledore and had apparently convinced McGonagall in one way or another that he was still trustworthy and could be of use to the Order. He was hiding from the world at Hogwarts, in his dungeons; and of course he wasn’t teaching.

Hermione knew that he had not revealed to anyone anything about that night last year- the night he killed Dumbledore, and if he said anything to McGonagall, her lips were shut tight. Frankly, no one knew what to believe about him; many members of the Order were outraged that he was being allowed back into their inner circle after what he had done (Hermione was one of these), but a select few trusted McGonagall’s decision. At the meetings, no one spoke to him besides Minerva, and he seemed very…. Hermione couldn’t even describe what he was like. He was withdrawn (with good reason, since just about everyone despised him) and as bitter as ever, but there was something else there. Hermione could sense it, at least. There was something soft that was creeping on him- his eyes were sunken and dark as if from countless sleepless nights, and he was pale as if from hunger and poor bodily care. It seemed like he didn’t care what anyone said to him, but at the same time it appeared that he cared so much that he sunk even farther away from the world. He never broke the same dark face he always had though, and Hermione wondered if she was the only one to notice something more.

***

Hermione woke up at seven o’clock, according to her magical alarm. She rolled out of bed and threw her clothes on. After the nights she had been having, she really didn’t care how her hair or makeup looked. She walked over to Ginny’s bed.

“Hey Ginny, wake up,” she pulled the covers off of her. “Come on, we need to go see McGonagall this morning, remember?”

“Jussgimmeeasecon,” was the muffled response from her face flat against the pillow. Hermione laughed at this, because it reminded her of Ron; he used to talk like that when he woke up early. As she was reminiscing, she got a burst of newly-opened anger over the fact that she was not with them. She couldn’t wait to tell McGonagall exactly what she thought.

After several more minutes, Ginny was finally ready to leave the dormitories. By 7:25, they were on their way to the Headmistress office, where McGonagall was currently residing. Ginny was chatting about something that Hermione, frankly, didn’t care much about. Her head was down slightly in concentration; she was thinking of exactly what she would say when they got there. Just as she turned a corner, she was jolted back to reality when she bumped into someone very hard. After the collision, she fell to the ground and the person dropped several papers.

“Oh, sorry, it was my fault,” Hermione looked up into the face of Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall’s nostrils flared slightly, but then she smiled a tight smile. “It’s all right. I needed to talk to you two anyway.” She was red in the face, as if she had just been in a fight with someone.

“Are you ok, Professor?” Ginny asked, noticing her appearance also.

“How many times have I told you to call me Minerva. You are adults and members of the Order now. In fact, that is just what I needed to talk to you about. And, yes, I’m fine,” she replied, but they could tell something had happened. “Come into my office, please. Caramel Clusters.” She motioned toward the door that just opened in front of them. They followed her in and took seats in front of her desk.

As McGonagall went to sit down, she stopped and walked to the window and the door, closing and locking both as if someone were watching them.

“I have received news from Harry and Ron,” she told them as she settled herself in the high Headmistress chair. Immediately Hermione and Ginny both made exclamations of joy, for they had not heard from them yet. McGonagall instantly shushed them.

“Yes, it is exciting, but you must keep your voices down,” Ginny was about to ask why, but thought better of it when she saw the glance McGonagall gave her. “They have destroyed one of the Horcruxes.”

“Which one,” Hermione asked.

“I do not know; they were very brief with their message. Everything is fine, but I now have assignments for the both of you which are of the utmost importance,” she paused and turned to Ginny. “Ginny, they have requested that information be dug up on the events of Voldemort’s childhood. I do not know why, but they want to know everything- where he lived, any relatives or friends that are in hiding, and information on the muggle side of things as to any strange happenings. I am putting you in charge of this, and in 10 days you are to report back to me with your findings.”

Ginny nodded. Hermione inwardly was jealous of her job, for she loved researching; she kept her mouth shut all the same. Next McGonagall turned to her.

“Hermione, I have thought about your assignment for awhile and, questionable as it is, Harry and Ron need you to do it regardless of your own opinions,” she said firmly. What could she possibly have me doing? Hermione shifted in her chair. “Harry has informed me that they will to be entering dangerous places in their search, and their supplies are running low. Also they will need several new supplies that only we can get for them right now.”

“What kind of supplies?”

She handed a list to Hermione, who readily took it. As she glanced at it, her face suddenly fell. These were all antidotes and potions, and extremely complicated ones at that.

“Profess- I mean, Minerva, I only know how to make about two on this list offhand, and there are around 30. How am I supposed to…,” she let her words trail off, for now she understood. Madam Pomfrey will be gone for several months on Order business, so she cannot make the health potions, and the only person left is….

“Yes, I’m aware of the fact that you do not know how to prepare most of these. That is why you must work with Severus,” Hermione gripped the armrest but held her tongue. “I would have him make them all himself, but with the time span we have, it will take two people. Your assignment is to make and bottle all of these in one month’s time. Harry needs them as soon as possible, so as you finish them, you are to give them to me and they will be sent to them. Also, you need to constantly be with Severus, so I have arranged for you to live in his quarters.”

“Live in his quarters!?” Hermione had not outwardly objected until now, but this was too far. “He’s a death eater and you want me to live with him?”

“Miss Granger, sit down this instant.” Hermione didn’t even realize that she had stood up. By calling her Miss Granger, McGonagall was admonishing her for her childlike outburst. “There will be no question of his side in this war. I am certain that he is faithful to the Order, and furthermore-“

“But how can you be sure? That dark mark on his arm seems to say a lot,” Ginny butted in. Hermione knew her to have a temper, and it was starting up.

“Control yourselves, the both of you!” McGonagall’s eyes flashed warningly. “As I said before, Harry and Ron need you to do this regardless of your opinions on the matter. This argument is over and you are to report to his quarters immediately, for he is expecting you.

“I just came back from telling him that you will be assisting him on this assignment, and he was,” she paused, looking for the right words, while her face became heated, “less than pleased. I would not give him another reason to dislike the situation, and that mean keeping all opinions to yourself.” This warning was very terse and straightforward, as if McGonagall already knew that she would say something to aggravate him. Hermione had a guess as to what the “opinions” she mentioned related to, and she knew that an altercation of some sort will be unavoidable, seeing as how they both hate each other.

“Fine, but I don’t even know where he’s living,” Hermione shot back angrily.

“Past his old potion’s classroom, there is a candle on the wall above a bench. Tap the candle three times and his door will appear.”

Hermione nodded curtly, and she and Ginny left her office.

*

All right, here's chapter one. I have several more chapters completed, but I don't know how fast I'll be able to get them up here. I'm hoping to get chapter 2 up later today or tomorrow. Here's the link to my feedback thread, and I would love it if everyone who reads this would comment on it. I haven't had great feedback for my other fics, and I'm hoping that this one will get it. Thanks for reading!

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 2


“Can you believe this?” Hermione said as Ginny closed the door. “I can not believe that she expects me to live with him for an entire month!”

“I know, I know. It’s too bad that you got that assignment,” Ginny replied quietly. She was a good friend to Hermione, and she knew that Hermione would much rather do the research that she was assigned. “I’ll come and visit you and take you out of there as much as I can.”

“Thanks, Gin,” she said. They walked toward the staircase, then went to opposite floors- Ginny to the library and Hermione to the dungeons. “Good luck,” Hermione told her.

“You’ll need it more than I will,” Ginny yelled back. Hermione slowly made her way down the stairs of the great castle and into the dark dungeons where she will be spending the next month of her life. It had been awhile since she had been down here, and she had forgotten how frightening it could be.

Finally she reached the potions classroom door, but her face fell. It was at the end of the corridor, which turned leading to a small area filled with several benches and candles. Hermione wasn’t sure which one to choose. Honestly, she couldn’t have told me which candle it was? She walked up to the first one on the left and tapped it 3 times. Nothing. Ok, wrong one. She moved to the next which, again, didn’t work.

Slightly irritated, she went to the next candle, which she started to tap with her wand. Once, twice…suddenly the bench below it began to morph into a door before she could tap it the third time. Hermione backed up, confused, when the new door opened, revealing Snape exiting his quarters.

“Is it really that difficult to tap a candle three times?” he spat at her.

“Yes in fact, when you don’t know which-“ she snapped back, but he shushed her before she could finish. He had his hand held up, and Hermione could tell that he was listening intently to something. She couldn’t hear anything, and she started to turn around when someone started to turn the corner of the hallway. She felt Snape grab her by the waist and pull her into his room, transforming the door back to a bench on the way.

He released her, and with the sudden stop of movement she stumbled to the floor for the second time in a half hour. She didn’t like anyone grabbing her like that; she immediately got up and smoothed her clothing out. “What did you do that for?”

He stared at her, incredulous of her stupidity. “No one knows I am here except for Order members. If someone saw me…you can imagine the consequences. The outside world wants me sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss, and I’m not going to risk that because you couldn’t find the right door,” he said testily. Hermione stared hard at him, locking his gaze.

“You must be careful leaving and coming here. I will not stand for blatant disregard for my safety on your account,” he finished. The fierceness in his voice made Hermione drop her eyes from his. She was angry with him, but she was rather frightened of him at the same time. She didn’t trust him, and they were completely alone. She looked around the room for the first time.

It was dark and dreary; everything was either black or green and only the necessary living things were here. There were no windows, only candles that flickered harshly. There was a couch and two chairs in front of them. On the far wall was a large bookcase filled with potion and dark arts books. In the corner, Hermione presumed, was where their task would be done. There was a large table with a sink and several cauldrons on it. Other than that, the only things in the room were 4 doors on either side of them, not counting the door they had entered and a fireplace.

Snape saw her observing the room. “Listen to me carefully, for I will only repeat this once. The door on the right leads to the bathroom. You may shower in the morning, and it is mine at night. You are only to use the fireplace with floo powder if I tell you to. The door beside the cauldrons is where all the potion ingredients are kept, and you will only enter it if I tell you to get something. The door on the left is my room, which you are not to enter, and the last door is where you will sleep. Our rooms are connected, but I do not want you calling on me in the night for anything less than the Dark Lord himself trying to kill you. You may do what you like with your room, for I will be of no need of it once you are gone.”

The tone of his voice informed Hermione that he didn’t like the fact that she will be living with him. The moment was very awkward, for neither of them wanted the other to be there. Hermione stared at the floor, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t accusatory and would in turn make her stay even worse.

“So…uh, should we start?” she asked.

He had not been looking at her, and his eyes snapped to hers. It seemed like he had been at a different place and time in his mind. “Before we start, we need to discuss something like adults and I don’t want any interruptions,” his voice was harsh, but not mean. He held out his hand, motioning her to take a seat. She did, and then stared at him who chose not to sit.

“I know you question my loyalty to the Order, and I honestly don’t care what your opinions of me are. I don’t care what anyone thinks. But while you are here you are not to question my motives or allegiances at all. Will that be a problem?” He said the last sentence with force, as if daring her to say yes. He did not need to mention what motives he was talking about – she knew.

As for a reply, Hermione didn’t know what to do. She knew that it would be a problem, but she couldn’t say yes. She again stared at the floor, then up at him, trying to make him see her difficulty. He made no motion at all, so she simply shook her head in a feeble defeat.

“Good. And yes, we are to start now.”

They moved over to the table with the cauldrons on it. “I realize that you are fairly incompetent in potion making, so you will only do what I ask you to,” he sneered. She knew he was trying to make her angry, and she did not want to give him a reaction to work off of. Hermione looked at him with a calm face and awaited orders. “I will be making the Draught of the Living Death first; like several others, it takes a full moon cycle. Go into the storage room and get me the ingredients on the third shelf up directly to the right.”

Hermione did not hesitate, but she found it extremely aggravating that he didn’t want her to help. I’m top of my class in potions, quite frankly, and I won’t just hand him bottles all month long, she resolved. She opened the door of the room and gasped. It was completely full to bursting with ingredients of all sorts. The shelves were stacked around 20 high, and every one was labeled with a different potion. Apparently Snape has some time on his hands if he could make a shelf for every potion we’ll be making. Then it occurred to Hermione that he must have been sitting in his room every day with almost nothing to do. With a momentary lapse of thought, she took pity on him, for if she was alone in the dungeons for days on end she would surely go mad.

“Don’t bother hurrying, I’m sure Potter doesn’t need this very much,” Snape drawled sarcastically from the room. Hermione snapped back to her normal thoughts, and the anger filled her once more. She grabbed the 7 bottles he had requested and laid them on the table. Suddenly she remembered something she had forgot about long ago, that first potion lesson. “What do I get when I combine root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?”… Hermione knew the answer, the Draught of Living Death, if only he would call on her! …She thought it was ironic that the first potion he mentioned in their class was the first one they would make here. She watched as he put each ingredient (including the root of asphodel and the infusion of wormwood) in separately, stirring it clockwise here, counterclockwise there, cutting things exactly, and all from memory.

Hermione was fascinated with the art of potion making which made it even worse that she could only watch. She leaned back against the wall in utter boredom as he did the last step, then pick the cauldron up and put it in the corner of the room.

“Now it needs to sit for the entire moon cycle, then I will finish it. It is crucial that you do not go near it, for it has dangerous properties in this stage,” he said. He conjured a towel, wiped his hands on it, and then made it disappear with a flick of his wand.

The entire process of Snape sending her for ingredients, preparing a potion, and then setting it in the corner cycled 3 more times with the Dreamless Sleep potion, Healing Tonic, and the Empathy Elixir (by this last time, she had gotten too close to the elixir and inhaled a large dose of the fumes, at which point Snape pulled her away as if she was a small child, further irritating her). Hermione was annoyed, yet her love of potions began to overpower the annoyance. She never noticed how smooth Snape was with his movements, and how beautifully he prepared potions. I guess I was too busy hating him with Harry and Ron to realize that he could really teach me something about this subject.

Snape then went to sit down in his chair, interrupting her thoughts. She looked at the black clock on the wall, which said that it was 11:50. Unsure of what to do, she sat down on the couch across from him.

She wanted to ask him if she could help the next time, but then she noticed that his eyes were closed. There’s no way he could have fallen asleep so soon. Awkward second after awkward second passed, and she began to think more about this. What if he isn’t letting me help because he’s doing something wrong with the potions on purpose? That would make sense, because it could be jeopardizing the health of Harry or Ron and then the hunt for Voldemort’s horcruxes would stop. I’ll bet that’s just what he wants. Hermione thought that this was a fair possibility, and she couldn’t let it happen.

“Er…Professor?” she asked.

“Hmm?” was the reply. It was not angry, exasperated, or sneering, but tired. His eyes opened and turned to her. She noticed for the first time bags under his deep eyes.

“Er…I was just wondering if I could do something a little more…helpful the next time we prepare a potion,” she asked. She knew if she didn’t ask him now, she may never get this chance while he seemed to be in a fair mood.

“That depends if you can follow my directions precisely. We cannot afford to have mistakes… or for you to be inhaling every one that we make,” he replied quietly. She couldn’t tell if it was an accusation of her past actions or a joke, for he said it indifferently. Nonetheless, Hermione decided that this meant she could help. He began to speak again. “And you are no longer a pupil, nor I a teacher, so there is no need to call me professor. ‘Sir’ will suffice.”

Hermione nodded curtly and sat back on the couch. She was more confused than ever now, because if he wanted to harm Harry and Ron, he wouldn’t have agreed to let her assist with the potions. And why was he suddenly calm and tired, as if nothing happened at all?

Her stomach growled very loudly, rousing Snape from whatever daydream he was in. He glanced at her, irritated by the bodily function she had no control over.

“I take it you are hungry for lunch?” he drawled.

“Er, yes…Sir,” she replied with an emphasis on the sir.

He waved his wand and one meal appeared in front of him. “I also take it that you would probably like to eat in the Great Hall with the Weasley girl?”

“Well, can’t you…oh,” then it occurred to her, that he had conjured his own lunch for a reason. He certainly cannot just waltz into the Great Hall for food and expect not to be seen. He must eat every single meal alone. Hermione was filled with a sudden compassion for this very lonely man. “Er, I suppose I’ll eat here today, that way we can start again right after we eat.” She had been searching for any excuse but the truth – that she felt sorry for him.

”I don’t want your pity,” he spat, his teeth bared. Apparently he saw through her lie. He conjured another meal, nonetheless. There was a roast beef sandwich, potatoes, green peas, and fresh pumpkin juice laid out in front of her.

Without any explanation, Snape simply picked up his meal, carried it into his room, and shut the door. Hermione’s mouth dropped. Pity? I don’t pity him! She didn’t understand why he had reacted like that. Trying to forget about it for the moment, she began to eat her lunch, which didn’t taste very good. After about 15 minutes, she cleared her dishes and at the same time Snape exited his room.

“Thank you,” she said simply. He said nothing, but motioned for her to come over to the bookshelf.

“If you want to help, then take this book,” he had picked out a book (Simple Survival Potions for the Adventurous Wizard, by Holly Hopgrove) and handed it to her. His voice was very controlled, like he was trying not to yell, “and study the first three potions in your room. I have some things I need to do. Do not come out until I call for you.” The directions were curt, which was the only thing Snape was sure to be, but Hermione couldn’t help wondering what it was that Snape wanted to do. There’s no telling how long she could be in her room, so she asked,

“Can I look at some other books while I’m in there?”

Snape raised his eyebrows slightly, then repositioned them. “If you wish,” was the only answer, and he swept his arm across the air in front of the bookcase, asking her to pick them.

She looked at the beautiful bindings and picked Concoctions for the Bold at Heart, 1,000 Beneficial Brews, and Elixirs Through History. She turned and walked into her room, closing the door behind her. The last thing she saw was Snape standing there staring at her, waiting for her to shut her door.

Turning around, she was met by a very blank room. There was a bed with one pillow, dresser, mirror, and desk with no chair, all in different corners. Directly to her left was the door connecting her and Snape’s bedroom, which at that moment she swore never to enter. Everything was black, basically, and there was only one candle in the room. Well, he sure went all-out for my accommodations, she thought sarcastically. This black has got to go.

Using her magic, she changed everything from black to brilliant gold and red, and she added several more candles, one of the charmed windows that makes it appear like its looking outside (even though she was in the dungeons¬), a chair with a large cushion at her desk, a large mirror, and multiple soft, huge pillows on her bed. Now this looks like a room.

Lying down her three chosen books on the bed, she opened Simple Survival Potions for the Adventurous Wizard and began to read. After about thirty minutes of studying the makings of the potions he had told her, currently the Self-Protection Potion, her curiosity got the better of her. Closing the book, she tip-toed over to the door. She knew she couldn’t open it a crack, so she simply looked through the key hole. From what she could see, Snape was pacing the room with a vial full of liquid in his hand. It was fluorescent green, and blue mist was seeping through the cork and diffusing into the air. Hermione had never seen a liquid of any sort like this before. Apparently Snape was trying to decide something about it, because he would pace, stop, stare at it, shake his head, then repeat. When he gripped his left forearm, Hermione got a strange feeling like she was going to be seen.

Hermione moved to get away from the door when her head hit painfully off of the doorknob. She saw him let go of his arm and turn his head towards her, and she scrambled over to her desk, just sitting down with the open book when he walked in. She tried to appear as normal as possible, but her head was throbbing.

“What were you doing?” he asked her coldly.

“Studying the Self-Protection Potion at the moment. Why, what else should I be doing?” she replied with a smooth tone.

“Then what was that noise?” she knew he didn’t believe her.

“Er,” she thought fast, “I didn’t perform the spell of conjuring these candles very well, and the handle of the one above the desk fell…and hit me.” She added the last part in case he saw the bump she knew must be protruding from the top of her head.

He looked around the room, as if first noticing her redecoration. “Well,” his tone was like ice, “as you perform spells recklessly and carelessly, it was apparent that it would soon become obvious to you, and not just those around you.” At this rude remark, she met his eyes and immediately felt a strange sensation in her mind. He’s using Legilimency on me, she knew it because she had read so much about it. Fortunately, in their fifth year, she had read up on Occlumency as well when Snape was trying to teach Harry, so she felt she could do it well. She closed her mind to Snape’s protruding one, and managed to keep him from entering it.

He took his gaze from hers, then raised his eyebrows with surprise. “Who taught you Occlumency?” he questioned her.

“I taught myself,” she replied. She knew that she had impressed him, but he did not say anything more. He turned and left the room, locking the door and charming the key hole shut as he went. Hermione inwardly laughed at this, then turned her eyes to the other books on the bed.

A thought came to her. If I can look through these books and find a potion that looks fluorescent green with blue mist when it is finished, I might be able to figure out what Snape’s up to. Involuntarily looking at the door to make sure he wasn’t coming again, she jumped on her bed and began flipping through the books for anything that resembled what she had seen him carrying. After looking at every single page, racking her brain, and wasting an hour and a half, she came to the conclusion that it was in none of these books, nor in any book she had read; it must be related to the Dark Arts. What could it be? This is driving me mad!

*

There's Chapter 2! All right, I will be away next week, so there won't be any more updates until then, that's why I tried to make this one longer. I migth be able to squeeze in enough time tomorrow morning to post Chapter 3, but I'm not making promises. Here's the feedback thread. Please leave me some replies; I love to hear from you. Thanks!

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 3

Hermione was bored beyond words. As she looked at the clock she conjured, she sighed deeply. It was 6:30. Snape had kept her in her room for hours, and she couldn’t take it any longer. She pulled out her wand and started to unlock the door.

“Aloham – “ before she could finish, Snape opened the door from the other side. He smirked at her escape attempt.

“Eager to come out, are we?” he seemed to like the fact that he had had control over her for the past 6 hours.

“Well, six hours in there, honestly!” she was fuming. He raised one eyebrow and breathed out in an exasperated way. Oh, I get it. He was telling her what it’s like for him. He’s been in here for days and days all locked up like she was most of the day, but it’s a thousand times worse for him for a couple reasons: 1- only a few people even know he’s here at all and 2- almost everyone that knows he’s here hates him. Deep down she felt sorry for him, but other than that it was the same strong dislike that she had felt since she was a first year, but even more so.

“You forgot to bring your things when you came this morning,” he drawled, ignoring her comment. “Go and get them. If you take to long, I’ll signal you, and you must return immediately.”

Hermione looked up at him, puzzled. “How are you going to signal for me?”

Snape got out his wand. He lifted her right arm and touched the tip of his wand to the back of her hand. Hermione stared at it, because nothing had happened.

“What did you do?” she asked. By now she was genuinely interested.

He rolled his eyes lazily at her. “It’s just a light Connection Charm. You are now connected to me, and it will burn when you are to come.” He looked at her still confused face. “Oh, surely you have heard of a Connection Charm? Well, no you probably haven’t, seeing as how you surround yourself with books of unquestionable nature.” By the way he stressed the unquestionable nature, Hermione figured that he thought she didn’t look at any books that deal with the Dark Arts. She hated it when people thought she was a goody-two-shoes, and Snape was certainly no exception.

“You’re lucky I’m only giving you the light version,” Snape added, ignoring her look of defiance. When he said this, there was something vicious in his voice. “Now, go get your things.”

As she turned to leave, she could have sworn that he grabbed his Dark Mark again, but it was so fast that she couldn’t be sure. She left his quarters and went out into the corridor. She instantly noticed fresher air; the air in his room was stale and stuffy. On her way to Gryffindor tower, Hermione passed the Great Hall and spotted Ginny eating dinner. Taking a little side trip, Hermione went over to her friend.

“So how’s the research going?” she asked her. Ginny immediately turned around and smiled.

“Oh, hey! It’s slow, but progressing. How are you doing?” her first reaction of happiness turned to anxiousness as she questioned Hermione.

“Oh, er, it’s all right. I’d rather be with you, but nothing’s really happened except for the fact that he locked me in my room for 6 hours.”

“Six hours!” Ginny gasped loudly. McGonagall at the head table shot them a glance, which they received and lowered their voices. “What a git!” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied. “Speaking of which, I have to get my things and go back immediately, or he will ‘summon’ me. So I’d better be going.”

“Summon like the coins we used in the DA?” Ginny asked her as she turned to leave.

“No, he touched my hand and used a ‘Connecting Charm’. I’ll have to read up on it. Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

Hermione waved as she left the Great Hall. Climbing stair after stair, she finally reached her dormitory. Reaching under her four-poster bed, she pulled out her trunk full of clothes. Suddenly her hand burned white-hot, so hot that she felt her skin must certainly melt away. Ginny’s right – what a git; he couldn’t give me a full 10 minutes at least, she thought as she conjured ice, but the sensation didn’t stop.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled her trunk out the portrait hole and began walking as fast as she could to the dungeons. When she finally reached it, she whipped out her wand, tapped the candle three times, then fell in the door. The pain instantly stopped. Her jaw set, she turned to look at Snape releasing his wand from his hand.

“My, my, you are slow. Time is precious, do not waste it when you are summoned,” he said softly, the side of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

Hermione could not believe the man in front of her. I cannot be summoned like an animal, she longed to shout, but she remembered McGonagall’s warning and held her tongue. Then yet another realization hit her. This must be what it feels like to be summoned by Voldemort, only that would be much worse. Hermione wasn’t sure if Snape was doing these things to give her insight into his life, or if she was overanalyzing everything he did. Either way, she didn’t like it much, and she wished he would simply let her help with potions like she was sent here to do and that would be the end of it. Of course it can’t be that easy, she thought sarcastically. He is angry that McGonagall didn’t think he could handle it by himself, and he’s taking it out on me. Like I would even be here if I had a choice!

“Put those in your room, and then we must make another potion.” Hermione obeyed without comment. It was proving very difficult to keep all her thoughts to herself, and she had a feeling that soon there was going to be an outburst.

She returned after laying her trunk on the bed, and they walked over to the cauldrons. “You wanted to make a potion, and now is your only chance to prove yourself. Make the Self-Protection Potion.”

She looked up at him confused. “Now?” she asked.

“No, we shall wait until Potter is dead to make it – yes now!” he sneered. “And do it from memory.”

Hermione knew that she knew how to do it; it was just the situation that made her uncomfortable. He was looming over her, just waiting for her to make a mistake. She began silently, trying to remember everything that she had read.

Add 3 slices…crush into fine pieces, stir 13 times…counterclockwise or clockwise? She couldn’t remember which way to stir the potion, and it can make all the difference. Up to this point she had done everything perfectly, so she risked asking him.

“Er, Sir, do I stir this clockwise or counterclockwise?” asked Hermione carefully.

He paused, then said, “You tell me.” He smirked, then waited for her to continue.

She didn’t have the faintest guess which was correct, so she chanced counterclockwise. It suddenly turned the pale shade of yellow that she had seen in the book. Yes!

”I’m finished, Sir.”

He walked over to it, poured more than half of it into a large vial, then looked at it. “Satisfactory,” he said disapprovingly, as if he had been hoping she would mess up. Hermione was beaming. “Floo to McGonagall’s office and give her this.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to have a fireplace here? Can’t someone get here by flooing?” asked Hermione curiously.

Snape sighed obviously, which gave her the feeling that he once again thought she was stupid. “This room was not made until I started living here, so accommodations were made. We can floo to other fireplaces, but no one can floo here. McGonagall has lifted the Apparating charm, so that I can Apparate out of this room, but to come back I must Apparate outside the school grounds then walk back with a Disillusionment Charm…which is very inconvenient,” he added at the end. “You may go now.”

Hermione didn’t understand why he couldn’t simply Apparate back into the room. Obviously, he had to Apparate out if he was summoned by Voldemort, and he can’t waste any time if that happens, but what if something happened where he had to come right back? She didn’t voice her opinions, but simply nodded.

She followed his orders; Hermione grabbed the vial and a handful of floo powder from the mantle, stepped into the fire and said “Headmistress office!” clearly. The rush of green flames surrounded her, and in several seconds she found herself in McGonagall’s office. As she looked around, she realized that McGonagall wasn’t there at the moment. She put the vial on her desk and poked around for a spare bit of parchment, on which she wrote, “The Self-Protection Potion. We just finished it today, making good progress, signed Hermione.” As she turned around to floo back, she noticed an envelope that had been moved when she pulled the blank parchment from a pile of papers.

She started to put it back, but then she saw the address – it was to her! Slightly confused, she saw that the seal was already open. Why would McGonagall read a letter addressed to me? Hermione pulled the letter out and looked at the signature; she gasped. It was from Harry and Ron! At first she was happy, but then angry as she thought about it. Why hadn’t it been given to her?

Hermione just started to read the letter when she heard distant footsteps coming toward the office. Frightened, she stuffed the letter back into the envelope and back where it had been. She ran into the fireplace with floo powder in hand when she realized that no one could floo back to Snape’s room! Oh, I can’t STAND that man! He didn’t even stop me when I was so stupid as to completely floo here; he knew I would have to walk back, the git. There was no where to hide, so she grabbed the vial, put the note in her pocket and simply sat down in a chair, trying to look casual.

The door opened and McGonagall entered. When she turned around, she gave a little jump when she saw Hermione.

“Oh, Hermione! How did you get here?” she asked, her face pink with surprise.

“I flooed here. I, er, I just wanted to give you the first potion we finished, the Self-Protection Potion.” Hermione handed it to her. Then a thought came to her, and she went with it. “Um, Prof- I mean, Minerva, I was just wondering if Harry and Ron have sent any more mail. I’m just dying to hear from them directly, and they said they would send me something.”

McGonagall chose to stare at the potion for a full ten seconds before saying, “Oh, I’m afraid not. They must be very careful with their letters, as the owls are being watched. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t send any more for a long while, so as not to arouse suspicion.” She took a seat behind her desk and placed the hand on the stack of papers that Hermione new contained the very letter she was choosing to lie about. “Will that be all?” Her smile made Hermione wonder what was so significant that it needed hidden.

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione turned and left before McGonagall could take a second glance at her. I can not BELIEVE she would lie to my face like that! There must be something important in that letter. She made her way down the stairs towards the first floor corridor, when she spotted Ginny once more. I think I have a plan that will make it easy for me to get that letter.

*

There's chapter 3. I have until the end of this week to post as much as I can, because I will be gone for almost 2 weeks. But don't worry, I'll be writing this the whole time. Here's my feedback thread. Please comment! Until next post...

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[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 4

“Hey, Hermione, back so soon?” Ginny stopped her as they passed.

“Snape made me give something to McGonagall. Do you have a second? I have to tell you something,” Hermione replied. Ginny nodded eagerly, and they moved to the side of the hall behind a statue of Octivon the Ogre.

“I went to McGonagall’s office, and she wasn’t there, so I went over to her desk and guess what I found. There was a letter there addressed to me from Harry and Ron that she opened!” Ginny’s mouth dropped.

“She never said it was addressed to you!” she commented.

“I know, and when she came back I asked her if they had sent any more mail because they said they would send me something. She actually said no! Then she walked over to her desk and put her hand right where the letter was. Can you believe that?”

“No! So what are you going to do about it?” Ginny’s voice hinted that she wanted to be involved.

“I think I know. At about eleven tomorrow, can you go to her office and tell her something to get her out of there? Anything to get her far enough away that I can run in and get the letter and whatever else she might be hiding from us.”

“Sure, but where will you be?”

Hermione wasn’t sure yet. “I don’t know, but I’ll be around close enough to get in. Hey, I have to go, but I’ll see you at eleven.” They waved goodbye, and Hermione made her way back down to the dungeons for the second time in an hour. She did the correct procedure to make the door appear, and she stepped inside, her anger for Snape back once more.

He was sitting on the chair in front of her, smirking horribly. “Why didn’t you stop me?” she asked immediately.

He arranged his voice as silky as he could make it. “Only someone completely incompetent would have ignored what I just told you about this fireplace, so you could say that I was too amazed at your stupidity to stop you. I thought you would have stuck your head in the fire to see if Minerva was there, and then handed it to her if she was. Is that the obvious thing to do, or am I overreaching?”

Hermione did not want him to feel like he won in this, so she blurted out, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t stop me anyway.” Immediately she wished she hadn’t said that. She didn’t want him to know about the letter.

He raised one eyebrow. “Oh, really? May I ask why?” The way he said it made it very clear that he didn’t care if she wanted to tell him or not.

“Er, I got to talk to Ginny for a little bit, and McGonagall also. In fact, I’m supposed to go back tomorrow at…a quarter to eleven.” Technically she wasn’t lying. Once again she felt the strange sensation of Legilimency being used on her, but she instantly closed her mind. After about 3 seconds, Snape let go of her mind and stared angrily at her.

“You know, sir, it would be greatly appreciated if you asked my permission before you try to pry into my brain. It’s very rude; otherwise I will keep blocking you,” Hermione calmly said. At this statement, Snape raised both his eyebrows, then lowered them with apparent irritation. He did not have a comeback, which made Hermione make a mental note that she had won this argument.

“Oh, sir? Could you do something for me?” Hermione suddenly asked. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out before she got a chance to stop herself. Now that she had said it, Hermione hoped that Snape would agree to her request. That would be unlikely, though, since I chose the single worst moment to ask him this.

At her question, Snape stared at her questioningly. It was obvious that he had never dealt with someone like Hermione one-on-one, and he wasn’t too pleased about it. This noticeable on his face, he replied, “What.” It was not a question; it was a word that showed he probably wouldn’t do what she wanted.

“Well,” Hermione pushed on, “I was wondering if you could possibly…teach me Legilimency.” There was a pause in which Snape said nothing, so Hermione kept on talking out of nervousness. “I know I was just rather straightforward with you before, and I don’t expect you to agree to teach me, but I just think it would be a good idea since I’m part of the Order now. I learned Occlumency by myself, but Legilimency is much harder to learn. I am a fast learner, but I still need a good teacher – which I’m sure you’d be.”

She wanted to butter him up as much as she could without being obvious, and that last phrase seemed to have hit some kind of mark. Snape’s face was complete surprise, for he had not had anyone compliment him in a very long time. He stared into Hermione’s most innocent-looking face, then looked to the side.

“I suppose…that Legilimency would be a beneficial thing for you, but if you want to learn you must prove yourself to be completely responsible and mature. Legilimency is not a toy, and I will expect a completely controlled student. If you show yourself to be immature, I will not teach you, and if you misuse it, I will stop,” he replied in a sharp tone, to show that he was serious.

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “So you will teach me, then?” she asked, he did not reply, which seemed to mean yes. “Oh, thank you, sir!”

“Now, it’s 7:30, and I expect you are hungry again,” said Snape after a pause in a completely different voice, like it was a hindrance to feed her. She felt her stomach growl as she realized that she was indeed hungry.

He conjured another meal for her on the table, then went to go into the bathroom. “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked him before he entered it.

He turned around. “I have learned to eat only when necessary, and you would do well to do the same while you are here. I will be going to bed in several hours, and I don’t want you out in this room. You will go to your room at 10:00, and not exit it until 7:00, when you may shower.” He walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

“I have learned to eat only when necessary, and you would do well to do the same while you are here.” What on earth does that mean? Hermione thought his orders were unnecessarily strict, and she planned on ignoring them. She heard the shower turn on, and decided to put the letters out of her mind for the moment. She took the chance to look at some books to find out what that potion was she had seen him with earlier, all the while with a smile on her face; Hermione was so surprised and delighted that Snape consented to teach her.

As she was looking at the bindings, a thought came to her. She pulled out A Guide to Becoming a Dark Leader, and ran her finger down the index. Ha! The Connection Charm! She flipped to the correct page and read what it said.

“The Connection Charm is a simple but very effective spell that will connect you to one or hundreds of other people. When you touch your wand to another person’s body and perform the incantation below, you will instantly have a mental connection. This is mostly used for summoning (for example, if you wish to call someone to you, the part of the body you touched your wand to will burn). There are many different ways this charm can be applied, from using an image or words on the skin to creating a stronger mental connection [WARNING: in some cases, side effects have occurred]. The full list of uses is on page 263…”

Hermione fought the urge to look at page 263, as she realized that she didn’t know how long Snape would be in the bathroom. She put the book back in its place and began to quickly search for the mysterious potion. She got lucky, because it was in the second book she tried (Dark Drafts for the Deceitful at Heart ). As she skimmed the pages, she finally found its picture and read through the description.

“The Draught of Discovery is a very highly regarded potion in the Dark Arts, if only for the sole reason that it has never failed. This potion, when the correct spell is cast upon it, will let the drinker know where a person of threat to them is hiding. For example, in the well-known case of Devin the Devious (1121-1225), Devin used this potion to search for his enemy in hiding (Sir Seth the Steadfast) and managed to kill him [authors note: this incident caused the outlaw of the Draught of Discovery in 1167, and the brewer may prepare this at his own risk of arrest]. Over the past 10 years, it has been unable to be produced because of a shortage of the supply of crushed barbolla bone, a necessary ingredient, to ensure that it may not be used by the Dark Lord. Only a skilled potion master can prepare this potion, as it is extremely complex. The ingredients and instructions are listed below…”

Hermione stopped reading, her mind racing. She checked the date of the book, and sure enough, it was in print when Voldemort was at large some 20 years ago. She knew that crushed barbolla bone was very rare (since the barbolla is very difficult to find). It had not been sold to the public for the years that Voldemort was in hiding. Even if they had discontinued selling it because of Voldemort, Hermione had a feeling that Snape would probably have some from one source or another with his other ingredients. Well, of course he has it, because he made the potion!

Hermione could feel the gears of her brain fitting it all together. Snape obviously goes to Death Eater meetings, and when she had seen him with the potion, he had clutched his left forearm – where his Dark Mark was. What if…what if Voldemort told Snape to make this potion for him so that he could find Harry and Ron, who are destroying the horcruxes and indeed a threat to him? What if he wanted to use it to keep a location on Harry, his ultimate enemy planning on killing him in the end? AND SNAPE ACTUALLY MADE IT! She was fuming. It all made sense now. But then why didn’t he just give it to Voldemort already? Why did he just pace around with it?

While Hermione was thinking, Snape opened the bathroom door. She quickly hid the book under the cushion of the chair. He was wearing a silk robe, obviously for sleep, and he walked quickly to his room, not looking at her as he went. “Be in your room in five minutes – no more,” he drawled as he shut the door behind him.

It’s a good thing he didn’t look at her, because if he did she was sure that she would have snapped. Hermione knew that that potion was the Draught of Discovery, illegal if anything else, and Snape the Death Eater was traipsing around with it! Incredulous and infuriated with the man who just left her view, she pulled the book out from the cushion. She put it back on the shelf (she memorized its spot in the bookcase in case she wanted to see it again), ran into her room, slammed the door shut and fell onto her bed. Ok, so I know what is happening, but what do I do about it? Should I steal it or should I confront him? Unsurprisingly, Hermione fell quickly into a very uneasy sleep.

*

Ok, this one was a little shorter, only because the next chapter is probably one of the most important chapters. I hope to have chapter 5 posted before I leave so you all can think about it while you wait for chapter 6. Here's the feedback thread, and I hope you'll leave me some comments!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

**In the dream sequence of this chapter, I tried to piece everything together based on the different accounts from several chapters of the HBP. I think it’s about right, but if it’s not, please don’t criticize! Also, I had to quote some parts from the books, so as usual, all the credit does to JKR**

Chapter 5


She felt herself turn over in bed, so Hermione knew that she must be dreaming – but it was the realest dream she had ever had. She was in a sort of flashback, back to that… that horrible night. She was herself in the dream, but she couldn’t stop it or control what she said – it was all exactly what she had said and done before….

Hermione and Luna were standing outside Snape’s office and nothing was happening. Everything was as it should be, but there was uneasy feeling in the air. She was worried for Harry, who was in search of the Horcrux with Dumbledore, especially because he left the Felix Felicis with them. The more she thought about it, the more scared she became that maybe Harry was right, maybe Malfoy is going to try an attack tonight. Nevertheless, they were doing what he had told them- patrolling the halls, but this way they could be sure Snape didn’t have any surprises coming. Midnight was approaching, and just as Hermione leaned her head against the wall to take a rest, Professor Flitwick sprinted into the dungeons.

“Severus, the Death Eaters - they’re here! WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” he screamed as he passed without noticing them. Shocked and scared, she and Luna turned and watched as he burst into Snape’s office. They listened at the door to hear what was being said.

“Oh, Severus, the Death Eaters are here! You must come back up with me and help the Order. Hurry, there’s not much time!”

Silence…then…

THUMP

The girls wished they could have seen what was happening inside, when suddenly Snape hurtled out of his room and saw them. He could not have looked more surprised or unkempt, to say the least. His hair was matted in some places and sticking up in others, his face was pale, eyes bloodshot and wide at the sight of Hermione and Luna there.

“Is it true Professor? Are the Death Eaters here?” Luna asked him tentatively.

“Apparently,” he said in a terse voice, “Flitwick collapsed in my office. Go and take care of him; I’m going upstairs to help fight.” With that he had started running down the corridor and was gone.

“Professor Flitwick?” Hermione called as they stepped into the room. “Are you all right?” In front of a chair they spotted him, lying unconscious on the floor. “He must have passed out.”

“Or he may have been attacked by the Golkitoads. They hide under chairs and-”

“Not now Luna, we should move him out of here….”

The scene changed to something Hermione had not seen before. Instantly she knew what it was. She was running towards the Great Hall, but she wasn’t in her own body. With horror she recognized who she was inside. Greasy black hair surrounded her face and the black robes around her billowed as she ran- she was in Snape’s body.

Thoughts that weren’t her own pushed into her mind, and she realized that they must have been Snape’s thoughts:

This is it, no backing down. It must be done.

He – she rather – stormed up the stairs and into the battle. She felt him pull out his wand and run through the cursed barrier. Something tingled on her left arm – the Dark Mark. Then the scene opened up to her, and her, or his, eyes widened with the pressure she suddenly felt in her mind. It was not physical, but mental, as if Snape was having a slight panic, but that soon passed. She felt as his eyes swept the room, from the four Death Eaters including Greyback, to Draco, and finally landing on Dumbledore against the wall.

“We have a problem, Snape,” said the Death Eater beside her, “the boy doesn’t seem able –“

He was interrupted by another voice, a pleading voice that Hermione had never heard like that before. “Severus…,” Dumbledore said quietly. She never knew that he had pleaded for life; she thought that Snape had simply killed him. She wanted to cry, but Snape’s emotions filled her.

She walked towards him, and shoved Malfoy out of her way. She felt his face contort into the most hating and repulsed expression he could muster.

“Severus…please…”

The signal. Now or never.

She raised her wand and opened her mouth. The cold, cruel words “Avada Kedavra!” echoed from her lips and hit Dumbledore with a burst of green light. He was blasted in the air, then fell slowly over the battlements. Hermione was shaking, or maybe it was Snape – she couldn’t be sure.

Suddenly, a hex hit the ceiling, collapsing it on her. They were in a convenient space under the rubble, but a little more to the right and she would have been killed.

Bloody Death Eater.

Hermione was surprised at that particular thought, but then she was jerked back to what was happening when Draco Malfoy climbed through the debris to her. “Out of here, quickly,” their mouths moved as one. She grabbed him by his neck and forced him through the door.

Done. It’s over.

Hermione wanted to be sick, but she had a feeling that that was mutual between her and Snape. His face was etched with an emotion that she could not place. It wasn’t anger; it was more like…cold, hard. The feelings flooded her, and she knew that they were in preparation for what lie ahead.

Must be cold and hard to the world…not care about anything anymore…otherwise…won’t be able to survive after this.

That last thought of Snape’s was disconnected and weak, as if it was difficult or painful to think. She felt strange – numb almost, but then Snape, or Hermione, shook visibly and everything fell back into normal pace.

“It’s over, time to go!” her mouth opened and shouted one last time.

From now on, I shall be hated. The Order will despise me, and I shall never be trusted again. But that doesn’t matter, because I did what I was ordered do to. My allegiance is to Dumbledore is complete….

Everything began to swirl in a rush of colors, as Hermione seemed to float out of his body. Things were moving very fast as she caught bits of things being said across the grounds:

“Out of the way!”

“Run, Draco!”

“Sectum-“
“You dare use my own spells against me…I, the Half-Blood Prince…”

“Kill me like you killed him, you coward –“
“DON’T – CALL – ME – COWARD!”

She looked at the destruction one last time, and at Dumbledore’s crumpled body outside the castle, then everything around her changed to a place very dark, and a cold, cruel voice she had never heard before was saying,

”Get it to me, Severus. Make it perfectly and bring it to me in a week; no later or I’ll be very unhappy…and I know how much you like me when I’m unhappy with you.”

”My lord, are you sure that you wish –-“ the man’s voice from inside hood tried to speak. Hermione was inside him again - his head was bowed, then he looked up. For the first time, Hermione saw the venomous, terrifying face of Lord Voldemort. She tried to scream, but he spoke once more:

“Silence! Go!” was the reply, and Snape (and Hermione) was gone from the place.

Hermione’s eyes opened. The clock told her that she had been asleep for four hours into the night. Now she did not register that she had been dreaming, though. It felt like it had just happened – like she had actually done it.

Without meaning to, she began to cry. Sob, actually. She was crying for Dumbledore, for Harry and Ron, and for Snape himself, because she now knew what had been going through his mind. She knew that Voldemort had indeed told him to make the potion, but for some reason he held back. She knew that he was all right with being hated because he showed his last loyalty to Dumbledore. Hermione didn’t know what that last order was exactly, but Snape had done it. Maybe...just maybe…Dumbledore wanted him to kill him. He even said something about a signal. And Voldemort, that voice, that face! Hermione was terrified still. She continued to cry out of fear and understanding, and she did not care if Snape heard her or not.

Across from her, the door connecting her to Snape’s bedroom opened, and he stormed over to her, clearly furious. Suddenly, he saw the look of terror on her face and he ran beside her, for she would not look at him. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do.

“Miss Granger. Are you all right?” he asked. “What has happened?” His voice was neither comforting nor gentle, so Hermione simply shook her head. Snape was very concerned with her sudden outburst. His voice then dropped a level of anxiety and said, “Hermione, what’s wrong?”

This time Hermione looked up at him and met his eyes. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she noted the fact that he had called her Hermione for the first time, but she didn’t really hear it just now. His tone did not make her feel much better, but those eyes showed compassion deep inside them. Hermione tried to tell him, but only disconnected words came out between sobs. “Dream…I was you…Dumbledore….V-Voldemort.”

Snape’s face changed slightly, but she couldn’t tell if it was anger or surprise. He had more interest for what she had dreamt, now that she had said those two names. Hermione suddenly felt it all pass through her mind once more, and knew that he was using Legilimency to see what she had seen, but she did not resist it this time.

Instantly he stopped, and he stared at her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m sorry,” Hermione cried. “I understand….”

He was not saying anything, just searching her face. Finally he stood up and turned from her, his hands wiping his hair back from his eyes. “Empathy Elixir,” he murmured.

“S-Sorry?”

“The Empathy Elixir,” he said, very firmly, angrily this time, making her jump, “I knew you would have some sort of side effect from inhaling the fumes, but I had forgotten that this can happen in extreme cases. I had no idea you would…”

His voice trailed off. “What exactly did you see?” he asked quietly, and his voice told her that he was dreading the answer.

“You did Legilimency, don’t you know already?” she ventured to say.

He sat across from her again and gave her a hard look, but did not raise his voice. “I only saw some things, and I didn’t see thoughts. Now tell me what you saw…and heard.”

Hermione didn’t want to go through this again, but she forced her voice to be calm. “W-well, it started off that I was me, and I was reliving what happened down by your office…with Flitwick and everything. And then I – I became you. I was in your mind and I watched how it all happened…how you k-killed him. And I heard your thoughts, you thought something about a signal, and something about how you can’t care anymore about what people think and that your final allegiance to Dumbledore is complete. Then it kind of switched to you and V-Voldemort, and he was telling you to make something perfect and bring it to him in a week, but I don’t think you really wanted to, and - and then I saw his face.”

She couldn’t go on. She was staring at Snape, who was staring at the floor with his hands over his forehead, as if he had tried to forget everything until she had said it.

“Er, Sir?” Hermione had stopped crying by now, but she wanted to know something for sure. “Sir, it wasn’t for Voldemort, was it. It was for the Order. Right?”

Snape did not acknowledge her. Hermione felt awkward, like no one but him should have been inside his head at that moment, but she had to say this – she knew she was right.

“A-and the potion. You aren’t really going to give him the Draught of Discovery, are you?”

When she said the words ‘Draught of Discovery’, she thought that he surely must have gotten whiplash from how fast he turned to look at her. She looked down; clearly he thought she didn’t know any more than what she dreamt of it. “We will not discuss this now. I told you before not to question,” he voice was cold, frightening.

“No, I’m not questioning, from what I heard you thinking it seemed fairly clear that you were on our –“

“I said, WE WON’T DISCUSS THIS NOW,” he shouted. He would not look at her, and Hermione felt she had gone too far. “You are not to tell anyone of this.”

She nodded half-heartedly. He stormed back into his room and slammed the door behind him.

Hermione did not understand. Shouldn’t he be happy that I know he’s on our side? Shouldn’t he be grateful that I know I hated him unjustly, and that I do not despise him, like he thought? Oh… Hermione figured it out. They were private thoughts, and it’s the principle of the matter. He didn’t like that I had invaded his mind without him knowing, especially at such an emotional time. That was perfectly understandable, but she still had a very hard time falling asleep again.

When she did finally fall asleep though, one sentence kept playing through her subconscious mind – He called me Hermione….

*

Awww, I love this chapter, even though it's not exactly an 'awww'-worthy chapter, haha. OK, I can't make any promises about chapter 6, it'll be up if I can fit it in. Here's the feedback thread, comment me, please!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 6

Hermione yawned as she opened her eyes. What a night…was that all real? She was remembering her dream and Snape’s outburst when she rolled over and fell out of bed.

“Oh!” she breathed, making a loud thump as she hit the floor, completely waking her up. She shook her head to clear it, and then got up. She grabbed her bath bag from her trunk and walked out of her room.

Snape was stirring something inside a cauldron out in the main room. She crossed to the bathroom without looking at him, nor him at her. She walked into it and shut the door behind her. As she got the full look at the room around her, she gasped with surprise.

This was not like the rest of his quarters, and it certainly did not look like a bathroom Severus Snape would have. Everything was shiny black and white tile. There was a large sink with a bright mirror above it, and a toilet (no description needed). Aside from that there was a brilliant bathtub with 15 different faucets. This is almost like the prefect’s bathroom! she thought excitedly. Immediately she began to look at what the different faucets did, stripped, and got into the large tub, which was now filled with bright purple bubbles. Something felt strange though; maybe it was the fact that she was completely naked with Snape only 5 feet behind a closed door. Just to make herself feel better, she reached for her wand to lock the door, but found she had left it in her room. Great.

Still uneasy, she finished her bath quickly and began to get ready. She suddenly realized that her new bath robe was still in her trunk, and she accidentally brought her old one, which was several years old and not the proper length anymore. Are you kidding me? I have to walk past Snape like this?! Realizing she had no other choice, she pulled the robe over her body. She went towards the door and prayed that he would not look up, then pulled it open.

She pulled it down as far as it would go and tried to walk casually across the room, but it was no use. She could feel her heart beating like mad; surely he can hear it! She chanced a glance at him, and he was looking down. She was almost at her door when with her peripheral vision she saw Snape do a double take as he looked at her. Instantly he dropped his eyes, for both of them could sense the other’s embarrassment. Hermione scooted into her room and slammed the door shut, leaning on it from the inside. She was breathing heavily as if she had just run a race, and in her reflection in the mirror she saw that her face was very red.

Ok, why am I so embarrassed? It’s not like he saw anything. And why do I even care what he thinks of me? she thought angrily. To reassure herself, she stepped completely in front of the mirror. In that one look, she saw how much she had changed. Hermione had never really noticed it before; she remembered looking at herself when she was eleven years old, and now she was almost eighteen – an adult. She was slender and curved at just the right places (and to her discomfiture, the robe plainly showed that), her hair had lost some of its bushiness, and her deep brown eyes seemed to have melted down from the ugly murky color they had been as a child. She was beautiful.

Tearing herself from her reflection, she faced the fact that she must indeed leave the private comfort of her room and do her duties with Snape. Hermione pulled out her trunk and began to look through it for clothes. Out of all her school cloaks, she didn’t have any that were cool enough for this stiflingly shut place she now lived in. At the bottom of her trunk, she finally found a few muggle t-shirts and shorts she had brought just in case.

Unbelievable, she thought bitterly, examining her luck. She could just imagine what Snape would say after she walked past him in a very revealing robe, and then decided to wear rather short shorts. She stopped herself in the middle of this thought and shook her head violently, trying to clear it. I don’t care what Severus Snape thinks of me, and I will wear whatever I want to, she decided. Hermione put on a pair of blue jean shorts and a white tee. She charmed her hair dry with the tip of her wand and looked back in the mirror. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, and she confidently stepped out of her room, but not before putting up a strong outer shell for whatever reaction he might have.

The reaction turned out to be nothing. He was not looking at her, nor speaking (well, of course not, after last night. But it’s not like I tried to pry into his memories! Not that I’m not glad I saw what I did…). Hermione crossed the room; she was not intimidated now by the thought of trying to talk to him. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t mad at him anymore, that she really did understand. And then maybe, just maybe, he might tell her more and she could fill in all the blanks to the story everyone wanted to know since last June. Oh, who am I kidding, this is Snape! This is the man who has shut himself from everyone since he was a child, and I’m expecting him to just open up and tell me the story? This may be more difficult than I thought.

Unsure of how to start, she walked right up beside him and looked into the cauldron he was stirring. She didn’t know what it was, which puzzled her, for she nearly always knew a potion when she saw one almost finished.

”What are you making?” she asked him quite simply.

No reply.

“Sir, can I do anything to help?”

Once again, no reply. What a surprise.

At the moment, there was nothing she could think of to make him talk to her, so Hermione went to the bookcase, pulled out a book, and began to read it on the couch. If he’s going to ignore me, I’m not going to make a fool out of myself. She looked up at him once more, but his eyes were still fixed on the potion. As she turned her eyes back to the book, she could have sworn that he looked at her for an instant. She did not look back; but she was sure he had looked, which meant that he wasn’t as shut up this morning as she thought. After about 30 seconds, she looked up at him again, and his face was not disturbed as she thought it would be, so she decided to speak again.

“Er, is it all right if I leave around 10:45 this morning? I have to meet with McGonagall, remember?” As soon as she said that, his face lost whatever it had just had and turned back to the usual angry. He did not answer her, and she assumed that this must mean it would be ok. In the meantime while she was pretending to read her book, she went through the plan in her head.

OK, I’ll be up there a good fifteen minutes before Ginny will come. I’ll hide behind the tapestry near McGonagall’s office door, and when Ginny sends her off, I’ll sneak in and get that letter. Maybe there’s even more letters that they have sent that she’s keeping from me and Ginny.

Time crept by at an unreasonably slow pace. The entire three hours before she had to leave were spent in complete silence. Hermione conjured her own breakfast, while Snape did not eat at all. He finished two other potions in this time, while she read through the whole book she had picked up. She looked at the clock – she would have to leave in twenty minutes. Just as she got up to put the book back on the shelf, Snape snarled behind her, making her jump.

Hermione turned around and saw Snape holding his left forearm. He rolled up his sleeve and turned so she could not see, but she got a glimpse of the corner of his Dark Mark, which was brilliantly black. He pulled his sleeve back down, twisted around to face her and his eyes darted around his workplace, as if looking for something. In a second’s time, he apparently changed his mind and immediately Disapparated.

Hermione’s mind was working again. Ok, obviously there is a Death Eater meeting, and he was summoned. But what was he looking for? The Draught of Discovery, maybe, but that would mean that he didn’t take it! She smiled as she thought through this theory, then frowned. What if he already had it in his pocket and was looking for something else? I guess I won’t know until he comes back.

Looking at the clock, Hermione decided she had better leave now. She placed the book she was still holding in its place and exited her dormitory. She quietly made her way to the floor on which McGonagall’s office was situated. Silently she crept behind the tapestry near the door and waited. Her watch read 10:58. Any minute now. Then she heard footsteps approaching her hiding place. Was that Ginny or someone else? She couldn’t see anything from here.

Quickly another set of footsteps entered the scene, and then Hermione heard Ginny’s voice.

“Oh, Professor! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The other voice was obviously McGonagall. “I just came from my last class,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dennis Creevy! He’s in the Great Hall, and – and something’s wrong,” Hermione grinned in surprise when Ginny paused; she sounded really believable. “He just came down for lunch, and then he – he said something strange, and his eyes were red, and then he just collapsed! The other teachers sent everyone out, and they told me to come get you.”

“Go in my office and bring the vial on my desk down to the Great Hall, and then tell Hermione and Severus.” McGonagall’s voice was tight and frightened.

Instantly Hermione heard fast footsteps walking in the direction of the Great Hall. She peeked her head out of the tapestry and saw Ginny standing there, looking frantically around. Hermione stepped out from her hiding place and approached her friend, smiling.

“That was good, Ginny, but a little over the top. What is she going to say when she gets to the Great Hall?” she said, but then stopped when she saw Ginny’s face. It was very pale. “What is it?”

“I didn’t make up that story. It was like – it was like he was possessed. Everything I had forgot about Tom Riddle came back…I think it was Him,” Ginny replied quietly. She was obviously referring to Voldemort.

Oh no. Hermione’s smile dropped and her mouth was wide open. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I don’t remember the password to get into her office; I know she said it before….”

“Oh, it’s….Choc- no…oh! Caramel Clusters!” Hermione said loudly to the door, and it opened to them. “Come on!”

They ran into the office and looked at her desk. Ginny pointed at the vial. “That must be it.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, picking it up. “This is the Self-Protection Potion we made for Harry and Ron. They need it, and I don’t know if there’s enough left to send to them if we use this.”

Ginny took it from her. “Listen, you didn’t see him – the teachers don’t know exactly what happened, and they might need this for him if it really is something with, er, You-Know-Who.” Hermione knew that it must have frightened Ginny very much to make her say ‘You-Know-Who’ instead of Voldemort.

As Ginny went for the door, Hermione said, “Wait!” and leafed through the pile on the desk. She found two letters – one addressed to her, and one to Ginny. She stuffed them in her pocket and followed Ginny out.

“I got the letters, now let’s go to the Great Hall and see if we can help.”

“I’m supposed to get Snape first, but do you think we should ‘forget’ to do that?” Ginny put air quotes around ‘forget’, showing that she didn’t want to go and get him. Hermione stopped for a moment and stared at her friend. Ginny didn’t know what she knew about Snape, but she certainly didn’t feel like exposing everything to her yet. She didn’t know what to say, and in the meantime, Ginny voiced her opinions.

“Oh fine, we’d better get him. McGonagall wants me to; besides, the quicker we get that git, the quicker we can get there. We’re members of the Order, after all.” She added the last sentence reluctantly, as if she did not really want to go back down there. Then Hermione remembered that Snape wasn’t even there.

“We can’t get him; he’s not here.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Not here? Where else could he be?”

“He, er…,” Hermione couldn’t decide whether to tell her or not. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. “He was summoned to a Death Eater meeting, I think.”

Ginny turned around, opened her mouth, then closed it. Suddenly she let out an outburst that Hermione wasn’t expecting.

“He’s at a death eater meeting?! Now? Well, what else can we expect; he probably has something to do with what’s happening down there, and that’s why he’s conveniently not here to help us. I can’t believe that McGonagall is falling into the same trap that Dumbledore did. There’s no reason why he should be trusted, and this is perfect evidence! You know what, he –“

“Stop it!” Hermione exploded. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had thought the same thing before she had that dream, and now she felt so bad for him. It was so true – everyone hated him unjustly. She wanted her very best friend, at least, to know the truth…but his words echoed in her head. “You are not to tell anyone of this.” Something about how he said it made her want to keep that promise, regardless of her feelings. Meanwhile, Ginny was waiting angrily for an explanation of her abrupt interruption. “Er…we don’t have time. Like you said, we’re members of the Order now, and they need our help. Come on.”

Hermione didn’t wait for an answer; she simply started walking away. She heard hurried footsteps behind her which told her Ginny had caught up to her. “I’ve known you for a while, and I can tell when you’re not telling me something,” Ginny said. “And I can tell that whatever you aren’t telling me is important.” She waited for Hermione to say something.

“Look, Ginny, it’s not that I want to keep this from you, it’s that I have to. Please don’t ask me about it. I’ll tell you when I feel I can.”

Ginny was not one to give up easily. “It has something to do with Snape, I know it does. Come on, what’s the story here?”

Hermione was getting angry. She stopped and stared at Ginny. “I am not going to say anything now. As a friend, I think you owe it to me to respect the fact that I don’t want to tell you just yet. I promise I will… later.” She stepped onto the moving staircase and walked down it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny walking several feet behind her. Oh great, now she’s mad at me. Well, she can just stay mad because I’m sticking to what I said.

In about a minute she reached the entrance hall. It was crowded with the students that wanted to get inside for lunch, and everyone was whispering excitedly and swapping stories of what they saw. The doors were closed ahead of them. Hermione knew that if something really was wrong, the students shouldn’t be around.

Hermione ran back to the top of the nearest flight of steps and called all the attention to herself.

“Excuse me! You all need to return to your dormitories immediately, and someone will be around to explain what is happening later,” she called out. To her surprise, everyone seemed to think she had some kind of authority, and they followed her orders.

Hermione walked back down to the doors. Ginny stood beside her. Hermione looked at her and saw that that Ginny’s face was paler still.

“Are you all right?” she asked gently. She wanted Ginny to know that she was not angry with her.

Ginny ran her hands through her hair and nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just…it was so unnerving, to see him like that,” she paused and looked up at the great door. “That was a good idea of yours.” She gave a small smile, which soon disappeared. “Let’s go.”

With that, Hermione pushed on the door, but it did not open. “It’s Hermione and Ginny, open the door!” she said loudly.

It opened a crack and McGonagall’s face appeared in the crack. “Did you bring the vial?” Ginny held it up so she could see. “Where’s Severus?” she whispered.

“Oh, er, he left about half an hour ago. I think it was a…meeting,” Hermione replied, choosing her words carefully in case any student was lingering. McGonagall’s face darkened slightly, but her expression did not change.

“C-can we help?” Ginny asked.

McGonagall turned and looked into the Great Hall, then back at them. “If you wish, but if I tell you to leave, you must obey.”

They nodded, and she swung open the door.

*

Yay, I got chapter 6 up before I go! This chapter and the next several were rather difficult to write, so please forgive me if they are not satisfactory, as they are fast-paced and there's lots of surprises. I'd love to get a few more comments, so leave some at my feedback thread. Please don't forget my fic while I'm gone the next week and a half! Until then -

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 7

They stepped through the door quickly, and McGonagall immediately shut it behind them. The house tables were pushed against the walls, and Dennis Creevy was lying spread-eagle in the middle of the room. His eyes were closed and his chest was barely rising and falling, showing that his breathing was shallow.

There weren’t many teachers in the room. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, Hagrid, and (surprisingly) Trelawny were surrounding him. Also, Lupin, Tonks, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there. Lupin was kneeling beside Dennis and poking him certain places with his wand, shaking his head, then repeating.

“Mum, Dad!” Ginny said in a very relieved tone, and ran over to hug them, but her father raised a hand to stop her.

“Not now,” he murmured softly, turning his eyes back to Lupin. “What do you think Remus?”

“Well, I’m not sure how, but Voldemort was definitely possessing him. I believe that when Voldemort left him, he left him extremely weak – not to mention the shock.”

“He’s not…,” Professor Sprout began.

“No,” Lupin finished, “he’s alive, but barely. He needs immediate care.”

Professor Trelawny stepped to the front of the circle of people, her eyes bigger than the usual. “I foresaw this just this morning! The boy shall die, it was as clear as – “

“There’s no time for your optimism now, Sibyl,” McGonagall interrupted, her nostrils flaring. Trelawny whipped her shawl tighter around her in anger and retreated back to observation. “Ginny, give me the vial.”

Ginny handed it to her, and as she proceeded to pour it down Dennis’s throat, Hermione spoke up. “Wait, Minerva! Er, is it absolutely necessary for him to drink that?”

McGonagall looked appalled that she would ask such a question. “Of course! This might save him if there are any traces of dark magic still in him. Why on earth would you ask such a thing?” She again tried to give it to him, but Hermione interrupted once more.

“Please wait, if you give that to him, I don’t think there will be enough left to send to Harry and Ron!”

At that, there was a pause. “Surely Snape has enough ingredients to make another batch?” Mrs. Weasley reasoned.

Hermione had an answer to that. “We used up the last of two ingredients to make it. I assume that Snape will get more when he can, but last night he told me to give this to Minerva right away so she could send it along to them.”

“It’s a good thing you waited, Minerva, because he will need it,” Lupin said.

“Yes, but will he need it more than Harry or Ron could?” Ginny replied anxiously.

Again, there was a pause in the room. Finally McGonagall spoke. “This boy needs it now, and as of yet Potter does not. There’s not much time to waste, and this could save him.” With that, she poured the entire vial into his mouth, then propped him up so that he might swallow it.

Instantly a thin wisp of red smoke emitted from his mouth, and he shuddered. Dennis’s eyes snapped open and he looked around, terrified. “What happened? Where am I?” spoke Dennis in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s all right, everything’s fine. You’re in the Great Hall,” Lupin told him calmly. “Dennis, do you remember anything? It’s very important that you tell us.”

Dennis screwed up his eyes in concentration, but apparently nothing came to him. “I don’t remember anything. All I remember is the worst pain in the world, and then everything went black.” He closed his eyes again and rested his head.

“He must be extremely tired. Ginny,” McGonagall turned to her. “I will need you to care for him. He’s in no danger now, but,” she paused here, and lowered her voice so that Dennis could not here, “once he’s up to talking more, you must try to get him to tell you anything at all that might have happened to him that could help us explain how this occurred.”

Ginny nodded. “But what if he will not tell me?”

McGonagall turned to Hermione now. “Hermione, since we will not use veritaserum on a student, when Severus returns have him extract the memory from him if he has not already told Ginny.” She paused at Ginny’s skeptical face. “Severus is very gifted in that particular field.” She waved her wand and a stretcher appeared before her.

Mr. Weasley and Lupin lifted Dennis up very gently and placed him on the magical stretcher. “Take him to the hospital wing, and stay with him until we return,” McGonagall ordered.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked her.

Everyone looked at Hermione. “I daresay this calls for a meeting of the Order,” McGonagall replied simply. “We shall meet in my office and discuss this.”

“Can’t we come?” questioned Hermione. After all, we are members.

She sighed. “I suppose you may come, Hermione, but I need Ginny to remain with Dennis.”

Ginny looked as if she was going to object to this arrangement, but she held her tongue, for she knew it was important for her to be there if Dennis said anything. With a last look at her parents, and a look at Hermione which clearly said “Tell me everything”, Ginny charmed the stretcher to follow her as she left the Great Hall.

“Come, everyone,” McGonagall said shortly as she proceeded out of the Hall and in the general direction of her office. Everyone slowly proceeded after her, but Hermione lagged behind so she could walk with Tonks and the Weasleys.

“Oh hello, dear,” Mrs. Weasley smiled half-heartedly at her when she saw Hermione.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione replied. She knew that this was very serious, and she didn’t want to go into the meeting looking like she didn’t know what was happening, so she asked the only question that would help the situation. “What exactly happened?”

Tonks sighed and said what she knew. “From what we know, he was walking into lunch when Voldemort somehow entered him, and then he said something in Parseltongue. His eyes were red, he rose into the air, the whole nine yards; then suddenly he collapsed. We don’t know how Voldemort got to him, whether it was over Christmas break, or sometime when he was out near the forest – either way, this spells trouble.”

Hermione noted that if Tonks was being serious, then it must be trouble. Of course, this implied danger; this shows that Voldemort could somehow get to a student inside Hogwarts. By the time she had finished her thoughts, they were filing into McGonagall’s office, which seemed to have been magically expanded to fit them all. Everyone took a seat.

“Should we call all the members?” Tonks asked.

McGonagall thought on this for a moment, then said, “Not today. We can’t have them all coming into the castle; the students don’t need to know everything, and they will only question more if unknown wizards arrive. By the way, who dispersed them?”

Hermione raised her hand, which was met by an approving nod by Minerva. “On the other hand, every member who is at the castle should be here. Where is Hagrid?”

The moment she said that, Hagrid rushed through the door. “Sorry I’m late. Jus’ passed Ginny in the hall and she told me ter come to this meetin’. Did I miss anythin’?” Apparently he had been in his cabin at the time of the incident, and he didn’t know a thing. He was quickly filled in.

“Blimey, are yeh sure it was You-Know-Who?” he asked quietly, sinking into a chair.

“Yes, and I’ve told you before Hagrid, you must call him Voldemort now. You will only become more fearful if you refuse to say the name. Now, I call this impromptu meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to order. Does anyone have any suggestions as to how this might have happened?” McGonagall asked the room.

Mrs. Weasley suggested that Voldemort reached him over the holidays; Lupin reasoned that it might have happened through the use of a Dark object, but when Flitwick said it might have happened anywhere outdoors, Hagrid jumped up.

“I think yer onto it, Professor, I’ve jus’ remembered! He had Care o’ Magical Creatures with me before lunch. While we were ou’ there, he wandered into the forest fer a while, and I had the class all search fer him – gave me a right fright, he did. Well, one o’ the students found him in a clearin’ a ways in. They came back fine, and he said tha’ he jus’ got lost while he was lookin’ fer the group o’ us. Somethin’ wasn’t quite right with him, though. He acted kinda strange, bu’ not tha’ strange for a Creevy so I didn’ say anythin’.”

“Hagrid, I believe you’re right!” McGonagall gasped. “That clearing he was in, was it far enough off that you could Apparate there?”

Hagrid nodded.

“Shouldn’t we notify Colin Creevy? Where is he?” Lupin asked.

“Oh yes, Hermione, would you…?” McGonagall had started to speak, but her voice trailed off as Hermione gasped with sudden surprise, turning everyone to look at her. The hand that Snape had charmed had just turned ice cold – painfully cold. What on earth? I thought it was supposed to get hot when he called me. Suddenly she realized that everyone was staring at her.

“Er, sorry, I just remembered that I left a potion on to simmer, and I’ve left it on too long. Excuse me,” she lied quickly and ran out the door without another word.

As soon as she was out she looked at her hand, and to her astonishment, there was black writing on the back of it. It looked like someone had written on it with a quill. It said, “Forest”. Hermione tried to rub it off, but nothing happened. OK, something is definitely not right. She had the strangest feeling that she could not shake, so she decided to do the only apparent thing – go to the forest.

As she made her way out of the castle, walking as fast as she thought looked normal, she thought about what Snape had said before. “…to come back I must Apparate outside the school grounds then walk back with a Disillusionment Charm…” All right, so he had obviously Apparated back, but why is he calling me? Then she remembered what Hagrid had said about Dennis; Dennis had been found in a clearing of the Forbidden Forest near where people Apparate, and then he suddenly was found with Voldemort possessing him! Snape wouldn’t have…Snape wouldn’t have done something to help Voldemort do this, would he? I know he wouldn’t. But if that did happen, what am I going to find in the forest?

Something in the back of her mind was pressing on her, and she knew that she must hurry – but why must she hurry? She didn’t know. Putting her ice-cold hand in her pocket to try to warm it (to no effect), she began to run towards the forest. When she reached the edge, she stood for a moment, aware of the fact that she didn’t know where that clearing was, or even if Snape was there. That impulse in the back of her mind was still going strong, and without any reason she ran to her right and into the forest. It was bright outside, but soon she lost track of the sun beneath the dark trees as she went deeper.

“Lumos,” she ignited her wand end to help find her way. Hermione began to slow down, realizing that there very well could be something dangerous in her path. What if it’s a trap? What if Voldemort told Snape to summon me, only to deliver me right to him…! She could feel her heart pounding deep in her chest. She put these thoughts aside in light of the fact that if she began to worry, she surely would become more frightened then she needed to be. As she turned around the trunk of a large tree, the clearing came into view.

Hermione looked around, and she didn’t hear anything. “Nox,” she whispered, and her light went out. She decided to walk into it, for the cold sensation was getting weaker. Silent as a cat, she crept to the edge of the clearing and stood still, listening. Then she heard it; faint breathing, rasped breathing to her left. Her wand held high over her head, she moved her head so she could see what was lying beneath the shrub. What she saw made her heart stop, and she gasped.

It was Snape, and he was lying on his back. He had cuts on his face and on his chest, which were bleeding profusely. Hermione rushed to his side, ignoring that she was kneeling in his blood, and stared horrified as Snape’s eyes rolled in their sockets and his extremities twitched in agony.

*

I'm sooooo sorry I left you guys with that cliffhanger last chapter! I didn't even think about it. Well, I can't really say that this chapter is without a cliffhanger either. The next couple chapters are extremely important, so dont' worry, I should have chapter 8 up relatively soon. Also, the next several chapter were extremely difficult to write, and I kept deleting and re-editing them, so I hope they live up to expectations! As always, here's my feedback thread. Please comment! Until next post...

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 8

“Sir! Sir, can you hear me?” Hermione said as clearly as she could, but her voice was cracking in fear. He made no motion that acknowledged her. Thinking fast, she remembered what Harry had told her last year, about how he had accidentally cursed Malfoy, and he had begun to spurt blood. Just like this…. Her heart was pounding as she tried to remember what Harry had said Snape had done to save Draco.

“Oh!” Hermione breathed out loud when she remembered the charm. It was ancient magic, the likes of which she had only read about, and even so only a very skilled wizard could perform it. Nonetheless, it was the best thing she could think of, so she whipped out her wand and began to trace it over the deep gashes on Snape’s face, murmuring the incantation. She looked at her handiwork and noted it as “acceptable”; it would do until she could get him to the castle.

After she did this, however, she realized that she must remove his shirt to get to the wounds on his chest. Not thinking of anything but what must be done, Hermione carefully pulled off the man’s cloak and removed the bloodstained shirt from his body. She subconsciously noticed that Snape’s torso was not at all what she had expected – his body was toned, even muscular – perfect besides the gruesome slash across his chest that was spurting blood. Shaking herself back to what she had to do, she traced his cut with her wand, which was difficult to do for Snape’s jerking, all the while concentrating on her spell. After the fourth time repeating this motion, the cuts had sealed themselves as best she could perform, but Snape was still breathing in short, painful gasps.

Not only that, but his eyes were darting in all directions, as if he could see something that Hermione could not, something that was frightening him. Hermione did not know what to do now, though, for he apparently did not know she was there, and he was groaning in a way which implied that the pain had not subsided.

Hermione’s only thought at the moment was to try to rouse Snape from whatever state he was in. “Sir…sir! What’s wrong?” Hermione spoke loudly and clearly. She began to gently shake his shoulder. “Sir…I’m right here, you’re all right!” Snape’s breathing was as irregular as ever, and the way his eyes were moving reminded Hermione sickly of Mad-Eye Moody. “Sir…Snape!” she said desperately, shaking him harder. “Everything’s fine, just let me help you!”

He continued to ignore her without comprehension of her being there. Obviously unaware of his actions, Snape took a swing at the air, barely missing Hermione. “It’s all right, just calm down - Severus!” Hermione yelled. The recognition of his name must have clunked something back into place, for Snape’s eyes stopped rolling and they focused dead ahead, then turned very slowly to Hermione’s. Instantly Hermione wished she had not spoken his first name, for even though it worked, it made her very embarrassed.

Without warning, Snape grabbed her wrist, making Hermione gasp with surprise. She stared into his deep eyes and saw that they seemed to be having difficulty focusing in on her. Half the time they seemed like they were in a different time, a different place, and he was fighting to stay in the present. “S-sir?” she asked, a little afraid. “Sir, are you all right?”

He shook his head, but did not take his eyes off of her. The muscles in his throat were working rapidly, for he was trying to speak. His breathing was still labored, and every word seemed to bring him pain. “What did you say?” his voice was frighteningly quiet.

Hermione did not understand. “I asked you if you were all right.” Her brow furrowed as she watched Snape struggle to put the words together.

“No, what did you call me,” he asked her again, loosening his grip on her wrist in pain.

Hermione’s cheeks shone crimson. Her voice became very small when she said, “Severus. I called you Severus. I’m sorry, that was – “ she stopped because Snape was shaking his head again, trying to reply.

“No, it…helped. You may…say that,” Snape was breathing more difficultly than ever and his words were disconnected and slurred, as though his brain was skipping a step. “…cursed…can’t…father….” He continued to speak unconnected and brief words, none of which made any sense to Hermione but the first part. It sounded like he said he wants me to call him Severus…but I don’t see what that has to do with this. His eyes were back to the far-off place they had been trying to escape.

Just then Snape grimaced in pain, and Hermione was brought back to the situation. “W-we should get to the castle and tell McGonagall. You don’t seem-“ Hermione stopped talking once more at Snape’s movements. It looked like it was taking a greater effort to form words, he was having difficulty getting his mouth around them.

He cleared his throat enough to say “No.”

“No? No to going to the castle or no to telling McGonagall?” Hermione replied anxiously.

Snape’s brow furrowed and he closed his eyes, saying, “McGonagall. Do not…tell her.”

Hermione thought it best not to argue the point now, but made a mental note to ask him later why he wished to avoid telling McGonagall. “All right then, but you are by no means well, and I don’t know much more I can do to help you. You obviously can’t go to St. Mungo’s, and Madam Pomfrey’s not here. I’ve done most everything I can….” She looked down at Snape, but eyes were still closed. Hermione took this as a sign that she needed to get him to the castle, the sooner the better.

“Can you hear me? Sir, can you stand or should I levitate you?” she asked, taking the matter into her hands.

“Minamssev,” was the mumble that came from Snape’s lips as a reply.

“What?” Hermione said, leaning closer to hear him. His eyes snapped open, but they were still unfocused.

“My name is…Severus,” he whispered, losing strength fast.

Hermione was greatly concerned for him now; he kept going in and out of his right mind, and for some reason he seemed desperate that she knew him as Severus. “I know, your name is Severus,” she coaxed as she got behind him and propped him up on her knee. “We need to leave now, can you walk?”

He did not answer, but instead immediately rolled onto his side and attempted to raise himself off the ground. Hermione knew that he would not be able to do it, so she kneeled on the ground beside him, put her arm around his waist, and helped to lift him to his feet (which was no easy job). Snape appeared to be supporting some of his own weight, but not enough to go on on his own.

“Lumos,” Hermione said, and her wand tip ignited in her left hand, while her right arm remained around Snape’s torso. “I’ll be helping you, Sir- I mean, Severus.” She quickly grabbed his cloak off the ground and started walking. I wonder why he insists on his first name, Hermione wondered as they began their first few steps. Snape was taller than her, so walking was rather clumsy, as his shoulders were slumped low in the effort to keep going. Hermione could feel his every ragged breath softly tingling on her ear. For some reason, her heart seemed to flutter each time his body moved against hers.

As they made their way through the forest, Hermione decided that this was not as awkward as she had thought – on the contrary her spirits lifted as they walked this way, and she didn’t know why. Each step echoed through the forest, and at every stride a small seedling of a thought in the back of Hermione’s mind grew oh so slightly. But Hermione was ignoring it; she didn’t want to think about it just yet.

Sooner than she expected, they reached the edge of the forest, and she realized that Snape was completely visible. “Can you stand for a moment?” she whispered to him. Snape’s weight lifted off of her shoulders and decided to lean against the nearest tree instead. His eyes were open, but they looked extremely tired. “I’m going to Disillusion you now, all right?” She walked up to him, took his cloak off her arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, very aware of how close they were. She backed away as quickly as she could and raised her wand to perform the charm.

“Thank you, Hermione…” Snape murmured softly, catching Hermione off guard.

For what felt like the millionth time today, she felt the color rise to her face as she met his gaze. “It’s no problem, I mean, you must be Disillusioned to get to the castle….”

“No,” Snape breathed in deeply, winced in pain, and continued to speak. “No…for everything.”

Hermione broke their stare and smiled. “You’re very welcome, Severus,” and with that she rapped him on the head with her wand, repeated the action on herself, and watched as they both seemed to melt into the background. “Let’s keep going.”

She put her arm around him and continued to guide him across the grounds. I don’t mind calling him Severus…it actually feels a lot better than “Sir”…and he had even called me Hermione…! Hermione’s thoughts were coming faster, and that seed was growing rapidly, finally bursting into the front of her attention. It came as a conscience would speak, and it spoke very slowly, “You – like – Snape.” Hermione stopped abruptly, mouth open in comprehension. Snape staggered slightly at the halt.

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered and continued to walk, this time head down deep in thought. It made complete sense: the blushing, how she liked it when they were on a first-name basis, and how (she glanced sideways at Snape before realizing she couldn’t see him properly) she thought his body was attractive, well-built and strong, like he could protect her from anything….

Hermione just then realized that she had been smiling through that whole thought process, and that seemed to confirm it. With a jolt, she saw that they were approaching the front doors. She checked her watch; it was noon. OK, it’s lunchtime, but the students are probably still in their dormitories. I will be able to get him into our room easily if no one’s in the corridors. It seemed easy enough. She extinguished her wand tip, which she just realized had been lit for the whole time they were walking, and pushed open the giant oak doors, shoving all previous thoughts out of her mind. Luckily no one was in the entrance hall.
Hermione led Snape down the stairs that led to the dungeons, turned left at the landing, then gasped, quickly hiding behind a pillar. The Slytherins were mingling around this corridor. By now Snape was extremely weak, and he was only barely walking with her. She looked at the man she was supporting and knew that she could not walk past with him – the Disillusionment Charm was only effective if you were looking at him at a distance, for up close his outline was quite visible, not to mention the fact that she would not be able to take him quickly. She took a second and calculated the moment.

She was standing in a T – shaped corridor. The Slytherin common room entrance was at the connection of the T, and she had to turn right, but she couldn’t walk past them. Then a sudden thought came to her; she used a nonverbal spell to create an explosion to the left side of the corridor. Hermione smirked at her own cunning, watched the Slytherins rush to see what the commotion was about, and then hurried with Snape along the right.

His breathing was coming no easier than before, and he had started to groan in pain. “Sh…,” Hermione whispered, getting the distinct impression of talking to a child, “you must be quiet; we’re almost there.”

Snape did as best he could the rest of the way. Finally Hermione reached the candle which she must charm to open their door. As she raised her wand to tap it thrice, Snape’s knees gave way and he fell to the floor. Oh great, Hermione thought desperately. She opened the door, whispered “Wingardium Leviosa,” and levitated Snape onto the couch in their dormitory, slamming the door behind her.

Hermione felt her heart pounding with the adrenaline of what had just happened. She walked over to Snape and performed the couter-charm to the Disillusionment so that both she and the man before her were visible again. Hermione couldn’t help but stare at Snape; he seemed to have changed so much in the last hour. He was no longer terrifying and mean, nor was he repulsive or old. Severus Snape was mysterious, intelligent, and rather attractive to Hermione’s new eye.

Tearing herself from the couch, she rushed over to the desk and began to brew a Healing Potion. If anything is to help him, this should. All her movements were in a blur, she was lost in thought once more. Hermione went into the cupboard and pulled out the ingredients she would need, noting that she would have to go to Diagon Alley soon to get more ingredients, but that was not important now. She took them and prepared the potion.

Adjusting the temperature, Hermione set it to simmer for fifteen minutes, and she walked over to the seat across from Snape. When the chair creaked from the sudden weight, Snape’s head rolled over to face her, but his eyes remained closed. Hermione saw the odd position of Snape’s neck, so she quietly conjured a pillow carried it over to him, and stood behind the armrest his head was awkwardly laying on. She gently lifted his head and placed the pillow behind it, to which he let out an unconscious groan of satisfaction.

As Hermione moved to go back to her seat, she tripped against the leg of the couch and fell to the floor with a loud thump. Snape shifted above her, and she instinctively covered her mouth for fear of an exclamation of pain – she didn’t want to rouse him from whatever rest he had found. But something held her back from returning to her chair. She was very close to him now. She could see each rise and fall of his chest from his ragged breathing and feel the warmth emanating from his sweating chest.

Without thinking, Hermione reached her hand out and touched the cut on Snape’s face. Her heart began beating very fast and loud; she was sure he would hear it. To her surprise, Snape did not move, nor did she. Hermione stroked the injured side of his face, conscious of every passionate thought it ensued upon her.

Smelling something slightly irregular, Hermione jumped up in surprise to take her Healing Potion off its simmer. She went to the desk, poured a gobletful for Snape and took it over to him. Examining his pose, she knew he would not be able to swallow it. Therefore Hermione lifted his upper body and sat behind it, leaving Snape in a comfortable reclined position – just enough to get it down. She reached out, grabbed the goblet, and proceeded to pour it into his mouth.

The moment the liquid first ran down his throat, Snape began to cough violently, spitting and sputtering so that no more could enter his body. Does it hurt him to swallow? Or can’t he breathe enough to get it down? His breathing was still quite sporadic. Hermione tried again, this time gently compelling him to drink it.

“This will help you, Severus, just drink it down and then you’ll be fine,” she whispered. Amazingly, Snape swallowed several mouthfuls with only little difficulty, but once the goblet was drained, he began to cough worse than ever. Hermione backed away slightly in surprise, unsure of what to do. The only thing she could think of was what she had seen on muggle television as a child.

Hermione pushed forward so that Snape was in a full sitting position and began to slap on his back as if he were choking. No, this is stupid, this won’t help, Hermione thought quickly. But just as quickly as it had started, the coughing stopped. Snape let his full weight fall back upon Hermione, and, caught by surprise, she couldn’t resist it. Hermione was pushed completely back, with Snape’s upper body lying on her lap.

I’m glad that’s over, but this position is no better. Then Hermione realized that Snape’s breathing was normal once more; it was soft and slow, but normal. Hermione sighed deeply, confident that she had helped him. This actually isn’t that uncomfortable, she thought, I mean, he looks so peaceful like that.

Once again, Hermione reached her hand out to touch him, but the moment she touched his skin, his eyes snapped open and bore into hers. It was a little unnerving, so she apologized quickly for her forwardness. “I-I’m sorry, Severus, I wasn’t thinking….” But her voice trailed off. The moment she had said his name, his expression became different; his brow was furrowed, but Hermione couldn’t tell if it was confusion or anger, and those eyes were penetrating, cold.

Hermione knew that she had done or said the wrong thing, but she didn’t know why. Didn’t he want me to call him that? She stared apprehensively at Snape, and slowly removed herself from the couch, so that she was sitting on the floor. Hermione flushed the longer she held his gaze, the longer she waited for him to say something, but that moment seemed to stretch on and on.

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Yay, I've been waiting to post this chapter! OK, let me just say that I was already having trouble with chapter 9, but being half-way through the last book hasn't made it any easier. If anything, I'm more confused, haha; just the inner gears of my mind going a little haywire. Don't worry, though, I've almost got it. I'm sorry it took so long to post this one (I meant to put it up on Friday, but I didn't know the forums would be closed), and I hope to have chapter 9 up by friday, saturday at the latest.

Here's my feedback thread. I'd love it if I got a few more people to comment! Anyways, until next post...

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 9

“What did you call me?” Severus asked in a quiet voice after what seemed like an eternity. Though it was not angry, it was not comforting either.

Hermione got the distinct feeling of déjà vu before she answered, “Severus. I called you Severus.” She flushed more the longer he held her gaze. “You wanted me to, remember?”

At this statement, his features definitely became troubled. She could see his face contorted in the expression of someone trying desperately to remember something. He doesn’t remember anything he said back there. Hermione shifted, extremely uncomfortable with the way this conversation was headed.

She was just about to ask what had happened to him when Severus asked, “What else did I say.” It was barely a question, for he was trying to remain expressionless.

Hermione wasn’t sure of the answer to this question, for he had said many incoherent things, but she did her best to reiterate his words. “Er…you kept insisting that your name was Severus, and you wanted me to call you that. And you said something about a curse, and…oh, you mentioned ‘father’.”

Severus’s face slid into comprehension, but just as soon as he seemed to understand something, he turned his face from hers. Hermione did not understand. She stood up to see what was wrong, and realized with a glance at his face that he actually had a tinge of a blush on his face – well, as much of a blush that Severus Snape could have. She was sure that he was embarrassed about something, and therefore she was embarrassed to see him like that. Completely at a loss for words, Hermione sat back down, trying to think of something comforting to say – anything to say.

“Did I mention anyone else?” came the tense voice once more. Hermione looked over at him. “Is that all you heard?” His voice was audibly controlled, and Hermione was more baffled than ever.

“Yes, that’s all. Besides you thanking me…,” she brought her eyes down. She could have sworn that she heard him quietly exhale a breath, as if expecting her to say something different. He turned his head so that he faced the ceiling, but he still did not look at her.

“Sev- I mean, Sir,” Hermione stumbled over her first word. She didn’t want him to react like that again from the mention of his first name, “what happened to you? Who did this to you? Please tell me.”

He turned to stare at her. He was expressionless again, but his voice was slow and mild. “I cannot. The more you know, the more danger you may be in.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione replied. He cares for your safety…, the little voice in her head murmured softly, but Hermione was ignoring it. She didn’t really care much about her danger; she wanted to know what happened. She could tell that Snape was choosing his words carefully. “You are not as incompetent as most your age, and therefore you most likely know where I went this morning?” Hermione nodded. “Then you must understand my position. The Dark Lord is the most accomplished Legilimens in the world, and if he acquires you, the Order will all be in jeopardy, but especially you and I.”

She was trying to fit everything together. “So you cannot tell me anything that I wouldn’t normally know in case Voldemort,” Severus made a small “ssss” noise, but she spoke over it, “tries to get information from me because then he’ll know you spoke of your meetings to me, an Order member. But if I’m a fair Occlumens without any training, imagine how much I would be able to resist him if I had a proper teacher?” At this last, she nodded at Severus.

He was calculating her very carefully, deciding what to say and what not to, but Hermione spoke first the question she had been dying to know, “Did Voldemort do this to you after you didn’t give him the Draught of Discovery, or after he possessed Dennis Creevy?” She had decided to be straightforward rather than dodge that she knew the truth. Besides, she was just betting on the fact that Snape didn’t hand over the potion, but if she guessed right, it would be a much more impressive question.

Snape’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Hermione contained a smirk at her correct supposition. “I am just observant and, as you said, less ‘incompetent’ than some of my friends.” Hermione was trying to goad him into telling her what really happened. “So seeing as how I already know the details…?”

Severus was obviously impressed by her knowledge of the situation, but skirted her questioning for the present. “What happened to Creevy once he got to the castle?” he asked. He confirmed that he knew what had been done to Dennis, Hermione thought as she told what she knew. When she had completed, Snape closed his eyes.

“Why did Voldemort possess him?” asked Hermione tentatively.

Severus paused. “A warning,” he replied, his eyes still closed.

“A warning for what?”

He chose not to respond.

“Fine, then, what happened at the meeting? You didn’t answer my first question – why exactly did Voldemort do this to you?”

Again, silence met her words. Hermione exhaled in a very exasperated way. I understand his position, but he should know I would keep any secret he trusted me with. A muscle in Snape’s cheek twitched ever so slightly, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he had seen that thought. All the better, she reasoned, and waited for him to say something; she waited in vain for several moments, all the while trying to see into his mind, but he was determined upon keeping her out of it (which wasn’t saying much, seeing as how Hermione couldn’t perform Legilimency). Nonetheless Hermione suddenly jumped up and began to pace, the gears in her mind working, trying to see a way around Snape’s stubbornness.

“Look, you can trust me; I really will keep any secret you tell me. You can’t just sit there and stare at me!” she added heatedly, staring defiant daggers down at Snape who, oddly, was not making any motion or face that would display an irritation for her words. “I’m probably the only one besides McGonagall who believes you after all, and I am the only one with an absolute reason.”

At these words, Snape’s face slid into the dark look that Hermione knew so well. “You do not comprehend the weight those words hold,” he almost yelled. Severus made an attempt to prop himself up, winced in pain, and slid back down, very angrily, into his original position, slightly paler than before. “You cannot speak them, think them, believe them at all. The reason you speak of was just a ridiculous dream, and – “

“It was not just a dream and we both know that,” Hermione snapped.

This time Snape’s eyes were the ones shooting daggers. “You will not interrupt me. I have told you twice now; we will not discuss my part in this war.”

Hermione was thinking some very bold things in her mind, constantly keeping Snape from invading those thoughts, but she finally let them echo into his head. Why? Just because you don’t want to get hurt more than you already are? I’m not one of those people against you. I trust you now like Dumbledore trusted you – “I actually care….” Hermione finished aloud, but she stopped talking there, for she wasn’t sure if she was about to be shouted at or not.

As she stared down at Snape, it appeared that he was having an inward battle. Hermione was sure that she knew why – He’s mad that I accused of him of being hurt, but he likes the fact that I care…. She was sure no one had taken such liberties when talking to this man before, so Hermione decided to just finish it off in a way that would hopefully not make him as irate.

She bent down once more to sit beside the couch. They did not lose eye contact with each other until she spoke, and Snape averted his gaze. “I really do care a-about you,” she tripped over the last part of the sentence, rather embarrassed to admit it, “and that’s why I want to know what happened. Not because I’m going to run and tell McGonagall, but so I can help you. I know Voldemort did it and it was some form of Sectumsempra, am I wrong?”

Snape bore his eyes into hers, and she felt the sensation of Legilimency being used on her, and she did not resist for the second time. The images of Snape with the Draught of Discovery, herself reading about it in Dark Drafts for the Deceitful at Heart, and Snape lying injured in the forest all passed before her eyes very quickly. When Hermione’s eyes could see nothing but the room around her again, Snape carefully licked his lips and began to speak.

“You are not mistaken. I only tell you this because you already know, and if I doubted that you had control over your Occlumency, you would certainly not be hearing this,” he paused, “but still I cannot reveal much. The attack on Dennis was a warning…to me. You are correct, I did not turn over the Draught of Discovery, and therefore I was greatly punished. Whatever I said to you in the forest,” he chose to stare at the ceiling at this point, “was mostly while I was still under the curse. I relived…could not control what….” Severus stopped talking, but Hermione understood enough.

While searching for a reply, she saw him look at his own bare chest for the first time. He conjured a blanket silently and covered himself with it. As Hermione did this, she knew that she must be flushing, for it seemed so obvious to cover him once they were inside. “You did this?” he asked quietly, pointing where his skin had been formed together, but would probably scar. Hermione nodded.

”I know it wasn’t good. I did the best I could….”

“And may I ask where you learned to perform this ancient magic?”

Hermione did a double take; she had been expecting him to speak ill of her work, for in truth it really wasn’t very good. “Er, I read about it, but that doesn’t matter, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey could do it ten times better in a heartbeat.”

Snape shook his head. “You found the book about it hidden in a certain bookcase in the right wing of the library?” he asked with a very curious expression on his face. Hermione’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“How did you know…?” Then it dawned upon Hermione that as a student, Snape must have come upon the same book, and that was how he knew the charm as well. “But still, I’m sure many people can do it, and mine was poorly done. I’m sorry for the scarring you will probably have.” She admitted.

“Was this your first attempt?”

Hermione nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood.

“I do not know if you are aware of this, Hermione,” he was speaking very softly now, and Hermione distinctly felt her pulse quicken at the sound of her first name, “but very few people know how to perform that spell; only a select few Healers at St. Mungo’s can. There are other ways to heal curse cuts such as these, but none is more difficult or unfamiliar than that counter-curse. For your first attempt it was…impressive.”

Hermione could not help but smile at this, for this was as close to a compliment as she could get from Snape.

“Thank you, sir,” she mumbled.

Snape looked at the ceiling when he added, “And as for the scars, they will serve as a reminder of how I am…in great debt to you.” He paused, obviously not really wanting to continue. “Had you not come when I called, or known a countercurse….” Hermione wasn’t expecting this at all. She hadn’t thought of it as saving his life…I just tidied him up a bit, that’s all. “Thank you,” he finished in barely a whisper, clearly not used to saying such things.

“Y-you’re welcome,” she stuttered involuntarily.

“But I am very serious that you must forget that I said that,” he countered immediately. “It is a fact that I owe you my life – we are now magically bound because of what you have done - but no one can know. It must be secret, do you understand?”

Hermione nodded. She had a feeling that this was about her safety again. She had nothing else to say, so she stood up, but Snape began speaking again.

“I believe that this proves that you are responsible enough to begin learning Legilimency, but we shall start with proper Occlumency, for now it is imperative that you do not falter in it.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, smiling at him. She turned around and went over to the rest of the healing potion. She began to use her wand to siphon it into a container when Snape’s voice spoke very softly from across the room, his eyes closed once more.

“And….” Hermione turned to him and waited with bated breath, silently wishing that he would say what she hoped he would.

“I see no reason not to be on a first name basis...now that….” He trailed off into what appeared to be sleep and did not finish his sentence, but that was good enough for Hermione. It was too perfect; he must have seen my thoughts and concurred, unless he feels the same way…? Hermione chose to become very interested on a spot on the floor to avoid Snape seeing her beaming and blushing magnificently.

*

I'm so glad this is finally up! I've been reading Deathly Hallows all week and I've finally finished it, . I'm working on the next chapter now, and it should be up soon. Please leave me a comment at my feedback thread. I can't wait to read it!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Before you read this chapter, I just wanted everyone to know that from this chapter on, I'll be introducing some phrases and concepts from Deathly Hallows, but ultimately I think the end will be very different than that of the book. I don't know if it was necessary to say something or not, but I figure better safe than sorry. Be warned!

*

Chapter 10

The hours passed quickly, but Hermione took no notice. All she could think about was Severus and how things were slowly evolving between them. Over the next two days, Hermione tended to him, and his condition slowly began to recover, all the while making the potions that she could for Harry and Ron. A health potion every two hours and meals brought to him were no burden for her; she actually liked it. Hermione saw how much they had in common through their many conversations, but she didn’t know whether he felt the same connection that she did. Either way, she was in no rush to extend her feelings toward him just yet.

“Severus,” she whispered gently, trying to rouse him from sleep. “It’s time for your potion.”

His eyes flicked open in a startled sort of look, but relaxed when he had fully awoken. The clock told that it was three in the morning.

“I don’t think that I need to continue taking this tonic. The pain is gone, I am only weak. Rest will serve that,” he reasoned as Hermione brought over the steaming goblet.

She did not respond, but waited with an amused sort of look as Severus attempted to sit up. “Yes, you certainly need to regain your strength,” she commented while sitting behind him and propping him up, the usual procedure.

Hermione tipped the goblet into his mouth, to which he coughed just as he had the first time. He had not yet managed to drink it passively. If you don’t need this, then why do you cough from the pain of taking it, Hermione thought ironically.

“I heard that,” Severus replied. Lately Hermione had been letting him enter her mind on occasion, for it was rather comical to see his reactions.

“I know,” she countered with a grin. Severus smirked as he finished his potion, deliberately not coughing, but the smirk faded when he winced from the soreness.

“I will continue to give this to you until you don’t need to pretend it doesn’t hurt,” Hermione stated firmly. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll be back in two hours.” With that, she left him and went into her room to try to sleep a little herself. As she walked across the room to her bed, she stepped on the clothes she had taken off the day she rescued Severus and had hastily thrown on the floor. She jumped back in pain, for she had stepped on the sharp corner of something.

Looking down closer, she saw the crisp corner of an envelope peeking out of her pocket. With a jolt, she dropped to the floor to examine it. I completely forgot, she thought as she looked at the letters addressed to herself and Ginny that she had taken from McGonagall’s office. Ignoring how tired she was, Hermione pulled the letter for her out of its open envelope and began to read Harry’s handwriting:

Dear Hermione,

One down. Everything is going fine, wish you were here. We’re progressing. Don’t worry about us, hope you’re well.

Friends,
Harry and Ron

P.S. We sent a letter to McGonagall about the help we need. If she told you already, we need it the sooner the better.

Hermione folded the letter back up; she was rather disappointed at how brief it was. As she went to put it back in the envelope, she noticed an area on the back of the letter that was off-color. It looks like a poor concealing charm wearing off. Wondering what might be there, Hermione raised her wand above the letter and said, “Specialis Revealo.”

Slowly Ron’s untidy scrawl appeared on the back of the letter. Fluttering with excitement, Hermione read this.

Hermione,

I couldn’t just leave you with that short message, so I hope you get to read this. Harry didn’t want us to put too much in a letter in case it’s intercepted, but I had to tell you this. I even wrote this in the middle of the night, but when I went to mail it, I found Harry doing the same thing with Ginny’s letter. ‘Course, I wish I could have seen what he wrote her.

Anyways, things are getting pretty dangerous on our end. There’ve been a lot of close calls, and honestly I’m getting pretty sick of it. Most of the time we are just stabbing in the dark for our plans and stuff, and we don’t know where anything is; whatever we get is just on a guess. I really thought Harry would know so much more about this than he let on, but turns out that he doesn’t know anything more than I do.

Because we’re in constant danger, I don’t know when I’ll be home, or if I will ever get back. I can’t believe I just wrote that, but it’s true. I haven’t thought about it much – all I’ve been thinking of is you. I miss you so much. Since I don’t know if I’ll come home in one piece or not, I just wanted to let you know that, I mean, in case I never get a chance to say it…. er, I just have to know that you know that I love you, and I always have.

Love,
Ron

P.S. Don’t forget me while I’m gone.

Hermione stopped reading and noticed that tears were brimming over her eyelids and spilling down her face. She rubbed them away and put the letter on top of her dresser, but the tears did not stop falling. She felt horrible, awful, because in all honesty she had forgot him. I even had feelings for him, but what now? Now he’s losing my affections, only to have Snape win them? Ron could never understand…but I don’t even really understand what I’m feeling…. Without knowing she was doing it, Hermione changed into pajamas and got into bed, where she fitfully tried to go to sleep; when she finally succeeded, it was time to give Severus his next potion.

Maybe he doesn’t need much more of it after all, Hermione thought irritably as she got up once again. She walked into the living room much more tired than she had been exiting it two hours prior, and she was completely aware of it. She hadn’t gotten sleep for the past two nights, and none in the day, but reading Ron’s letter seemed to make everything much more difficult – especially thinking about her feelings for Snape.

She went over to Severus and woke him up, not as gentle as she had meant to. When he became awake, out of the corner of her eye Hermione saw him watching her. After ladling the potion into the goblet, she walked to his side, blinking furiously to keep her eyes open.

“Here…,” Hermione handed it to him. He did not take it, but looked harder into her eyes.

”What’s wrong?” Severus asked, noticing her expression.

Hermione rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand before answering, “I’m just really tired. Come on, you need to take this.” She propped him up and poured the potion into his mouth, barely noticing his coughing in her battle to remain awake.

“How much have you slept?”

Hermione did not really hear him; she simply removed herself from the couch and turned around.

“Hermione, how much sleep have you gotten?” Severus asked a little louder.

The sound of her name seemed to snap her back into full consciousness. “What? Oh, um…I don’t know, a few hours maybe,” she replied.

Snape’s eyebrows rose. “Well, you need much more than that. I can’t believe you haven’t been sleeping these last few days! You need to be fully alert to make potions; what if you made a mistake when you were making something for Potter?” His voice was irritated, but he instantly knew that that had upset her. Hermione’s eyes were red, and she started looking everywhere but at him.

“I haven’t felt tired until now,” she shot back, “I just…I….” Hermione did not finish. She could feel his eyes on her face, calculating it.

“You’ve been crying,” Severus spoke quietly, “what’s happened?”

“I have not been crying!” Hermione shrieked, losing some control. She stared into his eyes, but purposely kept him from looking into her thoughts.

He broke their eye contact and resumed glancing over her face. “Hermione, you have tearstains down your cheeks.” Now his voice was gentle, coaxing her to tell him. Hermione hastily wiped them off, and pretended not hear him.

Hermione refused to let Snape know what was really bothering her, but she was losing a grasp on her Occlumency. To make sure he could not read her mind, she turned around so that her back was facing him. This was a sign that she did not want to continue this conversation.

“You get to sleep; I can handle everything without you until morning,” she heard from behind her.

Hermione did not need to be told twice to remove herself from his presence. She rushed into her room and closed the door behind her. The moment that she was alone, she continued to cry, but this time she didn’t really know why. She was crying just to cry. Without bothering to put a silencing charm around her room, she got into bed, fully aware of the fact that Snape could probably hear her. Hermione fell asleep surprisingly fast, making a vow to keep Ron’s letter at the back of her mind until she could sort out exactly how she was feeling about the man on the other side of the wall, the man who was taking notice of each sob that escaped her.

**

Hermione’s eyes opened at 11:15 the next morning. She groggily rolled over, then jumped out of bed when she realized that she had missed 3 potions for Snape, but stopped as she remembered the occurrences of last night. A glance at the dresser told her that the letter had indeed been real, but she wasn’t going to think about it. She hurriedly pulled on her clothes and exited her room.

Snape was lying on the couch, reading the Daily Prophet. Hermione exhaled with relief that he was fine, but immediately went over to administer the Health Potion to him once more, but he put his hand up.

“I’ve already taken it,” he told her calmly.

“But…how?” Hermione wondered aloud. Snape pointed to his wand beside him and rolled his eyes, like it was extremely obvious.

“It was not getting it that was the problem; drinking it proved more difficult,” he absentmindedly massaged his chest as he spoke.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you, I –,“ she started to speak, but Snape cut across her.

“I told you last night, you needed the rest. Besides, I am getting stronger. I’ll be well very soon…how are you?” He asked this last question in a way that told her that she didn’t have to answer if she didn’t want to.

Hermione chose not to answer. Shelooked into the cauldron, and saw that there was only enough for one more gobletful. “There’s not enough left.”

“I won’t need more than a day’s worth. A half-batch should be plenty,” Severus reasoned.

“No,” Hermione replied, “we are out of several ingredients. I’ll need to go to Diagon Alley to replenish our supplies. I should go today.”

“You cannot go there,” said Severus immediately, “surely you knew that?”

“And why can’t I go there?” Hermione asked with a definite edge in her voice, while her hands went to her hips.

“You amaze me sometimes at your lack of common sense,” he said, shaking his head, “the Dark Lord is taking over our world. The Death Eaters are everywhere, and no Order Member is safe on the streets alone. Certainly you’ve wondered why you’ve been kept in the castle?”

Her hesitation lasted for a second. “Because McGonagall wanted me to help you with these potions for Harry and Ron.”

“No, our position was not announced until last week, and you have been kept here since the beginning of the year. You haven’t been reading the Daily Prophet; Death Eaters have infiltrated the Ministry, and there is a search for Muggle-borns. They think that if you can do magic, it’s because you stole your wand, and not because you are magically gifted. And I think I should tell you that Hermione Granger is one of the top priority searches.” As he finished talking, he opened the daily prophet to show her picture with an article about her underneath it. Hermione gasped and took it from him, trying to read it but nothing sank in.

“You’ve been kept here for your own protection, much like myself, but from different sides. The Death Eaters know you were friends with Potter, and he is Undesirable Number 1, therefore you are as good as Undesirable Number 2. They think you have information on what Potter’s up to, not to mention they would all like to finish you off or…ah…use you because you’re Muggle-born.” Hermione shivered at his direction of the word “use.”

“You don’t mean…they wouldn’t…are you joking?” she asked, with a slightly higher voice than usual.

Snape shook his head and looked at the opposite wall, clearly thinking back to another place. “The true Death Eaters are horrible men…they will please themselves in whatever way possible. I have heard them talking at meetings. You are, shall I say, an attractive Muggle-born in their eye and yes, they would not hesitate to use you if they met you – followed by death, I’m sure.”

Hermione’s mouth was open in horror. That’s sick…just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. What kind of people would do such a thing…well, we are talking about Voldemort’s followers here.

“Well put,” Severus commented to her thoughts, folding up his paper.

“Wait, you haven’t contributed to those conversations, have you?” Hermione asked, seriously considering whether she really wanted to hear the answer or not.

Snape opened up his mouth, then closed it. For the time being, he skirted her question. “We shall think of something to do about the ingredients, but for now I really am fine. Actually, I believe it is just a matter of strengthening the muscles that have not been in use for days.”

He proceeded to sit up, a little difficultly, and then stood up. Severus wavered on the spot, and Hermione rushed to his side to support him. She wrapped her arm around his waist as she did when she first helped him, and let him put a little weight on her. “Thank you,” he murmured.

He attempted to walk, with Hermione aiding him. She walked with him three times around the room, but by the fourth time, Severus could walk by himself. Afterwards, however, he sat back down on the couch, breathing deeply.

“I can live with becoming more easily winded in exchange for moving independently,” Snape commented as his shortness of breath receded. “It’s time for lunch now,” he flicked his wand and two trays of food appeared on the table, “and afterwards I believe we should start the lessons.”

Hermione ate as fast as she could, eager to learn Legilimency for the first time, but she did not too easily forget his silence when she asked him if he took part in those conversations.

*

All right, I hoped you all liked this chapter, for it was immensely difficult to write, personally speaking. You know the drill, here's my feedback thread, please reply to this fic! The next chapter is written, I'm just waiting for you to get curious enough to post it (evil grin). No, I'm just joking. It'll be up in a few days. Enjoy reading!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Before I start this one, I have to say that I'm sort of using an instance from DH in a memory, but not directly. You'll see what I mean when you read it, but I wouldn't read it if you don't want to know anything about the last book. The credit goes to J.K. Rowling, as usual, and her brilliant mind. Happy readings!

*

Chapter 11

Hermione finished her meal and sat up straight, waiting for Snape to eat his. Whether he was done or simply aware of her eagerness, Severus cleared his plate moments after she did. He waved his wand and all the furniture, including the ones they were sitting on, moved to one side of the room. Hermione smiled as they landed quite gracefully.

Severus held out his arm, motioning for her to take a position in the clear space that he just created. She did as he indicated, and patiently waited while he stood up and made his way to where she was standing.

“Now, we shall begin with Occlumency.”

“Occlumency?” Hermione repeated “I thought you said you’d be teaching me Legilimency.”

Severus rose one eyebrow in his effort not to make a snide comment. “Yes, I said that, but you’ve forgotten that I’ve also told you that we shall start with Occlumency. It is true that you are accomplished for being self-taught, but every time you’ve practiced it against me, I’ve not been using my full concentration. I am very gifted at Legilimency, but the Dark Lord is better; you must learn to keep me out of your mind properly if you ever wish to attempt Occlumency on the Dark Lord, but we shall hope that that shall never have to occur.”

Hermione blinked. She already knew all of this, but she decided not to say anything, partially because she was a little irritated that she wasn’t learning Legilimency right now, which she had so been looking forward to.

“We shall only do this today if you are good at it,” Severus continued, “and then we shall indeed progress to Legilimency, but first we must do this. You know the principles of Occlumency well, do you not?”

Hermione nodded.

“Then you know that you must cleanse yourself of all emotion, and keep your mind empty. Let’s begin.”

Hermione’s eyes widened very slightly at his last sentence and prepared herself as quickly as she could. Ok, nothingness, no emotion…I can’t let him see the letter from Ron, so I have to keep that far from my mind. Empty it…empty…can’t let him see that –

“Legilimens!”

She wasn’t ready; she had been thinking so much about keeping him from seeing the letter that she left another part of her mind completely open and defenseless. It hit Hermione so hard that she might have staggered backwards, but she couldn’t see anything around her; all she could see were her many thoughts and dreams floating across her line of vision – her thoughts and dreams about her feelings for Snape – and now they were entering his mind. She watched helplessly, trying to gain control, as they flashed before her eyes; she was mortified that he was seeing them. Fight it…fight it… “NO!”

The spell was lifted. When Hermione blinked several times, she saw her arms outstretched before her and her fingers bent, as if she had been trying to grasp her memories before they reached the man on the other side of the room. She had fallen to the floor, and her knee was throbbing from the sharp contact it made off the ground. Terrified of what she’d see, she rose her eyes to Severus.

He was wearing a very curious expression indeed. His head was tilted very slightly to the side in interest, his brow was furrowed, and his lips were parted, like he waned to say something. But none of this was what embarrassed Hermione; it was his eyes. They were sparklingly black, but not in a way that was identifiable. She didn’t know if it was curiosity, or anger, or even embarrassment. The longer she held his gaze, the more furiously red her cheeks became until she had to break it and stare at the floor.

“I…,” Hermione wanted to say something, anything; something that would let him know that it wasn’t true, but it was. Her mouth simply opened and closed like a fish out of water. I can’t believe he just saw that…I can’t believe he knows…, these phrases kept replaying over and over inside her head; the pressure was too immense.

Hermione couldn't be in the presence of Severus while he was simply standing over her like that. She turned to get up, but then she heard quick footsteps and felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart beating like mad, she turned around to see Severus, his face still unreadable yet gentle.

“It’s all right. It’s my fault,” his voice was low, “I shouldn’t have gone so hard your first time. Please, let’s try again.” Hermione stared up into his face and knew that he was truly sorry. It seemed like he understood her embarrassment and didn’t want to cause her any more. She didn't know how she knew this, it was something like obvious even though he did not speak. Nonetheless, Hermione was a little hesitant in doing it again.

Not waiting for an answer, he took her hand and pulled her back up into her position. Severus let go of her hand (but the heat from it, Hermione noticed, did not fade) and took his place at the end of the room. “Now, I know you can do this; you just weren’t concentrating. Focus…and…Legilimens!”

This time Hermione was ready. Her mind was empty of all thoughts, and it felt like a shield that she had constructed in her head which Severus could not penetrate. He lifted the spell and she smiled.

“Good,” he nodded. “Once more…Legilimens!”

Hermione saw him move his wand in a more complicated wave, and knew that this was going to be more difficult. She cleared herself of emotion and waited for the infiltration to begin. This time, it felt more forceful, but Hermione knew it was coming, so she was successful in keeping it out.

When she felt the pressure release, she knew that Snape had admitted defeat. She looked at his face and a sort of bemused expression lay upon it before he spoke. “You are a very able in this field of magic. Now, I think we could start Legilimency, if you wish.”

Hermione nodded vigorously, but did not speak. Her voice did not seem to be working properly, as her heart was still in her throat from their humiliating first session.

“As you know, Legilimency is a precise art that can sometimes take years to perfect. It is the process of using your mind to invade another’s, and manipulating it to let you see what you are searching for. You can use it to extract feelings,” he paused here and cleared his throat, to which Hermione’s embarrassment refolded, “thoughts, or memories.”

“It can be easy, in the case that the other mind is completely open to you, or it may be very difficult if said person can perform Occlumency satisfactorily. When two people are skilled in Legilimency, it becomes possible to converse by thought, rather than simply picking out the information you want out of the other person’s head. You need to very strongly want to learn something from my mind; you must want to become one with me, and only by doing that will you be able to accomplish this.

“Concentrate your being on your mind becoming one with mine, and say very clearly, ‘Legilimens’ with your wand pointed at me. Do not lose eye contact.”

Like wanting to become one with him is going to be difficult…she thought with a small smirk at her bold thought. She simply concentrated on her longing to be with him, her strong feelings toward him, raised her wand and said, “Legilimens!”

It was an amazing feeling. She felt like she had the power to see anything in his past, for memories were zooming past her, quite clear. She could see bits of a childhood Snape talking to a red-haired girl, and a young Snape cowering from a drunken man who had the same nose and was aiming a punch, but then her eyes fell upon a teenage Snape walking with a young woman with Harry’s green eyes.

Harry’s mother? Severus…and Lily?

Without having to ask it to, this memory expanded, and it became motion. Lily was talking about hating James, and Severus had a pleased, almost hungry look in his eye while he watched her.

Suddenly the memory flew away from her and she found herself standing over Severus, who was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. At first glance he seemed angry, but Hermione could tell that he was trying to control it.

“That was…very impressive for your first attempt. I did not resist much, but nonetheless you delved…farther than I could control.” Severus was resentful in this last statement.

“Was…was that your father in the second memory?” Hermione asked quietly.

Severus’s head whipped upwards at her words. With heavy bitterness in his voice, he replied, “Yes.”

“W-what happened?” Hermione decided to try her luck.

“That-“ every word he said was slow and had a heavy weight upon it, “is – of – no – concern – to – you.”

Hermione knew that he said that to end the discussion, but she had to know. “Were you friend’s with Harry’s mother?”

His lip curled frighteningly. “Lily Evans, never ‘Harry Potter’s mother’.” His tone was menacing when he said Potter, but Hermione was burning with curiosity.

“Why have you never told – “

“Enough,” Severus cut her off very forcefully. She knew that she had gone too far. “You did well. Try again.” He gave this last order in a way which showed that he was daring her to search for those memories, but upsetting him further was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.

Hermione knew before she did it that he was going to use Occlumency this time. “Legilimens!” she said clearly and attempted to enter his mind, but held back slightly, afraid of seeing what he didn’t want her to. It took her more effort, more concentration, but she still could see images. This time they were quite blurry, and she could not see anything specific. She lifted her spell herself this time.

Severus’s eyebrows were raised.

“You held back.”

“And?” Hermione replied. How did he know I held back…can he sense that?

“Yes, I can, so don’t,” he stated after flitting into her head. Hermione knew that he was becoming more irritated the longer they worked at this, “otherwise we will not know how strong you are in this magic.” He abruptly flicked his wand at the wall and a door appeared within it, opening up to his penseive. He put his wand to his temple, drew out several strands of the liquid-gas and deposited them into the basin. Once he had done this, he stood up to his full height in front of her and commanded, “Again.”

Hermione wanted to prove herself more than anything, but she didn’t want to anger Severus, for she knew him to have a temper – her thirst to prove herself to him outweighed her hesitance. “Legilimens!”

She said it so strongly that she could literally feel the pressure of her power pressing heavily against the back of her eyes – she couldn’t imagine what this must feel on Severus’s end. She was concentrating so fully on becoming one with his mind that every memory of his was crystal clear and moving so rapidly that it almost made her sick to watch, but everything was sinking in – she could remember every bit of his life that flashed before, quickly as they had come.

“Ah!!” Hermione broke the connection with a sharp gasp of pain, but it sounded like it echoed across the room. It felt as though someone had stuck a knife into temple and out the other side of her head. She found herself on the ground once more, holding the side of her head and breathing deeply.

Hermione looked to where Snape had been standing and saw him in her identical position but on the other side of the room. It seemed like he felt the same pain that she did, and the echo had been his outburst as well. He shook his head as if to clear it, got up shakily and knelt beside Hermione.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking from one pupil of hers to the other to make sure they were equal.

Hermione nodded, but the pain had now simply subsided to a prolonged ache. “What happened?”

Severus looked at her for several moments before answering. “I’ve heard of it happening…but never thought it truly possible. It appears as though the concentration to become one mind was reciprocated on both ends, and it opened the memories like…nothing I’ve experienced before.”

He wished to become one mind also, the voice in Hermione’s head said excitedly, but this was too important not to pay full attention.

“Wait, you saw my memories, too?” she asked.

“Yes, but I’m sure you saw much more than I. Am I mistaken?”

She shook her head. “I saw everything, every memory that you had, and I took them all in.”

He did a small double take. “You heard the contents of each memory? Did you will them to come to you?”

Hermione thought about it, but she wasn’t sure if her answer was adequate to what happened or not. “I don’t know. I didn’t will them to open in front of me like the first time, and yet, I heard everything. I,” she paused, screwing up her face in concentration, “It feels like I’m holding your memories and thoughts in my head like they are mine.”

Severus rose an eyebrow. There was something in his demeanor that betrayed the fact that he was deliberately not mentioning something; about what, she wasn’t quite sure yet. When he saw Hermione noticing this, he immediately changed his expression to one of pure curiosity. “Could you tell me the name of my neighbors from the memory when I was hiding in the bushes as a boy?” he asked, testing if what she said was true.

She decided that later she would read up on Legilimency, and see if she could figure out what he was deciding not to tell her. But to keep him from suspecting her suspicions, Hermione closed her eyes and searched for the instance he was talking about. It came quickly, and Hermione watched it.

“Tuney and Lily…wait that’s not Harry’s Aunt Petunia, is it? Of course! Your neighbors were the Evans!”

This time both of Snape’s eyebrows seemed to reach his hairline. “You know everything?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Well, not quite everything…,” he let his eyes linger on the penseive. “But this is remarkable. Who was that boy from the playground?”

At first, Hermione had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but then she remembered that Severus had also seen several of her memories. She racked her brain for her own memory, and finally found it. Of course, that was the time when I was ten that Gregory Latch pulled my hair until I gave him my new yo-yo.

“Er…that was Gregory Latch. He had wanted my yo-yo.”

Severus smirked at the mention of a yo-yo, the likes of which he had never heard before and therefore sounded rather amusing. “A yo-yo?”

“It’s this toy that muggle children play with. It’s this sort of ball on the end of a string that you wrap the string around, then let go, and keep going until it loses momentum.”

For the first time Hermione had heard it, Severus actually laughed – a real, mirthful laugh. Hermione smiled, for it was a nice sound to hear. “And that is amusing?” he asked her once he had stopped laughing, but he was wearing a charming smile. Hermione liked it; it made him look years younger.

From the way she had described it, Hermione noticed, it did seem extremely simplistic compared to the magical toys that wizard children play with. She began to laugh, too, and couldn’t stop for a long time. When she finally stopped, she saw that Severus was still smiling and staring at her with a very amused expression.

“You know, you should smile more often, Severus. Not a smirk or a sneer, but the real smile that you’re giving me right now. It makes you look very handsome,” Hermione boldly stated, got up, and started making a list of the needed ingredients at the desk across the room.

Every time that Hermione chose to peek a look at Severus, he was staring at the floor as if reminiscing, all the while wearing an echo of the smile that she had so quickly grown fond of.

*

Yay!! It's finally up! Now that it's posted, I'd better get feedback from everybody that begged for this, haha, because I woke up early to post it. The next chapter is under construction, and shall be up in a few days. I think I'm going to go back to bed now and dream about the end for chapter 12.... Please leave your feedback here. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 12

Hermione awoke the next morning in a very good mood. She couldn’t put a finger on it, but she knew something good was going to happen today. She was going over the events of their last afternoon in her head, noting certain points like a video she was replaying. Hermione was unbelievably thankful that Severus did not mention what he found out in his little excursion into her mind, whether he was skirting the subject to save her from further embarrassment or save himself from it, she was amazed at the presence of his tact which she didn’t know he had.

She suddenly remembered with a jolt that she now had some of Severus’s memories in her head, how could I have forgotten? She closed her eyes eagerly in an attempt to call some of them to her recollection, but as she did so the pain in her temple hit her with a bang. She did not really remember it going away – perhaps it lessened enough that it hadn’t bothered her – but not now. She gasped with surprise and put her hand to her head. Slowly, very slowly as she emptied her mind, the pain subsided. Shaking her head to be sure it was clear, she got up, dressed, and entered the main room. Severus was leaning over a potion he had just finished, examining it.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly but absentmindedly rubbing her temples, “any news in the Prophet?”

He took his eyes off his potion to rest upon her. “Nothing but the usual.”

Hermione placed her hands at her side at his questioning glance, walked over to stand beside him, and stared into the cauldron. “What are you –“ she was about to ask him what he was making, but she stopped herself, for she already knew what it was. Polyjuice Potion.

“I’m going to take some of this today and get the ingredients from Diagon Alley. You were correct, we are in dire need of replenishing,” he told her.

“Why can’t I go?”

He eyed her carefully. “Because we can’t risk you being caught.”

“Oh, but we can risk you getting caught?” she replied, defiance on each word.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, in fact.”

“Why? That’s completely one-sided!”

“So…you’re telling me that you’d rather be caught by Death Eaters, killed and let me go free rather than have me be captured?”

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it. “Yes, in fact,” she answered in a mock imitation of Severus. “And besides, who is talking about getting killed? I’ll take some Polyjuice Potion, run to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and be back before anyone knows I’d gone.”

He exhaled in a very irritated way. “You do not understand. When McGonagall told me that you would be coming here, she also told me that it would be my unfortunate responsibility to make sure you are safe. So, you are not going.”

Hermione crossed her arms and sat on the couch, very annoyed. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to go badly, maybe it was because she hadn’t left the castle in so long. I’m not a child, I don’t need to be kept a watch on.

Severus snorted in amusement. He had seen that thought, and apparently thought otherwise.

“Teach me to do that,” Hermione said abruptly. He looked at her quizzically, not understanding.

“Teach me how to see your thoughts without a wand, and flit in and out of your mind all the time,” she explained. She wanted him to understand what it felt like, for she had a feeling that he had never experienced it. Most of the time, Hermione liked it, but not when he did it while she’s thinking something she didn’t want to share with him.

Severus stared at her for a couple seconds. “I don’t know if that could be taught exactly; I learned on my own.”

She made her face to look as determined as she could.

He sighed, “Fine, but if you cannot accomplish it, I’ll have done all I can do.” He crossed the room and sat beside her on the couch, breathing rather heavily from standing for so long. “Eye contact is essential. You must try to keep your mind very open, and you still must concentrate on wanting to make your mind one with mine, perhaps more than before. Once you feel that you are holding some sort of connection…attempt to enter my mind by using yours.”

Hermione thought that these directions were rather vague, but she tried. She kept her mind as open as she could, and let her being want to become one with Severus’s. Too easy, she thought as she did that step. She was staring into his deep, dark eyes, and they seemed to work like a window between her mind and his. I definitely have the connection. She attempted the last step, to enter his mind, and let herself be led into his thoughts.

It was a wonderful feeling; she felt as if she really was one with him. Her mind was his, and she was in a very blissful state. She could clearly see Severus in front of her, but at the same time, Hermione could see something that resembled the night sky surrounding her, each star actually a thought to explore. Before she could choose one, a single thought read across her line of vision, and spoke in Severus’s voice, but all the while her vision was unobstructed and she heard only the silence of the pleasant darkness around her.

You are doing extremely well. Now let go of the connection, either by looking away or breaking it mentally.

Hermione did not like the sound of the second choice, so she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was back to her normal surroundings, and Severus was smirking.

“I have never seen anyone grasp this concept so quickly and accurately,” he commented, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are a very extraordinary witch, and gifted in this magic.”

Hermione smiled her thanks, for he usually does not compliment other people, and Hermione somehow knew that it was not easy for him.

“Could you tell me how to project my thoughts, like you just did, while I’m in that connection?” she asked eagerly, hungry for more.

Severus repositioned himself besides her so that his whole body was facing her. “Do what you did before, but this time hold your concentration on the thought you wish to project. Try.”

Before Hermione started her Legilimency, she glanced down and saw that his knee was touching her leg. This small contact sent shivers up and down her spine (though it was strange that it was a warm shiver), and she knew that this time it would work better than before. Hermione let her feelings take over and become one with his, and before she knew it she was in that pleasurable state of mind (literally). Once she could feel the connection, she put all her concentration into a single thought, Can you hear me?

The moment that she felt it, it sounded through her mind like she had spoke it, and the part of her that could still perfectly see the room she was sitting in noticed Severus’s eyes widen. Just as quickly as they expanded, his eyes became their usual, though sparkling a bit more. She immediately heard his low voice echo through her head, while at the same time she heard nothing. It was a very strange sensation.

Yes, but it is not referred to as ‘hearing.’ We are on a connection of an intellectual bond, where neither sight, hearing, nor voice is reality. The more proper phrase would be ‘can you sense me?’ for that is what our minds are doing – sensing each other.

Hermione was sure that she blushed, for it irritated her whenever she did not know something and it had to be explained to her. It made her feel ignorant, even though she hadn’t been able to find any books in the library on Legilimency, so she had every right not to know about it.

Understandable.

This thought came from Severus, and Hermione broke off the connection in confusion. He stared at her in an amused way because of her obvious bewilderment.

“Severus, how could you respond to my thoughts that last time? It wasn’t a concrete thought, but more like a line of subconscious thinking.” She was sure that steam could have erupted from her ears when she saw the look of laziness on Severus's face. He was enjoying knowing about something she did not, but Hermione did not appreciate it in the least.

“Because, all you have to do is search. Not all thoughts come through like you’re sensing now. I’m projecting straight-forwardly because this is your first time at this. Once you are used to the sensation, you can probe farther in. The mind is complicated and has many levels that even its owner usual doesn’t know exists,” he explained, idly twirling his wand on his fingers.

“But that sensation that I’m getting, do you feel the same? With the darkness and the star-like objects floating around? To me, that doesn’t seem normal. Am I wrong?”

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again. Hermione again got the distinct feeling that he was keeping something to himself, though it did not occur to her to use Legilimency to find out what that was. He addressed her questions with some hesitancy, “That is an interesting account, and no, I do not sense what you are sensing. It is…unconventional, but it may be that…the inner workings of your mind are composed differently than mine.” Hermione felt that this was a fair explanation, but it did not seem whole. She couldn’t describe it.

“Regardless of the oddities of your mentality, you are undoubtedly skilled at Legilimency. You will need practice to become used to it, though.” Hermione nodded. He got up from the couch and went over to the desk to look over the list of ingredients.

Hermione was very proud of her accomplishments in the past ten minutes, so she had a very smug face as she sat back on the couch with nothing to do but peruse the memories that she hadn’t been able to get a hold of quite yet. The moment she delved into her mind to reach them, the throbbing hit her head with such forcefulness that she made an audible noise of pain and shock. Severus’s head whipped up from his workplace, and saw that Hermione was clutching her head.

He rushed over to her (ignoring his shortness of breath) and held her head in his hands, while he performed strong Legilimency. Hermione felt the darkness envelope her, but this time the stars, for lack of a better word, were whipping around her, making her extremely dizzy. Hermione knew that something was wrong, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes, shutting out Severus. The stars were gone, but there were bursts of light on the inside of her eyelids, like she had been hit over the head.

She was aware of Severus getting up, performing a complicated spell over her and conjuring a large bottle. He was muttering some incantation as he raised his wand to her temple and extracted memory after memory. Hermione’s pain lessened with each loss of a strand of thoughts. She had never extracted a memory before – it felt like a pressure she didn’t know existed was removing itself from her brain. After about 30 repetitions, Severus sealed the bottle, with some difficulty, and placed it in her hands.

Hermione opened her eyes and focused them upon Severus. His eyes were showing some emotion that she had never seen in them before…something like guilt.

“How do you feel?” he asked, not looking her directly in the eye.

“Fine now. Thank you, what did you do?” she asked thankfully.

“How often have you felt this pain, besides the first time?” asked Severus, ifnoring her question.

“Er…twice I think. Every time I tried to recall a memory. What did you do?” Hermione repeated.

“I removed memories and put them in that bottle in place of a Penseive, for you do not have one.” Hermione seemed to notice the bottle for the first time, and placed it on the side table.

“But…why?”

This time he looked her in the eye. “Because you had too much for your head to hold. Your Legilimency yesterday was like none I’ve ever seen, how you took in every memory. I did not give a second thought to it, but we should have extracted the memories that instant. It is very dangerous to possess memories not your own besides in a Penseive, especially many of them. I did not truly understand how many of my memories you held…you could have died.”

It all made sense now. Hermione had indeed read about magical injuries and in the large chapter about the brain, there was something small written in a footnote about the extreme risk you are in if you harbor someone else’s mind in your own, which was basically what she had done. Oh, I see, he thinks it’s his fault because he didn’t empty my mind as soon as he knew I felt the pain. It was by no means his fault, in Hermione’s opinion, because he indeed saved her now.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” she said, and whatever she saw in Severus’s eyes was gone with a blink. He did not reply. “Well, we’ll need to find something else to do with these memories, since it’s not safe to keep them all in that bottle.”

“I’m aware of that, but that’s the best we can do right now,” he snapped back. Hermione kept a smile off her face, but with difficulty. She knew that he thought her annoying when she made a know-it-all statement; he always had, even as a first year, and that did not change now.

“Rest,” he commanded. “I’ll continue the list of ingredients I’ll get later tonight.”

“You mean, the list that I’ll be getting later.”

“No, I mean the list that I’ll be getting,” retorted Severus in a very final way. Hermione did not respond. I have all day to argue.

The rest of the morning past pleasantly, and most of the time was spent with both Hermione and Severus resting on chairs reading. Hermione found herself looking over the rim of her book repeatedly to glance at him without being able to stop herself, and she noticed very quickly that he read just like she did – she would reread certain phrases that made an impact on her, and check the page number to refer back to it. After possibly the tenth time, Severus spoke.

“If you must watch me while I read, I’ll begin to charge a fee for each minute. That way, I could acquire enough pocket money to sustain my retirement,” he drawled from behind his book, not looking up at her. Hermione fought down a laugh, for he was proving to be actually comical the longer she spent with him, and she didn’t want to seem like she was hanging on his every ironic statement. Her face slightly heated, she closed the book and got up.

Hermione entered her room, found Ginny’s letter in the pocket of those shorts (meanwhile deliberately not looking at her own letter), and pocketed it in the robes she was now wearing. Walking out to the main room, she reached the doorknob to the corridor outside, and looked back. Severus had glanced up at her for a fraction of a second, but pretended that he hadn’t. Surely he wants to know where I’m going, she thought, but he was purposely not acknowledging her.

With a rush of boldness, Hermione faced Severus completely, and entered the wonderful world of thoughts. Probing silently into his mind, it was plain as day - he didn’t want her to know that he cared where she went, so he pretended that he didn’t. Hermione extracted herself from his private thoughts and smirked, satisfied by what she had “sensed.” The moment that she stopped her subtle Legilimency, Severus’s eyes snapped up to hers. They fought a silent war with the stare between them, but that was also obvious; Severus did not like someone else hearing his thoughts, though it was perfectly fine for him to know hers.

“And you say it’s the Gryffindors have pride,” Hermione smirked, shaking her head. “You did say I should practice.” With those words, she left the room.

Hermione somewhat liked being bold with Severus Snape. He was so not used to it, that she saw it as a sort of learning experience for him, though she was sure that feeling was not mutual. Nonetheless, Hermione could sense something else there beneath his hard shell that he had put up around her, and it was creeping through because secretly, Hermione thought, he was intrigued by her.

Putting those thoughts aside, Hermione made her way up to the Library, hoping to kill two birds with one stone and talk to Ginny while she was there. To her luck, she spotted Ginny going down the stairs that Hermione was about to move up.

“Ginny! Hey, Ginny!” she called. Ginny looked up, and immediately rushed up to her friend.

“Hermione! I was just about to come down and see you! Where’ve you been?” she asked hurriedly.

“Where’ve I been?” Hermione didn’t understand. She looked around for students as she whispered, “You know where I’ve been.”

“No, I mean where’ve you been for the past 4 days?! I heard that you just left that meeting so abruptly, and no one has seen or heard from you since. What happened?”

Hermione hesitated, but it was long enough for Ginny to notice. Ginny was smarter than most people gave her credit for; she could see through whatever lie Hermione was about to tell her, just like on the day when she came so close to finding out about Severus.

“Ginny…you know I trust you, but –“

“That’s just it, Hermione! You’ve been keeping things from me, I know it, and I know there’re about,” she too paused to look around for students, and decided on wording it, “that man. So why don’t we skip this, and you just tell me what’s been up with you?”

Hermione could see the defiant daggers shooting in Ginny’s eyes and knew that she was in a losing battle. Beckoning her to follow, she made her way to the library with Ginny on her tail, all the while planning out just what she should say.

Once they got there, Hermione requested entrance to the Restricted Section from Madam Pince, for there were never any other students there (not to mention she could do what she left to do). Madam Pince nodded stiffly; even though Hermione and Ginny were now allowed access to the Restricted Section, she resented that fact.

Once they entered and sat themselves at a table in the far back, Ginny leaned over the table, waiting for Hermione to begin what she knew would be an interesting story.

*

Here's chapter 12! Sorry that this was sort of a more laid back chapter, but it's in the next several that important things begin to happen, so don't worry. Chapter 13 will soon be completed and posted. Meanwhile, please please please leave a comment on my feedback thread, and I'll get back to you later. Happy reading!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Chapter 13

“OK, Ginny, before I start, you must promise not to tell anyone…especially McGonagall,” she stopped at Ginny’s skeptical look. “If it were up to me I would tell McGonagall, but that’s not my choice….”

Ginny promised, and Hermione broke into the story of finding Severus in the forest (leaving out the part about their conversation about his allegiance afterwards, for she didn’t want to betray Severus’s trust on that matter quite yet), taking care of him, and the Legilimency lessons (here leaving out her strange form of Legilimency that Severus had commented on).

When she had finished, Ginny’s mouth was hanging open. Hermione jokingly shut it with her wand. “It really wasn’t that bad,” she commented.

Ginny’s eyes opened wider. “It really wasn’t that bad?! You found him bleeding to death in the forest, and you haven’t told McGonagall?”

Hermione sighed. “Ginny, I already explained this. Severus didn’t want me to tell her. I don’t know why.”

“And why do you keep calling him that?”

“Calling him what?”

“Severus,” Ginny said it with such a sugar-sweet relish on her voice that Hermione did not like. She could feel herself blushing. “It’s disgusting! He’s not Severus, he’s Snape, the professor, murderer, and git!”

Hermione really couldn't stand how Ginny was talking about him. She wished so deeply that she could explain it all to her, but she was held back. Why can’t she just understand?

“Listen, Ginny –“

“You should ask dear Severus why he won’t let you tell McGonagall. I know she’d want to know.”

Hermione ignored this completely and changed the subject, strongly wishing that she had never told her what had happened that week. She pulled out the letter from her pocket and handed it to Ginny.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“The letter from Harry and Ron.” At these words, Ginny sprung upon the letter, hungrily reading it. From upside down, Hermione could tell that it said the same thing hers did. Ginny’s face fell.

“That’s it?” Hermione could tell that Ginny had wanted very deeply to hear something special from Harry. She took the letter from her, turned it over, and whispered, “Specialis Revealo.” Sure enough, Harry’s squashed writing appeared before them.

Ginny read it faster than she had read the first message, taking in every word. When she had finished, the anger was gone from her, and she looked a little happier, but worried.

“How did you know to do that?” she asked.

Hermione shrugged. I’m certainly not telling her about Ron’s note. Changing the subject again before Ginny could object, she asked, “How’s Dennis?”

“You tell me; hasn’t Severus,” she paused, moving her tongue around her mouth in a way that suggested she had eaten something that tasted horrible, “made that memory extraction potion yet like he was supposed to?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. I forgot to tell him to make that! He’ll be furious. Ginny laughed at her friend’s face.

“Calm down, I’m just kidding. Dennis told me all that he knew yesterday; well, I sort of persuaded him,” Ginny stopped and smirked in a mischievous way. Hermione decided that she didn’t want to know as long as he spilled the details to her. “He said that when he wandered into the forest, someone grabbed him and Apparated him to a room with the Death Eaters and Voldemort in it. Someone performed the Cruciatus curse on him, and then he heard Voldemort yelling at one of the Death Eaters. Finally he pointed to Dennis, and that was the last he remembered. That’s when he must have been possessed. Oh, and Dennis is back to normal.” Ginny stopped talking and smiled, clearly proud of her accomplishment.

She grinned encouragingly to Ginny, but Hermione knew that she understood the situation much more than Ginny. Voldemort had been yelling at Severus for not giving him the Draught of Discovery, which was indeed a very brave thing to do. Severus can’t stall for much longer; I hope that we can think of something to do before he must turn over the Draught. She realized that she had been spacing out in thought, so she snapped back to normal.

“So how’s your assignment going?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, I already turned in my findings.”

Hermione honestly hadn’t been watching the time much lately, so this surprised her. “It’s been ten days already?”

“Of course! Aren’t you getting along with your potions?” asked Ginny.

“Yes, yes, it’s just…there have been other things going on,” she replied. Ginny was beginning to show signs of suspicion that were making Hermione feel nervous. “Er…we need to go to Diagon Alley today to get ingredients,” she said hastily.

“We? As in…you and Snape?” she asked, shocked. By the look on her face, it was apparent that Ginny had known about the true reason for confinement, but she had failed to mention it to her before. Ginny bit her lip, then started spilling, “Hermione, I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, but –“

“I already know. I want to go regardless, and I’m trying to find some way since Sev- Snape,” she caught herself, not wanting to see Ginny’s disgusted face again, “doesn’t want me to.”

“Hmm…,” Ginny’s cunning gears were spinning. “I would use a charm to change your appearance. How can he argue with that? I mean, no one would recognize you, and –“

“And small transfiguration charms like that don’t have a time limit, so time wouldn’t run out like Polyjuice Potion! That’s perfect.” Hermione became very glad again that she had Ginny as a friend.

Ginny looked at the clock on the wall. “Hey, I’ve gotta run. McGonagall wanted to tell me something. Actually, she said that you should know, too. Wanna come?”

Hermione declined, and made Ginny swear to come back immediately and tell her what McGonagall had wanted. Definitely suspicious now, Ginny left the library with a small half-hearted wave back at her. Hermione sighed, glad that she could do what she came to the library for.

Eager for information, Hermione skimmed the spines of the books on the shelves of the Restricted section for “Legilimency”, for she knew there were no books on it in the normal section, and for some reason Hermione was positive that she would find all the answers she needed in a good book. Not to mention, she might be able to find out what Severus was holding back.

Hmmm…, Hermione thought after 15 minutes of looking at every book, none of them about Legilimency. Suddenly inspiration struck. “Accio Legilimency books!” she whispered excitedly, willing them to come to her.

Slowly, a great silver book emerged from an unknown place that Hermione must have over looked and floated gently into her open hands. It was old, but it looked as though possibly only two people had opened it in all the years it had called this library a home. The words Legilimency: the Complete Art were embroidered fantastically in scarlet against the slightly faded silver background. Hermione gingerly set it down on the table and opened it, while lovingly caressing the cover. My, she did love books.

The author was anonymous, and there was no index, so Hermione simply started to read. Hours went by…or maybe minutes, for Hermione was never quite sure how much time passed while she read because she was completely unaware of her surroundings. It was thoroughly interesting; even though she knew all about the basic concept, she was blindly unaware of how many varieties of Legilimency there were.

Finally, Hermione reached something that held her spellbound, for it described just what had apparently happened to her and Severus yesterday and today. She read it hungrily, but still took in every word:

“There is but one more form of Legilimency, ye only very few people have ever been able to accomplish it, and this author has only heard one account of this brilliant magic. It traces back to the beginning of time, and the most ancient and rudimentary magic; sadly, though however fundamental this magic is, its truest form is difficult to find, and those that happen to come across it almost never know its full potential .”

Hermione paused, so eager that she had to stop herself to calm down. She began to read slower:

“In the account above mentioned, the wizard described a state of mind-over-matter when Legilimency was performed. All opposing thoughts were not only seen, but understood and held. He could not describe how the physical make-up appeared, for he soon died after the author’s questioning. It is well-known that death is certain for anyone holding another’s mind in their own for an extended length of time, but this is precisely what this type of Legilimency can access. As mentioned on page 138, it is possible to form a rather crude connection between minds with Legilimency, and communicate with thought. By using this rare method, the connection may become permanent if the wizard so chooses. Some call this manner of Legilimency dark magic, but they are mistaken; on the contrary, it is quite the opposite. The only wizard who can retrieve this form of a connection is one who knows the magic but does not wish to abuse it, one who shares it with the object of Legilimency. Many dream of this power, but do not recognize it because of its simplicity. The one who can accomplish this form of Legilimency feels, and embraces, the ancient power of love with the recipient.”

Hermione stopped completely, and reread the last sentence. No, that can’t be right. She backed up and read two sentences preceding it. It was indeed correct. The recipient…that would be Severus if I am the one performing Legilimency. Her mind slowly fitting it all together, she read the next paragraph with such haste that she was finished in about 10 seconds.

“Love is the type of magic that can bind, and binding minds is its easiest form; consequently this Legilimency is based upon love alone. Unfortunately, the few people who experience reciprocated love cannot perform adequate Legilimency, and therefore this tool goes unused. The only person, or shall we say persons because both are involved, who can reach this level of a connection must be skilled at Legilimency and already have a connection of love between them. This concept has been disputed, but it has been proven that both persons must have love for each other, no matter how dormant, subconscious, or denied that love may be, in order for this to occur.”

She closed the book immediately, for she had the last paragraph in her head already, and was dissecting it. There must already be a connection of love between them…no matter how dormant, subconscious, or denied that love may be…. Everything was in a blur. Hermione couldn’t believe it. She knew that she liked Severus, and it was very possible that she might love him deep down, but if what this book said was true, then Severus loved her, even if he didn’t know it or want to believe it. Hermione got up very slowly, and picked up the book. She had to ask Severus about this, ask if he knew all along, and that was what he hadn’t been telling her.

Hermione found herself walking down towards the dungeons without knowing how she had gotten there. She felt numb; she wanted to feel happy, but she refused to for fear of being let down, and falling down from this would mean a very hard hit at the bottom. She was holding the book close to her, and her footsteps seemed to echo very loudly down to the secret entrance to their rooms.

As she reached out her hand to open the door, she got a sudden impulse not to confront Severus about this just yet. She wasn’t sure why, but it was a strong feeling, so she decided to heed to it. She charmed the book to shrink and put it in her cloak pocket. Slightly nervous for no good reason, she opened the door.

Severus was magically clearing a tray of food that he had just eaten. He did not look at her as she walked in, and Hermione had a small hunch why.

“Hi, er…I was out talking to Ginny Weasley. How long have I been gone?” she asked quietly.

“Two and a half hours. You were talking to that girl for two and a half hours?” he replied, raising his eyes to perform Legilimency, clearly not believing her, but she was certainly not going to let him see what she really had been doing (though she wasn’t sure why; she was simply trusting her woman’s intuition). She didn’t let him see how surprised she was as to how long she had been gone, either, for she had no idea.

When he realized that his efforts were futile, he scowled and put his eyes back down to his now clear table space and conjured the Daily Prophet to finish reading it. It was obvious, or at least it appeared that way to Hermione, that he was angry that she had left for so long, for there was nothing else for him to do but sit and wait for her to return, and he did not much like that as the only alternative. Hermione realized suddenly why it was so obvious – the book had mentioned something about a constant connection being kept – she was simply using the subtle connection that was between them; she was understanding him. Hermione wished very much to know whether or not he knew what was happening, but Severus probably wouldn’t take kindly to Legilimency right now.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, honestly.”

Severus looked up at her again, and seemed to deem this last statement true, but he still did not speak.

“Er…if it’s all right with you, I would like to go to Diagon Alley right now. Look,” Hermione said very fast, and raised her wand to her head. With several flicks and a nonverbal spell, she transformed her hair to become straight and blond, her nose to slightly elongate, her eyes to turn blue, and several freckles to blemish her face. She conjured a mirror, and gazed into it, pleased at how different she appeared.

“See? No one will recognize me.”

He appeared to be thinking it over, and he was again giving off the impression that he did not care what Hermione did, but she could see through it. In one sudden movement, he performed silent Legilimency that she was not ready for, and saw that last thought of hers – how she could see through the act he was putting on.

“Go,” Severus commanded in anger. “Go to Diagon Alley, and do not return until you have everything!” His tone was frightening, and Hermione gladly grabbed her traveling cloak, her purse with her Galleons from her room, and Apparated to Diagon Alley. The last thing she saw was his scowl as he turned away from her and she disappeared.

After the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tube, which Hermione was actually starting to like, she appeared in Diagon Alley, next to Flourish and Blotts. Hermione gasped in surprise; it was so different. There were very few people on the street, and those that were walking were practically running with their cloaks tight around their faces. Several shops were boarded up, including Ollivander’s, Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream. She could see a group of people up ahead that were talking and laughing – Death Eaters. Severus was right…they are taking over.

Shivering and pulling her cloak tighter around herself, she put her hood up and hurriedly walked in imitation of the other people on the street. Within minutes, she found herself at the entrance to the Apothecary. She kept her hood up as she ignored the horrible smell and set about to collecting everything on the list. After only about 20 minutes, she had found everything on the paper and had bought the items from the extremely jumpy clerk.

Proud of her achievement, Hermione exited the shop and double-checked to make sure she had everything. With a sudden burst of disappointment, she noticed Severus’s scrawl on the back listing a few more things, such as acromantula venom and giant’s saliva, which she knew would only be found in Knockturn Alley because of the sinister potions you could make from them. Hermione sighed and walked towards the entrance to the Alley.

She did not enter, just stood there for a moment, peering into it. She had only been there once, in sixth year, to enter Borgin and Burkes; the clerk had been less than inviting. It was very dangerous to go into Diagon Alley alone, especially now, but Hermione remembered the look on Severus’s face when he told her not to come back unless she had everything. Surely he didn’t remember that I had to come to Knockturn Alley to do so…right? Hermione couldn’t answer her own question, and decided to just do it; Severus probably thought that she wouldn’t go in the Alley, therefore leaving him pleased not to let her return because she hadn’t been able to perform the task he set to her.

Hermione got a stroke of determination, and began to walk down the dark Knockturn Alley. Very quickly she realized that this was a bad decision, seeing as how she had no idea where an apothecary was down here, and there were people lurking in each corner she passed. Not out of fear, but out of good judgment of her own safety, Hermione turned around and began to walk back up to Diagon Alley. She was just about there when from out of nowhere someone yelled, “Petrificus Totalus!” and Hermione was immediately frozen. She fell to the ground, now terrified.

She watched with wide blue eyes as four Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, picked her up, and pulled her into a corner of the street. They leaned her against the wall of a building and stared quizzically at her from behind their masks.

“What do you think, Lucius?” one of them asked brusquely.

Now Hermione could see the blond hair protruding from under one man’s mask – Malfoy. He lit the tip of his wand and stared down at her. “I’ve never seen this one down here before, and she smells like a Mudblood. Actually, she resembles….”

Lucius stopped talking, comprehension dawning. He waved his wand across her face and said, “Concealus Terminado.” If Hermione could have widened her eyes any more, she would have; he was performing the only spell which could remove her transfigured features. Slowly she felt her hair and nose changing shape, and she knew her eyes and freckles were also adjusting. To her surprise, as this occurred, the freezing spell lessened on her head, making it so she could move it and speak.

Hermione immediately began to whip her head around to keep them from looking at her, and she started yelling for help. “Silencio, you little Mudblood,” another Death Eater said, and she fell silent, but she continued to move. “Malley, did you lift that spell?”

The one performing the Petrificus Totalus shrugged stupidly, and Hermione thought he might have done it accidentally from the shock of seeing her appearance change. Hermione figured he must be a new recruit, but she also thought he looked exceptionally stupid.

The fourth Death Eater grabbed her hair and tugged upwards, holding her head still. Hermione felt tears spring in her eyes from the pain he had ensued.

“So, it’s the Mudblood Granger down Knockturn Alley! Imagine how the Dark Lord will reward us for delivering her to him!” Lucius exclaimed in excitement.

“It’s not very smart to go wandering alone,” the one she recognized as Avery whispered threateningly to her and then laughed along with the others.

“Should we take her straight to the Dark Lord, or get information out of her now and report later?” the other man asked Lucius.

Lucius smirked. “Good idea, Travers. I’ll let you three have a little…fun with her until she decides to talk, as long as I get to finish her off,” he said silkily, fingering his wand.

The other Death Eaters surrounded her, and Hermione tried with all her might to scream, but the Silencio charm held fast. She desperately did the only thing she could think of, and she went into the world of thought to try to communicate with Severus. Of course, this time there were no stars, only a frightening darkness that was pressing in on Hermione from all sides. She reached out to the man many miles away, but she could see only emptiness where he should have been.

**

Woot, woot! Ok, that was a big chapter, and full of important things. I hope you all liked it, for it was extremely difficult to write the middle bit. I worked hard on it, so I really would like some feedback and comments. Here's my feedback thread. The next chapter will be up soon!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Here's the next chapter! I started out the first part a little differently - it's in Severus's point of view, and it backtracks a little bit. I just wanted a slight change of pace. At the first page break, it returns to the present, Hermione's point of view (I just wanted to make that clear). By all means, read on, for this is a very important chapter that I hope you'll all enjoy!

*

Chapter 14

“Go,” Severus commanded in anger. “Go to Diagon Alley, and do not return until you have everything!” He watched as Hermione left the room and then returned, wearing her cloak and carrying her purse. He met her soft gaze with a hard scowl, and turned around the moment she Apparated so he did not have to hold her stare any longer. Just when she had disappeared, he kicked his chair so that it fell over, but he did not feel the pain that was throbbing in his foot.

He crossed the room and sat on the couch, his scowl remaining.

How dare she…she is bold, annoying, and most of all completely Gryffindor in every aspect.

Severus was fuming for reasons he did not understand.

Just like her. I can’t stand it…I can’t stand her, she’s just like –

He cut that thought off before it consumed it again, like it so many times had. He gradually calmed down the longer he did not think about her. It was stupid, really, how she had such control over his emotions even when she was not around. But maybe she felt the same.

After all, her Legilimency…

He stopped that thought also, for in the last 24 hours he had thought about that possibly even more than his last thought. No, not quite that much, but too often. He couldn’t deny the fact that their Legilimency was…different to say the least. Severus had theories, but the most terrifying one was the most accurate so far. Of course, he had not read up on it, he had heard stories, but Severus was sure that Hermione would be doing research soon. She knew he was keeping something from her, but how could he even possibly broach that subject?

Unthinkable.

Over the days they had spent together, he became aware of the strange warmth he felt when she said things, did certain things. He almost always ignored them, but they were becoming more frequent the more often he felt irritated with her. It was thoroughly perplexing, and Severus wasn’t too fond of the idea. He also noticed how alike they were; that was perhaps the strangest thing. No one was like Severus, he was…different.

More intelligent, more troubled…more misunderstood.

Yet Hermione seemed to understand that and actually didn’t care. He could feel it by the way she talked to him, and how she treated him. She made the appearance that she wanted to understand him. And whether she knew it or not, their actions mirrored each other’s. They were equal – both defiant, bold, and very clever. Severus couldn’t explain how he felt about it. He hadn’t felt that way in a very long time, so it was hard to tell if it really was the same feelings rekindled.

Deep down he knew. Deep down she had to know also, for the Legilimency….

Legilimency….

Severus stopped dead, recollection and a new feeling taking over. He had forgotten the ingredients he needed in Knockturn Alley. In such a stupid moment of uncontrolled anger, he sent her there and he would bet his life that Hermione had gone there. He could almost hear his conscience in the form of her voice, scolding him for his lapse of judgement.

Wait…that was her voice. But from where? He closed his eyes and put himself into the outer world of the mind. Her voice was louder here, and it was pleading. Something was wrong.

With a swish of his cloak, and a curse muttered under his breath, Severus was gone.

**

Severus! Severus…please...!

She knew it was futile, but still she tried. Hermione was trying to block out what was happening around her, to her, for they were terrifying to the greatest extent. Her voice was still silenced, so she could not even scream out loud, but in her mind she was tormented just as much as she was physically. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was in so much pain even though no spell was cast upon her; she had given up hope.

Suddenly she felt very warm, and she knew he was here before she even saw him. With a sound like a gunshot, there was a burst of light and the Death Eaters around her were blown away from her. The spells binding her were broken, and she let out a painful scream as she hugged her cloak around her and fell to the ground.

Severus was walking toward her, wand raised and looking furious as he looked down at the 4 men now beginning to stand up.

“Play along.” Severus’s voice rang through her head. One look at his eyes showed that he was doing some extremely quick thinking.

He walked right up to her and slapped her across the face. Her look of shock was stifled under his gaze, pleading her to understand, before it melting back to the anger it was playing out.

“What didja do that for?” Malley asked thickly and sorely as he approached them.

“What do you mean, ‘what did I do that for?’” Severus spat back. “The Mudblood is mine.”

“Yours?” Lucius questioned suspiciously, “This girl has been on the run from us, she cannot be in your possession.”

Severus arched an eyebrow menacingly. “And I suppose you think you are the only one who could have found her and trapped her?”

Despite his threatening tone, Severus’s breathing was labored from so much activity, seeing as how he was not completely healed just yet.

“Whatchoo breathin’ like tha’ for?” Malley again opened his stupid mouth.

Severus turned slowly to face him and stood up to his full height. Since Malley was rather short, this was intimidating. “You know why I’m breathing like this, you idiot, you watched!” Severus growled through gritted teeth as he ripped open his cloak to show a rather grisly scar across his chest. He swiped his wand across Malley and he fell to the ground, clutching a wound on his cheek.

“Nice patchwork, Snape,” Avery sneered at Severus’s scar, “do that yourself?”

“No,” he replied, raising his wand to Avery. “She did.” He jerked his head in Hermione’s direction, and his words sounded disgusted.

Lucius’s wand was raised to Severus’s face, and there was disbelief etched in every line of his face. “Explain.”

Severus sighed, very irritated. “I tracked her down and found her in hiding. I extracted her memories to give to the Dark Lord, but she does not know where Potter is, so she is of no use to Him. I could not let her go free, so I chose to enslave her. She does what I ask, and as long as she keeps me pleased, then she is not harmed. She tried to escape just now, and she will be greatly punished.” He said the last two words facing Hermione, and if she didn’t know he was lying, she would have been terrified of him.

Lucius stepped up to his full height as well, which matched Severus’s. He had never trusted Severus completely; maybe it was because he had always wished to be favored by the Dark Lord like Severus was, but when Voldemort wasn’t watching, they were as good as enemies.

“You have never been one of us who, ah…abuses Mudbloods. Not at the World Cup nor anywhere else, so why should we believe you would change now?” Lucius sneered.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Severus’s lip was curling in anger.

Lucuis smirked and whispered, “Yes, I suppose I am. We have no proof that you are using the Mudblood for your, ahem, personal benefits, so we can only believe that it’s a lie to keep her from the Dark Lord on behalf of the Order. It’s no secret that you’re a double agent, and I believe that this is perfect proof.”

Severus now smirked very menacingly once more and raised both eyebrows. “You think so, Malfoy?” he asked as he turned around to face Hermione.

“Resist me.” Severus’s voice rang through Hermione’s head once more. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up. Pain shot through Hermione’s body, and she cried out. He was holding her forcefully, but she could still feel the warmth emanating from his hands on her skin, and that was the only thing that made her want to fight the unconsciousness that was slowly threatening to overtake her.

At her cry, Severus shook her. He was facing away from the Death Eaters, so only Hermione could see the extremely apologetic look in his eyes as he moved one hand from her arm to her hair. He pulled it upwards to keep her head still.

Another cry of pain escaped her lips, and she became suddenly aware of the tears that were still falling down her face. “Shut up, you stupid girl!” Severus yelled at her, and then he did something that Hermione was not prepared for.

He pressed his mouth very hard against hers; Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. From the outside, it would have looked like an act of cruelty, but Hermione could feel the softness of his lips making an act out of it. Hermione just remembered that she was supposed to resist. She began to kick out, and finally landed one hard in his knee. He stumbled backwards, and Hermione started to run up the alley.

Severus regained himself sooner than she expected, not to mention he had longer legs, so that even when he was limping he caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and turned to face Lucius.

“I do not lie,” Severus spat at him. Only Hermione was close enough to hear his ragged breathing. “Give…my best to the Dark Lord.” He gasped midway through the sentence, struggling to catch his breath. Hermione knew that they had to get out of there, or the whole act would be blown. She took advantage of Severus’s weak moment, and shook him off. Just as she began to run, she tripped on the corner of her cloak and fell to the ground hard.

Her head hit off the cobblestone streets. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was the cruel laughter of the Death Eaters, one of them being Severus.

**

Hermione opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. Lights popped in her line of vision and she had a tremendous headache; she closed her eyes and moaned involuntarily. She heard footsteps walking toward her and then felt strong arms put her in a sitting position. This brought extreme pain, so Hermione whimpered, to which she heard a soft “shh” shushing her. She became aware of pain all through her body when she felt someone else sit behind her to help her stay sitting up. A steaming goblet was tipped to her mouth, but she resisted it.

“Hermione, drink this,” came the voice of Severus Snape from right behind her. Of course. She succumbed to him, and let him give her the contents of the goblet. Once she had drunk it all, Hermione let her weight fall back upon Severus, who did not get up.

She opened her eyes, and saw his sparkling obsidian eyes looking back down at her upside down. Despite her pain, Hermione smiled at him; he reciprocated it, but only half-heartedly.

“I am so sorry,” he said very low, taking his eyes off her.

She did not understand. He saved me, why should he be sorry?

“Because I sent you there,” Severus said angrily, full of self-disgust, in reply to her thoughts. “I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know if you haven’t been….” As he said this last sentence, Hermione heard more emotion on his words than she had ever heard from him before. It was kind, and guilty, and almost fearful all at once. He nodded his head toward her body, which was covered in a blanket.

Hermione followed his gaze to her covered body, lifted up the blanket, and opened her cloak. She gasped to see cuts and bruises all over herself, and her clothes were ripped and torn so parts of her body that she usually covered were revealed. She instantly threw the blanket back over herself and looked back up at Severus, who had become very interested in looking at something across the room.

Hermione closed her eyes and let everything sink in. She had been in shock while it happened, and now it all played out before her eyes. The hopelessness she had felt, the terror, all until Severus appeared. He had saved her indefinitely, regardless of what he had to do to get her out of there. Hermione couldn’t believe how stupid she had been, to go down Knockturn Alley, and look where it got her? It felt like everything was pressing down on her, the horror of it all.

Hermione felt herself shaking, and the tears were coming down harder. Severus had turned back to her, and was looking at her with such compassion that she couldn’t believe it was the same man that had always scowled at her. It was so unreal, all of it…Hermione looked back down at her battered body and very suddenly got up, swaying slightly.

With fumbling fingers, she tied her cloak completely around her and stumbled over to the table, Severus following her, unsure of what she was doing. Hermione didn’t even know why she was moving around – even though it hurt, it seemed better than just lying there helplessly. When she reached the table, she bent over it with her head hung and her hands gripping the sides of it. She let the tears fall, for she felt more controlled in this position. Hermione could hear Severus stop moving behind her, and she knew that he didn’t know what to do.

Very slowly, he extended a hand and placed it on her shoulder, but the moment he did so she began to shake again, so he immediately let go, afraid that he had done the wrong thing. But Hermione was not shaking in fear or anything of the sort; she was so grateful, so unbelievably thankful that he had been there.

Without any warning, Hermione turned around and threw her arms around Severus in a tight embrace. He was shocked, to say the least, but slowly his arms reached around her back and held her close to him. She was still crying, but she distinctly said, “Thank you, Severus,” many times over.

It felt so good, to have those arms around her, and Hermione knew that no one could hurt her here. After many long minutes, she pulled away from him and stared into his eyes, but he looked down.

“Hermione, I’m sorry I had to – “

“No,” she choked out, “no, I didn’t care! Thank you, thank you…if you hadn’t, I don’t think I would have made it as long as I did.”

He met her gaze and held it. “I don’t understand,” he said very quietly.

“Why? You know, don’t you?” He did not answer her, but looked quizzically into her bright, tear stained face.

“Do you mean that you have learned…?”

“Learned of something I wish I had known before, yes.”

“What,” it was barely a question. He wanted to persuade her to tell what she knew, know if she had done the research yet.

“Something that would explain much that has to do with…a certain kind of magic.”

“And this magic…you think you understand why certain things have been happening?”

“Yes, I believe so, but do you know what I think I understand?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Yes, I believe I do.” While neither of them was speaking in full terms, both were fully aware that the other knew what they knew. Hermione smiled a very small smile and knew why she had waited to show him the book – because now…now it was different. Now was a much better time. She slowly reached into her cloak and pulled out the miniature book. She handed it to him.

His eyes were wide as he whispered, “Engorgio,” and the words Legilimency: the Complete Art reflected the light of the room in their full size.

“Did you…where…?” Severus was having a hard time forming complete sentences now. His throat was dry and his heart was beating very fast. Hermione reached out and flipped to the pages that she had so willingly memorized and let him read it. When he had finished, he stared at the last word for a long time before he looked back up at her. He had never seen this book, nor read anything like what it had explained, but he knew it was correct.

“D-did you know?” she asked him quietly. It was difficult for her to speak; her mouth was dry, and her heart was racing. She felt into their connection and knew that he felt the same, but that did nothing but make her a little more nervous.

He swallowed. “Just a guess…nothing like this.”

She paused. “Why…why didn’t you say something before?”

“How could I? What on earth would I say?” Severus was talking faster now. “I had no proof that this was what it truly was. Besides, you are young and…beautiful,” he paused to swallow again, “and I am…well, the idea was less than unlikely.”

He waited for her to say something, but she did not. Hermione was hanging onto every word he said.

“I refused to believe it for fear of….”

“Being let down? Because falling from there would be too hard a hit at the bottom?” she finished for him, barely audible. It was just what she had been afraid of, and his replying gaze showed that she had said it quite accurately. The connection between them was becoming even clearer, and she let him see her thoughts from earlier today, when she had found out the truth about their Legilimency. He smirked and looked away when he found that his thoughts had been the same as hers.

“Severus,” she whispered, her anticipation mounting each second.

He looked back at her. Neither one spoke, just held and embraced the connection that was slowly taking over, and neither objected. Hermione leaned forward, and his arms found their way around her waist. His face moved closer to hers; they were an inch apart, eyes still locked. Hermione felt like she could see into his soul, and he could see hers, but she didn’t mind. His breath was warm, tempting her, tickling her.

They closed their eyes at the same moment, but at said moment, Hermione felt a spark on their connection. Before she could think about it the distance was closed between them and they were one.

His lips were soft, warmer than his breath, and very passionate. Hermione’s hands became entwined in his long hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. It felt like her mind was on fire; not out of literal heat, but from the strength of the connection…the magnitude of the binding force that held their bond. Nonetheless, it was not painful – it felt wonderful.

Severus’s strong arms were wrapped around her, and he tightened his grip so that she was pressed even closer to him. Hermione was aware of the pain in her torso and lower body, but it felt like it was someone else’s body, and moreover she didn’t care. She was elated, happier than she had felt in months. The memories of the day were slipping away as she became lost in a dream, a dream which involved a damsel in distress falling into the loving arms of her knight in shining armor, who just happened to be wearing billowing black robes.

*

Yayy!!! I love this chapter. And I have to say that the knight in shining armor bit was all workaholic_1231's idea, and I just had to put it in because it was so great, and I hope it makes you guys laugh, too. I really want to know what you think of this chapter, because it was definitely momentous. Leave the feedback here, nad I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

This is the last chapter I will be able to post before I leave tomorrow. I have chapter 15 done, but I'll have no time to put it up until I get back. Sorry!!! Anyways, I'll be writing 16 while I'm gone, and I'll post 15 the moment I reach the computer, haha. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l

[drhpluvr4l]

Ok, before I start there are several things I want to tell you. First, I'm sorry it took so long to post. Second, I'm SO HAPPY about the feedback I got about the last chapter, and I'll be replying to it soon. Also, I'm getting more and more pressed for time, so I'm condensing things. I wanted to have a few chapters between this one and the last for obvious reasons once you read it, but I want to make sure I can post the whole storyline. If you think it's moving too fast, please say so.

One last thing, I'm going sort of non-canon now. Some things in this fic are along with book 7...well, sort of...but I'm definitely making some major changes between the book and my fic here. That's about it, sorry for my rambling - read on!

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Chapter 15

They broke apart after what seemed like a year, and Severus was smiling down at her. That’s the kind of smile I like.

“Then I’ll wear it more often,” rang the reply through her head. Hermione smiled and shifted her weight, but easily lost her balance. Severus caught her before she fell, but the smile was gone and he looked very worried.

“Hermione, you really need to lie down. You haven’t eaten all day, have you?” he asked. She shook her head, and now her headache returned; or maybe it had been there the whole time and she just hadn’t realized it – Hermione didn’t know, but it was certainly here now. She stepped towards the couch, but her knees buckled.

I guess I’m not as well as I thought, Hermione thought as she felt Severus pull her up and helped her lie down. She sighed at the small relief she felt when she wasn’t supporting her own weight.

”The healing tonic I gave you should be kicking in soon, but right now I need to mend those cuts,” Severus commented, taking out his wand, but other than that he did not move.

Her brow furrowed, not understanding his hesitance.

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but you are very revealed underneath that cloak,” he muttered, slightly embarrassed, “maybe you should change your clothes first.”

She nodded, and picked her wand up from the side table. “Accio pajamas,” she said and her shorts and camisole came zooming. She was very grateful for his sense of privacy that he was giving her. Severus exited the room while she changed, with great difficulty, but she did it. Her old clothes were bloodstained and looked like tattered rags instead of a shirt and skirt.

Severus returned and saw her looking at her old clothes. The connection between the two of them was stronger now, and he could feel everything she felt. He pointed his wand at the pile of clothes and muttered, “Incendio.” They caught fire, and burned down to ashes, which was completely fine with Hermione. She did not wish to ever see them again.

Aguamenti. Her nonverbal spell set out the flames, and Severus made them disappear with another flick of his wand. Hermione closed her eyes again, for she could feel the potion beginning to work, and it felt strange.

She could feel Severus tracing his wand over cuts on her legs, arms and stomach. When he knelt down to heal her face, he was so close to her that the shivers went down her back again. She opened her eyes and found a tray of food on her lap.

“Eat, you need your strength,” he told her. “Are you in any pain?”

“No,” Hermione replied, “not since the potion started working.”

Severus smirked. “It appears that we are in the same predicament we were in a few days ago, only our roles have switched. Once you eat, I’m sure you’ll want to get some rest, but I will wake you in two hours for more Health Tonic.”

She looked at the cauldron on the desk which was full of the tonic. “Oh, you collected the ingredients, then?”

“Yes,” he said softly. He wanted her to eat, but Hermione was too curious.

“What happened after I blacked out?”

He hesitated. “They started to come towards you, but I stunned them and Disapparated with you. I,” he absentmindedly rubbed his chest, “struggled, but managed to carry you here and start brewing your potion. Other than that I just…waited for you to wake.”

Hermione felt an enormous pang of gratitude when she found out that he had carried her all the way from the forest while he could barely breathe. She expressed this through the connection, and Severus smiled.

“Now that that’s all clear, will you please eat?” Hermione nodded and Severus starting walking toward the desk, but he turned around. “Oh, and,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “I did not mend everything. For some of your injuries, I think it best to wait until you are a little better, and you can do them yourself. I would not dare abuse your privacy after what you’ve just been through.”

Hermione was smiling a very small smile whilst she ate. He was amazing how much he understood her, she never dreamed that a man would have so much courtesy for her personal feelings. Then again, the boys she had grown up alongside were never perfect gentlemen, kind as they were. The moment that she had eaten, Hermione felt very full and suddenly weak, so it was no surprise that she drifted off to sleep as Severus had suggested.

**

Hermione could hear two people whispering; one sounded hysterical, and the other was rude while trying to calm the first. She was between being awake and asleep, so whatever she heard wasn’t making much sense to her.

”Wake her up! Please, you must – “

“No! Hold your tongue, insolent girl, you have no idea what she has – “

“I’m warning you, Snape – “

“Do not speak to me like that, Miss Weasley! You will leave my quarters now!”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to – “

“Whatever it is can wait!”

“NO!” this voice had shrieked and Hermione heard crying. Somewhere in the part of her mind that was awake recognized this to be Ginny. She was fighting with Severus about something…but she was too tired to fully wake just yet.

Hermione heard footsteps approaching her and someone shook her waist in an attempt to wake her up, and she gasped with the sudden pain. She heard Severus grab Ginny and pull her away from her, whispering something in a very threatening tone. Ginny was still crying, and now Hermione chose to open her eyes.

It was a strange scene indeed. Severus was holding tight to Ginny’s wrist, who was trying to get to Hermione. Her face was tear-stained and her hair was a mess. When Ginny saw that Hermione’s eyes were open she gasped and fought harder than ever to free Snape’s grasp.

“Hermione! Hermione, listen to me,” her words were choked out between sobs, but Severus was faster.

”Silencio!” Ginny was silenced. Her glare was one to rival Snape’s as they had a battle of stares. Suddenly Ginny jerked free and ran to the desk where she scribbled something on a scrap of paper, tears falling on it as she wrote. She ran with it to try to give it to Hermione, but again, Severus was faster. He grabbed it from her and read it. His eyes widened ever so slightly and then reduced to slits.

“Come with me,” he commanded, and pulled Ginny rather forcefully into Hermione’s bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

Hermione had been watching all of this in shock, with her mouth slightly open. What on earth is going on? She could hear the both of them speaking in the next room, but not loud enough for her to hear. Apparently Severus had lifted the Silencing Charm to discuss something with Ginny, but Ginny was becoming more hysterical the more they spoke. Finally Severus said something that made Ginny stop dead. She did not say anything for a long time. Then they both exited the room, both stared at Hermione. Ginny’s eyes filled with tears again, and she ran out into the corridor and out of sight.

Hermione was beyond confused. Severus was not looking at her, but at the scrap of paper that he had taken from Ginny.

“Severus?” Hermione’s voice faltered. He looked at her and recomposed his features, making it appear that nothing was wrong, but Hermione knew there was. “Severus, why was Ginny here? Why were you treating her like that?”

He did not answer her. Severus took a goblet and filled it with a Healing Potion, and knelt by Hermione’s side.

“Just drink this.”

“No, tell me what you were discussing!”

He ignored her, blocking her penetration with Occlumency. He propped her up a little, and gave her the goblet. The instant she finished it, the bombardment began.

“Look, I know something happened, so why not save all this time and just tell me?”

Severus sighed. “I am concerned for your well-being. You have been through much today, and I don’t think you can handle anything else until you are completely better.”

Hermione studied his face, and she knew that whatever he wasn’t telling her wasn’t too important to him – but he knew it would be to her. She could tell that he would not tell her, so she tried a different approach.

“Why was Ginny so hysterical?”

No reply.

“Fine then, what have you told her? She must know something was wrong because you wouldn’t let her near me.”

“Yes, she knew something was wrong…I had to tell her the truth.”

Hermione shot into a sitting position a little faster than was smart, and she winced in pain. Severus sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, to help steady her, for Hermione wavered slightly. But soon enough, Hermione exploded.

“The truth? You told Ginny what happened to me today?!” she didn’t think Severus quite understood the seriousness of what just happened. “Ginny can’t keep her mouth shut, she’ll be off to tell McGonagall!”

“I’m aware of your friend’s loose-lipped tendencies,” Severus replied coolly, “but it was in exchange for other information. It’s somewhat obvious, you know. Your bruising is in…unusual places.” He acknowledged her torso and her jaw and neck area; as usual, Severus was right. “Why do you wish to keep McGonagall out of this?”

“The same reason you didn’t want me to tell her about your injuries,” Hermione retorted. Severus had never been clear with her on that fact, but it was a fair argument nonetheless. For her it was just the principle of the thing – she didn’t want McGonagall to think that she couldn’t handle things on her own. “Either way, she’ll know soon.”

“Yes, but believe me, if one of us should be worried about her, it is me.”

No sooner had the words escaped his lips when there was a bang, and Professor McGonagall entered the room looking both furious and very worried. Severus took his arm off of Hermione’s shoulders and got up so fast that it took her a moment to steady herself again.

“SEVERUS!” she exclaimed the moment the door shut. “What in the world were you THINKING?”

“Why is it that no one finds it necessary to knock before they enter my quarters?” Severus muttered darkly.

McGonagall ignored him and walked straight over to Hermione, and began to look her over. Through her gasps at Hermione’s extensive bruising, Hermione noticed a very sad look in the Headmistress’s eyes. She looked rather unkempt, as well.

“Hermione, are you all right?” she spoke very slowly, as if Hermione had a hearing problem.

“Y-yes,” she replied waveringly. “Severus took care of me. I’m just a little shaken up, that’s all.” The moment she said ‘Severus’, McGonagall looked at her suspiciously. From over McGonagall’s shoulder, Hermione saw Severus rub his forehead, and she knew that she shouldn’t have called him that.

“Severus took care of you? The last time I spoke with you, you hardly seemed on terms for using his first-name.” McGonagall was sharp, but not sharp enough for Severus.

“I don’t think the reason you came here was to investigate what she calls me, correct me if I’m wrong,” he drawled.

McGonagall seemed to just remember why she came as well. She stepped up very close to Severus and spoke in a very tight voice, her cheeks flushed in anger, “How dare you…how DARE you send her alone to Knockturn Alley! Look what’s happened! She could have been…she may have been…well, for all I know, she HAS been…and you dare to stand there like that?” She was so angry that she wasn’t forming complete sentences.

Severus arched an eyebrow. “I can dare to stand here however I like. You can see, the girl is all right. And I did not send her -”

“Have you asked her what’s happened? Do you have any idea what has been done to her? Yes, you’ve mended her physical injuries, but –“

“It’s my fault, Minerva,” Hermione’s small voice interrupted. Both of them whipped around to face her, and Severus had an odd expression on his face. “You see, I went without permission, and I had a…a lapse of judgment and I was so stupid as to walk down Knockturn Alley, alone. If S-Snape wouldn’t have come when he did….”

Hermione’s tears refolded. She was again hit with the reality of what had happened, but she wanted to make sure that Severus was not to blame for this. McGonagall rushed over and put her arms around her.

“Here,” McGonagall handed her a handkerchief. She pulled out a bottle out of the pocket of her cloak and began to dab it onto Hermione’s visible bruises, which instantly disappeared. “My, you have every right to cry, what with the events of the day, and…and the news of your friend….” McGonagall sniffled.

Hermione choked. “What?” Severus instantly ran up before she could reply.

“I have not told her yet. I felt that…she has enough to deal with.”

McGonagall bit her lip, clearly distressed that she had revealed something, for Hermione was now in hysterics. “What happened? Who is it? Please, please, I have to know!”

McGonagall pulled Severus away from her and they exchanged a few very hurried, heated words. She left with one backwards glance at Hermione. Severus shut the door and walked very slowly over to Hermione, whose eyes were wide with anticipation.

“Severus, please tell me what’s happened.”

“I think it would be better if you wait just a little longer. You are unstable, emotionally, and I don’t know how this might affect you.”

“You don’t know a thing about how ‘emotionally unstable’ I might be!”

He decided on his retort more carefully. “No, but McGonagall’s unfortunately correct. I haven’t asked you to recount exactly what happened yet. Maybe….”

He trailed off, thinking. Hermione was in no mood to be patient.

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe…it would be better if you talked about it before I tell you the news. That way…it would be more like a clean slate if you had, well, a breakdown of sorts.” She looked at him like he was crazy. “No, I know much more about the mind than you do. When there’s too much strain on it, too many things to cope with…you lose control.”

His demeanor had completely changed; his hands were in fists and he was not looking at her. He was staring very fixedly at the wall, like he was in another place. Severus shook his head to regain his composure and walked over to Hermione.

“That’s another thing, why did you jump away from me when she walked in?” Hermione was very upset, in more ways than one.

He did not understand her confusion. “Is that even a question? After everything that has happened, how do you think McGonagall would react to seeing that I was being affectionate?” He had the smallest hint of a blush on his cheeks. “No one can know. When you called me by my first name….”

“I know, I know!” Hermione thought he was blaming her. “It was stupid, I’m sorry!”

Severus clearly did not know what to do with an overemotional woman in the vicinity. He was not sure what would upset her further, but tried his best to calm her down.

“Hermione, everything’s going to be fine; you – “

“What do you mean going to be fine? Why does it have to be kept from me?”

Severus held up his hand to silence her. “Listen to me. A trade; you share with me exactly what happened – don’t look at me like that, it will help you – and I will…I will tell you.”

He was waiting for her consent, but Hermione was weighing the options. She didn’t want him to know what happened…she didn’t want to go through it again, but something her mother used to tell her echoed through her head – Don’t bottle it up. It was a mother thing, to impart some kind of wisdom with their daughter, and this was what happened to stick with Hermione. She knew that Severus was right, but she didn’t really want to give him that satisfaction. She reluctantly decided that she wanted to know too badly not to take him up on his offer. Solemnly, she nodded.

Severus knelt down so that their eyes were level, and then dove into her memories. Hermione watched it with him; she was walking down Knocturn Alley, the Death Eaters grabbed her, they were clawing at her, breaking her down, until he arrived. This was when Severus extracted himself from her private thoughts and looked down. Through their connection, Hermione knew how unbelievably sorry he felt; he still thought it was his fault, and now it was worse because he had seen it. Hermione was purposely not crying; it was difficult, but she wanted Severus to feel that she was not upset with him.

“I do feel a little better now,” Hermione encouraged him, sniffling a bit. Truth be told, she didn’t feel much better at all. He looked up and smirked for a second, in disbelief before it faded. “But you promised me something in return.”

He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper Ginny had written on. He folded it up and handed it to Hermione, who took it like a bomb that might blow up.

“Open it, if you want to know now, but you know that I think that it would be best if you waited.” he murmured. The determined look in her eyes showed him that it was a lost cause. It took a little effort for him to say, “I’m very sorry.”

Hermione had a horrible sense of foreboding, for Severus looked very anxious as he watched her slowly unfold the tear-stained paper. With trembling hands, she read what Ginny had scribbled, and understood her frenzy to inform her. The sobs began to come harder than they had all day long.

Hermione read it out loud, between tears.

“R-ron’s dead?!”

*

Finally, this chapter's up! I'm eager to hear what you think of it, for it was very different then the last, so please leave me some feedback here. You won't have to wait nearly as long for the next chapter - it's halfway done. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l