A Walking Shadow

A/N: My usual gratitude to the divine Anastasia, a.k.a. timeturnerforsale, a.k.a. She-Who-Raises-The-Stakes.

A Patronus Can't Lie

"Proceed."

Gripping the wood he still held hidden in his hand, he continued, "Albus Dumbledore's death balanced the death of all living members of two generations of the Riddle family. This is blood magic - old magic, Hermione, more powerful than you dare to imagine." Fearing what he might find, his eyes swept her face, already alight with her desire to know. She reminds... No. His voice deepening with urgency, "It will find you; perhaps sooner than you anticipate. It is not a test you can study for. The magical power of blood ties is a mystery, Hermione, and not in the detective sense. It will never make sense. It is the opposite of sense. It is chaos." He shut his eyes, blocking out a memory. His voice emptier, almost hollow, he finished, "The power that ultimately took Dumbledore's life is the very power that saved Harry Potter."

"I don't understand."

He regarded her intently for several heartbeats. "You will."

She fought the urge to look away.

"When the headmaster destroyed the Horcrux, he guessed what was happening, and came immediately to me. We had little time. We bought a little more." He closed his eyes, remembering.

Unbidden, a small note of triumph sounded in her mind. "You put a stopper in death."

"Temporarily."

"To buy him time to work with Harry."

"Yes."

She drew a breath to speak, but changed her mind. Instead, she stated, "Harry's still not ready."

Eyes narrowing, he nodded.

"And the headmaster's portrait isn't really sleeping," she continued.

He was still, his eyes completely alert.

"And I'm supposed to be listening. I'm sorry." She folded her hands in her lap and tilted her chin toward him, every inch the Head Girl she should have been. Your move, Severus Snape.

He blinked slowly. "We agreed that when the time came I should be the one to release him."

"Kill him, you mean." Ouch. Not well done, Granger.

He regarded her clinically. "We could not prevent his death, Hermione, merely slow its progress. Despite all of our research, our experiments, he was dying, painfully, before our eyes. I said I released him. If you pay attention, you will realize that I always mean what I say."

"Yes, but you rarely say what you mean. If you are trying to tell me that you bear no moral responsibility for the headmaster's death, Severus, I'm afraid we see morality very differently."

He bristled. "I will not debate morality with you. Not on this issue"

Her eyes glittered dangerously.

Her expression unnerved him, but he pressed on. "I released him. From the slow agony of the Horcrux's curse, from certain torture by the Death Eaters or - worse - Greyback, and from watching the hopes he had unwittingly bartered his life for die with him."

"You killed him to protect him, then."

"Of course I did," he hissed. "And to protect young Mr. Malfoy. And your precious Potter."

Her heart grew louder. She did not quite dare ask what it had cost him, but she had to know. She had to at least try. She ventured, "A high price to pay."

"Relatively speaking, no. It scarcely matters." His instincts told him he was being measured, tested...

"It matters to me." Check.

His instincts betrayed him. His hand twitched toward the Phoenix brand, but he realized it was dormant. Hidden in the folds of his cloak, his other hand clenched the jagged chunk of wood, tacky with his drying blood and fresh sweat, forcing slow splinters into his palm.

Careful to keep her face a neutral mask, she thought, Check. Now, easy, Granger. You need your wand back. "And it matters to you. Your list of people you have had to harm to protect is short by at least one name. Yours."

He focused on the splinters. "And?"

"And you do nothing unintentionally. Even your silences have meanings. Painful ones, usually." She smiled, and raised an eyebrow at him.

He found it profoundly disturbing.

Rising, she asked, "Tea? Pretending we're not debating morality is making me terribly thirsty."

He nodded mutely, relaxing his grip on the wood.

At the door, she turned. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Do I remind you of someone?" Checkmate. She left the room.

Severus Snape did not move. He opened his hand slowly, the wood's rough texture raking the splinters in his palm. A small pain makes a good distraction, if the other pain slices too deeply.

After a moment, he let the wood drop into the fire. He heard his blood hiss as it boiled in the flames.

*****

Once in the hallway, she leaned against the wall, trembling. Adrenalin rushing in her ears in a sudden flush of relief - and something infinitely more complicated. Professor Dumbledore had definitely been a genius.

Breathe, Granger. Breathe... Oh, gods.

In branding Severus Snape's heart, Dumbledore had given anyone who paid close enough attention - in other words, her - a tremendous gift: Severus' "tell."

He mistakes his heart working properly as a signal from the brand. And it can only work here, in this house.

Utter genius. Only someone who cared enough to look for it would find it. She hugged this knowledge close to her. She laughed. His hands. She closed her eyes and smiled.

Her laugh brought him out of the library. He stopped, captivated. Emotions and firelight played across her face.

"Is there something amusing you wish to... share?"

She opened her eyes.

"Or perhaps," his voice dropped to an enveloping murmur, "something more serious?"

Neither moved, the only sound the fire in the other room.

Finally, she spoke. "Both, it seems."

He waited.

Her eyes not leaving his, she reached out and ran a finger up his coat buttons. Soft. "Which button first, Severus?" She smiled wistfully. "There are so many. This one?" She slid her finger down a few. "Or... this one?" She glanced up at him.

He was still watching her face.

"Or..." Her finger reached the button at his waist. "This one?"

His eyes dropped to her finger.

They both thought, Please.

As her finger traced the outline of the button, she pressed her other hand gently on his face, lightly brushing it down his neck, smoothing it with firmer pressure down his chest, under his cloak, to his hip.

For one breathless heartbeat, neither moved.

He spoke roughly, "What game are you playing, Hermione?"

She smiled up at him and slowly closed her fingers around her wand, drawing it out of his pocket. "Which one? There are so many."

A low, throaty chuckle. "Forgive me, but -" One hand closed around her wand hand, splinters scratching her skin, digging further into his. "If you turn me in, I will receive the Dementor's Kiss by morning. That is not the only kiss I have dreamed about, Hermione." He gently took her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb along her cheek.

Her breath came faster.

"I won't risk one for the other. No matter how tempting. Give me your wand."

Ignoring the stinging on her hand, nestling her cheek into his palm, she echoed his chuckle. "No."

Interesting. "We are at an impasse, it seems."

"Mm, not quite yet, I think." Her eyes twinkled briefly, then darkened. "Which button first, Severus?" She caressed his name with her voice.

He lowered his eyes, entranced.

She brushed her finger back up to the top button. "This one, I think. Best to start at the beginning." Hesitating only for a moment, she opened the button. "But as we don't have a week..."

His eyes fluttered shut.

She ran her fingers along the line where his white linen shirt met his throat. "...we'll have to hit the high points."

A low moan escaped his lips.

Gently she pressed her small hand around his throat. "I am not nearly strong enough to kill you with my bare hands, I know."

"Yes, Hermione," he said, roughly, "you are." His hand memorized the skin of her neck, brushing her earlobe. He ran his hand under her hair. So warm. He drew her closer.

"I'm not," she said simply. "I don't know how. And I won't know, unless you teach me."

He breathed into her hair.

She caught her breath. If he speaks this close to me, I will die. Just. Die.

"Hermione," he murmured.

Now I believe we are at an impasse. She closed her eyes and concentrated, poured everything she was feeling into her wand.

It glowed blue, and an otter the color of winter starlight shot out of it and bounded up Severus Snape's sleeve to sit on his shoulder.

He suddenly heard her voice in his mind, saying, "You can trust me. You don't have to - it's your choice - but you can."

He drew back, hissing, only to see the otter scamper to Hermione's shoulder to peek at him through her hair.

He reached for his heart, but Hermione curled her hand around his.

"Shhhh. I'm sorry." She spoke softly, but quickly. "You know a Patronus can't lie, Severus." She cocked her head slightly. "Although I do believe you frightened him a little. You sometimes have that effect."

"Your Patronus is an otter?!"

"Then again he might just be playing. It's difficult to tell for sure."

He released her wand hand.

She pocketed her wand, wincing a little when one of the splinters in her palm rubbed against the edge of her pocket. "I'm sorry for that, what I did just now.... If it hurt you. If I hurt you. Your feelings, I mean...

"Hermione."

"I don't know... I'm no good at this, really, and... I was just going on instinct, basing my actions on..." she drew a deep breath, "what your reactions seemed to be. You can trust me. I know that. But to tell you, for you to believe me, I had to hurt you. Risk hurting you, anyway."

"Hermione," he repeated.

"In a way it's a compliment. More than just in a way - I mean - I really do pay attention."

"Hermione!"

"And I had to get my wa-" she faltered.

"A Patronus can't lie."

Her cheeks flushed.

"Your message was that I could trust you, was it not?" He arched his eyebrow.

"But wh- Oh." She blushed furiously. "OH. Then you... you know that it's true, then. What I was doing. Oh. Well." She squared her shoulders. "Yes."

Chuckling, he said, "The best lies are always based in truth."

She blushed harder, but flashed him a challenge. "Well?"

Her Patronus looked at Severus and scampered to the floor.

Strong hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her close. He wrapped her in his cloak, nestling his cheek in her hair. "Brilliant," he murmured, into her ear.

She sighed.

He moved his mouth a little closer to her ear, lowering his voice. "But -" he breathed.

Her hands tightened on his waist.

He inhaled sharply.

She turned her head and brushed her lips softly, swiftly, against his. "Scary?" she asked.

He growled, "Terrifying."

Her Patronus glowed brighter until, finally, the spell faded.