A Certain Amount of Sense

Chapter 7

Hermione’s mind continued to work as she slept. She dreamt of all the different ways she would be expelled. There was the one in which she was summoned to the headmaster’s office. Her parents were already there and crying. Snape had a sneer on his face and Dumbledore was telling her that she would be the first prefect ever to be expelled from Hogwarts. Then there was the one where she woke up in her own bedroom at home, obliviated so that she forgot the magical world even existed.

Most horrifying was the one in which the spectacle that had happened last year as Trelawney was being sacked was reenacted, except that she had taken Trelawney’s place, and Snape had taken Umbridge’s. Instead of moving to comfort her, Professor McGonagall had stood back and looked at her with disappointed eyes. The headmaster had opened the front doors and the crowd of students and teachers, including Hagrid, had closed in on her, chanting, “Off with the Mudblood, off with the Mudblood.”

Hermione shook herself to consciousness. It took her a few moments for the last grips of sleep to leave her. She had watched herself being expelled so many times that it felt as if the deed had already been done. Only it wasn’t. And there was still the chance that any of those horrid dreams would come true.

Well, not if she could help it. She still had her pride and her courage, and if there was any way to be expelled in a dignified manner, she was going to see to it. And there was the faintest glimmer of hope that she could somehow persuade the Potions Master to allow her to stay at the school. But to do so, she needed to speak to him now. She couldn’t bear to wait until the morning, when she might already be too late. She figured if anyone caught her, she could use the excuse that she was going to serve a detention with him. It was true, after all, that he had given her one for tonight, even though she realized it was quite a bit later than the times usually given for detentions, and that in the face of her upcoming expulsion, even Snape had probably forgotten about it.

Resolved, she set out on her way to the dungeons. But not before stopping by the bathroom to brush her teeth first. Ten years and five summers of living with her parents had instilled habits even a threat of expulsion could not break.

***

As soon as he felt firm ground beneath his feet again, Severus collapsed.

“Profess’r Snape!” shouted Hagrid. Fang reached him first. He tried as best he could to fend off the over-friendly licks of the mongrel.

“Urgh. Get him off me, Hagrid.” His voice revealed just how weary he was. There was no trace of the usual contempt or cold calculation. It was just the voice of a very, very tired man.

“Fang! Back, boy. Down boy.” The dog ran back to its master. A few seconds later, Severus felt two large hands grip him and lift him up. It was demeaning but not the first time he had to be carried back to the castle.

“Dun’ know why he still let’s you go to him. Ev’rytime you come back it’s worse ‘en the time before.”

“Do not,” he paused to draw a raspy breath, “speak of the headmaster so, Hagrid.”

“Hmph. Right so.” The half-giant was quiet the rest of the way up to the castle, but both men were thinking the same thing. It was only a matter of time before either Voldemort grew tired of Snape’s limited usefulness and killed him outright or realized that his spy was double-crossing him and kill him with a great deal more pain. And even then, at the rate he was going, Snape wasn’t sure he would survive to see either.

***

“Well, well, what do you have here?” a familiar voiced drawled. Hermione stiffened. Of all the luck. To be caught by Malfoy.

“Did you miss me, Her-mi-o-ne? Come back for some more?” It was the first time he had used her name, and he dragged it out in the saying, trying to make it sound like the possessive caress of a lover. He approached her from the rear, whispering into her right ear—the same position they had been in right before she had dropped the Natrium.

Except Hermione was better prepared to fend him off this time. She drew her right arm forward and jammed it back as hard as she could, elbowing Malfoy right in the stomach. As he staggered backwards from the blow, she spun around and leveled her wand at him face. Surprise was clearly evident in his eyes.

“I’m going to give you a choice, Malfoy. You can show me the way to Snape’s private quarters, or, “ she dropped the wand to his crotch, “I can hex you so that your privates are quartered.”

He glared at her hatefully but knew he had no choice. Years of living with his father’s abuse had taught him to know when to surrender. With a snarl, he turned around and started walking.

“This way.” Hermione had to run every few steps to keep up. She resisted telling him to slow down; she didn’t want to push her luck any further tonight. When they rounded the last corner, they were presented with a rather unexpected tableau before them.

Hagrid was supporting Professor Snape as he was unlocking the wards to his door with Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey behind them. All four looked their way when they heard the two gasps of surprise.

“What…is she….” asked Snape, his voice barely audible.

Before anyone could answer, Hagrid released his hold on Snape, who promptly fell into a pile on the dungeon floor.

“Oh dear,” said Dumbledore.

***

Ten minutes later, they were all ensconced within Professor Snape’s living quarters. The owner of the premises was currently lying on his bed and being attended to by Madam Pomfrey, with the assistance of Hagrid. Draco had been obliviated and stunned and was lying stiffly on one of the sofas in the study. Dumbledore himself was sitting behind Snape’s desk, and Hermione was sitting across from him.

“Tea?” Hermione shook her head; she was still shaken and too bewildered by what she had just seen.

“Hot chocolate then,” said Professor Dumbledore, and with a snap of his fingers a house elf appeared.

“Two hot chocolates if you would, Bompwee.”

“Oh yes, headmaster, right away, headmaster.” He popped out and reappeared a few seconds later with two steaming cups of hot chocolate on a tray, which he promptly set on the desk.

“That will be all, Bompwee.” Before the house elf disappeared again, he gave Hermione a strange look, but it was lost on her. “You should try some, Miss Granger, it’s my own personal recipe,” said Dumbledore before he tipped his own mug. Obediently, Hermione reached for her cup and tried a sip. It was good, albeit a little sweet for her tastes. As the hot liquid ran down her throat, she realized just how hungry she was, given that she had skipped dinner.

“Now, Miss Granger. We seem to find ourselves in a bit of a predicament.” Hermione tensed in anticipation. She was sure his next words would be concerning her actions earlier in the day and their consequences.

“What am I supposed to think, when I see future Head Girl of Hogwarts sneaking around the dungeons with another prefect after curfew?”

“Sir?” This was definitely not what she had expected to hear.

“It’s happened before, of course. I remember all too clearly the number of times I found Mister Weasley with Miss Clearwater….”

“Sir, it’s not what you think!” Clear blue eyes looked levelly at brown ones.

“In that case, Miss Granger, perhaps you would care to enlighten me as to what you and Mister Malfoy were doing in front of Professor Snape’s doors at this time of night?” Hermione knew at once that she had been trapped. But his words also meant that perhaps Professor Snape hadn’t yet told him of what had happened. A little seed of hope started to grow within her.

“I needed to speak to with Professor Snape, sir. And Malfoy was just showing me the way.” There was silence as Dumbledore waited for Hermione to continue. When it was clear that she was finished, he raised an eyebrow before he continued

“I see. And may I ask why you deemed it necessary to speak to Professor Snape at this time of night?”

“I…I’d rather not say, sir. It’s a matter between him and I. A…personal matter.”

“Miss Granger, I realize that in the past, I have been lenient with you and Harry in regards to certain indiscretions. I fear that it may have been another mistake on my part.” Dumbledore suddenly looked much older. “Tonight, you have been witness to something I truly wish you did not have to see. Which is to say, if I so desired, I could have you obliviated as I did with Mister Malfoy here.” Hermione started. Certainly he didn’t mean….

“However, I would also like to believe that I can trust you, Miss Granger, to keep your own counsel regarding tonight’s proceedings.”

“Even from Harry, sir?”

“Yes, even from Harry. I fear that he has enough burdens to deal with as it is.” Dumbledore’s eyes filled with sadness. “I have long wondered why it has been necessary to fight this war with children,” he said, almost to himself. He then paused, as if deliberating whether or not to continue. “At the end of last year, I revealed something to Harry, something I should not have kept from him for so long. I believe that if he had known this piece of information, some of the events which transpired that night in the Department of Mysteries could have been avoided. It is only because I fear a repeat of that mistake that I am allowing you the privilege, or should I say, the responsibility of staying here to hear what will be said. And who knows, my dear girl, perhaps we will one day see that there was a reason for your presence here tonight.

“About Professor Snape, sir….” Dumbledore’s eyes chose that moment to glance behind her.

“Ah, yes. Severus, please join us. We were just discussing you.” He indicated to the seat next to Hermione. She thought it was peculiar that he did not offer Snape his own chair since it was the professor’s study they were in and his desk that he was sitting behind. In fact, she almost expected Professor Snape to make mention of it but was made aware of just how worn out the Potions Master was when he did not hesitate to sit in the seat proffered.

“Poppy, Rubeus. Thank you for all your help tonight.”

“Yes, headmaster,” said Madam Pomfrey, who recognized a dismissal when she heard it and left the room. Hagrid continued to stay, clearly not wanting to leave while Hermione was still here. Dumbledore cleared his throat and stood up.

“Hagrid, perhaps you could help me with the little matter of returning Mister Malfoy to his rooms?”

“Of course, sir. And afterwards, will yeh be wantin’ me to escort Hermione back to her rooms?”

“I believe Miss Granger will be able to return to her chambers unassisted.” Hermione turned around in her chair.

“It’s okay, Hagrid. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be all right.” He grunted an assent and left, closing the door behind him.

During the time it took for Dumbledore to sit back down, Hermione dared a glance at her professor. He was, if possible, paler than usual. There was a gaunt look about him, and for the first time, Hermione realized how much thinner he was now compared to when she had first met him. It was a little disturbing to see one of the icons in her life, unlikable as he was, suddenly looking so weak. Before she could avert her eyes, his locked onto hers. Whatever else she had expected, it was not the wounded look he gave her. As if he knew he had disappointed her somehow, or as if he was scared. Of her. What was going on? Before she could continue her thoughts, Dumbledore spoke.

“Severus, I want you to know that I trust Miss Granger here with all the information we will be discussing. There is no need to hold back anything. Do you understand?” Snape’s eyes flickered from the headmaster’s to hers and back before he nodded. “Good. Now what is it Tom wanted of you?”

“He wanted to know….” Snape continued, but Hermione heard none of it. She was too busy putting together the pieces of the puzzle. By “Tom” surely he didn’t mean Tom Riddle. Did this mean Professor Snape was still an active Death Eater? But he was obviously playing for Dumbledore’s side, which meant…which meant Professor Snape was working as a double agent! Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped and looked at the man beside her with new eyes. He glanced at her quickly as he finished his report, apparently annoyed that she had interrupted his debriefing. “…to make another potion for him, more potent than the last.”

“I see.” Dumbledore had set his elbows on the desk and folded his hands in front of his mouth. He digested the information a moment before he asked, “And did he….”

“Yes,” said Snape quickly, as if to head off the rest of the headmaster’s question, “he did.” His eyes dropped to his lap, and Hermione thought that he was purposely avoiding her eyes. She gave up and looked at Dumbledore but all she was there was a look of pity for Snape.

“Severus, you know I would not ask you to continue….”

“I know, headmaster. But you know as well as I do how important it is that we have inside knowledge of Voldemort’s plans. God only knows how many spies he has planted here in Hogwarts.” Hermione wondered who he could mean, then realized that as the Head of the House of Slytherin, he was probably dealing with them each and every day.

“Yes, and your help is greatly appreciated, my friend.” At this, Professor Snape looked up, but instead of looking grateful, Hermione saw the glint of irony. How very curious…. Once again, Dumbledore interrupted her train of thought.

“And now, Hermione, I believe it is time you had your word with Professor Snape. As it is much past the proper bedtime for an old coot such as I, I will leave the two of you alone. Good night.”