Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

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Part Three: The Perception of Truths and Lies

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The house that had seemed so quiet and sinister the year after Sirius' death was now full of life, and Hermione couldn't help but be appreciative of the fact that Sirius' family portraits now hung in a room on the first floor, leaving the wall free for the old photographs Harry had found of his parents and their friends. She knew that Remus found it difficult to be in the house after Sirius' death and he found it even harder to see the photographs of them all smiling and laughing so many years ago, when Sirius and Harry's parents had been alive. The presence of Peter in so many photographs was difficult for them all to stomach, but it hurt Remus so much more.

She knew Remus blamed himself for the fact that he was the only Marauder left alive; he even blamed himself for Peter's death the year before. Wormtail had finally repaid his life debt to Harry by saving the boy from Voldemort in their worst encounter to date. Hermione, Ron, and Remus had watched as Wormtail threw himself in front of the Killing Curse, saving Harry's life. He had had no dying words, had said nothing of remorse, but the look in his eyes had been enough to convince even Harry and Remus that the man regretted so many of his decisions.

She had once overheard Linda and Remus talking about his life, from werewolf to Hogwarts, from Hogwarts to his time alone, and through their third year until the present. She wasn't sure how long she had sat on the stairs, listening to what was definitely a private conversation, but Hermione was nothing if not curious. She had listened as Linda tried to convince him that nothing was his fault, despite the fact that the woman had not known Remus was a werewolf until the previous week, and had known nothing more than what Remus had told her. Hermione had not felt it was her place to tell her aunt of everything she knew simply because she wasn't sure how Linda would feel about it all.

To her credit, Hermione's aunt had handled everything well, although Hermione was sure that the alcohol they had spent the evening consuming had helped with Linda's acceptance of the situation. She had felt awful for listening, but she was glad that she had. She also should have realised sooner that Remus' extremely sensitive sense of smell had alerted him to her presence. She had been closer to Remus since then, but that had only highlighted the fact that she wasn't being honest with him. Hermione had lost count of the amount of times she had almost told him why she was studying so hard.

That thought reminded her of the reason she was at Grimmauld Place. She was there to explain things to her friends. She glanced again at the walls, noting that there were even a few photographs of the three of them, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, throughout their years at Hogwarts. Some of the later ones also included Ginny, as their friendship grew to include four.

It was strange to see their youthful faces ageing so suddenly from their fourth to fifth year, and then again from their fifth to sixth, but the fact remained that their lives had been filled with darkness and death. Whilst Hermione knew that that was a rather morose outlook on a life she wouldn't change for anything, she also knew it to be true. Their friendship had lasted through six years of a war which had centred around them. Admittedly, more so around Harry than Ron or herself, but they were Harry's best friends and would never have left him to face it alone, at least not through choice.

Not that I even have a choice now, she thought, a little scared to admit that she was terrified, even to herself. I have no choice at all. I have to help balance things with powers I don't even have yet.

Hermione took a few calming breaths as she followed Harry and Ron up the stairs to Harry's bedroom, hoping that she didn't look as nervous as she felt. Ginny had caught up with them and was walking beside Hermione, their arms linked as the redhead chatted aimlessly about Hermione's new look. They reached the end of the corridor all too quickly and Hermione soon found herself sitting on Harry's bed with her three best friends.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Hermione," Ginny said, throwing her arms around Hermione again. "I can't believe how little you've kept in touch this summer. Tell me you haven't been killing yourself studying again."eHeHHHHhhdjkfhsdjfhkmsdk

"I'm afraid so," Hermione said, bracing herself for the inevitable moment where she had to actually tell her friends what she had been doing. There was a flurry of movement and she suddenly found herself blinded by a ginger ball of fur.

"Crookshanks!" She squeezed her cat tightly, to the point where she was almost scratched, before letting him settle on her lap where she could scratch behind his ears. "I missed you."

"He missed you too," Ron said darkly. "Bloody cat was scratching and biting us for weeks. Still don't see why you needed him out of your way. You must have done enough studying last year to pass this year's exams as well."

Hermione felt all the blood rush from her face as she kept her gaze on Crookshanks. She still had no idea how to go about telling her friends what she needed to.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

She glanced at Harry, a little shocked at his perceptiveness. She knew that Ron needed to be hit over the head with something before he saw it properly, but if she had expected anyone to sense there was something wrong, she would have guessed Ginny before she even thought of Harry.

"I have something to tell you all, and I need you to listen to me until I'm finished."

The room went silent, and the smiles she had been receiving since her arrival faded. She took a deep breath and watched as her friends exchanged glances. She needed them to understand. She couldn't do it without their support.

"Okay, Hermione," Ginny said, speaking for them all. "Just tell us, we promise not to interrupt." Her last comment was aimed at Ron, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. She heard Harry sniggering and she grinned at him.

"Okay," she said, trying to figure out the best place to start. "You remember last year? I know, obviously you do, silly question." She took another deep breath. "Well, what you don't know is what I was studying for." She took a moment to assess their confusion before continuing, "Professor Dumbledore approached me right after...well, after the attack on my parents. He made me the offer of finishing school early. Please, Ron, don't interrupt me."

She had spotted her redheaded friend preparing to speak, and had pre-empted his interruption. "Please, I can't get this out if you start firing questions at me, and you need to know the whole story." Ron nodded and she let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore thought that I might appreciate a way to focus my loss. He knew I'd throw myself into my work anyway, and he decided to let me gain something more from it. So, he asked me to sit my sixth and seventh year exams within the same year. If you remember I was really stressed before Christmas, well, that's because I was sitting my sixth year exams."

"That's why you were absent a lot," Ginny said with a frown.

"Yes," Hermione said with a nod. "And I sat my seventh year exams when you all had your sixth year ones."

"That's why you said your exams clashed, isn't it?" Harry asked and she nodded.

Hermione had been required to sit her seventh year exams with the seventh year students. Due to the fact that no one was aware of her sitting the same exams, they had explained her presence through exam clashes. Hermione had taken more subjects than everyone else in the sixth year and it would not have been possible to sit the correct exams at the correct time anyway. Therefore she had been isolated from the school and allowed only to attend her exams and any revision classes had she wished to. The isolation had also given her time and excuse to study more towards her teaching exams.

Well, one bit down, another to go, she thought, feeling slightly more confident than she had been.

"Wait a minute," Ron asked, and Hermione didn't like the look in his eyes. "If you've already sat your seventh year, does that mean you won't be at Hogwarts this year?" Harry suddenly realised the truth to Ron's question and his eyes widened as they turned to her, awaiting a reply. Ginny did not seem surprised at all, instead she seemed to be thinking hard about what Hermione was saying.

"I'll be there," Hermione said quietly.

"But how?" Harry asked.

"Because I wasn't just sitting my sixth and seventh year exams this past year. I was sitting my teaching exams as well." Hermione waited a moment until they seemed to understand. "I'm a Professor."

"But, I don't understand," Ginny said, almost pleading with her. "How can you be a teacher and have sat your sixth and seventh year all in one year? There just isn't the..."

"You used a Time-Turner."

She turned to Harry and nodded her head, not quite trusting herself to speak. She remained silent, allowing her friends some time to adjust to the situation, and silently prayed that they would understand.

"Wow." Harry laughed a little. "I always knew you were brainy, but that's taking it a little too far, don't you think?"

His statement seemed to break the ice and Hermione felt herself laughing with him. She shrugged her shoulders a little and smiled at him. He would be there for her and he'd stand by her; she knew it was all right. She glanced at Ginny. The girl still seemed to be adding everything up in her head, but flashed Hermione a quick smile and she knew that Ginny would be there for her as well, which left only Ron.

She glanced at him. He was still staring at her, but rather than the wide-eyed expression he had had moments before, his face was blank, and his jaw was set. There was nothing in his expression to give away what he was thinking, and Hermione felt as if she were on trial and Ron was the Judge and Jury.

"It's going to be like it is with Charlie, isn't it?"

"It has to be, Ron." Hermione glanced at Harry and Ginny and saw that they had already reached that conclusion. "I can't be seen to be biased, and I can't do anything that would jeopardise my position." She sighed. "If it's any consolation, Ginny's the only one of you that will be in my class."

"Arithmancy?" Ginny squealed.

"Yes."

"Fantastic! You always explained things better than Professor Vector." Ginny frowned. Almost as an after thought she asked, "What happened to him?"

"He's a Death Eater."

Hermione turned to Harry, a little shocked. She hadn't been aware that Harry had been privy to the information, but she supposed she should have known. Since the disaster that was their fifth year, Dumbledore had made a point of including Harry in almost everything, with the understanding that Harry keep certain things to himself. That included not letting either her or Ron know anything. She surmised that Vector's allegiance was one of those things.

"Did you know about this?" Ron accused.

"No, but I think even Dumbledore supposed I would have figured it out. And I guess I would have if I hadn't been so wrapped up in myself last year." He continued before anyone could interrupt. "It's true and you all know it. He even told me there was someone in training, someone I could trust my life with. I guess if he'd said it was someone I already did trust my life with, I might have figured it out."

"So both of you have been lying to me for years?"

"Ron, it's not like that," Hermione said, feeling as though the conversation was slipping away from her.

"Isn't it?" Ron's face was almost as red as his hair, and Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so angry before. He stood up and took a few steps away from the bed. "You both seem to forget that I'm a part of this friendship as well. I might not be the one with all the brains and I might not be the Hero of the Wizarding World, but I'm not just some tagalong that you can include only when you feel the need to."

"Ron, please, we-"

The door slammed shut and Hermione felt tears welling up. She had known Ron would take it the worst of all, but she hadn't realised he would feel as betrayed as he clearly did. Ginny excused herself and went in search of her brother, and Hermione was left alone with Harry.

"I really messed up this time, didn't I?"

"Hermione, this is not your fault. This had to be kept a secret. You know that. If anyone had known, then Voldemort would have found out, and he would have known that Vector's secret was out. No one could have known too soon, or your life would have been in danger."

"Then why do I feel so rotten, Harry?" She blinked back tears as he shifted to sit next to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Nothing's working out the way it was meant to. Half the Professors aren't on my side. The only ones that are seem to be are Minerva, Seriya, and Filius. Irma's okay with it as well, but I spent so much time in the library last year that that isn't a surprise. Even Snape is being nicer than the rest."

"Thank God you said 'Snape' there." Hermione looked up at him with a frown and he chuckled. "I was getting queasy with you calling my teachers by their first names, but if you'd called Snape 'Severus', I might have had to kill myself."

Hermione laughed and snuggled into his shoulder. "No, don't worry. Actually, wait a minute, I did call him 'Severus' yesterday."

"You're joking, right?"

She laughed. "No. But he called me 'girl' and I simply wanted to remind him that I was a woman."

"I think those robes and that fancy new hairdo of yours would have been reminder enough. You look fantastic."

She blushed and glanced up at him. "Thank you."

He tugged at her hair and shook his head. "I like it this length. Or should I say lengths, since there appears to be more than one? It's really short, isn't it?"

"They're called layers, Harry, and the shortest still goes to the bottom of my chin. I don't think I could cope with really short hair. Shoulder length is definitely short enough."

"So, I take it the new look is because of the teaching."

"Yeah, I didn't want to be the bushy-haired know-it-all anymore. I'm a teacher now, I needed a new look."

Harry snickered and she threw him a questioning look. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I was just trying to picture the look on Snape's face when he realised you were a Professor."

"He hit himself in the face with a door."

Harry almost fell off the bed laughing and, when he had calmed down, Hermione relayed the initial meeting with Dumbledore, through to Snape's rather amusing entrance and the conversation she had overheard that morning. He had been angry about the teachers' reaction to her, but after relaying Filius' words, he calmed somewhat. It wasn't until he wiped her cheeks that she realised she had been crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to stop her tears from falling. But it seemed the more she tried to stop, the harder she cried. "Everything's different, Harry, and I can't seem to stop things from changing."

"You shouldn't try, Mia."

She laughed a little at his mischievous grin and swatted his arm. Truthfully, she didn't mind it when he called her that; it had been her aunt's pet name for her since she was little, and the minute Harry had heard Linda use it, he had started to do the same. He was the only one who had did so, and she quite liked that. He was her best friend, even more so since her romance with Ron had failed so miserably. She had always vowed never to choose a favourite between her best friends, but Harry simply understood her so much better than Ron did, and besides, since Ginny had become a part of the group, the siblings had reinforced the bond they had had as children. Ginny and Ron were so close that Hermione often thought they could be twins, and she was glad that Ginny had had nothing to do with the secrets she and Harry had been keeping for the last two years, because Ron would need Ginny, now more than ever.

"I just feel so lonely, Harry," she said, allowing him to bundle her up in his arms. "I'm going to be completely separated from you all this year, and there won't be any way I can change that."

"I will always be here for you, Hermione, always. I don't care if you're a teacher or not, you're my best friend and nothing in the whole world can change that."

"I wouldn't be so sure. There's more I haven't told you."

"It's okay, I know."

She looked up at him and frowned, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "What do you mean?"

"When Dumbledore told me about Vector and the new Professor they were training, he told me about everything, Hermione. I just wasn't smart enough to piece it all together." He tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled sadly. "You're Hermanté, aren't you?" Hermione didn't even try to speak, she just nodded and allowed herself to be gathered into his arms again as she began to cry out all her frustrations and worries.

~x~x~x~x~x~

Hermione felt a hand on her shoulders and it was not until she blinked a few times that she realised that she had been sleeping. She mumbled slightly and felt herself shaking. It took a moment to realise that she was lying on Harry's chest and that it was the fact that he was laughing that was causing her to shake. She growled at him and felt him kiss the top of her head.

"Sorry, Mia," he said with a yawn, "but you have a visitor."

She turned around, rubbing her eyes as she faced the doorway. She smiled when she saw who was crouching by the bed, but she soon found herself frowning. "Remus, you look awful!"

"That's what I said," Harry mumbled as Remus chuckled.

"And to think," the elder man said, smiling a little, "I was about to tell you that you looked marvellous. Bed hair aside, of course," he finished with a wink.

"Thank you." Hermione sat up, allowing Harry to crack his neck. He had fallen asleep in a rather painful position. "But really, Remus, what's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong."

Hermione could see the pain in his eyes, and she couldn't help herself. She reached out and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, which he readily accepted and returned.

Remus chuckled again and pulled back, drawing himself up to sit on the bed by her legs. She scooted over a little, nudging Harry as well, in order to make room for him. She smiled and tried not to look too worried about the man, but she could not believe how ill he looked.

"It's not as bad as all that," Remus said with a smile, almost as if he were reading her thoughts. "I'm a little tired and I think I may be coming down with the werewolf flu. It'll pass."

"The werewolf flu?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raising and his mouth curling into a smile.

Hermione let out a snigger and soon the three of them were laughing. Hermione shook her head and swatted Harry's arm. She looked at Remus seriously once more.

"Remus, I want you to promise me you'll get some rest."

"Yes, mother."

Harry chuckled but his eyes were serious. "You know she's right, Remus."

"Isn't she always?" the werewolf answered, a twinkle in his eyes. "She is, after all, the youngest Hogwarts professor in history, you know."

"Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you!" Hermione felt glad to be finally be able to talk about it, but she felt as though she had betrayed so many people that she wasn't sure it was worth it.

"It's all right, Hermione. Linda and I had it pretty much worked out after the first two weeks of the summer. When you finally told her, she decided she should tell her partner in crime."

"What?"

Remus laughed. "You may have been able to fool this sod, but I'd like to think I'm rather more intelligent and - ouch!"

"You may look like hell," Harry said, narrowing his eyes with a smile, "but that doesn't mean I'll let you insult me."

"Men." Hermione rolled her eyes. Both Remus and Harry looked ready to protest, but a knock at the door cut them off before they had the chance to begin. "Come in."

The door opened and Hermione nodded to Professor Snape as he entered slightly. He clearly had no wish to step any further into Harry's bedroom than was absolutely necessary, and Hermione could understand that. The hatred between the two may have lessened to allow respect, but there was no love lost between the men.

"If you are ready, Professor Granger, we will be returning to Hogwarts shortly."

Hermione nodded and slid her legs off the side of the bed. "Thank you, Professor, I'll be down in a moment."

Snape nodded and closed the door behind him. Hermione was sure she could hear Ginny's voice in the corridor, but Harry was demanding her attention.

"Are you busy for the rest of the holidays, Mia?"

"Well, I still have to look through the student records and..." Hermione trailed off and began to laugh at the look on Harry's face. "Don't worry, you aren't one of my students, Harry, I won't need to look at yours." His face flooded with relief and Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if I don't already know what most of your work would be like, anyway."

"You never know. I could be a genius."

Remus laughed loudly and, for a moment, Harry looked insulted. Remus shook his head and looked at Harry a little wistfully. "James used that one on Lily all the time, Harry. It never works. She'll see through it in a heartbeat."

Harry looked torn between being proud that he was like his father and upset at the thought that he would have liked to have known the man. Hermione pulled him into an impulsive hug, shocking him into laughter.

"I have to go," she said, squeezing tighter.

"I know." Harry kissed her on the forehead and released her. He winked at her. "I'll send Hedwig with a note to meet up sometime before school starts. Just the two of us."

"I'd like that. Besides," she said, her smile fading, "I don't think you could persuade Ron to come no matter what."

"He'll come round, Hermione."

"Eventually," they finished together.

"I'll walk you downstairs," Remus said, standing and offering Hermione a hand. He pulled her to her feet and together, the three of them left the room. They met Dumbledore and Snape at the bottom of the stairs and, after a quick goodbye to everyone (apart from Ron who was still in his room), they left the house and Apparated to Hogwarts.

During the walk back to the school, Hermione noticed that Snape seemed to be thinking deeply about something and she had to wonder what the Order had been discussing that would make him so on edge. He had seemed to know what was going to be discussed before they left, but something had served to unnerve the man. In fact, if he were anyone else, Hermione felt sure that he would have been fidgeting.

They reached the gates quickly and, while Dumbledore made his way in search of Professor McGonagall, Hermione and Professor Snape continued towards the dungeons. She could not stop herself from glancing at the Potions Master from the corner of her eyes and, just as they were approaching her rooms, she was startled to find him staring back at her.

"If you have something to say, Professor Granger, then say it and desist staring at me."

"Is something wrong, Professor?"

"You mean aside from your constant scrutiny?"

Hermione smirked. "Yes, aside from that."

Snape stopped walking and looked at her calculatingly. He seemed to be debating whether or not to ask her something and Hermione was rather shocked. If there was one thing she knew about Snape, it was that he seemed to trust no one, and if he were considering telling, or asking, her something, the chances were that it was serious.

She desperately wanted to say something, to urge him to speak, but she had the feeling that it would have the opposite effect, so she held her tongue. After what seemed like a long time, Snape finally reached his decision and Hermione tried not to seem too annoyed when it looked as though he was planning to tell her absolutely nothing.

"There is nothing I wish to discuss. Good evening, Miss Granger."

"That's Professor Granger, as we have already discussed, Severus."

Snape whirled around and glared at her. The look she was receiving, added to the fact that he had stepped closer and was looming over her, should have been enough to keep her quiet. However, something refused to let her back down. There was something inside of her that simply would not let this man, any man, speak down to her.

"You clearly had something to ask me, Professor, and if it is something I can help you with, then surely it would be prudent to do so."

"Oh, for goodness' sakes, woman, hold your tongue."

Snape stepped away from her, confusion evident on his face. She didn't know why she was smiling, he had insulted her after all, but he had called her 'woman', which was a far cry from 'child'.

"So long as we're clear on that fact, Professor Snape, I won't detain you any longer." She turned on her heel and walked to the wall that opened to her rooms. She muttered the password and turned back to him once more. He was still gazing at her, although his shell-shocked look had faded somewhat. "And if you change your mind about asking that question, Professor, you know where to find me." She smirked once more and entered her rooms, the wall closing up behind her. She stood with her back against it for a few moments as the feeling of power lessened. She replayed the conversation over in her head and closed her eyes.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered to the empty room. "What have I gone and done?"

After a few moments of cringing by her doorway, part of her still waiting for Snape to return to his senses, enter her room and hex her, Hermione walked towards the fireplace, waving her hand to light the fire, and sat in her new favourite chair. She curled her legs under her and smiled as Crookshanks jumped onto her lap. Harry had sent the cat through the flu with a note attached that read, 'Some lazy git forgot me'.

"Hey there," she murmured, scratching behind his ears. "Seems as though this Hermanté thing may prove to be more hassle than it's worth," she said with a sigh. "I don't get it, Crookshanks, I don't really feel anything like I think I'm meant to. From what I've read so far, the powers should be substantial and I doubt standing up to Professor Snape, no matter how scary he can be, counts."

She sighed again and nudged the cat from her lap, standing and heading to her desk. She sat down in the comfortable desk chair and picked up the book Snape had given her. She was preparing to open it when there was a tapping at her window. She glanced up to see Hedwig tapping her beak against the window frame and quickly moved to let her in.

"Thank you," she said as she removed the letter. She held her arm out for Hedwig and, when the bird was resting on it, took her further into the room. She walked to the fireplace and allowed Hedwig to fly onto the perch she had set up for Snowshine. The owl settled beside Hermione's own and quickly helped itself to food and water as Hermione moved back to her desk and opened her letter.

Hey Mia,

I know you probably weren't expecting this so soon, but I have got to get out of this house! I've been cooped up all summer and the thought of escape is just too good to pass up. No one seems all that keen to let me out, but I've threatened hexing them so much that I think they're beginning to believe me.

In a compromise, and because I would prefer it, I've agreed that we should meet in Hogsmeade instead of Diagon Alley. Mrs Weasley was happier with the thought that I'd be near Hogwarts and Dumbledore, plus it means that you don't have to go anywhere too far.

If you can make it, why don't we meet at the Three Broomsticks around 11 o'clock? Send Hedwig back with your answer. Make sure it's yes, please. Your best friend's sanity and the lives of those around him hang in the balance. Not that I'm trying to blackmail you or anything.

Love,

Harry

Hermione laughed and placed the letter on the desk. She picked up her quill and ink and pulled a fresh piece of parchment from the drawer. She glanced at Hedwig and noticed that the bird seemed rather comfortable by the fire. In fact, the owl was almost asleep. She shook her head and turned back to the desk.

Dear Harry,

As an activist for the protection of animals, I feel it is my duty to admonish you for your cruel treatment of a certain snowy white owl that is currently sleeping by my fireplace. However, I would be willing to overlook your transgression should you, in future, provide more suitable working hours for said owl.

Due to your overwork of this owl, I feel it is my duty to personally return her to you and will, therefore, forgo my hectic day of washing my hair and see you at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning at the suggested establishment. By such time I expect you to have found a stronger grasp on whatever sanity you possess, of which, I would like to point out, I have seen little evidence. However, I want you to realise that the state of my hair is a sacrifice I do not make lightly, but am willing to make for the future of Owl Rights.

Until tomorrow, Mister Potter.

Love,

Hermione.

P.S. Try not to hex anyone, Harry. I expect you to be awake in the morning and hexing can take up a lot of energy. There are nine Weasleys, remember.

Hermione chuckled and turned to look at Hedwig once more. "Why don't you stay here and rest, Hedwig? We'll let my fat old owl get some exercise." Hedwig seemed to agree, although Hermione had to apologise profusely to Snowshine before the owl would agree to take the letter.

After attaching her letter to her owl, she walked back to the window, shivering slightly at the night breeze. Snowshine flew out into the darkness and Hermione watched her for a few moments. She finally reached out to close the window and turned back around, instantly grabbing her head as a dizzy spell hit her.

Her hearing became muffled and her vision began to waver slightly, as if she were looking at it through a layer of waving water. She still had a hand on the windowsill and used it to lower herself to the floor. She felt a wave of power wash over her, something almost tangible, but a few moments later it was gone. She blinked a few times and grimaced as her ears popped and her vision returned to normal.

Hermione knew she should likely head to the Hospital Wing, but, after glancing at her clock, she decided it was too late to bother anyone over a dizzy spell. She stood up cautiously and pulled out her wand, taking a deep breath before casting a few spells on herself. There were no worrying results. In fact, Hermione was in perfect health. Any insecurities she may have felt about her decision not to see Madame Pomfrey were satisfied and she instead headed into her bedroom to retire for the night.

~x~x~x~x~x~

Hermione yawned as she pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks. She glanced behind her to see that Hedwig had come to rest on the roof of Zonkos, beside another white owl she recognised. She smiled and entered the pub, instantly spotting a sleepy looking Harry at a table in the back. She shook her head and walked towards him. He had yet to notice her and his head was lolling gently against his chest.

"Mister Potter!"

Harry jumped awake and sat up straight, momentarily disoriented. Hermione watched as he realised where he was and spotted her grinning at him. He glared at her, but the effect was ruined by the pout on his lips.

"That was mean."

"That was funny," Hermione said with a laugh as she sat down opposite him. "There are few times I wish that Colin was around with his camera, but this is definitely one of them."

"You're nasty."

"And you're adorable when you're sleepy."

Harry rolled his eyes but soon found himself yawning. He leaned back again and smiled at her. "So, am I going to be arrested for owl abuse?"

"I'm still considering it." Hermione smiled. "I'll see what Snowshine says about how you treated her and we'll see."

Harry raised his hands in defence. "Okay, that owl was annoyed long before it got near me." She had the grace to blush and Harry sat forward. "Hah! Seems we're partners in crime."

"Okay, you got me."

They ordered lunch and spent the rest of the morning catching up. Whilst they had seen each other during the previous school year, they had had so many secrets, and Hermione had had so much studying, that they had a lot more than the summer to relay to each other. They left the pub in the early afternoon and spent more time perusing the shops and, eventually, went for a walk, reminiscing about their past.

"I'll never forget the look on Malfoy's face when he saw my head floating in mid air," Harry said with a laugh. "At the time I was terrified that I'd been caught, but it was really funny."

Hermione smiled, but their talk of the past had simply reminded her of a constant presence that was noticeably absent. "How's Ron?"

Harry sighed. "He's...Ron." He kicked a stone out of the way and reached out for her, wrapping an arm around her as they made their way back into the village. "He's being stubborn. Ginny seems to think that he'll come around soon, and I hope he does. Ron's not used to being on his own and Ginny won't choose sides, even if he is her brother. Last time we fell out, Ron had you. That made a difference. Hopefully he'll realise that he wants both of us around."

"What if he doesn't, Harry?"

Harry looked at her and smiled. "He will, Mia. After all, who wouldn't want us around?"

Hermione laughed and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug. They had reached the village and Hermione noticed that she was receiving a few glares from some of the younger witches. She smiled to herself and heard Harry chuckling.

"You know things would be so much easier if we were in love," he said, looking down at her. "Maybe then I wouldn't have to explain to every girl I meet that I'm single."

"Every girl you meet?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Okay, so only some of them. There are a few that I'm perfectly happy to let think we're shagging."

"Harry Potter, watch your language!" Hermione swatted him as he laughed. She shook her head indulgently. "Why do you think we never did fall in love, Harry?" she asked, looking up at him. There was no denying that Harry Potter was gorgeous and that Hermione loved him with all her heart went without saying, but there was nothing between them. It wasn't the first time that Hermione had wondered why.

"Are you joking, Mia? I love you, but I'd be dead within a week!" Harry laughed at her confusion. "Every time I put myself in harms way and survive, I come back to you and worry that I'm going to die anyway. The look in your eye is one step short of being an Avada Kedavra! Could you imagine how much worse that would be if we were dating?"

Hermione laughed. "I guess you're right."

"We're just not compatible, I guess." Harry frowned. "No, it's not even that. We are compatible. I'd even go so far as to say we're soul mates. I'm just not in love with you."

Hermione smiled. "Soul mates?" Harry nodded and she hugged him tighter. "Yes, I guess we are." She held him for a moment longer before pulling back. "I really should get back to the castle. I want to get started on those student files."

Harry nodded and kissed her forehead as he always did, before pulling completely out of her embrace. "I'll walk you back."

"It's all right," Hermione said with a grin. "I think I can manage. You get back to your prison and try not to hex any redheads."

"I'll try," Harry said with a laugh. He winked at her and turned away, heading back to the Three Broomsticks to use the Floo. They had sent the owls off before starting their walk, so Harry did not have to worry about Hedwig. "Oh, and, Mia," he said turning round. "Try not to get yourself hexed by Snape before we get back."

Hermione laughed and waved him off before turning around and heading back to Hogwarts. She arrived back in time for dinner, and ate quickly before showering and settling herself down in her chair to tackle her students' files.

She started with the third years, knowing that they would be the most difficult to gauge. Because the third years had never taken Arithmancy before, they had Predicted Files. Each of their files from their other classes were cast in a spell that produced a separate file, predicting what the student would be capable of in the subject, based on their other work. In theory, Hermione thought it was a good idea, but in practice, she didn't see how it could possibly be accurate.

Hermione knew, from her own time in classes, that each student reacted differently to the various methods of teaching. Whilst a student may have the capacity to understand a subject, the amount that they learned was ultimately a result of the way they had been taught. So, to say that someone was or was not going to do well in her class was never going to be accurate enough for her as it was only based on the teaching of her colleagues and how each student responded to the different methods.

Hermione spent the rest of the night, and indeed the next few days, reading through her files. There were more than she had anticipated and, between preparing for her classes and learning more about the castle and its various rooms and hallways (which she deemed necessary as a Professor), it was Friday night before Hermione was reading her Seventh Years' files.

There were a total of twelve students in her NEWT class, and she wasn't surprised by any of the names. Although, Gregory Goyle's enrolment in the class in her sixth year had almost caused her (along with the rest of the non-Slytherin members of the class) to faint on the spot, she could no longer follow the assumption that he was there on the merit of copying Draco Malfoy. After opening his file, she had to concede that the boy surprised her.

After Crabbe's death during their previous year, Goyle was less inclined to put himself in harms way. He still maintained a somewhat dense exterior, but Hermione had often wondered if he could really be as stupid as he seemed. From Vector's notes, she surmised that, whilst Goyle had no common sense, he seemed to possess a superior grasp of numbers to that of most of the class. He had problems with a lot of the theory, however, if it were explained to him numerically, with examples, he was able to figure it out.

"Unbelievable," Hermione muttered, scratching her cat behind the ears. "Well, he's hardly a genius, but it seems that Goyle does have a brain after all, Crookshanks. Can you imagine the look on Ron's face when I tell him that?" She faltered slightly when she realised that she would neither be allowed to tell him, nor would he be likely to listen in his current state of mind.

She took a deep breath and forced thoughts of her friends out of her mind. After the next file she would be half way through the last pile of work, and she could finally get around to reading the book Snape had leant her.

She reached for the next file, the one she was most intrigued to see. She had wanted to skip straight to that one, but had forced herself to go through it alphabetically as she had done with the lower years. She would not allow her prejudices to overcome her as a Professor.

Unlike some people, she thought wryly.

Hermione glanced once more at the words, 'Malfoy, Draco' before opening the folder. If she had thought she knew what to expect from his file, she was most definitely mistaken. Whilst she had no misconceptions about Draco's intelligence, she had not expected to discover that his WIT (Wizard Intelligence Testing) was at a level of SG both with Arithmancy and, more surprisingly, overall.

In the Wizarding World, intelligence testing was done with a wand and was relevant to a subject. An overall mark was possible and was often taken as well, but when relating to a specific subject, the mark used would be relevant to the field. Testing took place before a person began their NEWTS, as it was deemed then that the brain, although still able to learn, had reached its potential as far as a level was concerned. In order to sit a NEWT, a person had to have passed their OWL and have a WIT of at least I.

There were seven levels of WIT that one could achieve. The levels had been named after the first person to have attained each level. The order ran as such; Dallas Dernby (D), Sigmund Salamander (S), Freda Ifomp (FI), Ivan Igby (I), Bella Innis (BI), Ganeida Green (G) and Sean Gallant (SG). The names, however, quickly came to be known Dense, Surprisingly Stupid, Fairly Intelligent, Intelligent, Beyond Intelligent, Genius and Surpassing Genius.

Students were tested in every subject, including those they had not chosen. This was in case someone scored an extremely high WIT, but had not known they possessed the ability. In those circumstances, it was possible for someone to be allowed onto the NEWT course if they agreed to extra tutoring, as had been the case with Goyle entering the Arithmancy class.

Hermione had been delighted to receive an overall G and a G in every subject apart from Divination, where she received an FI and Potions and Arithmancy, where she received an SG. To find out that Draco Malfoy possessed an overall WIT higher than hers irked more than a little. According to his file, Draco had received nothing lower than a BI on any subject, even (to Hermione's amusement) Muggle Studies, but his overall intelligence was astounding. To Hermione's knowledge, there were only three known wizards in the whole world with an SG level WIT; Savannah Ria (a Southern American Alchemist), Dmitri Ivanov (a Russian Astronomer) and Albus Dumbledore.

"I guess Draco makes four," she said softly, still unable to wrap her head around the fact.

There was a knock at her door and Hermione stood up to answer it, blinking a few times as her vision began to waver. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself before making her way across the room. She opened the door to a rather disgruntled looking Professor Snape just as another wave of power engulfed her.

Snape's outline blurred until she couldn't make out who he was any longer. All she knew was when she looked at him, it hurt. Her eyes seemed to stab with pain as if they couldn't cope with looking at the man. As before, it was suddenly gone just as soon as it had begun. And one look at Professor Snape told her that she wouldn't be getting away from this one without telling someone what had happened.

~x~x~x~x~x~

"Professor Granger, can you hear me?" Severus took another step forward, resisting the urge to reach a hand out to steady her. He wasn't sure whether or not she would appreciate the gesture, but he did not particularly want Hermione Granger fainting on him. He just knew that if that were to happen it would somehow end up being his fault.

"I'm-I'm all right, Professor, th-thank you."

Severus raised an eyebrow and finally gave in to the urge, steadying her against the opening in the wall. "I might have believed that had you been able to complete the sentence without stuttering like Neville Longbottom."

The woman glared at him and he smirked. She was as easy to rile up as Minerva; it was the innate Gryffindor in her. She felt the need to stand up for those who failed to possess the ability to stand up for themselves. He had been waiting for Longbottom to grow a spine for seven years and he was losing hope. However, the more people like Granger stood up for Longbottom, the less likely he was to do the same for himself. The boy's stint in the Ministry at the end of his fifth year had given him a backbone for all of five seconds. Severus had actually hoped that the boy would hold his gaze, accept his insults with grace (and dare he hope, answer back), and get on with his work. All it had taken had been an added narrowing of the eyes and he had turned into the Longbottom Severus knew and hated. However, two minutes thinking of Longbottom was more than enough to last Severus a lifetime, so he was glad when Granger broke the silence.

"Was there something you needed, Professor?"

Her voice seemed to be returning to normal, and there was definitely fire in her gaze, but something was a little off, and he couldn't help but notice. Nevertheless, Severus was a man who valued his privacy and if Granger wanted to keep her secrets, he would let her, but only if she remained standing. If she fainted on him, she would regret it. He would set Poppy on her.

"Yes, there was. May I come in?"

His request seemed to startle her and Severus wondered if his chosen course of action was wise. Especially when he noted that she seemed to be wearing nothing but her dressing gown. After another moment, she stepped aside and motioned for him to enter.

The room was warm and friendly and, thankfully, devoid of Gryffindor Colours. After spending a prolonged period of time in Minerva's rooms, anyone would feel the urge to hunt Gryffindor for dinner, just so that they could rid the world of the garish red and gold that were the House's colours.

He spotted the rather large ginger cat that he had seen stalking the Hogwarts' Grounds on many occasions and settled in the chair furthest away from it. It wasn't that he didn't think the animal was intelligent, it was simply that he thought it had a questionable taste in friends. Sirius Black being the prime example. Granger followed him into the main part of the room and the cat moved to allow her to sit, curling itself onto her lap.

"Is there something wrong with my cat, Professor?"

"Having seen its temperament, I would question the use of the word 'cat'. Unless you deem to fit the word 'hell' in front of it, 'tiger' seems more appropriate."

Severus hadn't intended to speak those thoughts allowed, but the reaction they garnered was rather unexpected. Granger's laughter echoed through the room and, after looking at her questioningly for a moment, Severus allowed himself a small smirk.

"He does have a bit of a nasty streak, don't you, Crookshanks?" She scratched the animal behind the ears before turning her attention back to him. "What can I do for you, Professor?"

Snape let out a breath, unsure of where to begin. He continued to question his decision to ask her anything, but it seemed prudent to get an inside opinion on the person before he jumped to any conclusions.

When Miss Weasley had approached him in the hallway of Grimmauld Place, he hadn't known what to expect, but a request to speak with him privately when she returned to the school had not been on his list of possibilities. She had haltingly said something about her brother Percy before scurrying off at the sound of her mother's voice. Whilst Severus had his suspicions as to what she could be referring to, he did not want to jump to any conclusions before he had gained some facts.

"Professor Snape?"

"My apologies," he replied, without thinking. Despite the fact that (to his chagrin) she had heard those words from him before, they had clearly caught her off guard and he chose to continue before she found her wits and commented on them. Again. "I would like to enquire as to your opinions of Percy Weasley."

Granger frowned and settled further into her chair. After a few moments, she spoke. "May I ask why?"

Severus debated with himself as to how much he should tell her, both about Virginia Weasley and his own observations. "I believe that his estrangement from his family is not in his best interests."

"Try telling him that," she said with a sigh. She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and he suddenly felt very conscious of himself. "It's important, isn't it?" she questioned. "You wouldn't come to me, of all people, if it wasn't."

"It is important," he replied, not willing to comment on how he viewed her as a confidant. She was Potter's friend, that should be enough to condemn her in his eyes, but she was also one of the most intelligent witches he had ever met in his life. However, he vowed to physically injure himself if he ever told her that. Badly.

"I can't say that I know much, I haven't really seen Percy since he left his family, but I will say that they don't speak of him. I know Mrs Weasley still sends him gifts on his birthday and at Christmas, but I also know that he sends them back. Mr Weasley hides them when he does, but I think she knows."

Severus nodded. It wasn't the information he had come for, but he wasn't entirely sure what he had come for. If he thought about it objectively, there was no possible way Granger could give him any information that would be of much use.

"Is that all?" she asked, and he became aware that he had been silent for a while.

"Yes, I think that is all." He rose to leave, but her voice stopped him before he reached the door.

"Professor, has he taken the Mark?"

Severus turned around to look at her. She had stood up and closed the gap between them to a few steps. In his mind, he tried to separate her from colleague back to student, in order to maintain some form of structure that he was comfortable with, but the presence of the young woman before him demanded that he treat her with more respect than that.

"I do not know." She closed her eyes and nodded slowly and, when she opened them again, he saw that she was grateful that he had been honest with her. "But I intend to find out," he finished.

She nodded and he returned the gesture with a slight inclination of his head. He noticed that the movement caused to disorientate her and he frowned. She seemed to recover quickly, so he did not question her further. Hermione Granger was an extraordinary witch with the intelligence and knowledge to be extremely powerful. When she came into possession of her powers as Hermanté, Severus knew that she would be a force to be reckoned with. Given the state she appeared to be in and the authority and poise she was displaying, he doubted it would be long before that power manifested itself. In fact, he wasn't convinced it hadn't already begun to.

He left Granger's rooms and moved quickly through the hallways, soon finding himself in his own rooms. He removed his robes and quickly entered his private lab, checking on the potions he had left to simmer. He heated the cauldron, picked up the final ingredients and leaned further over the potion, adding the last root of asphodel and mixing the potion twenty-three times counter-clockwise. He closed his eyes briefly and lowered the heat of the flame with a slight twitch of his wrist, bringing the potion back to a simmer. He had bottled the Wolfsbane potion earlier that day and was thankful to be back in his own laboratory again. It was his sacred space, the one place that the snivelling brats couldn't get to him, and he felt more like himself than he had all week, despite there being no students around to bother him. Whilst part of him still considered Granger a student, he had hardly seen her all week, save for meals, so it was not her presence that had irritated him.

He turned to the doorway, with one final glance at the simmering potion, and walked into his rooms, warding the doorway to the lab behind him. His labs led directly into his somewhat spacious living room, and he sighed, removing his robes and throwing them over the edge of the couch. He settled into his armchair and relaxed, allowing his body to sink into the black leather. His rooms, whilst not as welcoming as Granger's, were not cold and dark as he knew people expected. When Minerva had first seen them, she had been rather vocal in that fact.

He took a moment to study the main living room noticing that, while Granger had forgone her House Colours, his were there in full force. It wasn't that he wanted to show House pride particularly, he honestly liked the colours. Severus preferred his privacy, and the only place in the castle he was guaranteed that was in the dungeons. Heating his rooms was not a problem, but there was only so much one could do to brighten the place up that didn't involve garish colours. Or pastels. Severus despised pastels. They were watered down colours with absolutely no power left to them. Magic had many allies, and colour was one of them. Using red with sex magic, or using black with the Dark Arts, it was a random choice. The colours held real power and, to Severus at least, watering them down took away from that power. Therefore, decorating his rooms in pastel colours was not only out of character, but it never even crossed his mind. Using greens, silvers and whites had been his way of brightening up the rooms and, despite opinions to the contrary, House pride was simply an added bonus.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Not willing to wait until the pain grew before administering a potion, he rose and made his way into his bedroom, stopping by his bedside cabinet to pick up the vial. He glanced into the mirror by his bed, struck once more by the difference in his appearance. He had never really wanted to be handsome, well, not since he was a boy at least. But it was odd, looking into the mirror and seeing yourself, but not seeing it at the same time.

Lucius Malfoy had taught him well, on that he knew. Whilst the small, but substantial, age gap had kept them from being at Hogwarts together, their families were well acquainted and they had often spent time in each other's company. In the holidays, during Severus' time at Hogwarts, Lucius had shown him the finer points of seduction and, when Severus had realised that they weren't working for him, he had adjusted them for his own unusual looks.

Unusual? He scoffed at his own thoughts. I believe the word is 'ugly'. Although, he thought, staring at his current reflection with disdain, not that ugly.

Severus had soon found that it was not difficult to seduce women, and even men on some occasions. Despite his less than pretty looks, he had found that he wasn't lacking in charm. It was all a game to Severus. It was an art. All he had to do was be charming and aloof, all he had to do was look at them hungrily and they were more than happy to strip off their clothes and shag him there and then. Lucius had called it magnetism, Severus had called it luck, the women had said it was his eyes.

His eyes had been the first thing to change when he had joined the Dark Lord. The body he had spent the summer working on had been next, quickly followed by the nose he had finally had fixed upon leaving school. He had been lured in by the Dark Arts, but he was not a fool. He had known what Voldemort would want from him, and had done all that he could to ensure that his Master hadn't wanted it at all. It had been the first time he had been glad he didn't have Lucius' good looks, and he had never looked back.

He quickly took his potion, making a mental note to brew more for his personal stores, and placed the empty vial on top of the cabinet. He sighed and entered his bathroom, pulling his robes off and leaving them on the floor. He entered his shower and quickly turned it on, allowing the water to get hot enough to scald him before stopping the rise in temperature. He usually didn't have to have showers like that until at least the second day of term, but having to deal with Granger for the last week seemed to have finally taken its toll.

Although he realised that Granger was the least of his problems, she was an easy scapegoat. He had spent the last week sifting through his Pensieve for any indication of what the youngest Weasley could be wanting with him, searching for everything he knew about the brother she seemed so worried about.

Percy Weasley was not a particularly powerful wizard, that was not what worried him in the slightest, but he was intelligent and that intellect was not something Severus wanted in the hands of the Dark Lord. Percy Weasley had been studious to the extent that made Severus wonder why the boy hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw. Where most people would wonder the same about Hermione Granger, he never had. Ravenclaw would have suited Granger's intellectual pursuits to a tee, but whilst Ravenclaws were happy with simply gaining the knowledge, Granger insisted on acting upon it. Percy Weasley did not act.

Well, until he turned on his family, he thought. He began to shampoo his hair, taking great delight in washing off the grease Albus felt was necessary as an added deterrent. Severus couldn't say he didn't agree, but that did not mean he enjoyed feeling as though there was an oil slick on his head.

Severus did not like the Weasleys, in fact, hating them was a rather enjoyable past time of his, but they were a definite help to the Order. Having nine members (eight if you excluded Percy, which he noted they often did, even before his detachment from them) without even having to try was not something to sneer at. Although he often did.

What worried Severus, though, was the possibility that Percy had joined the Dark Lord. Despite his dislike for them, the one thing annoyingly certain about the Weasleys was their capacity for good. If Percy had turned on that, what were the chances the others would follow? What were the chances that Miss Weasley could follow?

Severus sighed and began to rinse out his hair. If there were three witches that his Master could not be allowed to get his hands on, they were Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, and Virginia Weasley. Hermione's fate seemed to hang in the balance, according to prophecy at least, Blaise was swaying somewhere in the middle, if his observations were correct, but Virginia Weasley had always been the one that Severus had had no worries about. Until now.

If Percy Weasley had turned and Miss Weasley wished to speak with him, was it possible she was considering following her brother into the Dark? Severus seriously hoped that that was not the case. He had hoped never to worry about the two Gryffindors on his small list, but it seemed as though they could turn just as much as Miss Zabini. What irritated him more was, now that Granger was a Professor, he had to worry twice as much as before.

I have no idea what Albus was thinking. We would have been better equipped to look after the woman had she remained a student. Now she'll be under the illusion that she can protect herself and, knowing her past with Potter, we might as well just hand her over to the Dark Lord right now.

He finished up his shower and used a quick drying spell, entering his bedroom and pulling back his sheets. He slipped into bed and picked up the book on his cabinet, realising that sleep was a futile endeavour at that moment. He would have stalked the hallways trying to wind himself down, but without students to take points from, Severus found it lost its appeal.

After rereading the same page about three times, Severus groaned and lay back, replacing the book on his bedside cabinet. No matter how hard he tried, he found his thoughts returned to the witch that resided closer to his dungeons than he was comfortable with, or rather, he found his thoughts returning to what her presence meant. She was Hermanté, and no matter how large his resentment for her very existence as Hermione Granger was, Severus knew that she would play a big part in the war. His only worry was what side she would ultimately end up on.

His disdain for Divination as a subject was no secret, however, Severus found that it was hard to deny the accuracy of the prophecies Dumbledore put his faith in. Whilst he found it difficult to see Hermione Granger, Gryffindor extraordinaire, as anything but a pedestal for all that was sickeningly good in the world, Albus seemed to think there was a danger in the possibility of her loyalties changing.

As if his thoughts had triggered it, he suddenly clutched at his arm, hissing as pain seared through the Dark Mark. He should have expected it, given that his last meeting with the Dark Lord had been over a week previous and, by this time, Voldemort would have heard of Granger's new position within the school.

I'm surprised he didn't call me any sooner, Severus thought with a resigned sigh, making his way quickly to the cupboard and pulling out his cloak and mask. He quickly contacted the Headmaster via the Floo and made his way out of the school.

The night was cold and sent shivers running down his spine. He pulled his cloak tighter and hurried his pace. If there was one thing that Voldemort punished instantly it was lateness and Severus, despite his position within the confines of Hogwarts anti-Apparition wards, was not given any leeway. The moment he reached the edge of the wards, he pulled his mask over his face and Apparated.

He appeared in a small clearing in a forest and a quick glance around showed him that only the members of Voldemort's most Inner Circle were present. He found himself before the select few that Voldemort trusted above all. Wormtail was notably absent, no longer shivering by a tree as his Master approached the clearing.

Severus dropped to one knee, his head bowed, praying that he wasn't about to meet a slow and painful death. It was rare when one of the lower members was granted the opportunity to appear before the Inner Circle and even rarer when they survived such meetings. Voldemort approached him but he remained with his face lowered, waiting for the order to stand.

A few tense moments passed before Voldemort's voice echoed throughout the clearing. "Rise."

Severus stood quickly, meeting Voldemort's gaze at last. The man's appearance made him feel ill every time he was forced to look upon it; in fact, 'man' was a very loose term in Voldemort's case. He was more reptilian than human.

"You have failed to bring me news, Severus."

He inclined his head a little, waiting for Voldemort's permission before replying. He was given a slow nod and he straightened himself. "I was not permitted to leave the castle, my Lord. Whilst Dumbledore believes I spy for him, he was not willing to allow news to become public any sooner than absolutely necessary. I, myself, found out only when she arrived."

Voldemort nodded, seeming to accept his explanation, but no one could ever be sure what the wizard was thinking and only a fool would try to find out. Severus was no fool.

"I wonder, Severus, has Dumbledore let his pet Death Eater in on our little prophecy?"

Severus nodded, knowing that there was no point in lying in this instance. All cards had been seen by both sides in respect to the prophecy; the only information that was not public was the death of Hermione's parents, the news being hidden in order to protect her for as long as possible.

"Then you are aware of the importance Hermione Granger has in this war?"

"I am."

"Excellent." Voldemort's face broke into a smile, or rather the closest thing to a smile that his form allowed. "We have a little mission for you, Severus."

Frowning, the Potion's Master nodded slowly. To refuse was to die. His only hope was that he would be able to deliver.

"If you have heard of the prophecy, you will be aware that the girl can be tempted to join us." Severus nodded and Voldemort continued, "I want you to tempt her, Severus. I want you to befriend her. I want you to teach her all that you know to be true. She is an intelligent girl, make her an intelligent offer. An offer that she cannot refuse."

"I will, my Lord, but, teacher or no, she is friends with Harry Potter."

"Do not worry about Harry Potter," Voldemort said, smiling again, "he will be taken care of."

"Yes, my Lord."

Sensing the dismissal in Voldemort's voice, Severus bowed slightly and turned to leave. He had only taken a few steps when the skin on the back of his neck prickled and he turned around once more.

"And, Severus," Voldemort said, stepping closer, his wand outstretched. "Crucio!"

Severus was only vaguely aware of falling to the ground as every nerve ending seemed to be on fire. He knew nothing but pain. His world began and ended at his aching fingertips. Time seemed irrelevant, all he knew was the searing agony that seemed to be ripping him apart from the inside. He could feel the blood in his veins beginning to tingle and swell, forcing the veins to expand, pushing against muscle and bone, forcing the skin around them to throb. When he was completely conscious, he knew that his appearance altering potions made the effect worse, but at that moment, he knew nothing.

As quickly as it had begun, it ended. Panting a little, Severus pulled himself to his feet and faced Voldemort. He inclined his head, hoping that the gesture looked respectful. He could not have trusted himself to speak, so he remained silent.

"Do not keep things from me again."

Severus nodded, taking those words as a dismissal, and Apparated. Without turning his back this time. He landed on his knees by a tree at the edge of the Hogwarts Grounds and gasped, taking in as much air as his burning lungs would allow. He removed his mask, and wished he had the strength to rid himself of his robes as well. He despised them for what they stood for and wished to spend as little time as possible in them. He remained where he was, not even attempting to move, until a noise from within the gates drew his attention. He quickly drew his wand, aiming at the unsuspecting victim, but lowered it a moment later when the figure came into full view.

"Professor Snape!"

He resisted the urge to groan, although he wasn't sure in what way he wanted to groan. There was the fact that an incredibly beautiful woman was running towards him, dressed in nothing but nightwear, but there was also the fact that that person was Hermione Granger. Both thoughts elicited completely different types of groan, therefore he allowed himself to instead sigh in exasperation.

"What do you want, Professor Granger?" he asked, hoping that his voice did not crack. He knew he had not thrown up whilst in the throws of Crucio, but it had been a close call, as the taste in his mouth, and the dryness off his throat proved.

"I-I felt...I don't know, but-but you were-"

"For goodness sakes, woman, calm down before you asphyxiate."

She nodded her head, but he spotted the fire in her eyes as she leaned against the tree for support. A few minutes later, her breathing had returned to normal and she looked at him again. She scrunched up her face and blinked a few times, as if she were trying to focus on him and Severus was reminded of the way she had reacted to his presence earlier that day.

"Are you all right, Professor?"

Severus wasn't sure who was more shocked. He was clearly going insane. The Cruciatus Curse had finally done it. Not only had he asked after her wellbeing, but he had had spoken in unison with Hermione Granger.

He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at her again. Her lips curled into a smile that she was obviously attempting to hide and he couldn't stop the same response himself. He was too tired to try and he was already convinced he was losing his mind, so what did it really matter?

"I'm fine, Professor," she said, finally breaking the silence. "Are you all right?" Severus nodded, but he could tell that his silence had answered the question for her. "We should get you to the Hospital Wing."

"Under absolutely no circumstances," he replied.

"You are clearly suffering the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, Professor, I can see it floating around you. You need medical attention."

Severus wondered if he should comment on the fact that she could see the magic, but he decided that keeping himself out of Poppy's clutches was more important. "I have all the necessary potions in my rooms, Professor. We do not need to disturb Poppy at this time."

Granger smirked and he glared at her. She could clearly see through his feeble excuse. It wasn't that Poppy Pomfrey was disagreeable to be around, simply that the staff did not particularly appreciate being one of her patients. Whilst she was considered mothering to the students, the words the staff used when in her care were somewhat...stronger.

"I'll tell you what, Professor Snape," she said, "if you allow me to make sure that you make it to your rooms in one piece, alert Albus Dumbledore and take your potions, I will refrain from telling Poppy."

Severus continued to glare at her, not appreciating that he was bargaining for decisions he made for himself on a regular basis. However, he saw no other way out of the situation that did not involve Poppy, thus he found himself nodding his head.

Granger made no move to help him to his feet, which he was eternally grateful for. He could not think of any way to explain to Dumbledore how he had hexed the Hermanté. He was also wondering if she couldn't take him at the moment anyway. He was suffering more than he had in a while and her powers were clearly beginning to materialise.

They walked through the grounds in silence, Granger remaining a few steps behind him. He preferred to think that she was doing so because, as a student, that had always been the case, however, part of him knew she was behind him so that she would be able to tell if he were about to fall over. Neither commented on that fact, and Severus was glad to see that she had acquired some sense.

They made their way slowly to the doors of the castle and continued at the same pace through the hallways and down into the dungeons. When they reached the wall to his quarters, he muttered, "Círdan," hoping that she would either overhead or understand if she did. Her muffled snort of laughter told him he was unsuccessful.

"You're a Lord of the Rings fan?" she asked, following him into the small entrance room.

"No, I merely chose the word at random," he answered with a slight sneer. Her smile told him that she had detected his sarcasm and he wasn't sure whether or not he appreciated that. The thought that she was able to read him so well after less than a week, when he was not particularly seeking out her company, did not sit well with him.

The door to his right led to his laboratory and, loathe though he was to allow her admittance, he knew he should not enter it in his current state. The walk to the castle, and then to his rooms, had taken their toll, as he had kept a reasonably quick pace in order not to show any more weakness than was absolutely necessary. He did not wish to enter the room in the event that he lost his balance and upset some of his more delicate potions works. He sighed and waved his hand, lowering the wards he had cast over the lab.

"The door to your right leads to my private laboratory. The potions I require are in the right hand cabinet at the far end. Touch nothing else."

He left her standing in the entrance room and entered his living room, resisting the urge to simply collapse on the chair. He continued ahead and entered his room, finally removing his Death Eater robes and placing them, along with the mask, in his cupboard. He could deal with cleaning them later. He had learned the hard way that it was not wise to leave them sitting out, or an unsuspecting house-elf may decide to take them for washing and end up with an Obliviate for his efforts.

Or, at least he should have, Severus thought angrily. Why Dumbledore insists on trusting a house-elf, least of all one that used to belong to Lucius Malfoy, is beyond me.

Severus had no disrespect, per se, for house-elves, but he knew their place, as did they. Trusting one with the secret that could spell the end of his life were it leaked was not high on his list of good ideas. However, he and Albus Dumbledore had very different opinions on what a good idea was.

"Professor?"

He turned to see Hermione Granger standing in the doorway to his bedroom, clearly not sure whether or not entering would be a good idea. However much he wished to keep her out, Severus sensed that his strength was coming to an end. He sat on the edge of the bed and he could tell from the look on her face that his fatigue and pain was evident on his face.

He did not like to show weakness in front of anyone, but, to be fair, she had sensed his pain from the castle and felt compelled to come to his aid. Whilst he did not particularly want help from anyone, he could not deny that he appreciated it. Despite that, he had absolutely no intention of vocally inviting her into his bedchamber.

Hermione seemed to understand that she would not be getting an invitation and took a tentative step forward, as if she were expecting he would smite her down should she take another. When nothing seemed to happen, she crossed the room and handed him three vials. He frowned and glanced at them. He had only intended for her to get the two; one for the pain in his nerves and the other to send him into a dreamless sleep. On glancing at the third vial, he had no need to read the label. He looked at her in complete shock.

She frowned. "I don't know what it is, but something made me...I mean, I just thought...Something made me think you'd need it."

Severus nodded slowly. He had never really considered it before, but her instincts were correct. The vial she had chosen was the antidote to the appearance altering potions he took and, while he had never considered using it after being on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse, she was spot on. It would definitely help him. With his body in its natural alignment, the other potions, and his own immune system, would be able to work quicker at eliminating the pain.

"You are correct, Miss Granger, it will help." He noticed his slip up instantly, but, although she bit her lip, she did not comment. "I will, however, not take them until I retire."

She seemed curious to know what the contents of the third vial was, but she, wisely, kept her mouth shut on that matter. "Would you like me to rouse Professor Dumbledore on the Floo?"

Severus nodded and rose to his feet as she left his bedroom. His limbs were aching constantly, and, in the sanctity of his own rooms, he was less inclined to hide that fact. By the time he reached the door, he could hear voices in the room. He entered and made his way to his black leather armchair, unable to stop the smile at the absurdity of the matter. Hermione Granger, his former pupil, was kneeling on the emerald green rug in front of his fireplace informing Albus that he had returned from his meeting with the Dark Lord. Had someone told him a few weeks ago that this would happened, he would have hexed them on the spot.

"Ah, Severus, how are you feeling?" Albus asked, concern in his eyes. A glare was the only reply the elder man received, but, as it was normal behaviour for Severus, the Headmaster seemed pleased. "Very well. I will allow you to get some sleep, for the moment-"

"How kind of you."

"-and we can discuss this evening's events tomorrow. We won't expect you for breakfast. Come for tea tomorrow at one o'clock."

Severus nodded. "I believe Professor Granger should join us."

"Me?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"What do you expect was the topic of tonight's meeting, Miss Granger?" he said, not even having the energy left to sneer. "Given that you are at the centre of a rather important prophecy and have just accepted the role as Professor, I can hardly think of anything more pressing to discuss."

She seemed upset and, whilst that realisation did not bother him very much, it irked him because she appeared more upset about the being the cause of his current state than the fact that she was one of the Dark Lord's targets. Unless she started concerning herself with her predicament, she would be putting herself in even more danger.

Severus rubbed his eyes and only barely managed to stop himself from sighing. He had always been under the impression that his students were going to end up being the death of him. He ignored the voice that pointed out that she was no longer his student and sat up straighter, setting his jaw to stop a hiss as pain ran up his spine.

Dumbledore had agreed to Granger's presence and had bid them good night. She stood up and turned to look at him expectantly.

"What?"

She frowned. "Well, I have no intention of leaving until you've at least made it into your room. That was the deal."

He growled and used the arms of the chair to help him stand up, without making it look as though he was aiding himself. It didn't work; she noticed.

"I am not an infant, Miss Granger," he hissed. "I do not require tucking in."

Instead of angering her, she seemed amused. "I had no intention of tucking you in, Severus, but unless you want Poppy to do just that, I suggest you make a move towards your bedroom."

He wasn't sure he had ever been spoken to in such an impertinent manner by anyone other than Minerva and the knowledge that her prize pupil had picked up the habit was not pleasant. He did not appreciate it from either pupil or mentor and he intended to put a stop to it. As soon as he was sure he was not about to collapse at Granger's feet.

He made it into his bedroom and settled on the edge of his bed. She was standing in his doorway. He raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Do you plan to watch me undress, Professor?" he asked, making sure not to call her Miss Granger. She had made her point. For every time he called her that, she would use his given name in that...manner she had of delivering it. He wasn't sure how she managed to do it, but she seemed to be able to wield his name in a way that made it a weapon. She managed to make him feel the same way his mother always had when she was scolding him. It wasn't a pleasant experience.

He was pleased to see that she seemed to blush at the comment. She nodded her head and reached for the door handle.

"I won't insult you by saying, 'get well soon', Professor."

"How kind of you."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow at one."

He nodded his head and she closed the door behind her. He listened to her leaving, hearing the doors click shut. He was preparing to gather what little strength he had in order to reset his wards when he felt a surge of magic.

The little minx, he thought, torn between astonishment, amusement, and anger. She had not only reset his wards, but she had keyed them to accept only his magical signature. A quick test proved they would not even accept her.

He removed his clothing, still unable to believe that she had managed to use Higher Magic so easily. He had ensured that the entrance hall was white, with red and bright blue lines painted above the door frames for the specific purpose of being used in correlation with protection spells. He had not, however, expected Hermione to be able to be able to deal with Higher Magic without the correct university training.

He settled himself into his bed, taking the antidote to his potions first. The pain of his bones realigning was made worse by the remains of the Cruciatus Curse that still coursed through him, but the feeling of being back in his own body a few moments later filled him with relief. He took the other potions, placing the vials on his cabinet beside the empty bottle that had contained the headache potion he had taken.

The potions began to work instantly and, in his relief, he almost wanted to thank Granger for giving him the antidote. How she had known it would help was a mystery, but at that moment, he did not care. She was going to be very powerful, anyone who thought otherwise was clearly lacking any intelligence. It was a wonder that the Dark Lord had not thought to recruit her, even without the powers of Hermanté. Although, the fact that she was Muggle-born was clearly an issue, even with the prophecy. The Death Eaters, he was sure, were not too keen on having her. Of course, few of them knew that the Dark Lord himself was a Mudblood.

Sighing, he rolled onto his side, the pain in his back simply too much to handle lying on it any more. He whispered, "Nox," and closed his eyes, feeling the Dreamless Sleep potion beginning to work.

Severus tried to clear his mind, but one thought remained. He couldn't picture Hermione Granger at Voldemort's side, but he also knew that, when she fully became Hermanté, she would cease to be Hermione Granger as they knew her. All they could do was hope that, when the time came, the new Hermione Granger would find that her place was with them.

~x~x~x~x~x~

TBC...