Hour of Grace

HOUR OF GRACE

by Strega Brava

Chapter Eight: Omniapurgalis

Hermione found it very difficult to sleep that night. Tossing and turning fitfully…afraid to dream and yet wanting to dream, she found herself staring at the ceiling for long stretches of time.

"When did this happen to me?" she thought to herself. "When did he happen to me? All this time, I thought I knew everything there was to know about him and not one bit of it was good. And now, all this happens and my heart does an about-face. Suddenly he matters to me…more than I care to admit to anyone."

Her fingers traced her lips delicately and she closed her eyes, remembering his kiss. So strange. So unlike anything she could have imagined. Perhaps she had expected him to be forceful, rough and cold…expected him to be more like the Draco Malfoy she thought she knew rather than the one she wanted to know so badly. His kiss had been soft, almost tentative…very warm. Her heartbeat quickened just thinking about it.

She looked back over the past six years and there was nothing there to indicate anything like this was ever simmering inside him. He had always insulted her…cruelly pointing out her lack of a proper wizarding background. He had never shown any concern for her…took every opportunity to taunt and belittle her. In short, he had been a complete prat. It was still difficult to believe that she had been so wrong…but, then again, could she have realistically taken this situation into consideration? It was disturbing, to say the least.

The next morning, Hermione got out of bed early and decided to take a quick shower before breakfast. An attempt, if nothing else, to energize herself somewhat…drive away the sleepy fuzziness that lurked around the edges of her consciousness.

"A few more weeks of this and I will be a walking wraith," she muttered angrily as she looked at herself in the mirror, noting the dark circles under her eyes.

She quickly washed and got dressed, picking up her bookbag before running down the stairs to the common room. Although there were no classes today (other than tutorials), she thought she might do a bit of reading. Harry and Ron were deeply engrossed in a game of wizard’s chess and, as usual, Ron was beating Harry rather shamelessly.

"That’s another checkmate for me, Harry," Ron said proudly as the chess pieces magically re-assembled themselves on the board.

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair and sighed.

"One day, Ron. One day I will beat you," he groaned dramatically as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. Hermione noticed that he looked very sleepy as well.

Ron smirked, "Right…and on that particular day, I will kiss that slimy git, Malfoy."

Concentrating on putting away the chessboard, Ron did not notice Harry and Hermione glance at each other nervously. When were they going to tell Ron? Should they tell Ron?

"I’ll hold you to that, Ron," Harry laughed, trying to ease the anxiety in Hermione’s face.

"I’ll make sure Colin has his camera," she replied with a hollow smile.

Ron grimaced as he faced his friends. "Thank heavens there isn’t a chance of that happening."

"What?" Harry questioned. "Me winning or you kissing Malfoy?"

"Both." Ron grinned brazenly.

"Let’s go down to breakfast. I’m starving," Hermione pulled on both Ron and Harry to follow her to the Great Hall where she sat down quickly and did not dare chance a glance at the Slytherin table.

She put a slice of toast on her plate and began spreading marmalade on it absently.

"You don’t look like you slept much," Harry said quietly as he poured her a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Thank you, Harry. No, I did not sleep at all well. Scared of nightmares," she murmured as she sipped the juice quietly.

Harry looked at her with compassion.

"Hey everyone!" Neville sat down opposite the trio and began piling freshly toasted bagels onto his plate. "Dumbledore really outdid himself last night. Spectacular! Did you try any of that rainbow punch?"

"I had some," Hermione muttered, thinking about her robes. Well, it wasn’t a lie in the strictest sense.

"The others are still snoring away. Honestly, they are not made for feasting, are they?" Neville laughed as he speared a few sausages.

"Are any of the girls up?" Harry asked.

"Last time I checked the girls’ dormitory was back in fifth year and I got a near hiding from Professor McGonagall," Neville blushed somewhat.

"Neville Longbottom!" Hermione exclaimed in shock before being hurriedly shushed by Harry and Ron. "How…why…"

"Dean and Seamus dared me to do it. I went in and opened the first door on the right," Neville was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Hermione did some quick mental calculations and then gasped. "That was my old room!"

"Yeah…I know," Neville was as red as a strawberry-rhubarb pie now, "and you are really cute when you’re sleeping."

"Neville!" Hermione hissed, too shocked to be embarrassed.

"Way to go Neville," Ron reached across the table and patted Neville on the shoulder. "Never thought you had it in you, old man."

Hermione glared at Ron and Neville while Harry simply laughed helplessly.

"You’re no help at all, Harry," Hermione pouted.

"Sorry. If it will make you feel better, I can arrange to let you into Neville’s room when he is sleeping," Harry offered.

Hermione laughed at Neville’s horrified expression.

"Perhaps," she said in a drawling voice.

The conversation drifted over to other things such as Quidditch and more Quidditch. More Gryffindors showed up and Hermione was able to simply let her mind wander. They had to meet Professor Snape tonight. She glanced over at the head table and looked for a familiar head of jet-black hair. He didn’t seem to have much appetite either as he looked up at her and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Tonight," she thought to herself.

********That night*****************

Hermione and Harry were sitting in the library, pretending to read and watching the clock intently. They knew that Professor Snape would be finished with his tutorials at 9:00 pm and they did not want to be late. There were plenty of other students in the library but they were too busy doing last-minute homework that they didn’t pay any attention to the pensive pair.

"We are going to have to tell Ron at some point," Harry whispered to Hermione.

"I know," she sighed quietly. "He is not going to take that at all well…he and Draco are like oil and water…always separate."

"What we need is a salad," Harry said soberly.

Hermione chuckled softly and punched Harry in the arm.

"You have a sorry sense of humour, Harry. I’d expect better jokes from Professor Snape."

"Speaking of which," Harry glanced at the clock, "we should get going…it’s about five minutes to nine."

"All right," Hermione whispered, suddenly a little cold.

"Nervous?"

"A little."

"Don’t be."

They quietly walked out of the library and headed towards the dungeons. The air gradually began to grow cooler and felt slightly damp as they seemingly descended into the very bowels of Hogwarts where a certain Potions Master waited. The classroom was quiet and, for a moment, both thought that the tutorial had already ended. But, upon entering, they saw that there were about eight sixth year students copying notes that Professor Snape had written. Hermione noticed that Ginny was there as well. Professor Snape looked to be grading an assignment and, other than the occasional swishing of his quill, one would have easily mistaken him for a statue.

Hermione looked at Harry who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Professor Snape?" she ventured quietly.

Professor Snape looked up quickly and regarded the two of them for a moment before looking up at the clock.

"It is now 9:00 pm students. Please remember to have the essay in to me by end of day Wednesday. Good evening," he announced in a tired voice.

The students gathered up their things and filed out of the classroom, chatting quietly. Ginny waved and came over to Hermione.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Hermione and I have a few questions about NEWTs," Harry replied quickly. Hermione shot him a grateful look.

"Well," Ginny looked thoughtful, "I wish you luck. Snape hasn't been particularly helpful tonight. Just wrote down a whole lot of notes for us to copy. Looks as if his mind is elsewhere. Well, I have an essay to finish so I will probably see you in the common room."

"Don't wait up...we might go visit Moaning Myrtle," Hermione smiled nervously. She didn't like the idea of Ginny waiting up for them. That would be awkward.

Ginny laughed and, picking up a book that had fallen, left the classroom to join the others.

Professor Snape magically erased the chalkboards and came over to Hermione and Harry.

"I would suggest that we go to my office but it is far too cold. Come to my chambers and we can talk like civilized people."

Hermione nodded wordlessly and both she and Harry hurried after the Potions Master as he swept out of the classroom and down the corridor, robes billowing dramatically behind him. They had to practically run in order to keep up with his long, unhurried strides. After a few turns and a rather interesting trip up a moving staircase, they arrived at the wing of the castle that housed the professors' private apartments.

Professor Snape approached a door and, touching his wand to the lock, muttered a quiet spell. The lock glowed bright green and the door opened softly. He stood by the door in an unmistakable gesture of invitation. Hermione felt herself get pushed forward by Harry and they both entered.

"I apologize for the rather spartan living arrangements but, while not luxurious, it is comfortable," Professor Snape pointed towards a small parlour where there was a large fireplace, a sofa and two wing chairs, a small table and many, many bookshelves. As the older man magically conjured a fire, Harry sat down on one of the wing chairs, rather pleasantly surprised to find it very comfortable. Hermione walked over to the bookshelves, perusing the titles with interest.

"I see you like my collection of books," Professor Snape's voice drawled as he prepared a tray with several mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of biscuits.

"If I had known you had all these books, Professor Snape, I would never have made it to the library. You have some very rare ones…an original copy of "Vitae Draconigenae" by Oden, a copy of "Medicamentum Aegyptus" by Imhotep, "La Vita Di Una Strega" by Collette and…goodness…"Apprentissage du Malin". I thought that was banned years ago."

Then she stopped to look at a group of books that looked to have been hastily stuffed near the bottom of one bookshelf.

"I don't believe it!" she exclaimed, pulling one out.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"You have a complete collection of Gilderoy Lockhart's books?"

Professor Snape grimaced slightly. "A Christmas present from Professor McGonagall. She obviously thought I would find it amusing."

Hermione sat down on the sofa, smiling at Professor Snape’s awkward expression as he served the hot chocolate.

"Thank you," Harry said politely.

"Thank you," Hermione repeated.

Professor Snape placed the plate of biscuits on the table and sat next to Hermione. For a few moments, there was silence as each sipped quietly. Hermione felt that Professor Snape wanted to choose his words carefully.

"I think," Professor Snape said finally, "I would like to know the real reason why you are so interested in Draco Malfoy and his…most unfortunate circumstances. You’ll forgive me for being rather forward, but you have never, to my knowledge, been anything akin to friends."

Hermione blushed and found herself unable to look up from her mug.

"Professor…I really don’t think…" Harry started.

"No, Harry," she interrupted. "He’s right."

She calmly raised her eyes to meet the rather enigmatic gaze of her teacher. Surprisingly, he did not seem cold, harsh or disdainful. In fact, he simply looked concerned. What was to be gained by lying to him when he seemed to be the only person who could help her?

"I love him," she said simply, not moving her gaze from those black eyes.

A myriad of emotions seemed to play across his face but they disappeared quickly and he nodded.

"I thought as much although I would never have believed it possible," he said quietly…almost to himself.

"What do we do, Professor?" Harry asked, trying to draw attention to the task at hand rather than the still uncomfortable topic of Hermione’s feelings.

Professor Snape regarded Hermione for just a moment longer, silently appraising…her? Was he questioning the depth of her feelings?

"I will tell you what I suspect Lucius has done to his son. It is, in my opinion, the only logical explanation. And yet, even I cannot believe that he did…that." Professor Snape stopped and took another sip, almost as if to wash away the foul taste of his thoughts.

"Tell me everything, Professor Snape. I need to know everything," Hermione pleaded.

"Lucius Malfoy, as you are no doubt well aware, is an evil man. He is not simply power-hungry, as most of the Death Eaters are…he goes beyond that. Sometimes I think he is quite mad. Sometimes I think that the desire to have dominion over others and the blind faith he places in the Dark Lord have unhinged him somewhat," Professor Snape stared into the fireplace.

"That seems to be too simple of an explanation," Hermione muttered, remembering how Lucius had treated her on several occasions, "much too simple."

"Agreed," Professor Snape stood up, walked over to the fireplace and leaned on the mantle. "Did the Headmaster speak of Narcissa?"

"He did mention her," Harry replied quietly.

"Narcissa was a very special person who, unfortunately, became ensnared in Lucius’ lies and deceptions. She was smart. She was beautiful and she had a warm and trusting heart. It was her heart that led her down the…wrong path. As their relationship deepened, I noticed that she became withdrawn and timid. She never read. She never ventured outside without Lucius. She simply stopped being herself and started becoming…an appendage…a utensil for Lucius to use and manipulate. I suspect he was subjecting her to the Imperius Curse even then," he stopped for a moment, and turned to look at the two students who were listening to him so intently.

‘Didn’t anyone suspect?" Hermione ventured.

"I am certain that most people did but they were in no position to make an accusation against one of the most well-connected wizarding families in the country. They have a tendency to…disappear."

Harry and Hermione both looked at one another nervously.

"And she married him?" Harry asked.

"Yes, she did," Professor Snape sighed, "despite my better judgement, I did not try to dissuade her. I could see that she was hoping that everything would get better after they were married. She wanted to have children. Lucius wanted an heir…a male heir. Nothing else would be acceptable. I don’t believe she really knew what sort of horrors she was stepping into…her very real love for him blinded her to his horrible realities."

"Did it take long for her to become pregnant?" Hermione blushed slightly.

The older man sipped out of his mug thoughtfully although she noticed that the fingers gripping the handle had suddenly turned white.

"Lucius is very…efficient," he said finally.

"And then?" Harry practically whispered.

"During her pregnancy, Lucius could not touch her…magically and that was the last time I saw Narcissa truly happy. I think part of it was due to the fact that she was to bear the heir her husband so desperately wanted. I think part of it was because she hoped that this would change Lucius. I suppose she hoped that fatherhood would make him a better man. She was most mistaken. If anything, fatherhood made Lucius even more of a brute. You have to understand," Professor Snape sat down on the sofa again and placed his coffee cup on the table, "Lucius Malfoy is not like your father, Hermione, who would have been proud of you had you been born a muggle or a witch. And he is most assuredly not like your father, Harry. As much as James and I had our differences…well…I never had much of a family myself and I have always admired someone who places their family as their top priority."

"But that doesn’t make sense," Hermione interrupted. "He wanted to have a male heir so badly and then he mistreated him?"

"He wanted a male heir to give over to the Dark Lord so that his place in the Death Eaters circle would be assured. My assumption is that Draco was subjected to the Ritual Bath at a very young age…certainly well before his first birthday. How this did not kill him amazes me…I have seen grown men driven insane by it. At that young age he would have become little more than an automaton, responding only to the wishes of his father and, of course, the Dark Lord."

"I can’t believe anyone would do that to their child," Harry shuddered, feeling a pang of sympathy for his supposed foe.

"For all the evil you have seen in the world, Harry, there is nothing that can compare to that level of betrayal," Professor Snape remarked bitterly.

"Narcissa suspected that this would happen?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, and she contacted the Headmaster immediately. He could not do much without causing complete anarchy within the Ministry of Magic so he formulated a protective ointment, which protected Draco's soul, so to speak. He does not yet belong to the Dark Lord but he will."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, suddenly cold.

"His 18^th birthday is approaching at the beginning of the year. That is when he will receive the Dark Mark…or, if he somehow resists, he will be killed," Professor Snape shuddered slightly.

"This doesn't explain the two voices I heard," Hermione commented. "Everything else seems to make sense. Lucius is currently controlling Draco but the control is imperfect so that explains why he sometimes comes across as…well…someone else."

"My belief is that Lucius has cast not an Imperius curse but a much more powerful enslavement curse called the Obligatio Deservio curse which is closely related but which resides in an object. Usually, the person needs to be in contact with this object for a period of time in order to recharge the spell," the older man explained.

"Something like a battery," Harry remarked. Professor Snape gave him a curious glance. "Muggle power source."

"We have to find this object and release him from it during the time when he is himself. That is the easy part."

"The easy part?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Because Draco was subjected to the Ritual Bath at such a young age, his entire body is contaminated with residual dark magic…dark magic of the most powerful and dangerous kind. When it is combined with the Obligatio Deservio curse it becomes nearly impossible to break the curse without performing a very advanced purifying spell…the Omniapurgalis."

Hermione blanched. Harry looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"It's very advanced magic, Harry. It combines a complicated potion with a powerful spell…" Hermione trailed off, looking decidedly worried.

"Why do I get the impression that the consequences could be very bad?" Harry suddenly asked.

Professor Snape looked at the two students with pity and yet with hope.

"The consequences of not completing the spell or performing it incorrectly include madness and death," he whispered.

Harry looked at Hermione who was staring into the fireplace. She looked to be thinking deeply. He could see the tears forming in her eyes as she turned to the Potions Master and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"If it will save him…" she murmured in a quiet voice.

"It will."

"Teach me," she pleaded.

"Teach us," Harry stood up and walked over to them, arms crossed over his chest.

With the barest of smiles on his face, Professor Snape nodded.