Disclaimer: Don't own it! If I did, I would be making money. /opens wallet and moths fly out/ No money. No ownie.

Chapter 7: Conversations, Part 1

"Hermione."

She shifted in her seat, burrowing her face further into the pillow of her folded arms. Stupid voice interrupting her sleep…

"Hermione, wake up."

Why didn't it shut up and let her sleep?

A sigh and then wearily a male voice stated, "Hermione, your mirror has been playing the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Carol of the Bells for the past ten minutes. And as much as I enjoy hearing guitars in a Christmas tune, I'd like it to stop."

Hermione jolted upright then and stared into a pair of tired emerald eyes, blinking.

"Wha?"

Harry smiled slightly and said, "Your mirror's ringing."

She blinked then gasped and scrambled out of her chair, making a wild dash around Harry's bed to the table beside her own. Snatching up the mirror, she tapped it with her wand and exclaimed, "I'm sorry! I was asleep!" She then noticed the face in the mirror had blood smeared across its right cheek and a black eye blooming marvelously on the same side. "What in Merlin's name happened?"

"No time to explain," replied Severus in a low growl. "I'm taking a chance contacting you right now. If I'm caught, the consequences will be deadly."

Hermione frowned then said, "Tell me."

Her ex-professor nodded and looked around before he began to speak.

"One of the Auror battalion commanders apparently got it into his head to attack us. Remember the meeting I told you earlier I wanted you to inform Shacklebolt about?"

She nodded and he scowled

"Apparently this idiot took it into his head to strike at us. Now I'm being looked at suspiciously and am stuck in the fortress as I can't get out without getting caught in someone's spells." He glowered at her as she opened her mouth and spat, "And don't even suggest trying to Apparate. I've tried. All of the wards are still up, so I haven't an idea of how those idiots got in."

"Why are you contacting me?" asked Hermione. "Surely it would be safer to just sit and wait it out."

"I don't have that luxury. If I knew for certain that I would make it out of here, I'd have waited to contact you."

A feeling of dread flickered to life in the young woman's stomach at those words.

"Sir…please don't tell me that…"

"He knows," interrupted Severus. "I'm uncertain how but he knows that Potter is back. He apparently can't reach him through the connection in his scar, which has him worried." He turned away from the mirror then, revealing a bleeding gash on his neck, and Hermione faintly heard the sounds of a struggle through the glass. A shout of the Killing Curse made her wince and she looked fearfully at the face in the mirror.

"You should go," she said.

He nodded and looked at her with dark eyes that were intense with an emotion she couldn't quite comprehend.

"I know. I had to let you know first."

She smiled tightly and said, "Thank you, sir."

Severus nodded again then lifted his wand to sever the connection between their mirrors. He paused as she reached out a hand to touch the glass on her side and he looked at her curiously.

"Granger?"

Hermione smiled as warmly as she could and said, "Be careful."

The spy turned Potions Master turned fugitive chuckled bitterly at that.

"Always. Goodbye, Hermione."

With that the mirror went dark, leaving her gaping blankly down at its smooth surface. She then pressed it against her chest, closing her eyes as she willed a sob back.

True, she had never liked Severus Snape – had even thought she'd hated him when she'd thought he was responsible for Dumbledore's death. But when the ruse was revealed to her amongst the others in the inner circle and she was set to be their spy's only link to the outside world, she'd thrown away her hate. She'd come to respect him over time and thought of him as somewhat of a confidant and a friend.

His final words before he'd cut the connection between their mirrors's had been too much like a last goodbye.

Hermione held back tears as she set the mirror down, silently cursing the world. Dumbledore, a man so many had looked up to, had turned out to be no better than Voldemort in her eyes for what he'd done to Harry. And Severus Snape, a man who lived life one day at a time with every action possibly leading his death if he did something wrong and seen as a murderer by most of the world, had turned out to be a surprisingly noble man despite his bitter nature.

If the latter died and the former were allowed to live…something was wrong in the world.

To allow the man who had turned away from the Darkness then had willingly gone back into it with the title of murderer attached to his name to die and to let the man who had kidnapped her best friend against his will and turned him into whatever he was now live would be one of the most unfair things the world has ever done.

But then again, when was life fair?

"Hermione?"

Turning away from the mirror, she looked over at Harry, who had turned his head so he could look at her. Concern was clear in his emerald eyes as well as pain that was well hidden behind a carefully forged mask.

"What's wrong?" he asked as she approached his bed. He tried to shift and sit upright but that just made the pain radiating from his back worse. Grunting, he stilled and just looked at her before reaching out to wrap his clawed hand about her own. "Hermione, please, talk to me."

She looked down at him with a lost expression on her face and such hopelessness in her eyes that it made him wince. His feral half stirred to life in response and growled, demanding to know what had caused its female to look such a way. He firmly told it she was no one's female, least of all its, then carefully pressed her again for information.

"Hermione, please tell me what's wrong."

"I-it's Snape."

Harry blinked then remembered that Snape had been conversing with her over the past few years. Surprisingly he didn't feel any amount of dislike for the man anymore. Not after he'd found out Dumbledore was alive and what the old wizard had put him through. Snape may not have liked him, but he would never have done the things Dumbledore had done to him. Or allowed them to be done if he'd known they were going to occur.

"What about him?" he asked softly, tugging her closer to the bed. If only he could get up without feeling that intense pain in his back! She needed comfort, damnit! More comfort than he could give lying here on his stomach on this accursed bed.

"The meeting he was at was attacked by Auror's and he's not certain if he will be able to make it out alive." She then looked at him with fear in her eyes and said, "But his real reason for contacting me was to give me information."

"Information?" repeated Harry. "What sort of information?"

He then felt a tremor of fear rise up within him and began, "Hermione, did he…"

"Voldemort knows you're back," she said, interrupting him. Her hand clenched about his then and he both saw and smelt the tears in her eyes. "He knows and we're never going to get another moments rest now that he knows!"

Harry smiled and lifted their entwined hands so he could brush his claws against her cheek. The contact of cool bone against skin made her look at him, tears forgotten, and he said, "And were we getting a moments rest anyway? Between these damned transformations of mine and Dumbledore's continued meddling, have we really had much rest?"

She looked at him for a long moment then shook her head.

"No, I suppose not. But, Harry…"

"Shh." He slipped his hand from hers and covered her mouth, saying, "So long as I have you at my side, I have no worries. Not even Voldemort knowing I'm back can make me worry."

Hermione's heart hammered against her ribs at his words and she leaned forward, gently touching his cheek. His wolfish ears flicked and he leaned into the touch, eyes closing to half-mast in content. Then they opened and he smiled at her.

She returned the smile and whispered, "I'll always be at your side, Harry."

His hand closed around hers as he said, "I know."