AN: Warning: This chapter contains a torture scene.

Hermione had come to dearly love spring in the Scottish Highlands. The cold of winter let go slowly, and wizard and Muggle alike took joy in the signs of the Maiden's awakening. Hermione had taken her flock of firsts and seconds on a field trip, still in sight of the Hogwarts temporary campus of tents, to show them how to find and gather a few of the more common potions ingredients that grew locally. This was only one of the improvements to the potions curriculum that they were able to implement, now that she was there to take some of the classes. And, of course, more importantly, now that her husband no longer had to maintain his cover as the greasy git of the dungeons.

Hagrid was with her. Fang had not escaped unscathed from Hagrid's burning hut the night Dumbledore had died. There was still a patch on his flank that had never grown back fur. The boarhound was showing his years, but not so much that he couldn't herd the little ones as if they were straying sheep.

Hagrid pointed something out to her that she had missed. The children had paired off, and only one of them was ever working at any one time. The other was always on watch, wand at the ready, eyes never still.

Hermione told them quietly, "It's all right. Professor Hagrid and I are watching, and Fang would bark." Tears stung her eyes. She had to give them permission--just for now--to be children.

As she had promised, she stood sentry. After a few minutes, the kids started asking questions about the plants and bugs they found. She was thankful for her photographic memory. It helped her maintain the illusion that "Madame Snape knows everything."

It was victory enough for one day that, when their steps turned toward home, the children were laughing and playing. If they might never again be completely carefree, at least they were reminded that there was still wonder in the world.


Minerva McGonagall turned another page in the Vandenhorst Grimoire. She had learned a number of deadly hexes and curses from the tome, things that weren't Unforgivables but probably should be. She had never wanted to know how to boil a man alive in his own blood, and that was perhaps the most merciful hex she had found so far. A terrible end, to be sure, but at least it was a quick one. Others were far worse; things that made the Unforgivables seem kind in comparison.

The nature of the grimoire was that she couldn't just skim through to the spell she needed. She had to cast each spell before the next became available. That meant setting up careful wards each time, then cleansing the space of residual dark energy afterwards. It had been exhausting and frustratingly slow.

The weeks of work became worthwhile, though, when she turned the page--finally--to see the spell she needed. With a sigh of relief, she reached for quill and parchment to copy it.

The grimoire did not give up its secrets willingly. She cast a binding over it, forcing it into quiescence while she worked. Finished, she warded the grimoire and sent it to the Ministry for safekeeping.

The hard work was just beginning. She put several layers of protection on the parchment to keep it from falling into the wrong hands and walked out past the wards to disapparate home.


Hermione sat down on the bed and tapped her wand to her prosthesis. "Ow! I just knew I had blisters." She cast a quick scourgify to clean it and then healed her stump.

Severus brought a small pot of salve over. "Let me."

She relaxed into his care. "Oh, thank you. That feels heavenly. I really have grown quite lazy if a simple walk up the mountain takes this much out of me."

"Did you enjoy it, blisters aside?"

"Yes, I certainly did," she smiled. "It was so sad at first though. The children were working in pairs, half of them on overwatch and half working, as if they were on patrol in enemy territory. They didn't relax until they were assured that Hagrid and Fang were on guard."

"After Miss Vaught's death, they only truly feel safe within the wards. I cannot honestly tell them otherwise. We can surely teach them confidence in a group of that size with two adults along, however."

Hermione said, "I should be able to teach them confidence better, I think, if I felt more of it myself. I have always been more of a scholar than a duelist, and I was content with that. But now I have a child to protect, and that changes things."

"If Alastor Moody is any indication I doubt your injury would stop you. He manages well enough with an artificial leg. You are certainly recovered from childbirth by now. Why don't you join us Saturday, if Madame Pomfrey agrees?"

Hermione knew many of the faculty and the students met in a loosely organized dueling club to keep their skills sharp. It was a natural continuation of Dumbledore's Army for the students, and a number of them were good enough to give the adults a decent challenge. Once Severus had come back with a freshly healed slicing hex, so she knew they took it every bit as seriously as the Aurors did. "I'll ask her."

While she was putting her prosthesis back on, a runner came up to ask them to join the Headmistress in her tent before dinner. Hermione checked on the baby again, then they went to Minerva's tent.

As soon as they stepped inside, Hermione took one look at her employer and said, "Minerva, I do believe the phrase about the cat and the cream has some relevance this evening."

"Indeed it might, my lass. I am pleased to say that I have found the spell that I believe was used on Mr. Malfoy. It is only a beginning, because I still have no idea how to counter it."

Poppy was there also. "At least now we know where to begin. May we see the spell?"

"Of course. It goes without saying that this is dark magic. Hermione, have you taken the oath not to teach it?"

"Not specifically. I'm bound by my apprentice's oath, of course. But this is far and above that sort of thing. If it would make you more comfortable dealing with something this horrific, of course I'd have no problem whatsoever with being oathbound not to propagate it."

Severus said, "It would be more responsible, I think, if only for Hermione's protection once the Ministry restricts it."

That was soon accomplished, and then the four of them studied the spell. Poppy said, "I'd considered Skele-Gro. Draco certainly has a high enough tolerance for pain to make it a possibility."

Hermione couldn't repress a shudder. "Goddess, I remember the time Harry had to have that."

Snape said, "I've had it myself, it's a few hours rather than weeks. Potter was just a child at the time. But the problem with that, if I understand this spell properly, is that under this curse, the bone no longer renews itself. Under those conditions, Skele-Gro will be useless. The key will be removing the curse."

Poppy took the parchment. She was a very good medical curse breaker, having had plenty of practice during the years of constant feuding between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. She was glad the end of the war had settled that once and for all. Those, however, were rarely anywhere nearly this complex. Corridor sneak attacks had to be short enough not to be interrupted, preferably straightforward enough to be cast silently. There was a good reason why the incantation of a dueling spell was only one or two words. This was a full-blown ritual. "Most people would never be able to cast this abomination without draining their own life-force." She looked up at Snape. "Did you ever know the Dark Lord to form a circle?"

"Most certainly not. He never trusted any of us enough for that. But I would not be at all surprised to find that he drew energy from us through the Mark."

Minerva said, "Fortunately we will not be hampered by any such lack of trust if it takes more than one of us to break the curse. Is this one that will need to be cast in reverse, do you think?"

Poppy said, "I'm not sure. I'll need to study it in much greater detail. Your wards here are already much more than adequate. May I return after dinner to work on it?"

McGonagall replied, "Certainly, Poppy. I welcome the company."

Snape said, "Let me see that again, may I? There are some texts in the restricted section that may just shed some light, now that I know what I'm looking for."

Minerva said, "Excellent. While you're at it--Hermione, could you research Mistress de Granville's Art of Healing for me? I can't recall which volume but I seem to remember a case study involving the healing of a witch who had been hexed with a boneshatter curse."

"Of course, Minerva."

"Right then! Just let me secure this and make sure of my wards."


Draco looked out over the valley below Snape Hall. It was beautiful flying weather and he longed to be out in the wind. Of course, his health wouldn't allow it, and even so, he couldn't leave the wards. He went back to his chair in the library.

After hearing one too many of his complaints about his utter lack of usefulness, Hermione had brought him a stack of Muggle medical journals to research for something called ischemic bone loss. This was apparently very similar to what Voldemort's curse had done to him. The Muggle science went right over his head, but he was doing only a small part of the research.

It all seemed hopeless. It had been one thing for the future to seem hopeless in Marseille, when he had his work in the bustling shop to keep him busy. Here, there was too much time alone to think.

His pocket grew warm. He took out a charmed galleon coin. A message from Tonks formed around the edge, "Light the floo." He did so with little more than a thought.

She and Moody came through. "Wotcher, Draco. Looks like Hermione put you to work!"

"I think I'd go mad if she weren't keeping me busy. Something smells good."

"We were in Muggle London so we picked up some fish."

He put out the floo and they moved to the main hall. Tonks unwrapped the fish.

"I'm surprised you were able to get away on a Friday evening."

"Harry's been in meetings all day and they're still at it. They'll be up till all hours. I escaped," she grinned. "I have one of those horrid society things tomorrow, that's enough."

Draco told her, "You're Harry's eyes and ears at those things, Cousin. You do need to know the politics and you must develop friendships among those ladies, especially those with large dower holdings. They are the true power in their families. It is your duty to speak for Harry in those cases. You must know what he wants you to say."

Tonks ate a chip. "Mum passed before she really had the chance to pound too much of that into my head. It isn't that I embarrass myself, or Harry. But I'm not as aware of some of the details as I could be."

"Gwenhyfar MacDonald and Olivia Newcastle would be good allies. Their families were always firmly on the side of the Light. In any case, they were always staunch enemies of my father. They will know how alliances have shifted since the war. You can do this, Cousin. Ask Madame Weasley to introduce you to Madame Newcastle. Her grandmother was a Newcastle."

"Thank you, Cousin."


Hermione gratefully accepted a glass of pumpkin juice from her sparring partner. "Thank you for the match, Miss Halstrom. I knew you were good, I just don't think I quite appreciated how good."

Diamond's face was flushed with enjoyment as well as exertion. "Thank you, Madame. That truly is a compliment coming from you."

Flitwick said, "Oh, this should be good! Hermione, I believe Aurora has just challenged your husband."

"I've heard she's quite skilled."

"She's excellent."

When Filius turned to speak to Pomona, Diamond whispered, "She won their last match with a lucky hit with a cutting charm. Madame Pomfrey stopped the duel, of course, before someone was seriously hurt."

"I've always thought there might be a history."

Diamond said, "I believe there might be something. Did you know that Professor Sinestra is Slytherin? You would be well served to ask Master Snape about it."

"Say no more, I won't ask you to take rumors out of your common room," Hermione smiled.

"Thank you, Madame."

Hermione watched as Aurora took off her cloak. Diamond explained, "This is a gauntlet challenge. The course is down to the lake and back, if the match lasts that long. Those students wearing red cloaks are the gauntlet. They're free to hex both duelists. I do hope neither of our professors took too many points this week."

"Dear gods, it's a good thing we didn't do this when I was in school," Hermione giggled.

"I don't think I'm taking anything out of the snake pit when I say the rivalry between you and Master Snape is a legend still today."

Filius laughed, "It will remain so when your grandchildren attend Hogwarts, my dear Miss Halstrom! It doesn't hurt those children a bit to try to hex duelists of Severus' and Aurora's skill. You see, they have to hold back so much when sparring with the younger children that the children really don't get a sense of just how outmatched they are. That little Miss LeStrange, though, has a wicked Stinging Nettles hex, and she is an excellent shot. She got me with it this morning."

Pomona said with patently false innocence, "I have a nice aloe salve for that, dear."

Filius nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "I look forward to that, Madame."

Hermione had heard that Pomona and Filius had been married for nearly sixty years. She hoped Severus was still looking at her that way in sixty years.

Her attention was riveted by the start of the match. In theory, on the masters' level all legal magic was permitted. In practice, with children on the course, they would limit themselves to spells without seriously harmful effects unless they were absolutely sure no one could be hit by accident. That changed the entire dynamic.

Hermione and Diamond had been training for real combat, with the objective of ending the fight quickly. The contests were quick, brutal, exhausting. They were currently 20 to 12 in Diamond's favor, no allowances having been made because Hermione was out of condition. Bellatrix and her merry band could hardly be expected to make any such allowances, after all! Hermione was currently keeping an icing charm on a twisted knee, while Diamond was waiting out the shakes that followed a jellylegs jinx. Poppy had ordered them both to the benches for half an hour.

In such a contest, no one other than Minerva would be a match for Severus here at Hogwarts. In this contest, though, it was a matter of skill and agility.

Hermione had come to know several aspects of her husband. First had been the teacher, the person he had somehow managed to be even when the constraints of his cover had forced him to make his students hate him. He had always challenged them, pushed them beyond what they had thought their limits to be. I can't had never been permitted in his classes. Even Neville Longbottom, who would have considered himself hopeless at potions and drifted away under a lesser teacher, had learned enough to be able to move on to his true passion as an herbologist. And now that he was able to cast off the Bat-of-the-Dungeon persona, Severus was bloody brilliant in the classroom.

Then she had slowly come to know the Slytherin warrior. Hermione had first started to "notice boys" about fourth-year. Dear, sweet, impossible Ron Weasley and dark, handsome, rugged Viktor Krum had been her first experiences with puppy love. From them she had learned about crushes and first kisses flavored with butterbeer and long snog sessions in the stairwell--with one eye open for the hall patrols! But she had first experienced a woman's desire one day when she had been organizing the potions storeroom at the HQ and Severus had come in for something, reaching over her for a jar on the top shelf. The scent of sandalwood and leather, the sudden realization that the curtain of hair that fell across his face was not greasy at all but fine and probably silky to the touch--she was not to confirm that for a few years--the sudden awareness that he wasn't skinny under those voluminous robes but rather wiry and hard-muscled like a seeker--the sinuous grace with which he carried himself--that was Severus the man, and she had suddenly learned that the woman in her was a Gryffindor lioness who wanted that man to be the alpha male of her pride. She had been so overwhelmed by the strength of her reaction that she had stepped on his foot and cracked the top of her head on that one shelf that stuck out further than the others. She had been the recipient of one of his snarky comments about that, but there had been no cruelty behind the remark--it had been the kind of banter that he shared with Minerva and a few of the others who didn't judge him by the brand on his arm. And if he noticed she was as randy as a kneazle in heat he hadn't said anything. That was the moment that she had realized one day they would no longer be professor and student.

Then had come the day on the astronomy tower and their terrible sense of betrayal, and Scrimgeour's asinine marriage law, and her decision to make use of it to find out what the bloody hell had really happened up there. And, of course, exact a full measure of vengeance. She had found her answers, of course, but she had also found out exactly what kind of a man Severus Snape was when his back was to the wall and there was no way out. She would never forget how he had looked at her with absolutely no fear in those black eyes and waited for the Unforgivable that they both knew her hatred for her beloved friend's murderer could power. Instead--thank all the gods and goddesses--she had turned aside from that dark path. She had called down the elements to judge between them and let true justice be done. When she was assured beyond doubt that Severus had acted with just cause, she had called down the moon, and for the first time she had celebrated the Great Rite in fact. They considered that to be their true anniversary, when the elements had torn away the sham of the ministry's forced joining and gifted them with an elemental marriage.

After the final battle, she had discovered a caring, gentle side of him. Indeed, she thought he was making that discovery at the same time. She credited the Slytherin orphans and Carrie far more than herself for the changes he had made in that respect. He was determined to be the kind of father he had never had. He was learning how to accomplish that as time went on.

Once again, Hermione saw a new side of the man she'd married. He bowed to the tall, silver-haired astronomy professor, who replied with a curtsey. Instantly the duel began, hexes and jinxes flying silently and often wandlessly from the two opponents, missing by inches or blocked or countered almost instinctively. They moved with grace that was almost a dance, avoiding patterns or repetition that could be used against them.

Hermione could scarcely take her eyes off Severus. He had taken off his coat for freedom of movement, revealing the dark green shirt he had been wearing under it. He positively stalked Aurora, who led him a merry chase down the course. Hermione couldn't help breathing a little faster; the duel was one of the sexiest things she had ever watched.

The kids on the gauntlet had quickly learned they simply had no chance whatsoever of landing anything unless they cast silently and picked their shots. One of the little Gryffindors, William Brown, cast an expelliarmus at Snape. He sidestepped easily, warned by the boy's shouted incantation. But William had teamed up with Penthia, who popped up over a boulder to hit her Head of House squarely in the back with her infamous Stinging Nettles hex. Then she turned and got Aurora as well!

Filius shouted with laughter to see his friends taken in just as cleanly as he had been.

Slytherin that she was, Penthia understood the better part of valor. Even though the contestants weren't supposed to respond to attacks from the gauntlet, she dived for cover anyway.

The kids learned another lesson when both teachers ignored the truly painful effects of the spell and continued the duel. They were having the time of their lives. Through her link with Severus, Hermione deduced that he had far too much adrenaline in his system to worry about the hex right now.

She wanted to be Aurora. She wanted to be there when the victor...whoever that might be...claimed the spoils.

Aurora sidestepped some blue-black curse that Hermione didn't recognize and replied with her cutting charm, now that she had a clear shot and she knew precisely where a miss would go. Hermione gasped as Severus took it in his wand arm. She was a little too well reminded of the near-fatal injury he had taken from Bellatrix the morning they had killed the snake Nagini.

Severus merely switched his wand to his receptive hand and, in the same graceful motion, cast an impedimenta that dropped Aurora flat. Instantly he was over her with his wand at her throat.

"I yield, sir," she replied in a quiet purr that left nothing to the imagination as to what spoils of war he might hope to claim had he not been married.

Severus cast a quick charm to temporarily close the cut on his arm, then helped her up. "Well fought, Professor," he replied, his tone and manner making it obvious that the act was one of respect and courtesy, and nothing more.

She regained her feet gracefully, offering her wand. He tapped it with his own in token acceptance. "Mr. Brown, Miss LeStrange! Five points to each of your houses for your quick thinking! That is precisely the kind of teamwork that can allow you to best use the advantage of numbers. Although, Mr. Brown, I trust you recognize the obvious danger of such a bold Gryffindor maneuver when you do not have the protection of the scarlet cloak?"

"Yes, sir, I'd never have dared break cover like that against you otherwise. All six of us together wouldn't have stood a snowball's chance in a real fight, would we?"

"Certainly not before you learn to cast silently," Snape told the young Gryffindor.

Aurora watched the kids with an undisguised fondness. She yelled as loudly as anyone else about late homework assignments and passing notes in class, but the middle years were her favorites. "Well, I have no doubt what they will be doing with their evenings this week."

"Good," Snape replied. There were Death Eaters still on the loose. Penthia and William were already capable of dealing with the lesser ones such as Pansy Parkinson. Bellatrix herself would think twice about accosting some of the seventh-years. At the least it would be a costly victory. That was a strong defense for them.

Poppy Pomfrey had set herself up a comfortable table and chairs under a tree, where she could read in between patching up cuts and bruises. "That cutting charm again, Severus?"

"You know as well as I do there's no blocking it. If Aurora had cast it seriously I'd likely be shorter by a head right now," he said, calmly recognizing her skill. Rather than fumble with the buttons left-handed he removed his shirt with a silent, wandless spell. The spring air was decidedly chill on damp skin as he sat there in his vest.

Hermione, Diamond, Filius and Pomona had come over from the stands to see how badly he was hurt. Hermione couldn't help drawing a quick breath when she saw it, a deep bloody slash across his shoulder muscle.

Poppy said, "Now, now, Hermione, it's a simple clean cut. Just let me make sure we have a sterile field and I'll have it sealed up in a jiffy. Severus, do you want a pain potion before I start?"

"I promised Filius a rematch and I'll be damned if I'll go into that with my wits fogged."

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "Ha! Go ahead and take it, Sev! I'm in no shape, and you won't be either, once the adrenaline wears off. The rash from that nettles hex smarts like the very devil, never mind a clean cut like that."

"Quite," Aurora affirmed.

Pomona asked, "Have you got any of that aloe salve left that you gave me? I still have plenty left if you don't."

"Thank you, Pomona, that's very kind of you but I still have plenty. Diamond, do you know which we mean, the aloe and menthol?"

"Yes, Master, it's in the small blue pots."

"Fetch about half a dozen; give one to Professor Sinestra and the rest to Madame Pomfrey."

Diamond bowed and hurried to obey.

Snape condescended to take the pain draught, because it would have unnecessarily worried both Hermione if he had not, as well as Poppy's little mediwitchlets. Poppy had decided years ago that if his foolish male ego was going to make treating his frequent minor injuries more unpleasant, she wouldn't waste time arguing with him. He, on the other hand, had learned to save his breath when she simply handed him something without offering him the option to refuse it. They knew one another too well and owed each other their lives too many times over.

Severus let her know when the potion had taken effect. He felt nothing when her soft finite reopened the wound. Her voice took on a lecturing tone as she explained each step of the routine healing to the trio of third-year Hufflepuffs who were assisting her today. Such was her skill that the injury barely left a mark. "Madame, I wonder if you would so readily allow us our entertainment, did we not provide such useful demonstration subjects for your little flock."

The little mediwitches giggled and Madame Pomfrey gave him a look over her glasses.

Aurora maintained perfect Slytherin stoicism even though her hip and leg were really beginning to burn from the nettles spell. All the same, she was grateful when Diamond returned with the salve, and excused herself to the loo to apply some. The pain potion had numbed Severus' back sufficiently that he elected to return to the stands to watch the rest of the matches before bothering with it.

Filius rolled up his shirtsleeve and demonstrated the icing charm that he was using on his to all and sundry. It was simple enough that even the youngest were able to duplicate it easily. The children saw its immediate application to mischief and started casting it under each other's feet, much to their elders' amusement.

The rest of the morning was spent working with the kids. They had the younger ones, budding duelists and would-be mediwitches alike, practicing casting their patronuses. The older ones were working on DADA for their OWLS and NEWTS, with Hermione and Pomona casting some frankly very dark offensive spells so that they could learn the defenses.

Severus knew what Hermione was capable of doing. Neither of them was any stranger to the dark corners of each other's mind. While they respected each other's boundaries too much to pry into the details, in broad terms they knew more or less everything there was to know about one another. Such was the reality of marriage to a legilimens and the reason why they never formed close attachments casually. Hermione had a repertoire of Dark curses from which to choose, and she wasn't afraid to use them if she had no other recourse. It was quite terrifying to hear those same curses from the lips of the gentle little Hufflepuff. Pomona Sprout was kindness incarnate. But when it came to protecting her babies, or teaching them how to protect themselves, the mother badger showed her fangs and claws.

None of the untried children dared let any of that hit, ever. They justifiably feared even a watered-down taste of pure evil.

The young adults among them correctly judged power levels and deliberately weakened their defenses to counter-attack. They took it easy on Pomona, but no one would dare give a Gryffindor less than their best shot. He watched Hermione play to her strengths. She was quick-witted enough to recognize what was coming at her and to remember how to counter it. She didn't usually try to dodge physically unless she had no other choice. She was working out a stance that favored her left leg.

They broke up about an hour before lunch. Some of the sevenths planned to go into Hogsmeade, but this wasn't a traditional Hogsmeade weekend. They were going as an organized group, and exchanging lists so that they could break into teams to do their shopping, and then meet at the Three Broomsticks for dinner. The checked to be sure each team had at least one DA galleon, to be used to summon help in case of emergencies. Once plans were made, they could afford to relax somewhat and enjoy the outing. Severus noticed that Diamond was the leader of the expedition, though she let a couple of Gryffindors take point. It was a good strategy that echoed the Order's tactics.

He and Hermione went back to their tent. The warmth inside immediately set his back itching and burning fiercely despite the potion he had taken. "Penthia LeStrange is going to be a menace when she gets a few more years on her."

Hermione said smiled, "I think they've started to appreciate how Gryffindor and Slytherin traits can complement one another."

Severus only smirked. He stripped to the waist and lay down while Hermione located a jar of the menthol aloe ointment.

When she returned, she saw that his whole back was red and there were several open sores. "Severus! You should have let me tend this earlier!"

"I realized that when I removed my vest."

"Did you have any shields up at all?"

"No, those little terrors timed their ambush perfectly. Aurora had just hit me with a shield-breaker." Some of his justifiable pride shined through the complaint.

"That explains why you got it worse than Aurora did. If Penthia'd been able to get through your shields at her age, the Aurors would have swooped in and signed her up on the spot." She summoned a washcloth and wet it, then gingerly cleaned the sores. "Is it OK to get this salve in an open wound?"

"Yes, it's fine. If you ever use it on a cut or something, you should know it burns a bit at first before the healing properties begin to work, but I tend to think that's a welcome distraction. There's always some near the bench, you know."

"You? Have a workbench accident? Neville would die of shock."

"Hermione, you must never allow yourself to forget that this is dangerous work. Even if you do everything right, an accident can still happen. You must be prepared to cope with it."

They had their various roles well compartmentalized. It was very rarely that they were master and apprentice outside her lessons. But that clearly was a lesson and she took it to heart. The battlefield was not the only place where overconfidence could be fatal. "Point well taken," she replied seriously.

The red welts began to fade almost as soon as she spread the salve over them. She said, "I've been given to understand that I should ask you about some sort of history involving you and Aurora Sinestra."

"That is ancient history and no longer of any consequence."

"I would be perfectly happy to leave it that way, but she's injured you twice. I won't be stumbling around blind so whatever this deep dark secret is can come back and bite me on the arse. For Brigit's sake, Snape, I don't care if you slept with her once upon a time."

"I've never slept with her! It wasn't like--"

Hermione gently pushed him back to the mattress. "Why do I have the feeling that this would be so much simpler if I were a Slytherin?"

"You have no idea. Granger, what goes on within House Slytherin is, for good or ill, a reflection of what goes on in pureblood society. Marriages are often arranged. While infidelity is not permitted, dalliance short of that is commonplace and taken quite for granted. Both husband and wife often have...shall we say...friends of lower social status." He reached out to capture a lock of her hair and wound it around his finger. "When I was a student here I was such a friend of Aurora's. Understand me, Granger; I accuse her of nothing untoward. She never overstepped her bounds as a teacher. Now situations have changed. When I inherited Snape Manor and the title that went with it a few years ago, my status became higher than hers, making her my friend. Neither she nor I intend to ever take advantage of the situation. Aurora's public, harmless flirtation means nothing in context. I doubt it has ever crossed her mind that you were unaware of this. When she and I duel, it is much more an adult pastime than you will usually see in these matches and there will be minor injuries. We both need the challenge to stay at the top of our game. And we both enjoy it. There is nothing more or less involved than that."

"I don't have a problem with anything that's public and harmless." Hermione finished tending his injury, and then she lay down beside him. They had a while before lunch. She looked deep into his eyes and spun out the memory of her reaction to the duel. She heard his breath hitch as he explored her excitement. Maybe they would be late to lunch. No one cared on a Saturday.


That next week went by quickly. Most of their spare time was spent in Minerva's tent, working to break Draco's curse. Hermione worked out several complex arithmantic calculations to determine if they should concentrate their efforts on a spell or a potion. She determined that the latter was the more auspicious line of research. Emilie Vector concurred, after looking over her calculations. That narrowed their research, and created a whole new series of arithmantic problems. By Thursday night, however, they had narrowed it down to a possible recipe.

On Friday afternoon, Severus apparated to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley with a list of ingredients for their first attempt. He placed an order for the items that were not in stock, and arranged to have his purchases delivered to Hogwarts. He still had some time before he had to be back for the evening meal. He decided to stop in Flourish and Blotts Bookstore in search of a gift for Hermione.

There were few people on the street, as most shoppers had gone home but the shopkeepers had not yet shut their doors. A group of small children raced past on their way to the ice cream shop. He stepped out of the Apothecary's doorway--and all he saw was a flash of red light before the world went dark.


Hermione was lying across her bed reading through Monday morning's lesson for her first-years. "Lali, is there tea in the pot?"

"Yes, does Missy want some?"

"Please."

Lali smiled. Missy Hermione was learning to let House Elves be House Elves...but she was kind and courteous about it. She poured the fragrant tea.

Suddenly Hermione cried out.

"Missy? What is wrong? Missy Hermione?"

The witch got herself under control, though she had gone white. "I'm fine. Get the Headmistress, hurry."

"Yes, Missy!" Lali disapparated immediately. Hermione sank back to the bed and started taking deep breaths, pushing her terror down and clearing her mind. Her husband had come to some sort of harm, but she couldn't find him. Momentarily Lali returned with Minerva. Hermione reported the little she knew.

Minerva said, "Go to the Headquarters. I'll send the rest of the Order to you there."

Hermione didn't have to be told twice. She grabbed her cloak and fastened it around her shoulders as she raced for the gate. Without missing a step, she disapparated the instant she cleared the wards.


Following crucio, one's senses faded back in gradually. First was the sensation of anything other than all-encompassing agony. Severus Snape was lying naked on cold hard stones, with icy water running between them. The cold did nothing to help the waves of muscle spasms that still forced low, harsh cries out of him. Hearing, then, had returned as well, although the laughter of his captors still sounded distant and muffled, as if by a privacy charm. Bellatrix and one other...Millicent Bulstrode? The sour scents of sweat and urine assaulted him--no surprise there. Finally the awareness of his magic returned. And there was the soul-deep link with Hermione.

She was terrified, frantic, overwhelmed with relief that he had survived. He tried to send reassurance. If Bellatrix wanted him insane or dead, she wouldn't be allowing him time to recover. That meant he could play for time to be found and rescued. Hermione had been sending him healing energy through their link, and it had spared him the most serious side effects of the curse.

In a sudden panic, he wondered how badly it was affecting Hermione, and fought for enough control to use legilimancy. It wasn't there. Well, he wasn't sure what he had expected. He doubted he could have levitated a feather with his wand in hand at the moment.

Hermione deduced what he wanted. While she could never have got through his shields, he knew her signature well enough to let her through while still instinctively warding everyone else out. For a moment he couldn't manage more than just taking comfort in her presence. "Hermione, how much of that got through?"

"Not enough to worry about, Severus. Of course, you'd have no idea what your shields do during the worst of it. Nothing and I dare say no one could get through. You need to stop worrying about me and just do whatever you must to survive."

Bellatrix toed him in the ribs. She had been watching the muscle spasms tail off, of course, and now she knew he was awake. The kick sent a fresh wave coursing through him, misery compounding misery.

Hermione said, "Let me see around you."

Severus opened his eyes. He was in a small vaulted alcove, chained wrists and ankles to the stone wall. Just out of his reach, Bellatrix and Millicent were standing in the opening. One flickering torch lit the small room. Behind them, the light played over huge old wooden barrels. He had the sense of a large room, but the detail was lost in shadow. It was cold, so cold.

Hermione had to guide him through a wandless, silent warming charm. He was embarrassed about that. She was only concerned that he avoid going into shock or hypothermia, either one was dangerous and the combination could easily be lethal.

Bellatrix made a casual gesture with her wand, and the chains came alive to haul him up spread-eagled against the wall. Then she walked over and traced the wand's tip down his cheek to rest against the pulse point in his throat. When he looked at her, he also saw Hermione's memories of her parents, and hatred drowned out any scrap of fear. He met her eyes impassively, casually daring her to try legilimens, the novice against the master. She was no such fool. She knew he could draw her into a labyrinth from which she would never escape. It would be suicide, of course. She thought he might be willing to sacrifice himself to take her with him.

Severus concentrated on controlling his breathing and calming himself. Hanging from the chains would have been bad enough alone, but with the aftershocks of the cruciatus curse still burning themselves out, it was agony. He felt Hermione's magic working through their link, easing the worst of it, keeping the grinding exhaustion at bay.

Hermione was speaking aloud. He could hear her side of the conversation. He didn't have the strength to reach out into her consciousness and hear the other side of it. That didn't matter. He trusted that Hermione would push the memory out to him if it were something he needed to know. "He's in a brewery. There are stacks and stacks of whiskey barrels... A diagram? Of course, someone give me a quill...It isn't much now, there's only the one torch, but someone's going to have to open a damn door or something... So far, just Bellatrix and Millie Bulstrode."

Overhearing that was encouragement beyond description. The Order knew what was happening, and they were well on the way to staging a rescue. He was not out here alone. If this led to Bellatrix' capture, it would be worth it.

Bellatrix said, "You've got your nerve, traitor, I'll give you that. You always did. But you had to know you'd get what's coming to you eventually."

"Stop acting so smug, Bella. You've got a cozy cell waiting for you any day now. Though I wonder what they'll do with you now that they're out of Dementors. No matter. You won't be far behind me."

She reached out one sharp fingernail to trace the scar of the newly healed slicing hex across his shoulder. He had to struggle to repress a shudder. Bellatrix' appetites had been legendary among the Death Eaters. He was in danger of worse than the cruciatus curse today. "No one has the slightest idea where you are. By the time we dump your body for that homely little wife of yours to find, I'll be long gone."

That was confirmation that she had no idea that he and Hermione were in communication. "Possibly. But every time you come out of hiding, you leave clues. You aren't going to be around long enough for anyone to call you Dark Lady. The only chance you have to so much as survive is to flee to the other side of the world and never put your head up again."

He was walking a fine line, baiting her. He didn't have a choice. He knew Bellatrix LeStrange. She wanted him dead, but more than that, she wanted him broken. She wouldn't be satisfied until he begged her for a quick death. If he wanted to live to see his family again, this was the only way. He kept that firmly in mind until the red light of the cruciatus curse blanked out awareness of everything else.

Hermione swore as Severus' shields cut her off from what was happening in the old brewery. There was enough ghost pain that she could surmise what he was going through, and of course, the drain on her magic through their link spoke for itself.

Moody took her hands. "Steady, lass, you're doing more for him than all of us but you need to focus." The old Auror was a rock, and if he couldn't shelter them from the storm, he could give them a safe anchor. He aligned his magic with Hermione's, offering both his considerable strength and his understanding. Years ago, during the first war, he had been through this at a young Voldemort's hands. Barty Crouch Jr. had resorted to torture, also, when he wanted more information. Moody understood what was needed enough to guide and direct the healing energy in ways that neither of them could--Severus wasn't capable right now, and Hermione couldn't know what would help. On some level, Severus was aware of his presence, and that helped too.

Bellatrix couldn't maintain the curse for as long as Voldemort had, but Severus wondered if those few moments really made a difference. He fell back against the wall, absolutely spent from convulsing in his chains.

"Where is my nephew, Severus? You know I want him more than I want you. I could be persuaded to offer you a quick death."

"Do you really think I'd turn him over to you, no matter what you have on offer?"

"You know as well as I that eventually you will."

"Go to hell."

That had the expected result.

He lost count of how often the cycle repeated--six times? Seven? Without healing magic, he would certainly have been damaged as badly as Draco had been, if not killed. Hermione's presence gave him the courage to drag himself back to full consciousness. Every time he had a brief rest he built a clearer picture of the dark basement, but it still wasn't quite enough for her to apparate safely. It was maddening for both of them.

Finally, someone opened a door, and the open area between Bellatrix and the stacks of whiskey barrels was clearly revealed for the few seconds they required. Hermione needed one more key piece of information. "Severus, are there anti-apparation wards up?"

It was so hard to concentrate, when all he wanted to do was pass out. If he let himself go under, he knew Hermione wouldn't risk splinching anyone else. She'd take her chances alone with a portkey. He made himself focus through a halo of blinding flashes of pain. There was no anti-apparation ward.

Bellatrix was shrieking at him to pay attention to her when she was talking. The curse took him again, this time for only seconds as the room filled with people. He was barely aware of shouting, screaming, and hexes going off in a confined space. Someone disapparated with a loud crack. Then the chains let go and someone was easing him down. Hermione.

"Yes, I'm here. It's over. Rest now."

Moody said, "Hello, here's his stuff. Get him home, we'll see if we can catch any of the rest of them."

Someone spelled him back into his clothes, blessed warmth. A moment later, Hermione disapparated with him.

He must have passed out then, because the next thing he knew it was light. Hermione stopped him from moving around until he had swallowed the combination of potions that eased recovery from the cruciatus curse. "Where are we?" He had screamed his throat raw, but Hermione understood the croaking whisper he got out.

"HQ," she replied. "Don't try talking. We've only been here a few minutes and nobody knows anything yet."

He grabbed her hand. "Bellatrix?"

"I know I hit her with a cutting charm. Moody cast some sort of hex just as Bulstrode disapparated with her. They might both have caught that one. There was a lot of blood. If it was all Bellatrix', it looked to me like it could have been enough to kill her. That really is all I know for sure. Will you let me take care of you now?"

He nodded and lay back. Hermione fussed around him, getting him cleaned up and healing the various injuries he had collected. He'd hit his head on something, probably when someone had stunned him in Diagon Alley. The shackles had torn his wrists up. That would leave scars. And he had a cracked rib--again--from where Bellatrix had kicked him. Still, once again he had escaped with his life.

Molly Weasley brought his freshly cleaned clothes in. "How is he?"

"Fine, it really looks like his wrists are the worst." Now that she was sure he was more or less all right, there was a tremor in her voice. "Is there any word yet?"

Molly shook her head, and cast a diagnostic charm, which confirmed Hermione's estimate. "Nothing definite. Alastor came back for reinforcements and said they've searched the brewery. There were eight or ten people holed up in there but they all got away. If you haven't accounted for Bellatrix, though, you certainly put her in a bad way." Molly didn't sound at all unhappy about that. "Let me know when you think you can keep it down, Severus, and I'll bring you some tea. We need to start getting liquids into you."

There was a clatter downstairs. Molly said, "Idiots! They have better sense!" She went downstairs to quiet everyone. Hermione drew the curtains to let Severus rest.

"Carrie?"

"Mrs. Figg is downstairs watching her," Hermione assured him. "Rest now, Severus. There isn't anything that won't keep till morning."

His hand was shaking badly, but he still managed to capture hers and draw her down to the bed beside him. She settled herself gingerly, knowing how easy it was to set off another wave of pain even a day or two afterwards. Her lips brushed his forehead in the lightest of kisses.

He slept off the worst of it over the next several hours. Hermione woke him once to give him his next potions. Sometime later, when Lali brought the baby up to nurse, he woke up just enough to realize that nothing was wrong. It was well into the next morning before he really surfaced for good.

By then he was feeling quite a bit better. A soak in a hot bath helped even more, with the exception that Hermione had to help with everything. He was used to tremors for up to a week, but never so badly that he couldn't fasten the buttons on his own shirt.

Once he got back to bed, Molly brought him a light breakfast and stayed to be sure he ate it. He would argue with Hermione, but no one dared argue with Molly.

Ron and Syl came in. Ron hugged his mum, she could still smell battle smoke on him. She gave him a long look, assuring herself that her youngest living child was unhurt.

"I'm fine, Mum," he assured her.

Syl said, "Thought you'd want to know, we traced them to some hole in the wall in France. That's where we lost them, but we found another liter of blood there. You gutted the bitch, Hermione. 'Scuse my language, Miz Weasley."

"Don't worry yourself, Auror Beauregard. She's cost us too much to be anything but a bitch under this roof." Molly had been a Hufflepuff in her day, but she'd married a Gryffindor and raised seven more. It was easy to forget that badgers had a mean streak. "Could she still be out there?"

Syl scowled. "My head says probably not, but my gut says we didn't find a carcass. She might have lived, according to our healer, but only if someone dumped blood replenishers down her till they got her put back together. Anyhow, sir, you'll be up and around a long time before she will. The French Aurors are combing the area."

Molly said, "Well, then, even if she is alive, she'll have to go into hiding."

"Sure will, and people on the run make mistakes," Syl replied.

Ron said, "Think twice about trying anything like that again, they will."

That was enough exertion to wear Severus out again. Hermione ushered everyone out. The two Aurors had reports to write before they could shower, eat and sleep.

Hermione asked, "Molly, did you notice the tremors? This is worse, isn't it, than when Voldemort--?"

Molly nodded. "It's an inflammation of the peripheral nerves. That always happens, but this is the worst I've seen for a long while. His hands are worse because his wrists were in those cuffs. Right now the main thing is, he's alive. You and Alastor saved him. In a few days, when the inflammation is gone, we'll know if there's permanent damage. And even if there is, the peripheral nervous system can continue to regenerate over time if the damage isn't too extensive." She shuddered. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this but I suppose we have V-voldemort to thank that Severus has built up a resistance."

Hermione said, "Well, I guess it's good to know everyone is good for something."

"Have you slept?"

"Some. I was too scared out of my wits."

Molly held her close. "No wonder. It's one thing to go into battle knowing what the consequences might be. It's quite another to be kidnapped off the street in what should have been a safe part of Diagon Alley. I'd give anything for this never to have happened. Severus has been through enough. But you listen to me, Ron was right. They won't forget anytime soon what happens when someone attacks your family. If Bellatrix isn't dead, she ought to be, and that was all you. Trust me, you earned their respect today."

"I--I had the killing curse on the tip of my tongue. If there hadn't been a room full of Aurors--Yet, if I had, we wouldn't be wondering if she's still out there--Oh, Molly."

"Don't you dare second guess yourself. What matters is what you did, not what you thought about doing. But, Hermione, all question of Unforgivables aside, what if you'd decided to cast a killing curse, but you'd been too distracted by seeing your husband in such a state to focus the intent? She could have killed you both. You did the right thing to stick to the spell you knew you could cast."

"Yes, that's right, of course."

Molly said, "Go check on Carrie, then you come up here and get some sleep."

Hermione was content to let go and allow Molly to manage everything for the time being. Carrie needed to be fed and bathed and changed, and after that Lali fixed her up a nice little breakfast of tea and scones. Then she slipped off her shoes and crept silently into bed.


That evening, Severus found that he could walk around as long as he was careful, but his hands were still shaking badly. Minerva came to see how he was doing. It was obvious that he could not teach in that state. His voice was still awful, but at least now he could make himself understood.

"It appears that I have complicated things, Minerva."

"Don't go blaming yourself, lad. None of us would have hesitated going into Diagon Alley. LeStrange is the only one who did anything wrong."

"Nevertheless."

"Hermione and I can cover your classes. Aurora will substitute as Head of House. We will enlist the sevenths to deal with your patrols. You are not to worry about it. This was bad enough. I am just thankful it was no worse."

Severus' coping skills had evolved around Dumbledore's support and the quiet haven of his dungeon quarters. He had kept the aftereffects to himself--never this severe--and taught his classes as usual. Everything had been dictated by the needs of his cover story. Nothing had prepared him for the whole Order to turn out, to risk their lives for him. He was not used to having people take care of him and he wasn't sure how to deal with it. "Well then."

She asked, "Will you be here? Or perhaps spend a few days at Snape Hall? I can't imagine walking around from tent to tent would do you any good, and Hermione can apparate back and forth."

"I think I should like to go home for a while," he said softly.

Minerva said, "You do that, lad."


Draco got up from his reading when he heard someone apparate into the courtyard. Paranoia was the order of the day when he was not expecting anyone. He relaxed when he recognized Hermione's voice, and the wards came down with her signature. "Merlin! What happened?" He took Carrie so Hermione could help Severus.

Snape explained, "I let one of Bellatrix' crowd get the drop on me as I was coming out of the apothecary. I was Bella's guest for a while. Stop hovering, Granger, I'm just tired, that's all."

She and Draco exchanged a look. Hermione said, "Well, then, you rest while I get Carrie settled."

Draco summoned the tea set and put extra sugar in a cup. Severus ordinarily took his black, but he sounded like he'd just come off a nine day Firewhiskey bender. "Just drink it, Godfather. I'm rather our resident expert on this sort of thing." There was a lot of Lucius in that arch, dry humor--if one referred to a Lucius without cruelty or self-importance.

Severus growled under his breath, but sipped the tea. Draco asked quietly, "How many?"

"I lost count at five," he replied in the same tone.

"Give it a couple extra days," Draco told him. "It really takes nine or ten in a row before it's permanent."

Snape nodded and finished the tea like the medicine it was. His godson's reassurance went a long way, not that it was in his nature to admit he needed anyone's reassurance in the first place.

He wanted his own bed, but it was up three flights of stairs. He went outside and apparated to the balcony, and got inside. He could hear Hermione down the hall in the nursery, singing Carrie to sleep, some Muggle lullaby that he didn't recognize. He wanted to stay there and listen, but his weariness betrayed him. Too tired to do anything else, he spelled his clothes off and dropped them on a chair. The sheets were cool and the room quiet. He was asleep almost immediately.


Hermione wakened to a harsh scream and sat straight up in bed, only to get whacked across the chest by a flailing arm. "Severus! What the bloody hell?" She woke up completely when she figured out it was a nightmare. Both of them had them on occasion. She doubted that anyone who had been through the war didn't. She knew better than try to touch him, so instead she just talked in a quiet voice, giving him a lifeline to follow back to reality. After a couple more minutes, he woke up, fighting for breath.

"Hermione?"

"I'm here. It's all right."

"What's wrong?"

"You just kind of knocked the wind out of me."

"I hit you?"

"You weren't trying to hit anyone. You were just thrashing around and I happened to be in the way. Are you all right now?"

"Yes, I--are you sure you aren't hurt?"

She cast a dim lumos and pulled up her nightgown. It looked like there might be bruises developing. She did away with them with a silent pass of her wand. "Nothing to worry about. Feel like talking about it?"

"I see no point, since you were there, for all intents and purposes," he replied.

"True enough."

"By the gods, I'll not live my life in fear of that whore! It was tiresome enough the first time through, without reliving it every time I close my eyes. I cannot count the times I have suffered the cruciatus and worse at the Dark Lord's hands. Why should I make so much of this?"

Hermione said, "It's fresh in your mind. And it came as a surprise--those other times you were able to prepare yourself."

He nodded. That was logical. Given time, he would put this behind him just as he had every other horror that he had experienced. "It would be best if you found another bed until I am safe to be near," he told her regretfully.

"'That whore' will not chase me out of my own bed, or away from my own husband. Open our link before we sleep, so you'll be aware of me."

"And get you caught in my nightmares with me? I would never ask you to do that."

"You haven't asked," she said gently. "I would never have asked you to share mine, but you have many times. You've banished them for me without my asking. You've healed me of so many awful things. I can remember good times with my parents now without falling apart thinking how they died. How long would that have taken without your help? Let me repay my debt and help you heal yourself."

He lay back and pulled her close. "You know that it would be dishonorable of me to refuse you the chance to discharge a debt."

"We couldn't have that," she replied, with a patently false gravity.

He touched on their link and cast a wandless, silent legilimens. She welcomed him into the warm brightness that was her inner self and together they drifted into sleep. Her mere presence was enough that the dreams left him in peace for the rest of the night.

That night was a turning point. From then on, with each day that passed, Severus grew stronger and the tremors subsided. By the time they returned to Hogwarts at the end of the next weekend, Severus was well enough to begin brewing Draco's potion.

Although every Auror in Europe was looking for her, no trace was found of Bellatrix LeStrange or of her gang. Things settled into an uneasy equilibrium. People did not allow the chance that she might be "out there" stop them from living their lives. Yet no one was blind to the possibility. Regardless, the days lengthened, and another spring came to Hogwarts.

TBC