A/N: Well, pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet! I hope you enjoy! :) Actually, I came to the revelation yesterday that your reviews and follows and favorites are like catnip to my soul—make what you will out of that
The second time the four students found themselves situated in Snape's office, it was at a much more reasonable hour. Hermione watched, bewildered, as Snape paced back and forth in front of them; the three boys crammed next to her on the couch wore identical expressions of unease at the sight.
"What's happened?" Draco finally demanded after a few minutes of the muffled sound of boot heels clacking on rug-covered stone.
Snape finally collapsed elegantly into his armchair. Hermione marveled silently at his ability to seem in control even when he was clearly agitated. Even as Snape sprawled himself—one arm up and behind the back of the chair, the other resting on one of his splayed legs—she could sense that the boys were nervous but confident that Snape had a solution. Unfortunately, she was not as assured; she suspected that this was related to whatever Snape had witnessed during his meeting with Voldemort a few weeks back. However, Hermione had refrained from mentioning anything to the boys for fear of their Occlumency not being up to scratch.
"Before I begin, I need to test Weasley and Granger's Occlumency," Snape said quietly. He suddenly straightened properly then leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and dark eyes boring into each one of them. Hermione met his gaze calmly. "This information cannot go beyond the people in this room. I am only going to discuss the bare minimum with you so that you are informed; anything more could be a great risk."
Hermione was fairly confident in her Occlumency ability now, and she was proud of the progress Ron had made as well; they had practiced together while Harry and Draco had snuck off. Ron had been rather oblivious, or perhaps purposefully ignorant, of the developing relationship between their best friend and the Slytherin, but it was all up in the air now as Harry had come clean to them earlier that day. In addition, he had gone over his talk with Snape that previous night:
"Bloody hell, mate, who woulda saw that coming?!" Ron had exclaimed.
After Snape cast Legilimency on each of them, he nodded to himself. "While I do not believe that any of you have the talent to become particularly useful double spies," he said dryly, "your skills are sufficient, albeit as subtle as the Headmaster's sense of fashion, to protect your thoughts."
"Now," Snape continued, "The Dark Lord has been attempting to find a way to remove a Muggleborn witch or wizard's magic."
Silence pervaded the room at his blunt statement.
"He has also just about taken over the Ministry."
…
To everyone's evident surprise, Hermione was the first to express her horror.
"Fuck." Her magic was a part of her. If Voldemort was able to take away her magic...
Snape snorted. "In a word, yes, Granger, I think that about sums it up."
"What can we do?" Harry asked solemnly.
"For the moment? Not much," Snape replied, lips pursed thinly. Hermione knew that was not the answer Harry wanted to hear. "However, I am interested to know if anything noteworthy has transpired amongst your peers."
"Why, Severus," Draco said with a grin, "are you asking us to catch you up with the latest Hogwarts gossip?"
Hermione was impressed that Draco Malfoy, of all people, was the one attempting to lighten the mood. Of course, he was also the one most comfortable speaking his thoughts in Snape's presence without fear of retribution. Snape still shot him a glare at the casual use of his name, though.
"It's funny you ask," Draco prattled on in what she now recognized as his best imitation of Pureblood socialites—Harry enjoyed regaling her and Ron with the blond's stories about Narcissa Malfoy's tea parties. "Pansy and Theo have been dating for a few weeks now. Almost as long as Harry and I have been, actually."
Harry coloured at that but seemed pleased that Draco was willing to discuss their relationship so openly.
"I believe I also heard a rumour of Blaise and Lavender Brown being caught on the third floor by a certain tall, lanky, angry fellow."
Snape rolled his eyes. Hermione felt like he did that a lot in Draco's presence.
"They hadn't even made it to an alcove before losing half their clothes," Snape retorted. "And I don't believe Miss Brown ever retrieved her bra from around the head of one of the knight statues."
Ron couldn't hold back a chortle, and Hermione elbowed him in disgust. On their other side, Harry elbowed Draco far more insistently.
"Something you need to tell me, Draco?" Snape asked, eyebrow raised, as Harry continued to prod at Draco's side.
Draco coughed and glared at his boyfriend. "Not that it's a big deal, but a few of the Slytherins seem to be catching on to the fact that I've been sneaking out of the common room."
"It's only a matter of time until someone somehow finds out," Harry took over. "It's dangerous. Voldemort wouldn't be happy to hear about it."
Snape grimaced and nodded. "You are correct, Harry. What do you propose we do then?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes thoughtfully when Harry straightened at Snape's words. While Harry had initially been willing to listen to Snape simply because there was no other option to discuss Order business with, now he appeared to genuinely value and respect the man's opinion.
And Snape had called him Harry. She was fairly certain that had never happened in the past seven years they'd attended Hogwarts. She was impressed at how well their talk must have progressed to have them speaking so civilly with each other.
"I did have an idea, actually, but I wanted to run it by you first," Harry said, slightly hesitantly. "I was thinking Draco could act like he's befriending me because he knows that he'll get closer to Dumbledore this way—which isn't even really a lie."
Snape traced the outline of his lips pensively. "It could work… I would have to show the Dark Lord my own memories and observations… But along with reports from some of the Slytherins to their parents… Yes, it could work," he murmured, almost as if to himself.
Snape stared intently at Draco, mind apparently made up. "You must manage this very carefully, Draco. Your Occlumency is good, but if the Dark Lord has reason enough to suspect you of something and search, he will easily find his answers in your mind."
"I know," Draco said quietly. "It should be enough to keep him satisfied for now, though."
"Yes, I believe it will. Well done." Dark eyes swept from ice blue to emerald green.
Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron and, though she felt mildly left out of the exchange, she could see that the happy spark in her eyes at Harry's newfound peace of mind was reflected in Ron's gaze.
"You know, the goblins could've easily ended the second revolution earlier if they hadn't spread their resources so thin by trying to accomplish everything at once…" Ron mumbled under his breath.
Hermione snorted as she fondly watched her red-haired friend painstakingly cover the readings required for their History of Magic essay. While the goblin revolutions would never truly catch his attention, he had taken to honing his strategic ability through analyzing past wars and playing chess against the Room of Requirement.
Meanwhile in the Head Girl's room, Harry was laboring over a five-feet long essay due in Healing the next day.
"Bugger me," he exclaimed. "Good thing you're the designated healer here, Hermione, because I'm pretty sure my patients would be better off being treated by Hagrid's half-brother—there's so many things you need to keep track of!"
Hermione grinned and shook her head ruefully.
Suddenly, Draco burst through her portrait door, hair uncharacteristically in disarray and eyes frantic.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked immediately, standing to close the door and lead Draco to her couch. She had given him her password in case of an emergency, but they'd agreed that even if he was considered 'friends' with Harry, it would be risky to let people see him frequently cloistered away with the three Gryffindors.
Harry frowned in alarm and hurriedly went to Draco's side, gently prying the crumpled letter from a white-knuckled fist.
"It's from my father." Draco's voice barely rose above a whisper. "Read it."
Harry cleared his throat, not bothering to mask his concern. "Dear, Draco: How is school so far? Your mother hopes you enjoyed the biscuits she sent you last week. Please do inform Severus that he missed our regular dinner together; I expect him to arrive tomorrow with a glorious bouquet of flowers to placate your mother. Yours, L.M." Harry looked up. "I'm sorry, what's the problem here?"
"You don't understand," Draco said insistently. "They don't have a regular dinner time. Every now and then, my mother convinces my father to haul Severus to the manor and force him to socialize with them."
"Your father's worried about something," Hermione stated, catching on. "Something's wrong with Professor Snape."
"Yes, and he must be really worried to contact me about it. This isn't normal at all. Usually he'd Floo into Severus's rooms himself."
"Alright, what should we do?" Harry asked once he overcame his confusion.
"I've got a meeting with him in a bit to continue my healing lessons. I could try and pry it out of him then," Hermione said tentatively.
"Do you reckon it's got something to do with Voldemort's plan to rid Muggleborns of their magic?" Ron, still seated on the floor and surrounded by homework, was deep in thought and apparently brainstorming out loud. "Snape's a Potions Master—maybe Voldemort wants him to make a potion that could do that."
"Weasley," Draco said in a surprised tone, "you may be on to something."
Ron snorted and ignored the blond's teasing. "But why would your father be worried about that? Other than the mass chaos that a potion like that could cause."
"Well, I can't imagine Voldemort would be best pleased if Professor Snape didn't show up with anything notable," Hermione said dryly. "And Snape's your godfather, isn't he, Draco?"
"Severus and my father are good friends," Draco confirmed softly.
"Hang on," Harry interrupted. "First we've got to confirm if what we're thinking of is even right—we best not ought to do anything till Hermione can get a better idea of what's happening."
Hermione grimaced, realizing that they were counting on her questionable-at-best ability to get through to Snape. She couldn't imagine she could talk the man's ear off to ensure his submission.
Ron blinked. "Wow, mate, you almost sound like you've actually thought that through. And here I was thinking I'm the master strategist," he joked.
This time, Harry snorted and ignored the bait. "Snape's an alright bloke—he's been helping us all out well enough, hasn't he? And he's important to Draco, so we've got to go about this right."
"Thank you, Harry," Draco murmured, bestowing a brief kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. Having recovered from his initial panic, Draco straightened imperiously. "Alright, Granger, you're going to need some tips if you're going to get any information from Severus."
Fiddling nervously with the edge of her skirt, Hermione finally gathered the courage to grab a handful of Floo powder from her mantle. Behind her, Ron was fanning himself exaggeratedly.
"My hero," he pretended to swoon and Hermione would've smacked him upside the head if he was within reach.
"It'll be alright, Hermione," Harry encouraged. "He obviously needs help, and if anyone can make him see reason it's you."
Hermione took in a breath and cast a quick glance at Draco, who was valiantly attempting to hide his worry. She could do this. While this wasn't exactly what she had in mind, hadn't she promised herself that she'd help ease her professor's suffering?
"Well, if you're going to wait for me here, you might as well finish your homework," she said as bossily as she could before floo'ing herself to Snape's quarters.
Hermione stumbled out of the Floo and almost collided with Snape's armchair. Thankfully, the man sitting in the chair was able to deftly catch her elbow before she could sufficiently bruise herself on the furniture. Whose brilliant interior decorating advice had he followed to have an armchair almost blocking the Floo? Then she realized that he'd probably done it on purpose, just to be difficult.
"Professor," she greeted him sheepishly once she'd regained her bearings.
"Miss Granger," he returned in kind. "I've been debating on how to continue these lessons and have come up with a few options—since you know yourself best, I will allow you to decide which avenue seems the most beneficial to your learning."
She nodded, inwardly pleased that he was treating her more as an equal; for a few nights, she had been irrationally worried that these lessons would be a parody of Harry's Occlumency sessions.
"I've more Pensieve memories that you could view; these would be more demonstrative of counter curse uses than the previous memories I showed you. Alternatively, we could begin some more practical applications using Madame Pomfrey's practice mannequins."
Hermione pursed her lips as she contemplated her options. While it would be helpful to watch memories of counter curses being cast, she was sure that she could just as easily learn the technique from Snape's own instructions. His memories were fascinating and offered a new perspective on her Potions professor, but Hermione was conscious of the sacrifice to his privacy. Even if it was his idea, she didn't think it was right to take advantage of the fact.
"I think the mannequins should be fine," she decided. Then she remembered what Draco had told her and hurried to spit out her rehearsed line before Snape could leave. "We were thinking, sir, that we could also help find a way to protect Muggleborns' magic from whatever Voldemort is planning."
Hermione somehow managed to hold her nerve as she maintained eye contact with the man. She was struck by the contrast between his sharp, glittering eyes and the sallow skin that clung pitifully underneath them. He couldn't be getting much sleep, based on the bags under his eyes.
"It would be best if I did not have to worry about you and your posse being caught in the library with books related to ancient, illegal magic," Snape said, his tone unyielding. "If one of the Death Eaters' children found out and reported it back to Voldemort…"
"We'd stay in the Room of Requirement, sir. If they did see us, they would never know what we were doing. And we've plenty of time, really. Harry is only busy when the DA is in session, and I've not been able to practice much from our counter curses anyway. I mean, Ron's pretty busy learning about strategy but he was never great at research. In any case, it would give us something useful to do, sir."
Snape shook his head. "You would be much more convincing, Miss Granger, if I didn't know that Draco had handfed you every line." He smiled wryly. "It was almost a convincing argument, too, if you hadn't left out Draco. I know you would have included him."
She scowled. She knew she shouldn't have listened to the blond, but he'd been adamant that Snape would be more willing to agree if he thought that Draco wasn't involved.
"Besides, you would not have asked for my permission to do research—which I'm sure you were planning on doing anyway—if you didn't want something from me."
Huffing in annoyance, Hermione abandoned Draco's advice altogether. "Fine, yes, I had plans to do my own research on the subject—you can hardly blame me, though, since I would be directly affected if Voldemort is successful."
Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement.
"Look, we are interested in finding a way to protect Muggleborns—that much was true. But Draco—and the rest of us—are worried that Voldemort's asked you to help with this. We can help," she said earnestly. "You shouldn't have to do this alone."
He stared at her for so long that she began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open.
Her leg bounced impatiently. "If you don't want to tell us any details about whatever is happening, that's fine, but we can do other things. I can mark papers. Anything to lessen your workload."
"I do not require your services, Miss Granger."
Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation and walked over to poke him aggressively in the chest.
"Listen, Snape, you've helped us so much—don't look at me like that, you really have. Harry's finally in better spirits, Ron feels like he's got a purpose, and Draco knows you're protecting him from Voldemort. But you've obviously not been taking care of yourself since you look like a living Inferius!"
"Is that an oxymoron?" Snape asked mildly.
She was so frustrated that she could only growl back. Could the man not accept their help and move on?
Seeming to finally register that Hermione was still jabbing incessantly at his bony chest, Snape grabbed her offending finger.
"Granger," he began softly, almost delicately. If she hadn't witnessed that same tone after seven years in his classroom, she would have thought that she had won. As it was, Hermione tensed and attempted to pull her finger out of his grasp. "What makes you think that I want your help?"
"I don't give a toss if you want it or not, but you clearly need it!" she shouted at him. "Merlin, why are you being so bloody stubborn?" She finally wrenched away from his hold and crossed her arms.
He took a menacing step toward her, his mouth twisted in a snarl. "Granger, I helped you and your infernal friends so that they would not run off and do something incredibly stupid. The whole point was to give you something to do to stay out of trouble, but apparently that was not sufficient since the four of you have decided to shove your sentimental noses WHERE THEY DO NOT BELONG."
"Hey! Where are you going?!" Hermione asked indignantly as Snape stormed away.
"To retrieve your bloody mannequin," he growled. She winced at the force with which he slammed the office door.
"Stubborn effing arsehole," she fumed under her breath, unable to stop herself from pacing as she waited for his return. "Just wait till he gets back…"
The sound of a throat clearing stopped her in her tracks. She glanced around for Snape but found the room unnervingly empty.
Whipping out her wand, Hermione called out nervously, "Who's there?"
"Ah, I do hope I'm not interrupting something. Would you mind terribly bringing Severus over from whatever corner he's sulking in right now? I must discuss a matter that is of the utmost importance, I assure you, madame."
Hermione trodded suspiciously to the fireplace, where she could vaguely make out a familiar-looking head amongst the flames. It almost appeared to be Draco, but that hadn't been Draco's voice…
"Lucius Malfoy?" she asked cautiously. Brilliant. As if one stubborn, mule-headed professor-cum-Death Eater wasn't enough.
A pause. "Hermione Granger?" he asked in surprise. "What the devil are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same of you," she replied stiffly. She may trust Draco, but she was still wary of his father.
"Where is Severus?" He ignored her. "Step aside. I'm coming through."
Bugger. Bugger. Shite. How had everything gone so pear-shaped tonight? She did not want to be alone in a room with Lucius Malfoy. Draco's father or not, she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him.
The elder Malfoy arrived through the Floo much more gracefully than she had. He gazed at her with mild interest.
"Professor Snape stepped out for a minute. He should be back soon," she said politely—or at least, she hoped. It was disconcerting standing in her professor's sitting room with Malfoy Sr. looming above her. Hermione rather wished Draco was with her.
"That's quite alright," Malfoy said as he sat in Snape's armchair. He brushed invisible lint off the arms. "Hmm, this chair is rather worn now, isn't it? Perhaps he needs a replacement for Christmas…"
Hermione didn't deign to respond, instead settling herself across from Malfoy, her wand still in hand. Well, this is awkward.
Glittering blue eyes surveyed her more carefully this time and he raised an eyebrow. She tried to distract herself from the unwanted situation by cataloging the behavioral similarities between Snape and Malfoy.
A gaze that could freeze Medusa, good eyebrow acrobatics, sits like some kind of royalty, acts like they're better than everyone else…
She wondered how many traits Snape had picked up from Malfoy, or vice versa.
"You're Harry Potter's friend." Malfoy broke the silence.
"I am."
"And Draco's?" The blunt question caught her off guard.
"Er, yes, I'd like to think so, sir."
Malfoy's mouth quirked up at one side, eerily similar to Snape. Then he threw back his head and laughed and the illusion was gone.
"There's no need for that, my dear. Call me Lucius—or Mr. Malloy if that is too much for you. A friend of Draco's is a friend of mine. Though, may I ask what Severus has done to have you in such a snit?"
Hermione found her previous anger had morphed into petulance. "It may have been related to a certain letter you sent Draco… We just wanted to help," she pouted.
"Ah." Malfoy was looking at her with renewed respect, though she couldn't fathom why, considering she'd just sulked like a child. "That is what I am here for as well, actually."
Hermione considered Malfoy's neutral expression. Well, if she couldn't convince Snape by herself… "Alright, what's your plan?"
Malfoy smiled wickedly and she was struck with another thought that she desperately shoved to the back of her mind.
I do not find Draco's dad attractive. I do not find Draco's dad attractive, she chanted to herself, almost missing what the man in question was even saying.
"Severus is very proud and very hard-headed," Malfoy began. "But inside, he's as soft as a Hufflepuff—I know that may be difficult to believe, but trust me."
I do not find Draco's dad attractive—hang on, trust him? She wagered she probably trusted him as far as she could hex him, now. A moderate improvement from throwing him.
"Oddly enough, I gathered that he rather liked you and your uncouth friends." Malfoy smirked winningly to lessen the insult.
Not. Attractive.
"He's probably acting under some misguided attempt to protect you from the horrors of the world. Again—Hufflepuff."
"Then what were you so worried about?" Hermione asked once she recovered her voice.
Before Malfoy could answer, Snape's voice carried from his office.
"Who are you talking to, Granger?" Snape asked, not sounding particularly friendly. Apparently his trek to the Hospital Wing had not cured his foul mood. "Really, I'd have thought you'd moved past the imaginary friend phase—Lucius?"
Snape returned and tossed the mannequin at her, mouth curled down in displeasure. "What is going on here?" he demanded.
Malfoy cast a sideways glance at Hermione and winked in a mischievous manner that reminded her of Draco. Well, now she knew where the younger Malfoy got it from.
"Severus, Severus," he purred. "You've not returned any of my letters and you missed dinner. Narcissa is quite upset with you."
"I've been rather busy, unfortunately. Now if you've nothing useful to say, kindly leave so I can assign Miss Granger a month's worth of detention."
Hermione's eyes widened and she stared beseechingly at Malfoy to help her.
"Now, that's no way to treat a friend," Malfoy protested. "As a matter of fact, I have it on good authority that this information would interest you greatly."
Snape raised an eyebrow challengingly. Hermione fancied that he pulled it off better than Malfoy did.
"It may not be for—young ears," Malfoy said, glancing uncertainly at her.
Snape seemed unconcerned. "She knows. Get on with it, Lucius."
"Very well," Malfoy conceded. "Of course, if you weren't avoiding me and being so bloody difficult, I could have saved you the trouble."
Malfoy seemed to be building steam and Hermione shrinked back as the blond stood abruptly to glare at Snape on level terms. She was reminded that she was unfortunately in the middle of two powerful and angry wizards.
"I wasn't avoiding you," Snape argued sourly.
Malfoy continued as if Snape hadn't spoken. "I didn't convince the Dark Lord to include you in his affairs so that you could get yourself killed! For god's sake, Severus, I thought it was important for you to know but it's hardly worth it if you're going to show up to the Dark Lord empty-handed!"
"Who says I've not come up with anything?" Snape countered, though he slumped with an air of defeat.
"So he has asked you to make a potion!" Hermione interrupted.
"I thought you said she knew?" Lucius questioned, momentarily distracted from his ire.
"Well, it was an educated guess," Hermione confessed. "We could have helped, you know!" she added righteously.
Snape whirled to face her. "It is not your concern!"
Snape looked ready to storm out again, and Hermione pointed her wand at him to stop him. At that, Malfoy intervened.
"Miss Granger, would you give us a moment, please?" he asked smoothly, stepping between Snape and her wand.
Hermione huffed until she realized she'd almost hexed a teacher. Bugger. Tears of frustration and anger prickled at her eyes and she wordlessly brushed past Malfoy and Floo'd to her room.
Hermione stepped back into the familiarity of her room and couldn't help but smile at the sight before her while she wiped her eyes. Harry and Draco had fallen asleep leaning on each other on her couch, and Ron was sprawled across her rug snoring. She didn't have the heart to wake them, so seated herself at her desk and brought her knees to her chest. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but she didn't notice as she contemplated the disaster of her night.
It was so confusing! Snape had been the one who had agreed to keep them informed since he did not agree with the Order withholding information from them. He clearly did not include his own troubles in that stipend, the stubborn prat. Could his vehemence truly be borne simply from his pride? Surely there must be a different reason.
But as Hermione sat, unmoving, and the minutes ticked away, she couldn't seem to devise a plausible reason for his behavior.
The fire stirred, and Hermione glanced over to see Snape's face outlined in the flickering flames.
"Miss Granger—ow, bloody hell, Lucius!" He cleared his throat. "Hermione, may I have a word?"
She quickly checked that the boys were still sleeping then disentangled herself from her position at her desk. "Alright," she said warily.
"Come through the Floo, please."
For the second time that night, Hermione stood nervously before her fireplace and took a deep breath.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I actually had a question for all my wonderful readers: I read an SS/LV fic a little while ago and I can't for the life of me remember what it's called. I remember Snape was not much of a fan of Bellatrix and eventually him and LV were bonded or something? That might be in the sequel, to be honest. But Snape starts having dreams where Voldemort ends up dying in all of them and if anyone can help me I'd greatly appreciate it!