A/N: We're already about halfway through this fic. Shocking, isn't it?

Disclaimer: I don't own it; I just love it.

Eleven

The first day of term, Hermione walked up to the school through Hogsmeade. She had sealed off the Whomping Willow tunnel, as the last thing she needed was someone bursting through her living room floor. She also didn't fancy crawling through the tunnel while pregnant.

At the feast, she sat between Neville and Oliver Wood. Remus shot her a small smile and Minerva looked pleased to have her top student back in the school. When Dumbledore announced the new staff members, the Gryffindors whooped and cheered. With Hermione, Neville, and Wood on staff, in addition to Minerva and Remus, it gave the Gryffindors a definite advantage in the running for the House cup. Hermione could feel the pairs of curious eyes on her and she wanted nothing more than to get out of the Great Hall as soon as possible.

Hermione refused to stay at school overnight. She couldn't sleep in those quarters again without Severus. They were his rooms, his office, not hers. Being in his classroom without him would be difficult enough. She would not subject herself to the pain of seeing his empty, dusty rooms and remembering.

Her first class was a group of first years, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. She looked down at them from behind the desk. Had she been this small and terrified when she was a first year? She didn't remember it being so.

They looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes. She knew her decision to run this class the same way Severus had would only terrify them more.

"I am Professor Snape," she felt unbelievably odd saying that, "and this is Potions. I hardly expect all of you to appreciate the subtle art of Potion making, but some of you may possess the necessary skills." If she had thought she could do it, she would have repeated Severus' first speech, but somehow that was his. She couldn't take it. "Potions can be dangerous, therefore I will not tolerate any foolishness in this classroom. No one will speak out of turn and, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us, Miss" she consulted her seating chart, "Jacobs?"

The blonde girl in the middle row went violently pink, "I thought Professor Snape was a man," she whispered, her voice shaking, "That's what my brother told me."

"Professor Severus Snape is incapable of teaching this class this term, so you'll have me." Hermione said coolly, "Open your textbooks to page five and read the first chapter. If you do not finish in the time allotted you will read this chapter for homework. We will be starting our lesson on Basic Skills and Techniques next class. I expect you all to be prepared."

The students below sixth year did not question her authority. It was the sixth and seventh years that caused problems.

"Hullo, Hermione," Colin Creevey said upon entering the classroom.

"Mr. Creevey, you will address me as Professor Snape." She said harshly. Colin's eyes widened in surprise and he dropped into his seat looking rather offended. Ginny sat next to him and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

The Slytherins that filed in shot her dirty looks. Hermione wondered why, when making up the schedules, Albus always insisted on pairing the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the most dangerous classes: Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, flying for the first years, and N.E.W.T. level Potions. It seemed as if Dumbledore was asking for conflicts to occur in high altitudes, in the presence of violent creatures, or while brewing poisons.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" She questioned them, an eyebrow arched in a fairly good imitation of Severus' expression.

"Well, yes, actually, there is." One of the boys sneered, "I hardly think as a Mudblood and a teenager you're qualified to teach this class."

"Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Nott. It is not for you to decide whether or not I am qualified to teach." Hermione glared at Anderson Nott. His older brother, Theodore, had been in Hermione's year. She had never heard Theodore say more than two words together and could only vaguely remember what he looked like. It appeared Anderson, however, was going to pose a problem in this class.

"Obviously not. If it were, you wouldn't be here." Anderson scowled.

"Another ten points, I think, Mr. Nott." She turned away from him to address the whole room, "You are all familiar with how this class was run before and nothing will change in that respect."

"Except you'll be favoring Gryffindors."

"Detention, Mr. Nott," Hermione scowled before moving on, "This year you will be continuing your N.E.W.T preparations. I expect a high caliber of work in this class. You are old enough to handle yourselves in a respectable manner, and I will not coddle you. Don't blow anything up, poison anyone, or melt anything and we shouldn't have any problems."

Hermione began to realize why Severus was more often cranky than not. Teaching was exhausting. She found her patience wearing thin and her temper rising. Especially with students like Anderson Nott, who had a sneering reply to everything. By the end of October, she'd already given him eight or nine detentions.

The tenth she rather cruelly assigned to him on Halloween, so he was denied the privilege of going to Hogsmeade. He scrubbed cauldrons with a toothbrush, finishing just in time for the feast.

"I'd like a word before you go, Nott."

He stood grudgingly in front of her desk.

"I am growing tired of these antics. I do not want to continue giving you detentions. It is a waste of my time. I'm six months pregnant and exhausted by the time dinner rolls around. I'd much rather go home than sit here with you. I'm sure there are things you'd much rather be doing, as well, or I could always hand you over to Mr. Filch."

"You could just stop giving me detentions."

"The detentions don't stop until you learn to hold your tongue."

"Can I ask you something? Who put that pole up your ass? You're barely two years older than the seventh years and you're the most uptight person we've ever seen. You need to relax."

"That will be another detention, I think. And before you make your judgments about me, consider the fact that I am facing the birth of my first child, with a missing husband, and I'm spending my days with a bunch of ungrateful students like yourself who put no effort into their work and treat me with disrespect." She regarded his somewhat sheepish face, "Why don't you try living that life for awhile and tell me you aren't a little uptight?"

"Er…"

"Just go, Mr. Nott. I will see you again for detention next Friday."

--

November passed quickly in a blur of miserable weather. Late in November, Hermione caught a cold and was forced to stay home for a week. She spent much of that time missing Severus more than ever, especially since Kingsley had Flooed to tell her the department had officially dropped the case. Her sleep was fitful and plagued with nightmares.

Severus shivered. The dungeons below Malfoy Manor (for he had realized their location quickly after Lucius' first visit) were colder and damper, and he could only assume that meant it was winter. By now, the Aurors would have given up searching.

"Weasley," he hissed. Percy groaned; he'd long since given up escaping their cage. Instead he chose to wish for death.

"Weasley you useless lump."Severus aimed a kick at the younger man, who recoiled in pain.

"Bloody hell, Snape, what do you want?"

"I know which cage this is."

"Would you like an Order of Merlin," Percy sneered. Captivity made him cranky and irritable, while it motivated Severus. He knew he needed to escape and he knew he could find away if he thought long enough. Lucius was not as intelligent as he, there would be a flaw somewhere and Severus would find it.

"Lucius bought Draco a baby giraffe for his third birthday. Unfortunately, the animal arrived earlier than planned so Lucius kept it down here so he could surprise Draco with it. Lucius didn't realize the thing would grow so quickly and he got tired wasting precious money for its food so he left it down here to starve."

"So? He's a bastard. We've known that all along."

"Don't you see? He'll do the same to us if he gets bored with sending us food and water." Severus warned.

"At this point, I welcome death."

"Do you?" Lucius stepped closer to the cage. "I admit, I thought you'd last longer, Weasley. You must not be as stubborn as your father and the rest of your blood-traitor siblings. I hoped for a full year at least. No matter. I can kill you now."

And he did. With a flash of green light, Percy Weasley was gone.

"Excellent job with the giraffe connection, Severus. I had a feeling you'd catch on soon. Fortunately for you, I am not bored yet."

He swept out of the dungeon, leaving Severus to listen to the water drip and the rats scuttling on the stone floor. Severus gripped one of the iron bars tightly in his fist, feeling fifteen years' worth of rust beneath his fingers. And then, the idea he'd been waiting months for came to him…

Hermione's eyes snapped open. Her heart raced and she could feel her hands shaking. She kicked the covers off and walked toward the fireplace. Despite how uncomfortable she knew it would be to crouch on the cold floor with her head in the fireplace at seven months pregnant, she Flooed Kingsley.

"Afternoon, Hermione." He said, a wary expression on his face.

"Kingsley did you check Malfoy Manor?"

"First place we looked."

"Did you look in the dungeon or the basement?"

"Isn't one," Kingsley grunted, "Why?"

"I just had a hunch."

"A hunch?"

"A nightmare," when she said it out loud, it sounded unbelievably foolish. "But it was so real." Her lip trembled.

"Hermione, even if I weren't off the case, I couldn't just follow a hint from your nightmare. No matter how real it seemed."

"Couldn't you just—

"No, Hermione. I'm already in hot water for letting the other cases I was working fall to the wayside while I focused on Severus. I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can do."

"Fine," Hermione said, her voice shrill, "But I know I'll never forgive you if it turns out he was there all along."

She removed her head from the fire and climbed back into bed, her nose running and her throat sore. Even if Kingsley didn't believe such a place existed, Hermione knew Lucius Malfoy had a talent for hiding things he didn't want found. She hated the thought of Severus trapped all alone in that dungeon with rats and the dripping water and the cold. Despite the absurdity of it, Hermione—who had always found things like Divination a complete waste of time—was convinced her nightmare had been real and it gave her hope. He was alive.

A/N: I had originally written the sneering Mr. Nott as Theodore, until I realized on one of my many Sorcerer's Stone rereads that Theodore Nott was in the same year as the trio, not a year below, as I had believed. Thus, Anderson Nott was born.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.