A/N: Oh my! What do we have here? First hug? Well, it is Christmas time after all, I thought we all deserved a bit of sweetness! I hope you all had a nice Christmas and I hope you may have a Happy New 2018!
I would really really appreciate your reviews!
Always a giant thank you to my wonderful Beta-Reader, MWolfe13!
"What do you mean by that, Severus?" He didn't miss the strange, confused tone of the Headmaster's voice at his words. He couldn't say that it displeased him.
"I meant what I said, Albus, nothing more and nothing less." Ah! He was enjoying that moment. Who could have known that Granger could actually let him have that sweet little revenge?
"Didn't you at least try to persuade her?" Severus wondered, amused, if even Merlin could ever achieve such an impossible goal.
"I tried." He replied as he brushed his tight sleeves with lack of sympathy for the sudden distress of his superior.
"How much does she know?" The Headmaster asked him suspiciously, but it didn't bother him a bit.
"She knows about the Marvolo's ring and the curse but nothing more." He replied truthfully. He briefly wondered when Granger would join that most pleasant conversation. Her lessons should surely have been over by then, so he guessed it was just a matter of minutes. Would the Headmaster submit to her too, as he had done?
"You should never have told her about that, Severus. How am I to contain her curiosity now?" The older wizard stood up from his chair as he started pacing back and forward in an unusual gesture.
"You have wanted her on this, Headmaster. Don't blame me, now." He replied stiffly as he could feel some of his tamed anger re-appear on the surface.
"As if, in the end, you were really bothered by this arrangement." Was that some kind of accusation? He could feel his muscles tremble slightly under the sudden tension that those words provoked.
"What do you mean by that?" His eyes flashed with rage.
"You should know by now that the paintings and ghosts of this castle love to gossip, Severus." The Headmaster replied with a satisfied amusement while he tightened his grip on the armrests.
"What are you trying to insinuate?" He had never abused his authority as a teacher with his students, and he knew that the Headmaster was quite aware of his integrity in that sense. He couldn't help but feel betrayed by those words, even though he was very careful to put his mask of indifference back on his face as he looked at the smug expression of his superior.
"Nothing. I'm sorry, Severus. It has been a trying week, and I'm afraid it is catching up with me now." But he wasn't genuinely convinced by his sudden retreat.
Just as he was about to investigate those interesting words further, a knock on the door startled them both. Granger had arrived, and he couldn't help a traitorous flutter in his heart.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster... Sir." She looked at Snape surprised: she didn't think he would be there too.
"Good afternoon to you too, Hermione." The Headmaster greeted her with a welcome smile while her Professor merely nodded his head in her direction. She couldn't help but rest her gaze on his figure a little while longer than maybe she should have. He looked... surprisingly well after the events of that early morning.
"I'm sure you have some questions for me, dear?" The older man asked as the silence protracted a little too long. She moved her concentration to Dumbledore again while she tried to avoid a severe blush blossoming on her cheeks at being caught at her mild impudence.
"Yes, Sir, I would like to talk to you about a few things, actually." How was she supposed to formulate her requests? "First of all, I would like to inform Harry and Ron about my and Professor Snape's project. I think it would be for the best if I don't have to hide from them what we are trying to achieve anymore." She continued carefully as she took the seat the Headmaster had indicated to her across from him. She tried to quiet down her sudden need to look for the approval of the Professor sitting right beside her.
The Headmaster nodded pensively, his darkened hand brushing his beard out of distraction but what attracted her attention more was the profound gaze of Snape she could feel on her person. She tried to ignore that tickling sensation that accompanied her every time she knew for sure that her Potions Professor was looking at her.
"It could be surely helpful but, in all sincerity, I don't think it would be a wise idea in the end. For you see, Hermione, if they came to know my real condition – especially Harry – what would their reactions be?" Hermione understood then, at that right moment, she shouldn't have known about his real condition either. She couldn't help a surprised glance at her Professor, who all but ignored her as his gaze was fixed somewhere on the Headmaster's cursed hand.
"Wouldn't it help Harry to prepare himself more for what's to come?" Hadn't she maybe put much more effort and commitment in her – their – project after she had known the real situation?
"Maybe or maybe not. I'm trying to prepare Harry as best as I can without involving him in a matter that might shock him too much. As you sure well know, the boy is already facing so much due to the link he has with Tom. Wouldn't it be for the best to spare him another emotional turmoil?" She could almost feel herself lulled to sleep by the calming tone the Headmaster was using to persuade her.
"I can only speak from personal experience, and I would want to know – I have wanted to know. It has helped me, Sir, to concentrate all my energies on the most urgent matter better: Professor Snape and I might have found a solution, Sir, a definitive solution." She added proudly. Her news was met by a cold and indifferent stare.
She couldn't help but look unnerved by the meaningful glace that the Headmaster and Snape exchanged right in front of her. That staring battle, though – how it was well-imaginable – was won by her Professor as she could see the older man sighing in defeat.
"Is that what you really want, Severus? Remember that this time all the consequences will fall on you." She openly looked at her Professor as those words ignited her curiosity.
Snape nodded, without adding a word or showing any reluctance in front of that tone that seemed to remind him of something important, although it didn't escape her notice the almost impossible tight grip he had on the armrests.
"Fair enough. I will leave you the pleasure to update the girl, then." Trying to ignore the annoyance at being talked about as if she had not been in the room, she basked in the relief that she now could openly stare at her Professor.
"What will be said in this room, Miss Granger, must not get out of here. Not a single word" He punctuated with severeness. "Is that clear?" Hermione tried to ignore the plain contradiction between what she had just heard and his sudden coldness in her regards. Trying not to shiver at this freezing tone, she nodded seriously.
Before speaking again, he gave one last look at the Headmaster. He looked – strangely enough – preoccupied, as if he was not so sure about what he was doing anymore. "Lately – and more than once - you have expressed your deep desire to know everything about what is really happening. I have concluded..." He seemed to underline the enormous responsibility that fell on him alone, but she couldn't quite tell whether in pride or spite. "... that it might be useful, in the end, if someone else – besides me – knew what has been decided." He finished with a meaningful look at the Headmaster, who – in return – feigned indifference.
"Before doing it, though, I would like to be sure that this is really what you want, Miss Granger: what I am about to reveal is not information easy to live with. You will have to bear the consequences of this knowledge and act accordingly to it. There is no going back." He looked intensely at her eyes whilst she tried to decipher what, even unconsciously, he wanted to tell her. She couldn't help but see a certain hope in his intent gaze for her to share that massive weight of responsibility. How could she refuse such a sweet request?
"I am sure, Sir." She replied proudly with no shade of uncertainty.
What broke their special connection, though, was the old voice of the Headmaster.
"Since this has been decided, may I make a request?" He asked kindly, too kindly for Hermione and Snape's taste. Reluctantly, they both nodded at the Headmaster to go on with his request.
"Wouldn't it be safer if Hermione swore her secrecy through an Unbreakable Vow?" He let out nonchalantly as if that had been the most obvious request to make. She rapidly looked at her Professor, and she was surprised by the intense glare he directed to his superior.
"I don't think it would be..." Snape tried to reply, but he was cut off by the Headmaster before he could finish.
"Why not? Severus, you know the risks that such a situation may bring to all of us if we are not careful enough. It would be safer for you, and it would be safer for Hermione. It is a win-win situation for you both. I'm more than sure that Hermione is quite aware of the fact that she is exposing herself at great risk by helping you, both in the actual task and in the future ones. If she were abducted, or if anything happened to her, I'm more than sure that she wouldn't want for this precious information to fall into the wrong hands. Am I right?" The Headmaster looked at her meaningfully, and even though she wanted to be wary of his suggestions, she couldn't deny their truthfulness.
She risked a glance at her Professor before answering, but he looked more lost and confused than her. "I have no objections." She replied with a self-confidence she actually lacked.
"Perfect!" The Headmaster exclaimed with renewed joy.
"Hermione, Severus, would you like to stand up and kneel in front of each other, please?" Before the Headmaster could round the desk and reach them, she felt Snape's hand grabbing her arm – not too gently but still not painfully – his eyes fixed on hers with admiration mixed with preoccupation.
"If you break it, you will die. Are you aware of it?" He warned her in his most severe tone but, in all truthfulness, she wasn't afraid of it anymore.
"I am." She replied with no shake in her voice.
They knelt in front of each other awkwardly on the cold stone floor of the Headmaster's office. Hermione tried to smooth her grimace of intolerance as her knees made contact with the rough surface and she couldn't help but admire the indifferent and perpetual scowl of Snape
"Hold each other's hands." Came the most solemn voice of the Headmaster as she and Snape faced each other. She couldn't tell whether it was her perception or reality, but all of a sudden the atmosphere around them became gloomier, more solemn, as not even a breath could be heard in the sudden silence of the room.
She connected her eyes to Snape's: he was looking at her with a strange expression, she could almost detect a peculiar sweetness mixed with want. Was she hallucinating? Was the sudden sacred halo in the air making her see things that maybe, perhaps, she wanted to see?
He extended his right hand in front of him, waiting for her to grab it and just in that right moment she realized, like a divine revelation, that she had wanted to hold his hand for so long. For so long she had wanted to reach him, to get to him in so many ways, as a student, as an assistant, as his personal healer, and now physically as well. She wanted to hold on to him.
Overwhelmed and at the same time incited by that mystical knowledge, she grasped his hand with a sense strange of relief: finally, she had touched him; finally, she was linked to him. Had she not wanted to be the only one to know his secrets, to know him? Had she not been jealous of Harry's fortune in having his book, the book she thought was meant for her and her only? And now – yes, now – she was going to be the sole holder of his deepest secret, and she couldn't help but feel satisfied, empowered, overwhelmed by that same desire she could see reflected his eyes too. He wanted her as she wanted him, to be his and he hers – in many ways – to be linked, to be connected. Yes, she basked in that inflamed sensation as her chest couldn't help but project her excitement in deep breaths while her chest heaved up and down under those impulses.
The Headmaster placed his wand on their linked hands; a strange heat emanated from its tip as she grabbed Snape's hand tighter. He reciprocated her gesture as his eyes stared hers in one of their most private moments.
"Will you, Hermione, not disclose what I am about to reveal in this meeting to anybody else, under no circumstances?" She couldn't help but shiver as she heard her name pronounced by his lips for the first time.
"I will not." She replied resolutely.
He lingered a little while longer than it was necessary as if taken by a sudden urge to ask something else of her. She didn't back away from it; she stayed there, their hands still tightly linked – almost painfully – as she waited for his next move. But he didn't dare, red light emitted from Dumbledore's wand and circled their hands, and as soon as it had started, it was all over and done.
They stood up once again, slightly taken aback by the strange rush of feelings that seemed to follow up the magical oath.
When she was finally able to break her gaze from his, she looked around in search of the Headmaster, but he seemed to have disappeared out of the blue. She didn't have time to investigate further for Snape's voice echoed on the cold stone walls once again, asking her attention, not even slightly bothered by the Headmaster's sudden disappearance.
"This morning you asked me about the reason for which the Dark Lord seems so... eager to hurt me at every meeting." He stood tall right in front of her, none of them capable of sitting down again after the strange shivers they could still feel running down their limbs.
"Yes." She simply said as she tried to decipher his expression but, as soon as he understood her intention, he let his hair form a curtain around his face.
"The Dark Lord is getting quite impatient nowadays: he wants the Headmaster out of the picture sooner than later, in the conviction that, once he is gone, he may have full access to Potter and his alliances. It is not a wrong thinking, to tell the truth: Potter would be more vulnerable, with the Headmaster's death and the consequential changes that would concern Hogwarts." He stopped for a while, waiting for those words to sink into her mind. Still, it was impossible to see his true expression in the dim light of the room, and all she could detect was the deeper inflection his voice took as he went on.
"The Headmaster has lately come to the knowledge of one of the deepest secrets of the Dark Lord: a difficult but quite possible way to kill him. He has, of late, been meeting up with Potter to inform him of the ways to succeed in this task. Nevertheless, the Headmaster is dying and time is running short." He stopped once again, her mind trying to reach out to the conclusion of that revelation.
"The Dark Lord has chosen Mr. Malfoy as the executor of the Headmaster's death, for the reason that would take too long to be explained. To make a long story made short, the Malfoys have fallen in disgrace among the Dark Lord, and he had, therefore, deemed this solution a good way to punish the family. He is quite aware of the fact that the boy is too young for accomplishing such a difficult and complicate deed. However, bound by the circumstances, I have sworn an Unbreakable Vow to his mother: if Draco fails, I will be the one to carry out deed asked of Malfoy." Her mind became just more confused by the minute as she tried to grasp the full meaning of those words.
"Why?" She asked bewildered, and he nodded as if he had waited for that right question all along.
"At the Headmaster's suggestion. He thought that in this way we would accomplish three things: I would spare the Headmaster a far more painful death, I would reinforce my position among the Dark Lord, and we would spare Draco's still innocent soul. I would – in all probability – be promoted as the next Headmaster, and this would permit me to check over Hogwarts until Potter finds the ultimate solution to kill the Dark Lord." He finished with a particular labor in his breath as if sharing that considerable responsibility had cost him.
"But now that we might have found a solution for the Headmaster's curse... all of our work would go wasted... and besides, you would be hated by all Hogwarts, the Order... it would be so unfair!" She shrieked in disbelief.
"I know, that's why I thought that at least someone else should be informed about this." Had he really thought of her as his secret-keeper? Had he really thought that she could be good enough, capable enough, intelligent enough to be able to carry that sacred information?
"But we had found a solution for the curse." She kept saying dumbfounded as soon as she recovered from the sudden surge of pride that swelled in her chest.
"We can't know for certain: we have not brewed and tested it. It might have worked as it might have not. We don't have time, Granger: the Dark Lord wants Dumbledore dead in a week. We don't have enough time." He looked so strained, so fatigued by that knowledge, by that responsibility, by the thought of what he had to do in some days.
Before she could think about it, she neared him, her steps reaching his side without her conscious will. He didn't move; he didn't flinch, he stayed there as his mind was so hurt and pained not to notice her sudden proximity. Only when she reached out with a hand to touch his robed shoulder, he did look at her nearing figure. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, not caring about what could happen or how that situation may look compromising, how the Headmaster's words rang true in his ear now.
As soon as she realized he was not going to back away, she slowly moved her arms from his shoulders to his neck, and before he could do anything else, she engulfed him in a tight hug, not at all bothered that someone could come in in any moment.
"I'm sorry." She whispered as she got on her toes to reach his ear.
He didn't move, it looked like he had even stopped breathing, but before she could chastise herself for her blind instinct, she felt his arms – slowly, tentatively – come around her waist.
"It is so unfair." She kept murmuring out of shock, partly due to her disbelief at what she had just heard and partly due to the desire to give him some solace.
Damn him and damn her! And Damn Dumbledore! Had he not doubted his more than respectful intentions, insinuating a more profound attachment, he would not have thought about it! He would not have realized how much he depended on the girl already, efficiently as well as emotionally.
He had not been able to stop staring at her all the time she had been in that room, from when she had entered to now that she was hugging him with all her might.
He couldn't help but be enamored of the strong resolution he had seen in her eyes as she had grabbed his hand while she had uttered the solemn words that would link her to him forever.
She had not backed away, she had stayed, she had wanted to stay, and he had wanted so badly for her to stay, at least her. And she had looked at that impossible request in his eyes and had accepted it with not even the slightest hesitation. How could he not fall for the firm belief she had in him? How could he not fall into those soft hands that gripped his neck firmly? How could he not fall for her sad whispers of solace? How could he not fall for her desire to stay?
He hugged her, too. He just couldn't help it as his hands seemed to move around her waist on their own accord, as his fingers caressed her back trying to infuse a sense of strength he had completely lost, especially with her in his arms, pleading him of something uncertain, indistinct, but asking anyway.
"I'm not giving up; I'm going to brew the potion." She said firmly at one point, her hands grabbing his shoulders still so tightly that he didn't know if he could wriggle out of her arms even if he had wanted to.
"We don't have time. I have to talk to Malfoy as soon as possible, I can't waste other time." He replied in a deep hush. She shivered in his arms.
"I will do it." She exclaimed with no hesitation.
"It is too complicated, and you don't know the quantities for each ingredient... it is too experimental, even for me." Making a healing cream out of a potion: it undoubtedly was not something that could be obtained by a young girl in a week.
"Let me try. Give me free access to your lab, and I will do my best. It won't hurt to try. Please, let me try." He sighed defeated, there was no way he could convince her not to do it.
"All the ingredients are in my lab. I will show them to you as soon as you can pass by." He drawled as he tried to regain some of his lost composure.
"Thank you" She whispered one last time before disentangling her hands from his neck. She touched his shoulders one last time, lingering a while longer than she should have and then she moved away, unable though to tear her gaze from his face.
"I don't want to lie to you: shall a miracle happen and should you be able to brew the potion, it would still be useless. The Headmaster has to die, or my cover would be ruined." One thing was sure: he had to kill Dumbledore. There was no way out of it.
"If he has his strength and health back then he doesn't have to die. He would be strong enough to protect himself from any attack. Even from yours." He had to restrain a smile from blossoming on his lips as he saw her delicate blush appear on her cheeks as every time she talked about his abilities.
"But then we would risk the rage of the Dark Lord, and we all know who he will take it out on." Him. Maybe the Headmaster's life would be spared, but his and Draco's would inevitably be doomed if they failed.
She seemed to get to the same conclusion as her eyes bugged out in fear.
"Then we should find a way to fake the Headmaster's death." She replied resolutely.
"Easier said than done. A killing curse, once it reaches its aim, cannot be reversed." He tugged at his tight sleeves, pondering where Mr. Mafoly could be at this hour. Would he catch him at dinner? For how much he – all of a sudden – enjoyed entertaining Granger in her impossible plans, he was quite aware there was no way out of the deed he was obliged to perform in some days.
He wondered – preoccupied – if he had broken the girl. She seemed so thoughtful as she bit her lip looking nowhere in particular. Sighing, he realized that maybe he had let his desire of not being alone in that impossible task take over him and had ignored the apparent fragility of Granger.
For once, someone had seemed surer than him. In the last week or so, she had shown out to be not only strong enough to bear some of his worst moments, but also a strange but admirable determination to change things for the better, especially him. She wanted to save him. Ah! Had not that been his dream for twenty years now? To have the chance to redeem himself? She had looked so convinced, so sure that he could, he could redeem himself, that – in part – he had already.
She cared about him, mysteriously. She cared about his opinion (he could never in a thousand years forget that fit of jealousy he felt in her memory regarding his Potions book), she cared about his welfare so much to... touch him in order to give him some relief from the Cruciatus curse, she cared about his future for she didn't want him to be hated nor to be dead. And, strangely as it was, in some ways he cared for her, too.
Sighing deeply, he realized he should have protected her and not let his desire cloud his judgment. Once again, he had made a stupid mistake.
"Draught of living death." She startled him as she exclaimed triumphantly. What?
"Come again?" He drawled confused as she shook her head in a certain superior disapproval of his distraction.
"If the Headmaster took a Draught of living death, it would look like an apparent death. It could work!" Her excitement was preventing him from thinking seriously over it.
"But I should still cast a killing curse." The Dark Lord had to be convinced of the Headmaster's death.
"Sir, I'm sure that you are a powerful enough wizard to pretend to be casting a curse while you are not." She replied with a little knowing smile accompanied by a diffuse blush on her cheeks. He stopped breathing for a moment: he could not fall for the girl!
"A killing curse is much more complicated than any other curse. It could be dangerous, too dangerous. What distinguishes the Unforgivables from all the other curses is the strong intention you have to put behind it while casting the curse. The Dark Arts are tricky and difficult to master because of this same reason. This is why the Dark Lord is unbeatable in them. I have to admit that it is an... ingenious solution, the least but it leaves too many things to chance." He hated to admit it but the Headmaster had been right: Granger was a very resourceful witch.
"Isn't it still better than nothing? We can try it. If we leave things how they are, if we leave the plan as it is, then the Headmaster will surely die but with this, Sir, we have an opportunity. It might not work, but there is still a chance that it could." She neared him once again with those big hopeful eyes, and he wondered how he could ever refuse her contagious optimism. She was working hard so that the Headmaster could still be alive while everything went as planned, she was working so hard so that he would not be a worse killer than he already was once the war was over.
"All right." He simply answered dumbfounded as, out of habit, those words still came out with a drawled and indifferent tone.
She smiled joyously as, out of her Gryffindor nature, she gripped his shoulders again and gave him a silent kiss on the cheek in gratitude. The time seemed to stop as they both blushed furiously at that repeated intimacy. He didn't dare move, afraid her Gryffindor nature was contagious as her enthusiasm.
"Thank you." Her joy won over her embarrassment as she moved to reach the door. He still didn't dare move.
"I'm... I have to go now, there is Professor Slughorn's party tonight, and I can't miss, but as soon as I am free, I will come to your office. If you want... if you are not too busy, we could... well... we could meet tonight, around ten. I could... that's it, if you would like, pass by for... starting to work on the potion. If it doesn't bother you, Sir." He stifled a light smile to appear on his lips at her embarrassment.
"I shall speak to Draco sooner than later so I don't know if I am to be free, for that time. But feel free to pass by to check." She smiled and nodded one last time before opening the door.
He let his shoulders fall slightly under the weight of that added responsibility. Had he done the right thing?
"She cares for you." He jolted slightly at the Headmaster's hushed voice behind his back. He narrowed his eyes in mild anger.
"And you care for her," Dumbledore added after some seconds of silence, with a light amusement that didn't go unnoticed.
"Has anybody ever told you that it is not polite to overhear conversations in which you were not included?" He scowled at the hidden figure of the Headmaster behind his desk. How come he had been so distracted not to notice the presence of Dumbledore? Hermione would be the death of him.
"I believe it might work. Her plan, I mean. I told you she would be... useful." The Headmaster came out of the darkness and Severus couldn't help but notice the amused mirth shining in his eyes. He refused to answer that provocation as he willed his heart to slow down: his life had been precarious so many times in the past twenty years, especially when he had been in front of the Dark Lord but never – never as in that moment – he feared for himself. How much did Dumbledore know of his feelings for Granger? How much would he approve of it? Would he worry about her a similar fate as Lily's?
He seemed to perceive his thoughts in some way because his face cleared out of that amused expression, swapped with one of mild curiosity and incredulity.
"For how much it may surprise you, Severus, I... do not disapprove of this unexpected affection between you and Hermione. I believe you both might have saved my life because of it and what can save some lives, Severus, is never bad. Don't chastise yourself for it." Severus didn't even blink at that answer. If possible, he stayed even stiller than when Hermione had hugged him.
"You wouldn't disapprove, shall it...?" He started carefully.
"Shall it grow? No, I would not." The Headmaster replied firmly as if not even a glimpse of doubt had ever been present in his mind at that thought.
But Severus shook his head in resignation. "I wouldn't be fair to her: I'm too old for her, and my fate is doomed: when the war is over, I will still be considered a former Death-Eater... shall we win." She deserved something better than that.
"Haven't you paid enough for your mistakes already, Severus?" The Headmaster's tone – if possible – sounded even more pained than his.
"Even if I have, my life won't be easy after the war, even less during it and we both know what we are going to face when this all starts. She might feel something now, out of compassion and out of the excitement of the war but what after? Would she still put up with her harsh Potions Professor, former Death-Eater and scary Bat of the Dungeons? I'm not for her, Albus." His frustration overcame him as his anger let itself be shown in his drawled tone.
"Don't underestimate her, Severus. You have done so once, and you had to re-think yourself. I believe she understood you much better than you think and that is why she cares for you." He hated the amused self-confidence he could hear in the Headmaster's voice. Before he could answer back, though, the Headmaster had disappeared once again, and he feared that he would not be back. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards the door, his billowing robes following behind him as he strode to the dungeons in search of Draco. He hoped to find him as soon as possible, but he didn't want to admit to himself what was the real reason behind all that rush.