Alright, let's see...correct file uploaded? check. High praise for She-without-whom-all-things-would-not-be-written-as-well, Whitehound? check. *squints* Did I do anything wrong this time? No? Right, then off we go!

The first dorm was crammed with twenty-four women sitting on eight small beds in almost total darkness. Only the moonlight filtering in through the small, dirty attic window by the ceiling kept us from stumbling over each other.

Dusty had been the last to arrive and, though she moved slowly, she wasn't as hurt as we all feared.

"The house elf popped in and popped me out of there before he really got going," she said. "I heard him arguing with Ma outside the infirmary. She had smothered me in so many bandages, I looked like a mummy. Didn't need hardly any of them. Then I heard her say that he had done damage internally and that the elves wouldn't respond to the Brown Room if a life wasn't in danger. I tell you, she lied, right to his face! Then she berated him for his lack of restraint and how he was misusing a valuable commodity. "When he was gone she came back in and vanished the bandages but told me not to leave the infirmary until she said so. She just came in a little while ago and told me to go to bed. She looked dog tired. Depressed.

"What do you think will happen to her if they find out she was protecting me?"

"I think she was just protecting an investment; we're just money to Ma," replied Nadia from across the room.

"I don't know," I said, "She did something similar to me when I was in the infirmary. She looked really upset that I was hurt. I think she does have a conscience, but I'm not sure where she keeps it most times "Someone should cultivate her," said Peaches. "Give her a bit of understanding and see how she responds."

"I'll do it." I replied. "I'll work on my gratitude," I added drolly. The others laughed.

"Now let's talk about this little revolution we accidentally started and what we should do about it," I continued. "Our little game has been played for higher stakes than we considered at first. We've not only split the Death Eaters into factions but now it seems that some of them would like to see an end to the tyranny."

My statement was received with a few gasps but mostly nods of agreement.

"I see some of you have already encountered some comments. Let's share what we know."

I made no mention of my inside source and Peaches didn't remark on its absence. We spoke for another hour and when we all shuffled off to our beds we had a sketchy plan to work with. We had mapped out who we thought was a good candidate for Nott to recruit and who we thought was a liability. The ladies who had been in the Emerald Lounge and had witnessed the spontaneous act of protection of all of us by the Younger Death Eaters from Macnair were most vocal in supporting the burgeoning revolt. The others were more cautious and skeptical and I told them I thought that was a good thing, we needed rational minds and ours were likely to get clouded as the prospect of freedom loomed. It was Maisy who decided we needed to split the team, with some of the girls acting as if they were loyal to the Elders. If we looked like we were forming separate allegiances perhaps they might be lulled into a false sense of security. Amber, Maisy, Ruby and Nadia volunteered. The meeting broke up and the ladies drifted off to bed.

Peaches leaned over and spoke in a low voice, "I hope you understand what's happening."

I tilted my head in question.

"You are trying to make it a committee. It's not. They already look to you as a leader, Hermione. You cannot run a revolution by committee. Take command. We need it."

"Why not you?" I snapped back quietly. I wanted freedom, not responsibility.

"I'm not the Princess of Gryffindor, my friend. You are a symbol. Being the last one standing has brought you nothing but pain, I get that. But you are the last living friend of Harry Potter. Own it. There will be time to crawl away and just be a broken doll after we win. For all of us. Right now they need you to be what you once were."

"A bossy know-it-all?" I groused.

"A threat," she replied.

I gave her a sour look and she lightly punched me in the arm and crawled into the bed next to mine.

Before we both settled, I turned back to Peaches.

"Tell Nott to cultivate Ma. If the younger ones can suck up to her, maybe she could prove useful to their cause."

"Will do, Boss." she replied.

I huffed out a breath and closed my eyes.

I would have thought that my sleep would be disturbed, that anxiety at all the things that could go wrong would keep me tossing and turning, but that night I slept like the dead.

~*^*~

The rest of the week went smoothly, with the girls giving me regular updates on anything they thought was important, and me giving them praise or advice as if I had some right. My fingers itched for parchment, I needed to chart out our information and graph the developing effects, but of course that idea was foolish.

Gossip had it that Macnair's department had suffered a sudden loss of employees and the Dark Lord was unhappy. Rumor had Rookwood in line to take over from him if his revenue didn't improve. Maisy made sure he heard the rumor. She had taken over from Peaches as his favorite and so far his anger was kept in check. The air in the lounge seethed with tension around Rookwood and Macnair.

I did my best to be more polite to Ma, thanking her for seeing to my care the week before, and obliquely thanking her for rescuing Dusty. She was surprisingly touched by my gratitude and looked like she wanted to say more, but then shut down and told me sternly to go on about my business. However, after that I noticed a more pleasant manner as she introduced me to whichever new man had bought my time, and during the day she would often smile and cluck as she pulled imaginary lint from my shoulder in a strangely mothering way. I soon had all the girls treating her with more respect and she responded in kind. Odd that after five years in her service, we only found out now that Ma was actually a decent sort, either that or Stockholm syndrome worked in reverse as well.

On Friday night, Nott again claimed my services.

We made our way up the stairs and to a little used room in the east wing. The bed had bad springs, but it had comfortable chairs. I was guessing he wasn't interested in the bed.

Once we were in and seated, I poured the tea, letting Nott gather his thoughts. He looked excited but also surer of himself, more confident than when we had last spoken.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bit of black cloth. He enlarged it with a wave of his wand and I saw it was a formal Death Eater robe. He handed it to me and gestured at my garments.

"Thank you," I said as I stood and shrugged on the robes. As I surrounded myself in the voluminous cloak I recognized the smell that was wafting up from the fabric. Severus. I buried my nose in the folds before I had a chance to think about what I was doing and then froze. Too late. I looked up to see Nott's look of smug satisfaction.

"He told me not to shrink them down to size. That you liked them that way."

I'm afraid I just stood there staring at him like a frightened rabbit with bunched up cloth in my fists.

"Thank you, Granger. For urging me to see him. Very clever bit of work that, 'look in his eyes'. Well played."

I sighed and sat back down.

"You needed a leader. You had the right attitude, but no plan. I figured he would be able to judge best how much you should know."

"Well, he's let me in on a good bit of it. Enough anyway. We're to protect you from Macnair without drawing attention to you unnecessarily. And we are to listen to any news or advice you have."

He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a quill and some ink, and a flick of his wand enlarged some parchment.

"He also wanted you to write some letters."

"Why? To whom?"

"He said that there were two people that he tried to contact with new developments in the last few months, but they suspect him and won't bite. He wanted you to write something that would convince them you are really Hermione Granger, something only they would know. He will see that they are delivered so that we could try to gain their trust. Ask them to cooperate without writing something that will get us all disemboweled if the letter falls into the wrong hands."

My mouth went dry and I had to drink some tea before I could ask my burning question. Two, there were two people alive that would want to help if they knew Snape was really trying to save me. I didn't know who I wanted them to be the most. Another sip of tea and I let my curiosity have its way.

"Who?"

"I don't know," he held a hand up to forestall my onslaught of questions. "He said you would know, that it was better if I didn't yet. One, he called the Romanian Dragon Boy," Charlie! "and the other, he called your Broom Artist."

"My broom artist?"

"Yeah, he said it just like that. Kind of bitter."

The penny dropped. Viktor Krum. I couldn't remember anything Viktor ever did to incur the dislike of Severus. Perhaps something else happened during that long ago tournament that I was not privy to.

"Do you know who he means? " I nodded. "I'll leave you to it, then. I'm going to rest. It's been a long day."

With that he walked over and stretched out on the bed which gave with a metallic groan. I should have picked a better room after all.

I leaned over and rolled the parchment out on the table. Charlie Weasley was alive and Severus knew how to contact both him and Viktor! I sat and remembered the last time I had seen both of them. It was Bill and Fleur's wedding feast. I had to mentally shove the memories away because the faces of all the guests started to pile up in my mind and my psyche started to rebel at the pain. I was sure both of them would help if I asked, I just had to find the correct words.

I was unsure what to write, or rather, how to write it. I picked up the quill several times and dropped it just as often. Finally I sat back from the table and pulled myself into the folds of Severus' cloak until not even my toes peeked out. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine he was right here with me. On a whim I started to rifle through his pockets, searching for something else of his I could hold. I found a scrap of parchment and pulled it out. I unfolded it and looked at the words.

"H.- "Until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words,--'Wait and hope'." -Alexandre Dumas, Have Strength,-S."

I pressed a hand to my lips, silenced the half laugh, half sob, that tried to escape. He knew I would search his pockets. Of course he did. I turned his missive over and after a moment's thought scribbled my own reply.

S.-"It is necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live." -A. Dumas, I do not doubt. -H.

Stuffing the note back into his pocket, I leaned forward and wrote my letters. It wasn't that difficult after all, I just needed a reminder that it was not foolish to hope anymore. Fate had dealt us all a harsh blow, to be sure, but I strongly believed that now, with this man at my back, fate could be forced to her knees.

I woke Nott when I was done and he soon left with my notes. All three of them.

It was the next night that I saw Severus, but not in the way I would have expected.

Things are happening quickly now! Thank you to all my reviewers, you all make my world go 'round!