Chapter 50

For the next few days, the new siblings alternated between sleeping, playing cards, talking, and hanging out with Ron whenever he came by. Whenever they spoke in the middle of the night – in the twilight hours of the spirit – they would talk about the Headmaster, about his life with the Dursleys, about the prophecy, about all of it.

Harry's moods were less dark than they'd been with the Horcrux, but he was still volatile. He had no idea what to do with the emotions that were all his own, no idea how to control the rage that no longer seemed out of nowhere, the glee that didn't have an angry edge, and then the innocence he had reclaimed in his feelings led to a lot of childlike outbursts.

They had a lot of discussion of feelings that week.

Hermione needed less and less sleep time moved forward and – when Harry fell back to sleep – she would sneak through the halls and walk barefoot on the grounds. The magic felt like a cold stream running on her sleepy, fuzzy core. It left her feeling refreshed for a few hours at least before she returned to feeling nearly as tired as Harry.

In her opinion, she'd spend too long the past few weeks in bed, being coddled because of magical depletion. Really, Hermione should stop doing this. It left her feeling weak, useless.

There were regular visits from Severus too, usually after Harry went to sleep as if he knew when that was. Maybe he was on the same wavelength as Dumbledore. But those visits were short and comprised of strategy meetings, not kisses in the dark like she'd hoped.

With all her time with Harry in the wing, she still hadn't told him about Severus. Even with the man in question's blessing it felt too soon. What if something happened? What if Harry met with Voldemort sooner than later? What if he couldn't be taught Occlumency quickly enough? Her mind ran around in circles every time she thought of bringing it up. There were times when speedy thought meant quick action, fast decisions, but there were times like this where it paralyzed her because there was no sure answer to her concerns. It was a risk she didn't need to take, so she jumped between risking it or notso fast no one decision lasted for more that five minutes.

Her doubts kept him away until Friday had come and she had to leave Harry in the hospital wing. The heart-to-heart would have to wait.

Severus had come to collect her after classes ended and she left the infirmary and Harry behind with a hug.

"I'll be back soon," she ruffled his hair in promise before turning to the door.

"Wait!" Harry called out behind her. "Just … don't do anything I would!"

Hermione didn't turn around, but his admonishment had her laughing loudly as she followed Professor Snape out of the Wing. She would swear she could see a small crinkle in the Professor's eyes too.

"You'll find a few of your peers have shown up for your office hours tonight," Severus told her with a smirk. "I suggest you see to them before any extracurriculars."

Her confusion had her pushing open the office door a bit warily. From within, five sets of green and silver robes stood and waved or nodded at her.

"What-?" Hermione stumbled as Severus pushed her into the room. "You guys weren't worried, were you?"

Draco and Pansy rolled their eyes, while the other three girls simply remained impassive.

"Please, as if any of your group ever die," Draco huffed.

Daphne jumped forward and pulled her down onto the chair she was previously on. "Draco just does't want people to know he's a softy. If Potter wasn't right next to you, I think the little princess would have snuck in to see you while you were laid up."

Draco sputtered, but didn't directly contradict the statement. There were a few tugs on her hair and Astoria joined Daphne behind her. "Umm, so what are you girls doing?"

Pansy joined Astoria and Daphne behind her while Draco and Lyra Fawley sat in the chairs in front of her, looking at her cautiously.

"We know you've been summoned, Granger," Lyra said delicately. "Professor Snape thought we'd be able to help prepare you. Or calm you, as the case may be."

"I came to give my eulogy," quipped Draco with a half-formed smirk. "Everyone knows you adopted Saint Potter; I don't fancy anyone close to him taking on the Dark Lord."

"Well, I'm not going to stop you waxing poetic on my behalf," she laughed. "But I'll be fine."

Define fine, Hermione thought to herself. The thought of facing Fenrir Greyback was actually scaring her more than facing Voldemort, even more than being tortured much to her consternation. It felt wrong to be more afraid of a werewolf, but Targnak had warned her that those in tune with nature magic could feel her … and Greyback was very in touch with his wolf. To the point of savagery and adopting wolf-like characteristics outside the moon. If any werewolf could identify her it would be Greyback.

"No dying, clear?" Pansy told her, pulling one of her curls to emphasize her words. "We know you can fight and you will do it if it comes down to it."

"Ehhem," Severus coughed. The room froze. Hermione saw the tell-tale mirth in his eyes before his smirk made an appearance. He really did enjoy making students sweat. "You are fortunate I care for you all, or that would have been a very foolish declaration to make in my presence."

Even the Slytherins couldn't help but gasp, and Hermione actually joined them. There weren't many situations outside of their chambers where he expressed his feelings so directly. Severus must be just as worried as she was.

"Thanks Uncle Sev," Draco sighed in relief. "Thank you."

Severus tipped his head in acknowledgement but said no more on the subject.

Far too soon her primping was finished and Severus pulled her away from the Slytherins.

"It's time."

The whole room sobered, and it was actually Lyra – the seventh year she knew less than any of the others – who shed a tear for her.

"It's not like I'm dying," she laughed awkwardly. "I'll be back, okay?"

Pansy and Daphne both swallowed her in a hug, and Draco patted her shoulder awkwardly. With the final goodbyes, Severus swept her from the room and towards the Hogwarts gates.

"Hermione, know that I will not be there with you," Severus said. "The Dark Lord knows well that out contract would have me intercede on your behalf. To return to the school, if you are allowed, you will need to apparate yourself. You can envision Hogsmeade or the gates, correct?"

She just nodded, her belly in knots.

"We'll put a masking on your scent. I'm unsure if it is the scent or your magic that will call to Greyback, but it will be additional protection. Keep yourself from any contact, magical or physical, and you will be far more likely to succeed in concealing your identity."

Again, she managed a nod.

When they got to the gates, Severus pulled her into his arms. In the dark of the evening, no one could have seen the soft kiss the two lovers shared. They wouldn't see their closed eyes that didn't open for a long while after the kiss had ended, or the way Hermione savoured the feeling of his warm breath fanning her face, or the way Severus' arms tightened around her before he let her go. No, no one saw their reverent embrace.

The soft silence carried them through the movements of their apparition to the gates of Malfoy Manor, and continued as they made their way up the walk.

Lady Malfoy was there to greet them as she stood stoically in the cold wind. From the red on her cheeks and nose Hermione knew she'd been out there a while. Perhaps by Voldemort's orders, or perhaps to escape the man, but she was clearly freezing as she awaited them.

"Narcissa," Severus greeted, clasping her hands in his.

She managed a weak smile. "Severus. I cannot ask you to join us for dinner, but know I would."

"I understand," he nodded, then turned to Hermione. "Apprentice, this is where I leave you. Do try not to be your defiant self."

Stay alive.

She nodded and followed Mrs. Malfoy inside, not daring to look back at her lover one last time. It was too much of a doom-ridden gesture and she was determined to preserve herself and his secrecy tonight. Severus would not be put in danger, and she would leave this alive.

It was past the massive oaken doors and in the twinkling ballroom that resided the Dark Lord, perched on a carved throne that couldn't have been originally part of the architecture because of its terrifying snake motif. Narcissa seemed to falter, and Hermione had mercy on the woman and swept past her. She would face Voldemort first.

The Death Eaters surrounded her, all fully decked in their garb. The only faces without the horrid silver masks rested next to Voldemort. Remus was on his knees, held by the scruff of his neck by the imposing figure of Fenrir Greyback. Her eyes met his against her will. She wished they hadn't. The werewolf's own eyes widened, his gaze turned hungry. In horror she ripped her gaze from his and focused herself again on the pale figure sat before her.

"Ah, the new princess of the Potter line." The silky voice was filled with his snake venom, ready to inject in her the moment she failed to entertain. "I had thought you would go to the Headmaster to save you. Or perhaps run away. You must know I am … displeased."

"You are angry," Hermione met him eye to eye, not wavering, "even though I made it clear that I was not on your side."

Voldemort lashed out, "Crucio!" And she blocked it, her magic rising to defend her. She was not a full strength, but she had greatly recovered. It was enough for her to diffuse the magic down to the floor beneath her.

Hermione sneered. "What, given up on talking?"

Voldemort rose from his thrown, wand pointed right at her heart. "Your potential is still too great to discard. However, you must learn that I will either be offered your obedience, or I will take it."

His wand redirected from her and pointed at Remus. Before she could stop him, Remus was put under the torture curse and writhing against the ballroom floor. His screams were hoarse and that made it worse; he had already become hoarse with screams before she'd even arrived.

"STOP!" Hermione shrieked, throwing a cutting curse at Voldemort. He had to stop his curse to deflect it, but her curse had brought a reaction from him. Before she could even blink Voldemort had disarmed the wand from her hand and pointed it at her. She didn't fight, not yet. Greyback was too close to Remus, too close for her to rescue him. Still, she glared up at the Dark Lord "Don't. Do that. Again."

Voldemort stalked towards her and she let him grab her by the face. His red eyes seemed to burn a hole through her, and his grip sent a painful series of shocks through her with his dark magic.

"Lupin is here to ensure your obedience," he snarled. "I will do whatever I want to him so long as you dare defy me."

She wrenched her face away from his hand. "Then what do you want?!"

"I know better than to ask for Potter," Voldemort said magnanimously. "I will not make an impossible request. All I want from you is information on the Order. And you."

Hermione bit her lip. Address the first, first. "I'm not part of the Order any longer, not really. Dumbledore still gives me things to do but I'm not on his team."

The room seemed to chill as his gaze sharpened at her.

"Severus did not inform me."

"He doesn't know." She looked away. "It was personal. Dumbledore hasn't even told the rest of the Order. Besides, I don't see why you need me to give you Order information. You have Remus there, and Severus tells you everything anyways."

He prowled around her, leaving her field of vision as she refused to lose dignity by turning. "Severus is … useful, but the old man does not tell him all and Potter despises him. And this werewolf has only information on the packs. They know nothing about the larger plans or about Potter's purpose. And Potter is the weapon the old man uses the most."

"You've got that right."

Th words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and the room stilled. Remus's worn, tired face snapped up in surprise and shock. Hermione bit her tongue to keep herself from trying to justify herself; she would only make things worse if she tried to elaborate.

"What's this?" Voldemort came back into her sights. "Dissatisfaction with the great Albus Dumbledore, from you? What did he do that has turned you against him?"

She stared resolutely down, not making eye contact and not responding to him.

Her chin was wrenched upwards as Voldemort once again crowded her personal space. He made her look as he directed his wand lazily in the direction of Remus' pale form. "Tell me. Now."

What to say, what to say …. She definitely could not tell him the truth about the horcruxes – even thought that was the whole problem – and so she searched for some half-truth to feed him.

She decided to give Voldemort a half-truth in the form of what Dumbledore was refusing him.

"I know about the prophecy."

Voldemort's eyes turned victorious. "Do you know the whole of it?"

"No." Hermione saw no point in lying, but with his fingers tight on her jaw she still felt the adrenaline pushing her words out more rushed than she intended. "But neither of you will leave Harry alone because of it! I hate Dumbledore because he wanted Harry to face you … knowing Harry might die. Would die. He told me it was for the 'greater good'!"

Voldemort's eyes widened. Past his face she could see Remus staring in disbelief and wished she could have spared him that. She hadn't thought he would believe that, but maybe he trusted the pack bond they had more than she knew.

"I just want Harry safe," Hermione realized exactly what she'd done – Voldemort now had an opening, and she now had a way out. If she could convince this man that she wasn't on Dumbledore's side, that all she wanted was for him to leave Harry alone, they could use that. Maybe she'd be a spy too. "He never signed up for any of this! Whatever the prophecy says, he deserves to live… he's a good person. An innocent."

"And?"

The cold word cut right through the heat of her words. Voldemort was simply stood there, face hard, but fully using all his height to look down on her even while standing so far from his followers he could have been on his own planet. They orbited him, true, but no one interfered with him. It made him seem gigantic.

Voldemort and her shared looks. She had no idea which of her many emotions were on her face, but whichever it was earned a smirk from the man.

"Don't look so confused," he said. "You don't truly expect me to care about the little nuisance's life, do you? One life is nothing in the face of my goals. Innocence does not protect them."

He held up his hand to stop her anger. "However … I could be convinced to avoid seeking out the boy."

"Hermione, don't!"

She couldn't stop herself. Once Remus' magic panicked and her eyes connected with his, her magic had to reach out and make sure he was okay. The moment was in slow-motion to her; her non-corporeal magic washing over Remus, his face relaxing a little, and then the magic reaching the back of Remus' neck where Fenrir's hand rested. She could feel the way it tingled when in contact with the Alpha, and then she saw how Fenrir's gaze sharpened on her as he tossed Remus to a few Death Eaters to his side, freeing him to stalk towards her.

"No, no, don't you dare come closer." Hermione walked backwards, panicking. She could see the long sniff Fenrir took when he got near. "Voldemort!"

"Fenrir, you're interrupting," the man interceded, although he was clearly confused at her panic, his words slow. "Why such a reaction, though?"

Fenrir then jumped at her. Without using her magic she couldn't avoid him. His full weight collided with her and she was knocked down on her back, the fierce werewolf above her. His hand cradled her head roughly, both protecting her from banging it on the floor but also wrapping around her neck in a demand for submission.

"Don't," she whimpered, suddenly more afraid than all the time she'd been with Voldemort. One word from Greyback, and she knew her peaceful anonymity was over. One word and Severus could be compromised. "Please."

"I love it when my females beg," he growled, his bloody lips trailing across her neck. "You smell so … fertile."

"She is spoken for, wolf," Greengrass hissed from the corner. "Release the Lady."

Greyback ignored him, continuing to smell her. She felt him pressed against her and momentarily wondered if it was worth keeping her secret. If she didn't need to hide her training, her magic, herself, she could throw off the wolf. But if he didn't tell his Master … she might still have her secret by the end of the night. She waited.

"I can feel your magic, witch," Greback's tongue came out for a lick, making her flinch. "You are bound to the wilds. An alpha female in your own right. It makes me … itch … itch to be near you. That is how you bonded to Lupin, isn't it? Do you use him to power yourself? Do you pull magic from the animal in him?"

"Never," she denied. "I help him."

"You should be helping an Alpha," he purred. "Your smell pleases me. Familiar … powerful."

"Get off me!" she pushed against his chest. "I don't care what I smell like to you!"

She gagged a little when his tongue trailed down her neck and he hummed in appreciation of her flavor.

"I have not smelled something so sweet in twenty-five years," he purred. "Too long."

From behind Greyback, she heard, "Twenty-five years …."

No, no. Voldemort sounded relflexive. If twenty-five years was when Mrs. Oswin last met Voldemort then he was piecing it together. He was seconds away from the discovery if he was anywhere near as smart as she thought.

"Greyback, you remember the delightful Miss Lleonelin?" Voldemort called. "Tell me, how does she compare with our Miss Granger?"

"Just like her."

It was confirmed. It was out. Voldemort knew.

Hermione kicked her magic up and threw Greyback, against the far wall with nothing raised but her hand. She jumped up to her feet as quickly as possible and kicked off the flats on her feet. The glowing would only betray her further, but she needed the power. She was surrounded by Death Eaters, Greyback was in front of her, and Voldemort had her wand.

Her feet pressed flat onto the stone floor and the tidal wave of magic rose from beneath her up to her knees, then stomach, then shoulders, then all the way up to the top of her head. Once it reached her top the energy had nowhere left in her body to go and so left her body, circling her. From with her bubble, she felt untouchable. She just needed her wand … Speaking of … she turned to Voldemort and glared.

"Here's what's going to happen;" she hissed, "you are going to give me my wand, give me Remus, and let me leave. You will not come after me. You will not try to find my bondmate. In fact, just forget what you just figured out and leave me the hell alone."

Voldemort stood there with a Grinch-like smile spreading across his face. "I knew you were special; a new link witch, a source of wondrous power. Oh, dear thing, do you even know how to use it?"

Hermione scoffed. "I've heard better lines from movie villains, Voldemort. Will you let me leave, or is this going to come to a fight?"

Voldemort leaned back and regarded her, his gaze steady. A pin dropping could have been heard as his red eyes held her brown ones, both testing the air. Finally, the tension broke when Voldemort tossed her wand carelessly through the air. "I have learnt how to deal with your kind, Apprentice, but I am unprepared to do so today. Take your werewolf and go, but know that we will be meeting again. And when we do … you will be mine."

The Death Eaters holding Remus tossed him towards her, nearly knocking her off her feet as she tried to catch him. He was unsteady but held on firmly as she hefted him up by the shoulders.

"Come on, we've got to go," Hermione urged her old Professor. "Come on, hurry."

The Death Eaters were all sneering and glaring as she rushed out of the room. Behind her she could hear Voldemort's voice echo through one more time;

"I'll be seeing you very soon, Apprentice."