Hello my lovely readers!
I hope everyone is doing well in this scary time. I'm in the US, and the coronavirus panic has been slowly soaring here. I hope all of my readers abroad are safe, and I'm hoping this will run its course as soon and as safely as it can.
Lots to catch up on! A shorter chapter (and not on a Friday for once), but I'm excited to have something to give you all! Especially since we passed a major milestone: 1 MILLION views of this story! More below.
A brief recap if you haven't had the time to re-read lately: As their sixth year begins, Dumbledore used Hermione's Horcrux Task Force to test his theory about Hallows (which failed). He is injured, and the control of the Order is slowly passing to Kingsley. Hermione and Severus devise a plan to introduce the Hallows as a distraction to the Dark Lord, for which they will need spies. To secure Draco's position, they plan a poisoning. However, Ron also gets poisoned! Rude. However, Hermione now has some much needed time to research what she needs to research to devise a plan to remove the Horcrux from Harry's head. Severus proposes Hermione come to stay with him while she's researching...
Chapter 60
Publicly, a solemn Dumbledore announced that the ailing Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were being treated by specialists from St Mungo's in the Hospital Wing, and that if anyone had any information on the attack or incident that they should come forward immediately.
If his self-control had been less than it was, Severus would have been fidgeting through dinner as Dumbledore addressed the students. Earlier, while everyone had been occupied, Hermione would have left the Weasley boy to Safe House Three, where he would work with Diggory on Order business for the next two weeks. Hermione then would have returned Potter to Hogwarts… and then, perhaps, let herself into his rooms.
She would be there when he returned. He wondered if she would want to spend the evening with him, or if she would want to immediately start working with Yaxley. Would she be waiting for him, curled in her armchair with one of his books? Or grading papers at his desk? Or, perhaps, stretched out on the sofa as she had been one time, firelight making the skin on her bare back glow warm and golden?
He swallowed hard, pushing thoughts of Hermione away. Severus scanned the Great Hall, paying attention to where Potter and the Weasley girl sat with their heads together, speaking softly. Tonks was a nondescript shadow near the Gryffindor table – she had agreed to take on the burden of protecting Harry while Hermione was otherwise occupied, but she was keeping her distance. Potter seemed small and alone in the Great Hall without his usual flanking of bright red and bushy brown hair. However, it seemed like the youngest Weasley had attached himself to his side, busying herself by glaring at everyone as if she could keep the rumors at bay singlehandedly.
And rumors there were – some students, it seemed, suspected Harry Potter of poisoning his friends himself, as a kind of sociopathic budding Dark Lord in training. There were swaths of students, younger ones especially, who parted before the moody teen and his new shadow. Of course, the poisonings were an excuse for extra guards in the corridors, Aurors in blue uniforms becoming a common sight between classes. Potter had to put up with the usual mocking from his Slytherins, jokes about how his only friends had tried to off themselves because they detested him so. Through it all, Potter bore the comments silently, the mulish set of his jaw winding tighter and tighter.
Severus turned his gaze to his godson. Draco sat flanked by Gregory and Vincent. He lounged, bored and princely. Only because he had known the child his entire life could Severus see the way tension drew his shoulders taunt, made him brusque with Pansy and Blaise.
Hidden in a mansion in the countryside, the Dark Lord gloated. Draco, while not rewarded for completing his task, had been praised for felling both of Harry Potter's closest friends. While the Dark Lord knew that Hermione Granger had been trained to protect Potter, he was suspicious that Weasley was a similar genre of protector.
"Both of them! Both of them, my boy, the mudblood and the blood traitor," he had crooned at Draco. "If they die, you will be well rewarded. Paving the way to ensure the boy is mine."
Draco had nodded warily, knowing in the back of his mind that they would not, in fact, die, and fearing the punishment that would ensue. For now, he was a pale shadow at the Dark Lord's side. His mother smiled tremulously at Severus and took the opportunity to give her son a long embrace. Draco returned the castle by sunrise, and away in the manor the Dark Lord waited for news.
And so it seemed the plan had worked. Draco's position of trust with the Dark Lord had been strengthened. Hermione had time away to research, and he was as far removed as possible from his godson's successes and failures. And, so far, Kingsley had said nothing to either Severus or, it seemed, Albus Dumbledore about the change in Severus' Patronus. When Hermione returned to him, he would need to discuss with her how to proceed. A change, any perceived change in his loyalties, could be disastrous.
At his side, Minerva was tightlipped. She hadn't known about the plan in advance, but knew that Hermione and Weasley were moving to the Safe House that night. "I hate to see him there all alone," she was murmuring to Flitwick, on her other side. "Imagine how far behind Mr. Weasley will be when he returns, Merlin willing."
Flitwick chortled. "Not with the Granger girl there to catch him up as soon as they're both awake," he said sagely, pointing a fork topped with a roasted potato at Minerva. "That girl will be hitting him over the head with the books before the poor boy can stand."
Farther down the table, Slughorn was basking in the praise rolling in from Hooch and Sprout. "Antidotes are tricky things," he was saying pompously. Severus ground his teeth. "It took me skill, a good hunch, and a fair bit of luck to figure out what direction to go in. Potter bought me time, of course, with the bezoars, but it was tight! Why-"
"I'm retiring for the night," Severus snapped, rising from the table.
Minerva glanced at him. "Very well, Severus, no need to announce. Don't forget we have our usual Monday staff meeting tomorrow evening." While her words meant little, there was a small bit of warmth behind her eyes. She knew – or at least suspected – who had really brewed the antidote that had saved her precious lions.
Severus gave her a curt nod, and left the Great Hall, robes billowing around him. There was a knot of anxiety and anticipation in his belly. His mind kept replaying the image of Hermione, fallen asleep while waiting for him, almost nude on his couch. Hermione, in his rooms. In the closest thing he had to a home, waiting for him. For two weeks, she would be there, every evening. What would they do with a silver of domestic bliss, a hint of what life could be like after the war? Would it be too much time together? Would they argue and snap? Or would it be so wonderful that the end of those two weeks would hang over them like a specter?
When he crossed through his potions cabinet and into his living room the scene awaiting him made Severus frown. While there was a fire roaring in the hearth and a sleeping Crookshanks occupying Hermione's usual armchair, there was no other sign of Hermione in his quarters. He felt irrationally disappointed – he had thought she would be there waiting for him. In fact, he had been sure of it. But if there was one trait he shared with his lover, it was focus. If he had the tools to unwind a riddle waiting for him, not much would keep him from it, he supposed.
Severus stalked through the living room to his bedroom, feeling his mood grow blacker with each step. He was trying to rein it in, thinking desperately of his father's own black moods. "Don't be so put out you're a miserable bastard when she actually gets here," he muttered to himself, scowling. He shrugged off his robes, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up briskly. He was about to leave his bedroom when he noticed the crack of light under the door to the bathroom. His nose twitched – he could smell steam and sandalwood.
He pushed open the door to the bathroom and stopped in the doorway. If he had less control over his mind, a red blush would be spreading across his face. His foul mood melted away as he inhaled the steam in the air.
The large sunken tub was full almost to the brim with steaming water and foaming bubbles and beautiful woman. He could see Hermione's smooth chest and neck, but white foam kept her breasts hidden. Candles were floating in the air and tucked into the niches in the stone walls along two sides of the tub, giving the stone room a warm glow and weaving gold threads in the pile of dark curls balanced precariously atop her head. Her wand was held lazily in one hand, flicking as she turned the pages in the book floating in front of her face.
She noticed him almost immediately, a warm sweet smile spreading across her face. With a swish of her wand, her book snapped shut and floated over to the small table where her clothes were folded. "Severus," she said happily. "I thought you'd be longer at dinner!"
Severus' chest felt tight and fragile looking at her, fondness and desire rising to his gaze. "I couldn't wait to see you," he said haltingly, honestly. It fought against every instinct he had to tell her the truth that he had missed her, to open his longing to her view, to give her that power. But seeing the delight that spread across her face, he felt that it was worth it to feel so exposed.
She lifted a hand out of the bubbles, beckoning to him. "Would you like to join me?" Her eyes were dark and framed with long lashes, creased with a smile. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from the warmth of the bath, and so looked so alive, so soft, so sensual.
He felt caught and awkward, wanting desperately to join her and feeling a prickle of embarrassment. "Do you want me to? Or – was I interrupting?" Oh Merlin – I just burst in on her.
Something saucy crossed her face, and Hermione sat up in the tub. His eyes fell from her face to her chest, where her breasts, laced with foam and bubbles, appeared, the tips of her nipples hardening in the contrasting cool of the air. "I have to admit that while I didn't plan to be interrupted…" she trailed off, giving him a quirked half smile. "Well, I can't say the thought of being interrupted didn't cross my mind." She licked her lips, drawing his eyes to her face once more.
"You're beautiful," he told her, sincerity in his voice. "I'd be happy to join you."
"Then you need to get undressed," she said playfully. "Do you want me to close my eyes?"
Severus snorted. "I'm afraid there isn't much to admire on my end," he said wryly. "I'm no Viktor Krum." As he folded his arms, he could feel the phantom ache of old wounds, the ache that felt like age despite his scant thirty-six years.
"I beg to differ," said Hermione softly. "You… I love your body, Severus." She beckoned him closer, and he came, reluctantly. "Will you undress for me? Or would you like me to undress you?" Her hand reached for his, tracing the veins on the back of his hand.
Severus sighed, looking down at her. "Why is it that you can make me so unsure?" he asked, voice roughening. "I want to be enough for you, Hermione. Around other people, I'm fine, but when it comes to you… you both fill me with confidence and make me feel like a scared teenager again."
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels unsure,' Hermione admitted, tilting her head as she gazed up at him with frank and open eyes. "But you make me feel so wonderful, Severus. You let me know how beautiful you find me and I want to do the same for you." She smiled up at him. "I love you, Severus Snape. Come and join me." With a wave of her hand, she extinguished two thirds of the candles, leaving them only a few flickering lights.
Slowly he undressed in front of her, taking his time unbuttoning each button of his white shirt, then shrugging it from his shoulders in a fluid movement. Through it all her eyes were on him, soft and warm. His pants followed, then he pulled down his underwear and socks all in one movement. He muttered a quick cleaning charm, ridding himself of any sweat, dirt, or potions residue on his skin. One never knew what would react with the chemicals in the soaps – green hands for three days as the only lesson he had needed there. He stood before her, nude and still. Inside, he quelled the urge to squirm or cover himself.
"Come here, my love," she said softly, holding a hand out to him. With a sign of relief, Severus lowered himself into the water, glad for the cover of the bubbles. He was not a fan of bubble baths himself, finding them rather frivolous, but for once he was grateful that his scrawny chest was covered.
Hermione smiled at him, running her toes along his leg. "Look at me," she commanded, meeting his eyes. "See for yourself, Severus."
He met her honey eyes and was inside her mind in a moment. She pulled him along to the memory of him undressing before her. It was odd seeing himself from her eyes, seeing the harsh lines of his impassive face and the tension in his shoulders. She knew him so well – he could see through her eyes as she noted the tightness of his frame, the subtle signs of his discomfort.
Her – and therefore his – gaze flicked to his hands as he began to unbutton his shirt, and he felt the slow rise of arousal in her body, a slow stirring in her belly. See what your hands do to me? Hermione asked in her mind, sending a smile to him. There was admiration in her as his shirt drifted to the floor, and the planes of his chest and abdomen were bared to the flickering lights and shadows from the candles. From her mind his shoulders were broad and strong, the wiry muscles on his arms and chest appealing. There was anxiety in her mind too as he left behind the rest of his clothes, the reflexive clench of her muscles at the sight and size of his cock. She noted his muscular thighs, the sparse hair on his legs and chest, the silvery lines of scars scattered about his body, and in all of her regard was love and affection.
Severus pulled out of her mind slowly, closing his eyes only after the connection was broken. A moment later, there was curly hair under his nose, and a warm body nestled up against him. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his hooked nose in her hair. Hermione's skin was slick, pebbling as his colder body met hers. He felt her sigh, turn her head to press a kiss to his shoulder.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he asked, voice muffled in her curls.
Hermione laughed and he felt it in his chest. "Hmmm… maybe it's all the times you've saved my skin. This time included."
They relaxed for a few moments in the hot water and steamy air, Hermione settling into his chest comfortably. He stroked the skin of her stomach where he held her to him and enjoyed the feeling of warmth sinking down into his bones. Despite no longer living in the dungeons, he often felt like he was still never warm, was still surrounded by darkness, depth, lake. Feeling warm was a luxury, feeling itself was a luxury. Being with Hermione made him feel present, made him want to experience everything his senses had to offer.
Hermione broke the silence, clasping his hand as she spoke. "Why do you think you're still shy in front of me, Severus? I know I haven't seen you nude much, I suppose, but…" she trailed off, thinking as she played with his fingers. "You're always so confident."
Severus frowned into her hair. "Wrong," he said firmly. "Or – rather, I'm confident in my abilities. I know I am a talented Potions Master, and am confident – some would say arrogant – in my estimation of my skill. I know I am a good spy – I'm alive after all, and have been playing this game for close to two decades. My proficiency as a wizard is without question, my adeptness with a wand, with wandless and wordless magic, my knowledge of the Dark Arts and of healing spells… Before my colleagues, before my students, before Order members and Death Eaters… of course I'm confident. It doesn't matter what others may think of my personality, my appearance, my… other skills." His voice dipped low at the end of the sentence, and his thumb brushed against one nipple, sending a flutter into Hermione's belly.
"So you don't care what others think of you," Hermione summarized, squeezing his other hand. "But…"
"But you are different," Severus said, almost reluctantly. "I want you to – I want – I need you to –" he fumbled, unsure even of what he wanted to say. "Most people who want something of me want things I know I can give," he said finally. "My wand, my potions, my life, my skills… I am a means to an end. My wants matter little, if at all. With you… you make me want to be better, Hermione. Your esteem, your care, your desire… all of these things I want desperately from you, and I fear falling short." Something caught at his throat, making his voice rougher. "I have fallen short," he admitted. "I trust you when you say you want me, but I can't help but consider where I fall short when you deserve the world."
Hermione was quiet for a long moment. Only the sounds of their breathing and the quiet lapping of the water when one of them shifted accompanied their thoughts. "I have the same fears," she said finally. "I know what it is, Severus, to be bound body and soul to duty. I've given the Order my childhood, my friendships, my normalcy – I know what it is to wonder if I mean anything more than my purpose. When it comes to guarding Harry, to supporting the Order, I know that all I need to do is study harder, push myself harder, spend more time thinking and practicing and staying vigilant. But when it comes to pleasing you, Severus, I sometimes feel like I don't know what I'm doing."
In the steam and the dark and water, without having to look at each other, their vulnerability hung in the damp air. Severus held Hermione tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. "You are everything that I want," he told her, voice low and tender.
Hermione twisted in his arms, arching to press a kiss to his lips. "You're everything I want too, Severus." Her small hands went to the back of his head, her fingers caressing his scalp, tugging him down to her. She kissed him passionately, and before he knew it, she was straddling him, her chest pressed to his.
A warm tongue slipped into his mouth and he groaned, clutching her slick body to his. Normally she was so soft, so warm, but it was electric to feel her skin slippery and lithe against him. Her thighs were tight with muscle, her back scarred against his arms, her mouth hot as she nipped at his neck. Every time she shifted, her arse brushed against his cock, aching and hard now, burning like a brand between them in the water. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to possess her all at once.
"Do you trust me, Hermione?" he asked, voice ragged as her lips traced his ear.
"Always," she said, her voice just as rough.
He curled an arm around her waist, then in a swift moment drew her under him, barely making a splash in the water. He kissed her deeply as she wound her arms around his neck. His heart pounded in anticipation as he made space between their bodies, slipping a hand up her thigh and tracing her curls with one finger. She shuddered in his arms, her breath coming fast.
"Can I taste you?" he asked her, voice low in her ear. "Can I kiss you here?"
Her eyes were dark as they met his, faint glimmers of candlelight showing both her eagerness and her hesitation. "Do you want to?" she asked him.
"Yes," he replied, and the obvious desire in his voice surprised even him.
She smiled at him then, the curve her lips brazen and shy, wanting and hesitant and trusting of him. "Then yes," she said, pulling him down to kiss him once more.
In a smooth motion, Severus hoisted Hermione onto the edge of the sunken pool, pulling her hips to the ledge as she leaned into the corner made by the two walls. She gasped as her skin made contact with the cold stone, and her thighs tensed in his hands. Water streamed down her body, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Severus kissed her, slanting his mouth over hers possessively, before moving down to the rosy nipples that topped the swells of her breasts. They were hard and apparently quite sensitive, going by the sounds Hermione made as he teased them with his tongue, then gently nipped with his teeth. He kissed down the scar that snaked between her breasts, going down her belly before pressing a kiss to where it ended, curled around her right hip. She was tense in his hands, with anticipation, he hoped.
He looked up at her from between her thighs, searching her face for a moment, checking in to make sure she was as eager as she had been. Hermione looked stretched taunt with want, her lower lip between her teeth. Keeping her eyes with his, he brushed his thumb across her slit, barely touching her. Her hips bucked under his hand, and he couldn't keep a smirk from his face as she let out a breathy sound, almost like a laugh.
At first she didn't taste of anything – just clean, just water – but as he lapped at her, teased her with his tongue and with his fingers, he finally tasted her salt. Hermione cried out above him, her fingers found their way to his hair, she bucked against him. She was unrestrained and surprised with the intensity of the feeling, and he felt pride grow within him, even as he ignored the pressing hardness between his legs. He lived for this feeling, for the desire to make her clench around his fingers, to make her say in that pleading way, "Please, do that, yes, Severus, just that-"
Afterward, she slithered down against him, into the water, and it only took two pumps of her hand for him to find his own release, the taste of her still on his lips. Feeling sated and drained, he Vanished the water from around them, calling his wand to him and murmuring a cleaning spell and a drying spell.
"That's lovely," Hermione said dreamily, leaning into him as he guided them both up, then down the steps out of the tub. "Feels like an invisible hairdryer."
"After all that work, you're impressed with the drying charm?" he asked her wryly, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her to him.
Hermione laughed softly, slipping her arms around him and pressing herself against him. "That felt amazing, Severus," she told him sincerely, craning her neck to look up at him. "We will definitely have to do that again." She stretched up and kissed him deeply, pulling his head down to hers.
He kissed her back, feeling again that warm tenderness toward her nearly overwhelm him. When she pulled away after a long moment, she was smiling at him. "To bed?" he asked softly. "You've had a long day."
Hermione beamed at him. "We get to go to bed together," she told him, a ridiculous grin on her face. "And sleep all night, then wake up tomorrow without me having to sneak off to my rooms."
"An entire night with you in my bed…" he drawled. "Should I expect to have any covers left come morning?"
"Absolutely not," she told him, then kissed him quickly before pulling away and walking toward the bedroom. Severus followed her, unable to keep a smile from his face.
The next morning, Severus woke long before the sun shone its weak October light into his still-unfamiliar tower rooms. He was used to waking early – it had been his habit for years. He had never been a man who had slept much, often plagued by insomnia. During the first war he had experimented with sleeping potions, alcohol, drugs once or twice… but in the end he had simply risen when his body had commanded him to, unable to bear lying awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Better to brew, to fight invisible enemies, to add to his spelled journals of secrets, than to be tangled in sheets and self-hatred.
He had found, however, that with Hermione in the bed with him, snuffling softly and flinging her limbs about him, being in bed was bearable even if he could not sleep. Severus breathed with her, enjoying the warmth of her. She was curled on her side, clutching great swaths of his comforter, leaving him little choice but to curl tightly behind her to stay warm. Her bushy curls tickled his nose, but smelled wonderful, like his shampoo and her scent.
Severus woke her slowly, pressing kisses to her neck and stroking her belly with his hands. She protested sleepily, but eventually turned and draped herself over him, blinking her eyes open slowly.
"What time is it?" she asked, only half awake.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Half past four," he said casually.
Hermione huffed, closing her eyes again. "You're a bastard," she said with as much decisiveness as she could manage. "Bastard."
"I wanted to show you where Yaxley is before students awake," he said, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. "You knew I was a bastard when we started all of this."
That woke her up. Hermione sighed and stretched, and his eyes went appreciatively to her breasts. "Fine. I did want to start with him today, and I wasn't sure what time you'd get home. You have a staff meeting tonight, right?"
"Yes, darling," he drawled sarcastically, odd feeling rising at the… domesticity of it all. "I might be late tonight."
They dressed quickly, Hermione ducking into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wrestle her hair into a bun. Severus sipped on a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette, waiting for her to finish.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded at him, then Disillusioned herself. No one would question Severus stalking the dungeons at this hour, but the pair of them would make the portraits gossip. Severus walked over the wall near the fireplace and showed Hermione that the small door she had assumed to be a closet actually opened into a wall in the dungeons. It was like looking out into the hallway through darkly tinted cling film – pushing through the stone was like pushing through thick marshmallow, and then they were in a corridor. The wall scones flared to life at their presence, illuminating a hall not far from the Slytherin dorms.
"Brilliant," Hermione murmured. "That's convenient."
Now, far from the safety of his rooms, Severus did not allow even a thin smile to cross his lips. "Indeed."
He lead her deeper into the dungeons, to the places where the Bloody Baron was rumored to roam, then down again. It was only a few more minutes before he stopped in front of another stretch of blank wall, unremarkable except for the fact Hermione felt like she was walking into spiderwebs, a classic sign of strong runic wards. She brushed her hand over her face out of habit, shuddering slightly.
"Uncomfortable, I know," he murmured. "I felt that even if a student made it this far down, the webby feeling might make them turn around."
Hermione glanced around, then revealed herself once again. "You'd be right – I'm not fond of it. Where are we exactly?"
"Directly under the dungeons," Severus said quietly. "On the off chance that the Dark Lord can detect his presence." He began to key her into the wards, chanting and weaving his wand into the space in front of the door that was slowly appearing.
Hermione felt a rush of anxiety in that moment – if the Dark Lord even suspected what they were doing, even thought for a chance they might be harboring one of his Death Eaters, there would be hell to pay for Severus and for Draco. She swallowed down the anxiety, quelling it as best she could.
It was only moments before she could see the hazy door clearly. Hermione took in a breath, squaring her shoulders. "He'll be out?"
Severus nodded. "Completely. I drugged him – I'll give you the antidote for if you'd like to wake him." He passed her a small vial filled with a light blue potion. Without hesitation, he grasped the door handle and pushed it in, revealing a large room that had been clearly set up for experimentation.
Yaxley was chained to a sturdy stone throne that seemed to emerge, seamless, from the floor. His head lolled, gaunt and thin-necked, and there was a long line of drool down his chin. He was enclosed in a protective circle, clearly the work of her Potions Master. Beyond him, he had thoughtfully set up a work station for her, prepped with chalkboards and what looked like a large lab table. Sheets of parchment and fresh quills were waiting for her, as were multiple colors of chalk.
Hermione circled the table, picking up the chalk to examine it. She beamed at Severus, coming over and placing a tender hand on his arm. "Thank you, Severus."
He gave her a look that insisted he had no idea what she was talking about, and cleared his throat. "When you are outside the circle, you are fine," Severus said brusquely, changing the subject. "Within it, he could hurt you if he got free."
"So I won't let him get free," she said, moving closer to the prone man. "Where are the gems that storing his magic?"
They were attached to the shackles binding his wrists and ankles, pressed to his pulse points with iron. Working since the night of the poisoning, they had succeeded in draining the man of most of his magical power. When Hermione reached out with her magic, testing what she saw before her, he was barely more magical than Filch. Severus showed her how to manage the shackles multiple times, and how to change the warding on the room if she wanted to do something that would exude more magic or more noise.
"No one should bother you down here," he said finally, crossing his arms. "Is there anything else you need, Hermione?"
She shook her head, wandering over to the desk. "Not in terms of supplies, Severus, you've covered it quite well. I think the only thing I need is that opal necklace that we… confiscated from Draco. I have an experiment or two in mind, but I think that will come near the end of what I need to do with Yaxley."
Severus nodded, then crossed the room to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you tonight," he said quietly. "I'll be later than usual – what time should I expect you?"
"Eight?" she suggested. "If I'm not back by then, come and fetch me. You know how I get when I'm working on a project." She gave him a light smile, but her eyes darted to the parchment.
He knew what she looked like when she was eager to get started – with one more brush of his lips across hers, he left the room to let her work.
Time passed oddly down in the dungeons – Hermione wasn't sure if it was the lack of natural sunlight or her wholehearted focus on the task before her, but she didn't pause in her work until her old back injury flared in protest. It was upon sitting down that she noticed that her belly was growling with hunger. With a sigh, Hermione flicked her wand a muttered a spell that obscured Yaxley from view. A few moments later, she had a small pile of sandwiches from the kitchens in front of her on the lab table, courtesy of a floppy-eared house-elf.
As Hermione tucked into the food, she re-read what she had written on the chalkboard, mind scanning ahead. She had always worked best visually – it was helpful to see the enormity of the tasks she had set herself on display in this manner.
The first problem, the one that weighed the most heavily on her, was the Horcux in Harry's head. There were numerous problems branching out from that one: Was Harry's soul connected in some way to the Dark Lord's? Were they intertwined, or just existing in close proximity to each other? How could one remove the Horcrux – namely without Harry's death? If they couldn't remove the Horcrux without removing it and Harry's soul from Harry's body, was it possible to separate and return a soul?
The list of experimental ideas was rather limited, Hermione was afraid. The clearest option for removing souls was a Dementor – but they were notoriously dark and unreliable. While Hermione believed in the capacity for good in most creatures, Dementors were another story. That left her with devising a ritual of some sort or using some kind of magical device. Mirrors would be useful in a ritual, if her reading had been correct. The opal necklace that Draco had purchased from Borgin and Burkes might also prove to be useful – albeit dangerous. She didn't know how it would work and would need to run many tests on it. Which… was where the sleeping Yaxley came in. The footnote she had read right before her poisoning suggested that a bonding charm might be helpful in containing a soul or placing boundaries of some kind in a soul – she needed to do more research there.
So that was one problem, more or less.
The second problem was multi-layered. What was the Dark Mark? How did it work? How did the Dark Lord draw power from them? She wondered if she could reverse the Mark to locate the Dark Lord, or if it was connected to his magic, his person, or also whatever fragment of soul rested in the Dark Lord's main form. Removing the Dark Mark could be a powerful lure to the side of light – if Hermione could remove it from Death Eaters, a major obstacle to spies and turncoats would be removed. And, of course, Draco would be able to survive the death of the Dark Lord.
To tackle this, Hermione anticipated needing to experiment on Yaxley's Mark, but in a way that would not alert the Dark Lord to what she was doing. She would also, maybe, need to look through Yaxley's memories of being Marked, or the Marking ceremonies of others.
She felt a twinge of something she couldn't quite name – she knew that Severus would be upset if she did that, instead of asking him the questions she wanted to know. Severus still adamantly refused to let her view his memories of Death Eater gatherings. Hermione chewed on her lip as she considered, but she kept coming back to the same conclusion. She needed to see if for herself.
The other work she wanted to do during this small vacation was to focus on the information Secret-Keeping spell that she and Severus had discussed with Dumbledore and then Kingsley. If the Inner and even Outer Circles of the Order were to have more information, it needed to be protected. This, Hermione was excited to work on, and even see if Severus could help her with. He was more experienced at developing spells than she was, if she had judged the copy of his old potions book right. She had never seen most of the spells scribbled in the margins, and was itching to try them out in the practice room.
Finally, she wanted to meet with Severus and Draco and figure out a way to plant a story about the Deathly Hallows. It would take time to research, craft a plausible story, then lay the breadcrumbs out such that the Dark Lord would buy it hook, line, and sinker. Deliver it via Severus too soon and with too little evidence, and the Dark Lord and his more loyal Death Eaters would figure out it was a ruse. Severus would lose his place or his life, and the Dark Lord would feel humiliated. Plant it too late, and they wouldn't be able to figure out the best way to use it, or to reveal what had actually happened to Dumbledore's hand.
Well. There was a lot to tackle, and only two weeks. Or…
"I could split my time," Hermione murmured to herself. "One turnaround here, with Yaxley. One turn around to sleep. One turn around in the library researching, one more turn to sleep. One turn around in Severus' rooms, and then one more chance to sleep. I may have to use the Room of Requirement since my dorm isn't an option…" She traced her lips with her finger, a habit she had picked up from her Potions Master. It would be a lot of time manipulation – it would triple her research vacation into six weeks instead of two, and there was so much more she could accomplish. Still, part of Hermione felt uneasy at the prospect, unsure if it was about the lure of more time, or the unraveling feeling she sometimes experienced caught in the whirling winds of time.
With a flick of her wand, "Time Turners" appeared on the last available space on the blackboard, the white chalk delicately balancing in the air. If she had time, she would address the question of the Time Turner. If she had time, if she had time… Hermione always had time.
And so ends Chapter 60.
60 chapters in already! If you haven't seen it already, I'm posting this story to AO3 as well, after resisting for a long time. It's not plagarism, it's me! However, AO3 folks are SO BAD at commenting. I love all of you and all of your FEEDBACK and REVIEWS. I truly live for the interactions. Also- I love that we've passed ONE MILLION views. WOW. I'd love to give back to you all... and no one ever claimed the 3000th review one shot. Feel free to leave a SSHG oneshot prompt with your review, and if I get coronavirus quarantined I'll write a one shot!
LIFE UPDATES: So many of you love these, so I gotta keep it coming! Life is... complicated! I got into grad school - which wow, crazy. I'm changing career paths! I'm in the fortunate position of trying to decide between two Ivy League (including the big H!) MPH degrees (and probably like 50k of loans) or a non Ivy League but very highly ranked doctorate program where I have one year of guaranteed funding but will have to duke it out the rest of the time. If anyone is in this field, please PM me! My brother is getting married this weekend, and he invited us, at least. He's made a lot of decisions (dropping out of his service academy with a year to go, taking on mountains of debt, getting married at 20 during a pandemic) and they are all his to make I suppose. My lovely girlfriend and I are doing well! She has also applied to graduate school, and we are crossing our fingers that it will work out and we will both be in the same place. Which is terrifying. We've crossed four years! I love her! It's great! I just hope we don't have to spend a PhD worth of time apart.
I've been overwhelmed with all of the lovely reviews I've gotten from you all! Can't wait to hear from all of my lovely readers, and thanks for joining again! After 10 YEARS of writing this story, I've finally gotten a decent plan for how it all will end and I can't wait to share it with you all. Until next time!
