Hermione grimaced as she took the proffered goblet from the hands of Horace Slughorn and regarded the smoking cup with feelings of nausea, gratitude and disgust. Granted, this was a strange combination, but this was the reaction that the wolfsbane potion elicited from her.

Nausea at the reason she needed to take it in the first place; gratitude that she had access to the potion and was thus able to control her condition to an extent; and finally, disgust at the Godawful smell that seemed to leech into every nook and cranny of Professor Slughorn's laboratory.

She eyed the cup doubtfully for a moment before pinching her nose between her thumb and forefinger and quickly taking a large mouthful. She fought against the gag reflex that threatened to negate the whole process and took another drink, repeating the action three times before finally draining the contents. She paused for a moment once she'd finished, gathering herself.

She shuddered, her entire body feeling as if it had ice coursing through her veins.

I'll never get used to this.

It was always the same. She simply did not have the words to express how foul the potion tasted and the fact that she'd have to repeat this exercise every morning for a week until the full moon on the 9th July did not improve her mood.

Nor did the look of amusement on the face of Harry bloody Potter. He stood watching her with that damn cute smile of his plastered all over his face. A smile that was evident despite the fact that he too had to drink the potion.

She watched carefully as Harry took his goblet from Professor Slughorn and felt herself becoming strangely annoyed at his cavalier approach. He simply put the goblet to his lips and necked the entire contents in one fell swoop, handing the cup back to the professor.

And he's still smiling, Damn him!

Despite herself, she couldn't help but return his smile. They'd been doing that a lot since yesterday; stupidly grinning at each other for no apparent reason.

'Ready to go?' asked Harry. 'I said we'd meet Bill down by the great hall. He'll be there in a few minutes,' he added.

She nodded her acquiescence and offered him her hand, still experiencing a thrill run through her as he took it. She found herself grinning again. She couldn't help it.

'Thank you, Professor,' she said, turning to face Slughorn. 'We'll be back at the same time tomorrow. Enjoy your day,' she added.

They turned and left the laboratory together and she simply revelled in Harry's presence. She was pleased that neither of them were acting awkwardly with the other and was also relieved that they did not feel the need to speak simply to fill a silence. They'd been too close to each other for too long for any discomfort to develop and she was enjoying the chance to sort out her own thoughts and feelings. She'd been doing that a lot since yesterday afternoon.

She still found their new relationship status slightly surreal. After sharing such passionate kisses with each other beside the Quidditch pitch, they had decided to go for a walk around the lake, taking the opportunity to come to terms with what had occurred. They hadn't said much to each other at first, both simply content with holding hands as they ambled along the shore. It was during this walk that she'd realised just how much of a sense of belonging she was experiencing; a feeling she instinctively knew Harry shared.

After their walk, they'd headed up to the Gryffindor common room, preferring to share a light supper in front of the fire as they had finally spoken of their feelings for each other. They'd talked long into the night and it was with some reluctance that they had finally parted to go to their respective dorm rooms. There had been a brief moment where neither had wanted the day to end before she'd finally broken free from his embrace and headed up the stairs, still scarcely believing the love that she felt for him and felt from him in return.

And it is love.

Despite feeling guilty for doing so, she could not help but compare her feelings for Harry with her aborted romance with Ron and she now considered the latter as one of her greatest errors.

Why did I ever think Ron was right for me?

The simple truth was that she could not help but compare two of the most important men in her life and that when she did so, Ron came up short in comparison to Harry. She loved Ron, after a fashion, but that love was not the all-encompassing passion she felt for Harry. She knew now that it was a familial love and it had taken just one kiss from Harry to make her realise this.

She felt guilty for doing so, but she could not help but think that Ron's greatest problem was his belief that he was always second best to Harry and she knew that this new relationship would only compound these feelings and further fuel his jealousy. She also knew that she must never, ever, tell Ron that he was second best.

But Ron is second best, said the little voice in her head. He doesn't value me the way Harry does. Harry never insults me; never puts me down to alleviate his own feelings of inadequacy. He always supports me, is always willing to listen to what I have to say, even if he doesn't agree with me. He values me for being me. He's never tried to change me; he's always accepted and loved me for who and what I am.

He loves me unconditionally.

And that was what love was supposed to be, wasn't it?

She realised with feelings of shame and regret that she'd wasted the best part of two years investing so much of her emotional self into the wrong man.

I settled. For the first time in my life, I settled.

'Are you OK?' asked Harry in a soft voice as he gently squeezed her hand. 'You seemed to come over a little…uneasy there. Everything OK?'

She started out of her musings and took in her surroundings, realising they were nearing the entrance to the great hall. She considered his question, cursing for a second the new insights their condition allowed, before finally squeezing his hand in return.

'I'm OK. I was just thinking about Ron. About the wasted time,' she added, failing to meet his eyes.

'Hey. Don't worry about it. There's no point in worrying about it now. We never wasted anything.'

'Yes, we did. I did! I wasted two years mooning over Ron and I encouraged Ginny and you to be together. That could have been us. Should have been us! We could have had this sooner, Harry. We could have had this in sixth year. Could have been together all that time.'

She could tell he was pondering her words, wondering what might have been had things been different. After what seemed an age, he finally replied.

'It doesn't matter, Hermione. We have each other now. Besides; if we were together when Voldemort was still alive, we might not have defeated him.'

This stopped her in her tracks and she actually yanked him back towards her as he had continued walking on while still holding her hand.

'What do you mean? Why would you and I being together have made us weaker? Why wouldn't we have defeated him as a couple?' she demanded, and there was real hurt in her voice as – for the first time – she felt Harry was questioning her abilities.

Harry sensed her hurt and took her in his arms. He took a moment to formulate his reply.

'Don't you remember what I said after Remus and Tonks' funeral?' he asked, softly. 'You would not have left my side, Hermione, so I would not have been able to slip into the forest without you. And if you were by my side, I would not have allowed you to come with me to face him, and you would not have let me go on alone.'

'Harry…' she began.

'Let me finish, Hermione. Even if, by some miracle, I could have talked you into remaining behind, I don't think I would have been able to say goodbye to you.' He licked his lips before continuing. 'If I had you then, the way I have you now, I would never have been able to leave you. It worked out for the best that we were not together like this. I would never have given you up. Not for anything. Not then. Not now. Not ever.'

She had no response to this declaration. It simply took her breath away and she felt tears of happiness welling in her eyes. In lieu of a reply, she threw her arms around him even tighter and held him as if she never wanted to let go. She had no idea how long they remained in each other's arms before their moment of intimacy was interrupted.

'Ahem!'

It was possibly the loudest stage whisper she had ever heard and when she broke from Harry's embrace, she turned to see the smiling face of Bill Weasley. He was dressed casually in jeans and a white t-shirt and had a brown leather satchel slung over one shoulder and he had a broad grin on his face. She felt her cheeks redden and she quickly stepped away from Harry, putting some space between them.

'Hi, Bill,' said Harry, and she could detect hurt in his voice. 'You ready to leave?'

Bill's grin widened at Harry's response before he glanced at his watch. 'Yeah, I'm ready if you are. Just one thing before we go, if that's OK?'

Harry and Hermione nodded their assent.

'I've arranged for Ron to meet us in Hogsmeade. McGonagall suggested that he come with us and I'm inclined to agree.'

Bill noticed Harry visibly stiffen at his words and he paused for a moment before continuing.

'I don't know exactly what's going on between the three of you at the moment, but I can hazard a guess.' He stretched out his arms, palms facing them, in order to forestall a reply. 'It's none of my business, it really isn't. But I know that my brother has just suffered a severe personal disappointment. I can also see that the two of you have finally woken up to something the rest of us have known for a long time and I suspect that Ron will really struggle with that. But I also know that the three of you are friends and that you are stronger together. It's why I asked him to come. I hope that's OK?'

'It's fine, Bill,' Hermione replied. 'Ron is still our friend. I just hope he is OK with Harry and I being together, because we're not going to stay apart for his benefit. I'm sorry he's hurt, but I'm not sorry I'm with Harry.'

'I get that, Hermione, I really do. I'm not suggesting for one second that you don't see each other, but can I ask that you show a bit of discretion in front of Ron?'

'We can do that,' replied Hermione. 'Can't we, Harry?' she asked.

Harry did not reply immediately and Hermione became aware of a growing sense of awkwardness as she realised he was looking pointedly down at the space that had that had appeared between them with a frown on his face. Without looking up, he finally nodded his assent.

'Fair enough, Bill. We can do that.' Again, there was a sense of hurt in his voice and she felt annoyed with herself. She'd reacted instinctively at Bill's interruption and she knew she needed to make this right with Harry, but before she could say anything, Bill replied.

'Great, Harry. Thank you. Ready to go?'

'We are,' Harry replied and there was a hint of coldness in his voice. 'Let's get this over with,' he added, before leading them out of the castle doors, leaving his two companions in his wake.

Hermione grimaced, realising that there was something deeper she did not know about, something Harry hadn't told her yet. His annoyance was more than just pique at her own actions. She knew that she'd need to speak to him later, but for now the priority was the mission that faced them. With a final glance at Bill, she shrugged her shoulders and followed Harry out of the castle.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Fenrir Greyback leaned back in his chair and took a swig of beer, allowing the silence to stretch out as his audience pondered the proposal he had just put before them.

They were sitting in a quiet corner of the Twice Brewed Inn, an isolated pub near Hadrian's Wall that mainly relied on the tourist trade for its income. The normal clientele consisted of hikers and cyclists or - as he liked to think of them - prey.

But this was a Thursday morning and the lunchtime rush was yet to begin, an ideal time for him to meet and converse with his…associates.

At first glance, they were nothing out of the ordinary. A group of half a dozen men who looked just like any of the other casual visitors that dropped in and out of this remote pub. But an observant person would notice the subtle similarities; would spot the threadbare clothing and the general lack of personal grooming that this group had in common. It was a small detail, but it did offer a clue to those in the know that these men had something else in common.

That they were all werewolves.

He took another long pull on his pint, draining it completely, and concealed a smile as he rose from his seat and headed to the bar to order a second. He heard the murmuring begin as his guests quietly discussed his words. His smile broadened as he knew where the conversation would lead. He'd never had any problems controlling this group.

He was aware that a lot of people had an almost romanticised view of werewolves, believing that they went around in packs, blindly obedient to an Alpha Wolf that both controlled the pack and guided its members.

This was, of course, utter nonsense.

Greyback knew that werewolves tended to be solitary beings, neither one thing or another. He recalled his own youthful days shortly after his first transformation. He'd travelled across Northern Europe, hoping to run with the wolf packs in Scandinavia and in Russia; to hunt with them and to share the spoils of the chase. It had all seemed very exciting to a young and powerful werewolf.

He frowned at the memory. The reality was still painful to him. The wolves wanted nothing to do with him. They recognised that he was not one of them and they stayed well clear of him. In many ways, their attitude towards him was very similar to the people who knew of his condition and it didn't take him long to work out the reason: he was not considered fully human by other humans, nor was he treated as a wolf by real wolves.

As a result, he was a pariah to both.

It had been a salutary lesson for a young werewolf, and one that had shaped his life ever since. If he could not gain acceptance in either society, he would work to create one that suited him. This was why he'd been a willing supporter of the Dark Lord; he'd been offered a position of real power in the promised New Order and that was something he'd been willing to fight for.

But now that the Dark Lord had been destroyed, the game had changed. The attacks he'd made over the past few months were just his opening gambit in the new war; a reminder to the new Ministry that he was still at large, still a threat. That had been phase one.

Phase two involved this rag-tag group before him. They were not a pack – such things did not exist except in the minds of fools. But he knew that he was still an Alpha, just not for the reasons some would think. Although an extremely powerful werewolf, he was aware that he was also a powerful wizard and that he had a powerful intelligence. It was this combination that allowed him to gain followers and bend them to his will.

For these men were not wolves; in reality, they were sheep. They were pariahs like him and they were afraid. Unable to find work, unable to find a place in a society that despised them, they were easy to lead and thus perfect fodder for his own war games. He knew they'd accept the proposal he'd put in front of them because he'd offered them the one thing they all lacked; acceptance.

So, as he made his way back to his seat, he said nothing, instead choosing to let his guests make the next move. He did not have long to wait; one by one his companions finished their drinks before leaving without saying a word. It was only when the last one to finish stood up to leave that he received his answer.

'Agreed.'

Greyback smiled at the response, content with his day's work. He reached for his pint glass and suddenly tensed as he felt a presence approach him from behind.

He relaxed as he recognised the scent.

'It's done, then?' asked a smooth, silky voice. The figure was cloaked, the face unseen, but Greyback knew exactly to whom he was speaking.

'It is,' Greyback replied. 'They have agreed to the plan.'

'Good.' A leather money bag was dropped on the table, making a clinking noise as it landed. 'I'll be in touch. Make sure they do as they're asked,' the voice added before the cloaked figure brushed past and walked out of the bar.

Greyback eyed the money pouch and smiled. While he wasn't doing any of this for the money, he took pleasure in the fact that his plans had produced this fringe benefit.

Besides, money is always a useful tool to have, he thought to himself as he pocketed the coins and made his own way to the exit.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Bill appeared with a soft pop in an alley behind a rather dingy looking hotel. Harry immediately took his wand out, his eyes alert for any potential non-magical witnesses to their sudden appearance and he breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that no action was necessary; the alley was deserted.

'Where are we?' asked Hermione, curiosity evident in her voice as she took in her new surroundings. Harry had taken the lead when they'd Apparated from Hogsmeade and she wasn't entirely sure where they'd ended up, or how Harry had known where to go.

'We're behind the Railview Hotel in Cokeworth,' Harry replied, pocketing his wand as he did so. 'Snape's house isn't too far from here; just a few minutes' walk,' he added.

Hermione recognised something odd in his tone and wondered if he was still upset at her or whether it was something else. 'How did you know about this place?' she asked carefully.

'This is where Vernon took us when my Hogwarts letters started arriving,' he replied stiffly. 'I never made the connection until Minerva spoke to me, but it must have been Petunia's idea to come here. She and my mum grew up in this town so it would have seemed a good place to try and hide from the owls.' He paused before continuing. 'Because I've been here before, I knew I could Apparate us here,' he added softly.

'Oh.'

Harry could sense her disquiet and turned to look at her. He could feel both the concern radiating from her and the anxiety that she was experiencing because it was clear she thought he was mad at her. He sighed as he calmed himself down. He'd need to speak to her to reassure her that he wasn't angry with her; that his mood was nothing to do with anything she had done to upset him. He'd initially been a little put out when she'd leapt from his embrace after Bill had interrupted them, but his annoyance wasn't with Hermione. Her reaction had been instinctive and he had no issue with that. His ire had been provoked at the mention of Ron's name and he knew that there was a number of unresolved issues that needed resolving. He glanced at the younger Weasley and frowned. He'd need to speak to Hermione about that too, but for the moment, he needed to reassure her.

'Guys, can we have a moment?' he asked. Bill looked surprised but Ron merely scowled resentfully at the request. But Bill seemed to understand that Harry needed some time alone with Hermione, so grabbed Ron by the arm and pulled him towards the end of the alley.

'C'mon, Ron. You and I can check the area to make sure it's safe.'

Harry waited until the two Weasleys rounded the corner before turning to Hermione.

'Come here,' he said quietly, opening his arms. Hermione rushed into his embrace and closed her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

'I'm not angry with you,' he said. 'Really, I'm not and I'm sorry if I've given you cause to think otherwise. It's just that there's something on my mind at the moment. I'll tell you all about it later, if that's OK?'

Hermione nodded her agreement. 'Is it Ron?' she asked tentatively.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, he smiled. She always knows. 'It is. I'll tell you later. Right now, we need to focus on the task in hand. And so does Ron,' he added.

Releasing her from his embrace, he led them out of the alley, Bill and Ron falling in behind once they caught up with them. They walked in silence for a few minutes, along narrow streets lined with identical brick houses. The area was very run down, and as they neared a small iron footbridge that spanned a narrow river, Harry couldn't help but notice the litter that was strewn everywhere and the still, stagnant, brown river water that seemed to sum up the decline of what would once have been a thriving industrial town. In the distance he could see a tall chimney stack thrusting high into the gloom but there was no smoke bellowing from it and he suspected that it had not been in use in years.

He compared this environment to the scenes he had viewed in Snape's memories and he wondered what happened to all the green land that his mum had played in; what had happened to the people who once lived and loved and laughed in this town. Cokeworth was now like a ghost town and as they finally approached Number 3, Spinners End, he thought the analogy appropriate because for him, this town contained only ghosts. It was a sobering thought.

'This is it,' he whispered quietly as he came to a halt in front of a dark, dilapidated wooden door. He turned to Bill, deliberately not looking at Ron. 'I guess this is where we let you take charge,' he added with a forced smile that did not reach his eyes.

Bill nodded and took a quick look around. Once satisfied that they were not being observed, he took out his wand and cast a few charms. 'Just a few tricks to keep any prying eyes away from us,' he explained, before dropping the leather satchel from his shoulder and removing a number of small objects from it and placing them on the ground, a look of grim determination on his face.

Harry, Hermione and Ron watched in fascination as Bill took each object in turn and conducted sweeps of the property in front of them. Occasionally, he would use his wand, making intricate little movements as he murmured a series of charms that were entirely unfamiliar to his audience. Harry turned to Hermione and could not help but smile at the fascinated expression on her face as she watched Bill work. Her brown eyes were wide and shining, her mouth slightly open and her chest heaving with excitement. It struck him just how beautiful she was and he once again wondered what he had done to deserve such a woman in his life. He simply did not have the words to describe what he felt for her. Something inside of him had fundamentally changed since they had kissed the day before and he knew he would never be the same again.

He noticed that Ron was watching him closely, a scowl still on his face, but he ignored it for now. That was a conversation for later. Right now, there was too much at stake and he was very glad that Ron had decided not to speak to them. It made things easier.

After a few minutes, Bill finally let out a long breath. 'That should be it. It's safe to go in now.'

'Did you find anything?' asked Harry.

'Nothing serious,' replied Bill. 'A few minor traps and alarms, but nothing to worry about. 'That's not to say there isn't anything more serious inside, though,' he added with a grim smile. He placed a hand on the door handle. 'Don't touch anything until I say it's safe to do so, OK?'

The three of them nodded their agreement and watched as Bill opened the door and slowly crossed the threshold. After sharing a look, they followed him into the house.

The first thing that struck Harry was just how small the house was. They had stepped directly into a tiny sitting room that was layered with a thick coating of dust. The walls were completely covered in books, most of them bound in dark leather. He noticed Hermione's eyes widen at the sight and he knew that she would want to explore this very personal library once it was safe to do so. There was very little light in the room owing to the small window, and what light there was enabled him to make out only a threadbare sofa, an old armchair and a very rickety wooden table.

He waited patiently as Bill continued to scan the room with his wand, glancing at a small detector in his hand as he did so. Once again, he murmured an occasional incantation and nearly ten minutes passed before he finally straightened up and relaxed. He reached forward towards the bookcase on the far wall and, with slow deliberation, ran his hand along a shelf before settling on one of the books. He pulled this tome out at an angle and Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his head as a door suddenly appeared.

'How did you do that?' he asked Bill, admiration clear in his voice.

Bill merely smiled. 'It's what I do for a living, Harry. I'm Goblin trained, remember. Trust me; I've had to deal with a lot worse than this place. This room is clear,' he added. 'Ron? You come with me while Harry and Hermione make a start down here. It shouldn't take too long,' he finished, before nodding and heading through the door. Ron followed his brother without a backwards glance.

'Fleur's a lucky girl,' said Hermione with more than a hint of awe in her voice. 'That was incredible!' she added.

'Should I be worried?' asked Harry, mischievously. 'Are you bored with me so soon? Do I need to learn how to break curses to keep you interested?'

Hermione gave him a saucy smile. 'No, you're still good just as you are, Harry.' She approached him and placed her arms around his neck. 'But at least this might keep you on your toes…I wouldn't want you to take me for granted,' she added before placing a soft kiss on his lips that lingered for longer than he'd anticipated. Just as he moved to deepen the kiss, she released her grip and turned away from him with a small smile, wiggling her hips as she did so. She winked at him over her shoulder.

'I'll keep that in mind.' he replied, hoarsely. 'I wouldn't want you to get bored, Hermione,' he added with a smile. He could not believe the way she was flirting with him at the moment, but he found this side of her sexy as hell.

'Good,' she replied in a soft voice, before turning her attention to the room at large. 'Now; as invigorating as this is, we need to get to work. I don't know exactly what we are looking for, but I suspect we'll know if we do find something.' She looked at the bookcases on the wall. 'I'll make a start over here; you can start on that side.' She smiled at him. 'The sooner we get this finished, the sooner we can pursue more…enjoyable pursuits,' she added.

Harry needed no further encouragement. He smiled at her before turning his attention to the small table next to him and carefully opening the drawer.

Hopefully this doesn't take too long.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Two hours later, a frustrated Harry Potter conceded defeat. They'd been through the entire house from top to bottom and although they had discovered many interesting objects, they had found nothing that even hinted at Snape being involved in creating whatever it was that Greyback was using to transform at will.

Bill and Ron had re-appeared in the small sitting room about half an hour after they had started their search and the elder Weasley declared that the upper rooms had been cleared of all curses and dangerous objects. After this, the search had intensified. Ron had volunteered to take one of the upper rooms while he and Hermione continued downstairs. Harry had suspected he had done so to avoid him but he wasn't too bothered by this.

After over an hour of fruitless searching, the four of them had congregated in the small sitting room to decide what to do next. To say he was disappointed was something of an understatement.

'So, what now?' he asked as he slumped into the solitary armchair.

Bill shrugged. 'I don't know, Harry. I'm not exactly sure what we expected to find here today, but I expected to find some sort of a lead. A potions book, or some notes or even some samples. But we've found nothing.'

'I know. It's been a complete waste of time,' Ron said bitterly.

Harry hoped that the irritation in Ron's tone was just as a result of the lack of success with the search, but he suspected otherwise. He knew that he and Ron needed to talk, but he was waiting for Ron to make the first overture. He'd made his position clear when he'd last visited the Burrow; the ball was very much in Ron's court at the moment.

One thing I do know; I'm not giving up Hermione just to make him feel better.

He brought himself back to the moment. 'I don't know what to do next. What about you, Hermione? What do you think?' he asked, turning his attention to the girl who sat on the couch opposite.

She did not respond to his question and Harry made to repeat it until he saw the expression on her face. It was clear that something had just occurred to her.

'I'm an idiot!' she suddenly exclaimed. 'How could I have been so stupid!'

'What are you talking about?' he replied. 'Of course, you're not stupid. If you're stupid, what does that make the rest of us?' he asked, trying to inject some levity into proceedings.

She turned to face him, her brown eyes flashing in excitement. 'Don't you see, Harry? Bill's right! We haven't found so much as a potions book or a vial. None of these books are about Potions!' she said, gesturing to the bookcases. 'How did we miss that? We've found nothing about Potions!'

'I know, Hermione,' he replied. 'That's the problem!'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Don't you think it's strange that one of the foremost Potion Masters of our time doesn't have a single thing to do with potions in his own house? Not a book, nor a parchment. There's not even a cauldron in here! Don't you think that's a bit odd?' she asked, rhetorically.

'Shite,' replied Bill. 'I never thought of that.'

'Me neither,' said Harry, realising the importance of what Hermione was saying. 'So, what do you think? Did Snape have another place to live? A potions lab tucked away somewhere?'

'Not exactly,' Hermione replied. 'I think he might have a potions lab tucked away here.' She turned to Bill. 'What do you reckon?'

Bill shook his head. 'I never detected anything, Hermione. I scanned the entire house and didn't find a thing apart from that hidden door in the bookcase.'

'But there could be something else?' Hermione asked. 'There could be something you haven't detected?'

Bill shrugged. 'I guess so. But if there is a secret room here, it must be extremely well hidden for it not to show up on my sensors. These are the most sophisticated magical sensors money can buy,' he added.

Something clicked in Hermione's brain at this statement. 'Maybe we're going about this the wrong way,' she said quietly.

'What do you mean?' asked Bill.

'You said magical sensors,' she replied. She turned to Harry. 'This is Snape's childhood home, right?'

He nodded, excitement rising within him as he caught up with her thinking.

'Snape was a Half-Blood,' Hermione continued. 'His dad was a muggle which means…'

'…that this is a muggle house,' Harry added, 'and if this is a muggle house…'

'…then there could be a muggle hiding place!' they both exclaimed.

Bill looked at the two of them in amazement. 'Merlin, that was like watching Fred and George,' he whispered and a pained look crossed his face at the mention of his departed brother. Ron, too, looked visibly upset at the reminder.

Harry approached the older brother. 'I'll take that as a compliment, Bill. Talking to those two could be like talking to one person at times,' he added with a soft smile.

Bill smiled in return. 'It's an excellent idea though, Hermione. My sensors would not pick up any muggle things. We just don't consider them. I wouldn't begin to know where to look for a hidden muggle room.'

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look at this, their shared muggle upbringing leading both of them to the same conclusion. Their eyes dropped to the worn rug on the floor.

'We need to get this room cleared and this rug lifted,' said Harry. 'If there's anything hidden in here it will most likely be under the house.'

Hermione waved her wand and after a few moments the furniture in the room, including the rug, disappeared to reveal a wooden floor underneath.

'Where did you put it all?' Harry asked.

'Upstairs,' she replied. 'I'll replace it once we're done.'

Harry smiled before turning his attention to the floor. There was nothing immediately obvious; no trapdoor or hidden button. Nothing that indicated a hidden room or compartment.

'I guess we'll need to do this the old-fashioned way,' he said as he dropped onto his hands and knees. He began methodically tapping the wooden floor, listening carefully as he did so. Within a few seconds, Hermione was doing the same.

Ron and Bill watched in bemusement as their two companions swept up and down the floor, tap-tapping on the wooden surface as they did so, the resulting noise reverberating around the small space. After a few minutes, Harry reached the corner of the room by the small window and tapped the floor once again.

Thunk.

There was no mistaking the difference in sound. He hit the floor again.

Thunk.

'I think there's something under here' he said, excitement in his voice.

Hermione, Ron and Bill joined him as he tapped the floor again.

Thunk.

'It's definitely a hollow sound,' said Bill. 'There must be a cavity underneath.' He joined Harry on the floor and soon the two of them were carefully examining the area for any sign of a hidden entrance. After a few minutes of fruitless endeavour, Hermione let out a loud sigh.

'Stand back a minute,' she ordered.

Harry and Bill looked curious as they both stood up. Ron too, had a puzzled look on his face.

'Further back,' she demanded.

The three men did as bidden and backed into the far corner of the room.

'Hemione,' Harry began, 'what…'

The words were caught in his throat as Hermione simply removed her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the floor.

'Reducto!'

A jet of yellow light erupted from her wand and shot into the floor, turning the wood into dust at it gouged a hole large enough for someone to fit through.

All four of them coughed and spluttered as they approached the hole, waving their arms in the air in order to clear the dust that had been thrown up. Eventually, they stood on the edge and peered down. They smiled.

There was a flight of stairs that led down into the darkness.

'Well done, Hermione,' Harry breathed. 'That was brilliant.'

Hermione flushed with pleasure but didn't reply. Instead, she looked at her companions, a questioning look on her face.

'Shall we?' she asked, already knowing the answer.

Bill smiled and nodded. 'We shall. Give me a few moments to check the place out.'

He began scanning above the hole and continued for a few minutes until he seemed satisfied.

'I'm picking up some residual magic, but nothing too dark. I'm not sure what it is but I think it's OK.' He carefully crouched over the hole and raised his wand.

'Lumos,' he whispered.

With his wand held out in front of him casting a brilliant light, Bill slowly descended the stairs. Harry looked at his companions and for a moment it was as if they were back at Hogwarts on one of their many adventures and there was no sign of any tension between the three friends. Then the moment passed and the reality of the situation struck home and he shrugged, before following Bill down the stairs. Hermione and Ron soon followed suit.

The first thought that entered Harry's head when he reached the bottom of the stairs was jackpot! The cellar was about three times the size of the sitting room above and it was quite clearly Snape's personal potions laboratory. A large, square workbench dominated the room from the centre. Three of the four walls were adorned with shelves containing row, after row of glass jars and bottles containing potions ingredients. Several cupboards were placed against the other wall as well as a personal office bureau made of wood. The room was dark, it was cold and it was dingy.

No doubt it was Snape's!

Harry stood aside, nearer to the cupboards to let Hermione and Ron pass him at the foot of the stairs and he found himself amused at the stunned expressions on their faces as they viewed the hidden room for the first time.

I probably looked like that too.

'Careful, everyone,' said Bill. 'Don't touch anything until I say so. I'm getting a strange reading, but I can't work out what it is. Stay behind me for now,' he added. He was using one of his many sensors as he spoke, scanning from side to side in a gentle sweep of the room. He could see that all three of his companions had obeyed and were now behind him. He glanced to his left at one of the cupboards, a frown on his face. Something wasn't quite right. He carefully approached the cupboard from the side, not getting too close.

'Alohomora,' he whispered.

The door creaked open and suddenly the temperature in the room turned to ice. Bill's breath caught and seemed to solidify in his chest as he watched a tattered black sleeve reach out of the cupboard and open the door wider. Soon, a giant, cloaked figure stepped out into the room.

Dementors? Here? he thought in a panic. He frantically made to raise his wand but before he could react, an indistinct voice called out in the gloom.

'Expecto Patronum!'

Suddenly, the room was filled with a blinding, dazzling, white light and Bill watched amazed as a shining, brilliant silver otter crashed into the Dementor. He'd never seen anything quite like it; it was so solid and so real and he watched in awe as the otter danced around the Dementor, forcing it backwards.

But his feeling of awe was short-lived as the Dementor didn't immediately flee before Hermione's amazing Patronus. Instead, it faltered and stumbled on the hem of its robe. It took a few moments for Bill to work out what was wrong with the situation; to realise what the creature in front of him actually was, but once he did, he knew exactly what to do. He raised his wand.

'Riddikulus!' he cried and the "Dementor" suddenly changed shape into a silvery orb. He smiled before casting the Boggart back into the cupboard and locking the door, trapping it inside.

'That was amazing, Hermione!' he exclaimed as he turned to face her. 'I'd heard about your Patronus but seeing it in the flesh is really something else! That was…'

He stopped talking. Stopped because he could tell from the wide-eyed expression on Hermione's face that something was wrong. He glanced at Ron and saw that his brother looked as if he was going to be sick.

Finally, he looked at Harry who was as white as a sheet and who was staring at his wand as if seeing a stranger. After a long pause, it was Hermione who broke the silence.

'That wasn't my Patronus,' she said thickly. 'It was Harry's.'