A/N: So after my last updating spree, I was sadly under the impression that people are not reading anymore because of my late updates. But then I received a review saying that people would still like to read, and I decided to continue!

Quick recap: There's a plan to get Severus back in Voldemort's good books. Here is the execution of that plan. You can read chapter 38, The Plan – 1, where the said plan was discussed.

Enjoy!

Chapter 40: The Plan - 2

Wednesday came soon, so soon that in the morning, Hermione found her cereal turn to cardboard in her mouth. Her anticipation was quite evident on her face when she surreptitiously glanced at the Head Table where Severus was sitting.

In the last week, she had come to address him by his given name in her head—only in her head. Thinking of him as Severus felt right. But Merlin forbid if she ever said it out loud, especially to the man himself. Well, he had started calling her Granger from the more formal 'Miss Granger', but she could not roam around calling a Professor by his given name, that, too, without his permission.

When he caught her eye, she asked through their connection, 'Are we ready for today?'

'We are. Focus on your meal—that lays apparently untouched, Granger, and quit staring at me before your neighbours catch you.'

She looked away and clicked her tongue. Voldemort was an insane man with unspeakable cruelty and great power. Hermione could only wish that Severus returned unharmed tonight.

"What's up?" Ginny asked.

"You know about the plan, don't you?" Hermione said. "It's today."

"I know," Ginny whispered. "Harry's tense, as well."

Hermione looked at Harry. Though talking to Dean, he was wringing his serviette in his hand, as if trying to strangle the life out of it.

"Hey, where's Ron?" Neville asked from across the table.

Seamus sniggered. "Ask Lavender. Haven't seen either of them since last night."

"Oh, Merlin's-" Ginny muttered. "My brother is a moron, Hermione-"

"Please, Ginny, he's not the least of my concerns right now," Hermione said a little icily.

"Potter!" Madam Hooch came down from the Head Table. Harry turned to the Quidditch instructor. "Your match with Ravenclaw is going to be held this Saturday. Pull up your socks, boy."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry acknowledged and watched Madam Hooch walk to the Ravenclaw captain.

"What about practices, Harry?" One of his teammates inquired.

Harry, distracted as he was, shrugged.

Hermione coughed. She mouthed 'Be normal' to him. They could not afford to attract any attention today to arise suspicion. If their plan were right, the next morning Prophet would be swarmed with headlines.

"We'll practise after classes today," Harry declared. "I want everyone on the pitch right after classes. No excuses."

"Aw, won't you spend time with me after class, then, Won-Won?" A high-pitched voice had their attention to a drowsy Ron and a very excited Lavender, who had just entered the Great Hall.

"Won- What?" Ginny frowned.

"He likes it when I call him that," Lavender smirked. "I gave him the name only last night."

Ron met Hermione's eyes in a show of defiance. They had not talked a word since the Order meeting. But true to her word, Ron could not concern her today with his foolish tricks.

Parvati gasped at the pronouncement and jumped from her seat. "Oh, Merlin, tell me everything about it!"

"Preferably not here," Ginny added.

Parvati took Lavender by hand and dragged her out of the Great Hall, giggling. Ron, on his part, yawned and dropped himself beside Dean.

He elbowed Ron with a sly smirk, "Seemed to have enjoyed, eh?"

Ron replied with a lazy smirk of his own.

"You are ridiculous, Ron," Ginny hissed.

"Stay out of it, Ginny," he hissed back.

Harry shook his head in annoyance. "Ron, after lunch practice. Don't forget."

"When's the match?" He asked.

"This Saturday," Harry replied.

Ginny leaned towards Hermione. "Hey, don't worry about it, okay? He's just acting out."

"Honestly, Ginny, it doesn't bother me," Hermione stated.

"He and Lavender probably shagged and it doesn't bother you? Don't lie, Hermione, not to me," she whispered.

"It's his life, let him do as he pleases," Hermione said dismissively and half-distracted.

"Potter, Granger," Professor McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table, "Come with me, please."

Harry and Hermione followed their Head of House out of the Great Hall without any question, while the others stared in question.

When they reached beyond earshot, Professor McGonagall turned to them. "The Headmaster has requested your presence in his office right after dinner. Do not tell anyone where you are." She turned to Harry, "Potter, the Headmaster wants to see if you get any of those visions when Professor Snape goes to Riddle today or when their attack fails. And Granger, I believe you will help with the signals."

"Yes, Ma'am," she nodded, so did Harry.

"Now, behave normal and while you come to the Headmaster's office, do not be seen. I hope you understand my implication, Potter."

"My cloak, yeah. I mean, yes, Ma'am," he said.

"Good." The Professor looked around. "Go back and finish your meal. Tell the others I was referring to an essay that Potter copied from Granger for which I have taken ten points from Gryffindor."

They nodded in agreement and re-entered the Great Hall. Harry whispered, "What signal?"

"I'll explain later."

UUUUUUU

I honestly shouldn't be writing right now because I'm expected to take notes in Charms. Yet, for the first time, I find myself so distracted during a class.

I have never doubted Severus' capabilities, but I'm concerned for his well being, for what will happens to him today if Voldemort got the wind of our plan. Once he had told me that a spy is forever at risk, that whenever he answers a summon, he doubts to be even back alive. His words are really troubling me today. I want him to return safely to Hogwarts, unharmed. I know it isn't his first summon by far, but it is one of immense importance. I fear that in our efforts to gain him back his position, we don't put him in the harm's way.

I have never truly prayed since coming to Hogwarts, but today I want to rely on some supernatural existence to keep Severus safe.

And with that, Hermione sent a silent prayer into the sky.

UUUUUUU

Severus sipped his tea and grimaced at the sheer bitterness that he usually enjoyed, though not today.

"Severus," Lupin stepped behind his chair, "Are you ready for today?"

"I have been visiting with the Dark Lord since the age of Sixteen, for your information, Lupin. I don't need to prepare for that," he said in annoyance.

That seemed to have shushed Lupin. Albus, whose eyes usually twinkled with mirth witnessing an exchange of that nature, looked morose today.

Minerva entered his office. Her efforts to conceal her trepidation failed miserably before his supreme Legilimency. Severus, himself, was not apprehensive, but the thick nervousness that the other occupants of the room exuded exasperated him.

There was a next to negligible chance of the Dark Lord finding out that it was a woven web prepared for him. But even if he did, Severus would have a chance to escape, in the midst of the confusion that the confrontation would cause. In all honesty, he couldn't have cared any less about his life, had it not been for Granger... Her life was bound to his. Thus, if he was killed, she would be, too.

The knowledge that Granger's life was intricately tied to his had often disconcerted him. But for some inexplicable reason, lately, he had found himself worried about that factor more than usual. Thus he would have to be exceptionally sharp to escape if the Dark Lord did recognise that the confrontation was contrived.

A rapping on the door pronounced the arrival of Granger and Potter.

"Good evening, Professors," Granger greeted. "When are we starting?"

"We are waiting for the Order to send a signal, Hermione," Lupin replied. "They will tell us when everything is ready at the safe-house."

"You won't be there when it happens?" Potter asked.

"I will be on stand-by if additional assistance is required," he answered. "I will wait at the Headquarters for my orders."

Severus could feel the weight of Granger's gaze upon him. Through the corner of his eye, he saw her assaulting her lip with her teeth. Of course, Granger's most favoured coping mechanism— self-cannibalism. He could see the tension that was palpable around her. Her Shields were in place, too, now that he observed.

'I am not dead yet, Granger,' he sent her way.

Though it was his attempt at humour, she seemed to have found it quite unwelcoming. 'I am not amused, Sir.' She indeed did not sound so either.

In his early years, Severus' response to being cared for was awe and surprise. Because in her own misery, his Mother could not bring herself to care for a child. Had his Father, though never did, shown any hint of solicitude towards him, Severus would have undoubtedly thought him to be an imposter. When Lily showed concern for him, he had honestly devoured the long-craved treatment like a greedy lap dog.

But as years passed and his company worsened, Severus had come to take Lily's attempts to care for him on his ego. He had constructed an abject mental belief that being a man, no woman should make him look weak. The last straw had been the incident after his Defence OWL. That day, after berating Lily, Severus had realised how inherently wrong he was in his perceptions. Thus, after Lily, he had become simply bitter when shown care. It made him feel strange, like he did not deserve it.

Now when Granger, with her mundane acts, gave an impression to care for him, he felt torn and baffled. It made him feel vulnerable and Severus loathed to feel so. He told himself it irritated him, but even he didn't know how it made him feel.

A part of him debated that his reluctance was unreasonable, the other told him that it was the bond due to which she cared, because of that term which said that she was bound to care. Severus despised for anyone to feel compelled on his account, in any way.

The fireplace flickered and Moody's voice echoed in the office. "We're all set to leave for the safe-house."

Albus moved near the hearth and bent down. "Who all are accompanying you, Alastor. Please check with me, again."

"Tonks, Kingsley, Diggle and Hestia," he replied. "And of course, I will be there."

"Very well," Albus responded. "On stand-by, you have Remus, Fred and George Weasley, Bill Weasley and Arthur. They will be under the Polyjuice."

"Yes, yes, I know the plan," in his gruff voice, Moody said. "We will drop the wards as soon as we reach the safe-house. Tell Snape to make a move, and Morgana help us if he shows his true colours now."

"Do keep praying, Moody, Merlin knows you need it if I flip," Severus added smoothly.

"Severus, please," Minerva murmured.

Before the half-insane wizard could retort, Albus spoke, "Remus is coming through to the Headquarters. You all move to the safe-house. May luck be with you." The firecall got disconnected.

"Apparate to the Headquarters, Remus," Minerva said. "And send a Patronus if anything happens."

"I will." With a litany of best wishes, the warewolf departed.

"Severus," Albus said, "You, too, should leave now, I believe."

Severus got to his feet and grabbed his travelling cloak from the crest rail. "I will send the signal as soon as I get information."

A signal on the band made Severus glance at Granger. 'Please be safe,' she sent.

Severus exhaled a breath slowly and looked away. He had no reply to give. Perhaps, he should maintain his distance from her before she felt even more obliged to care for him. Without another glance back, he stalked to the door and left in one swift motion.

UUUUUUU

Harry and Hermione sat opposite to the Headmaster. Professor McGonagall had her eyes either on the Floo or the window, waiting for a call or a Patronus to notify them. Well, so was Hermione. Half of her attention was on her band, too.

"How do you know when he sends a signal?" Harry asked.

"I can feel a vibration," she replied. Studying his frown, she added, "It is not painful."

"Would you care for a cup of tea?" The Headmaster asked. "Or perhaps a sweet? In my years, I have developed a taste for sweet when in agitation."

"No, thank you, Sir. I don't think I will be able to stomach anything," she replied, wondering how often did the Great Sorcerer find himself agitated.

"I'll pour myself a cup, thank you," Harry said.

The aroma of tea reminded Hermione of the essence of smoke, cloves and spices that Severus smelt of. It only added on to her apprehension.

"He's excited," Harry declared.

Hermione found him rubbing at his scar while balancing the cup in his lap. "Are you in pain, Harry?"

"No, my scar is just tingling," he answered.

"Severus must have convinced him then," the Headmaster assessed.

"He should soon send the Death Eaters on the way," Professor McGonagall added.

Hermione looked at the window. In the cold, due had covered the glass. The dark sky outside was visible through a sheet of blur. She imagined the glass to be chilling and felt like leaning her head against it.

"Do you see anything, Potter?" Professor McGonagall inquired.

"No, Professor," he replied.

Hermione gasped and brought her hand up. "One." The Headmaster and her Head of House sat up in attention. "Two. Three. Four. Five..." The numbers went on. With each digit she called, the features on their faces grew serious. "Ten. Eleven." Hermione waited for more signals to come, but none did. "He's sending eleven Death Eaters."

"Eleven?" Professor McGonagall gasped. "But we have only five!"

The Headmaster got to his feet and retrieved his wand. A Patronus of a phoenix, one that glowed so bright that Hermione had to squint, appeared. "Eleven," he ordered. "Take the message to Alastor."

The phoenix flapped its feathers and vanished into a mist through the window, leaving behind a trail of what looked like glitter that dissolved in the air.

Next, he walked to the fireplace and knelt down. Hermione watched him urgently putting some Floo powder in and dipping his head in right after.

"Do you think this was a good idea?" Harry whispered. "We estimated four or five to come."

"This has to work, no matter what," Hermione whispered back.

When the Headmaster emerged from the fire, he ran a hand through his beard. "I have sent the others to the safe-house, too."

UUUUUUU

"He's angry!" Harry hissed.

For the next forty minutes, they sat in strained silence. Hermione had mostly kept to her thoughts, occasionally glancing at the fireplace. The agonising silence had only been broken by Harry's shriek in pain.

"Harry!" She rushed to his side. He had a hand clamped to his scar, while the other was closed in a tight fist.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore summoned a chair in front of Harry and sat in it. "Can you look at me?"

"Miss Granger, water, please," Professor McGonagall instructed.

Hermione quickly poured into a goblet from her wand.

"He's furious," Harry whispered.

Hermione pushed the goblet in his hand. When Harry looked up, his scar was blazing red, his face was stained with tears. Hermione recalled what Ginny had said about him still having visions.

"I take it, we won?" Professor McGonagall asked cautiously.

Harry sipped from the goblet slowly. "I guess."

Hermione took the goblet from Harry's hand. "Shouldn't we contact the Order?"

"Not yet, let them send a message," the Headmaster decided.

"Argh!" Harry shrieked. He doubled up in pain, clutching his forehead. Professor Dumbledore caught him by his arms before he could fall to the floor.

"Harry..." Hermione felt her eyes moistening. The last time she had witnessed Harry in such pain was in the Department of Mysteries when Voldemort had possessed him. "Can't we give him something for pain?"

"I am afraid not," the Headmaster said.

Harry screamed again. Hermione, unable to watch it, placed her hand on Harry's head and let her Healing magic seep from her hand and flow into his body. It was an advanced healing method that she was still practising under Madam Pomfrey.

She looked up at her Head of House who was standing with a hand on her gaping mouth. They shared a silent word of sympathy.

"He's...he's torturing them," Harry managed.

"Torturing whom, my boy?" The Headmaster asked calmly.

"Dolohov... I think it's Dolohov," he breathed. "Voldemort's disappointed in him..."

Harry screamed again. Suddenly, Hermione was aware of Severus' plight, just like she always got aware of his slightest of headaches. "He's under Cruciatus."

"He?" Professor McGonagall asked, her face crumpled.

"Snape," Harry replied for her.

"Oh, Merlin," her Head of House murmured. "Albus, do you assume Severus is compromised?"

"I cannot say for certain," he replied pensively.

Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks with the knowledge that she was made cognizant to. "What do we do now?"

"We wait."

A patronus, shaped as a lynx, appeared before them. In Kingsley's voice, it spoke, "We got nine down! Let two escape—Dolohov and an Asian lad."

"Excellent," the Headmaster clapped his hands together. "That is great news."

"But S- Professor Snape isn't back yet!" Hermione cried. "What if he-"

"Severus' cover will remain intact, I am certain," he said with confidence.

"But, Albus," Professor McGonagall objected, "This operation was for Severus to reacquire his rank. He's getting tortured now."

"Minerva, Riddle has a twisted mind-"

Harry hissed again. "He killed."

"WHO?" Hermione demanded.

"I...I don't recognise him," Harry said. "But he's...was young...black hair."

"It must have been the Asian Kingsley was referring to," Professor Dumbledore suggested.

Hermione moved her Chair closer to the window. Below, she could see the gates. The night sky was calm, contrasting sharply with her inner turmoil. Her eyes kept searching for a speck, any sign that would mean Severus was back. After that one bout of Cruciatus, she had not attained knowledge of anymore such bouts, but he had a headache. Harry, too, was quiet, getting no more visions.

She waited somewhat numbly. The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall were busy making Floo calls to the Headquarters, behind her. It irked her how nonchalant the Headmaster was about Severus being tortured. Either it was a very frequent occurrence in his experience or he simply didn't care.

Hermione debated with herself over sending him a signal, but then stopped thinking it might distract him before Voldemort. She waited, covering her anxiety behind her Shields.

"Hey," Harry stepped behind her. "You okay?"

She turned her Chair towards him and nodded. "Just tired..."

"Worried about Snape?" If it was meant to be an accusation, it didn't sound like it.

She shrugged. "Are you alright? Your scar?"

"Yeah, it's fine now," he shrugged, too.

"Shouldn't you learn to Occlude?" She suggested. "I'm sure the Headmaster can help you."

"No, he thinks it'll give me a lead in the war if I know what Voldemort's doing," he said. "Especially now he can't enter into my mind, so it's okay."

"It's barbaric," she said bluntly. "It is painful, Harry-"

"It's fine, Hermione, really," he announced, leaving little space to argue. "Is that Snape?"

She turned back to the window. A cloaked figure stood by the gate, wand in hand. She looked closely and watched the figure shrugging out of a set of robes. Severus' Death Eater robes, she recognised. "Yes, he's back." The words came out with a sigh of relief. He seemed uninjured, at least.

"Snape's back," Harry announced. Hermione heard distantly Professor McGonagall's light reprimand to address him with his title. She watched Severus pacing towards the castle. His black cloak bellowed after him, merging with his shadow.

A few months back, she would have probably not bothered about this man. Had that attack not taken place, had they not been forced into this arrangement, Hermione would have taken Severus' precarious position with Voldemort with no more than a general, academic level of interest—like an Order member should be interested about the spy who was working for them.

Though she had never doubted Severus' loyalty before the attack, like Ron and Harry, she had no other reason to trust him than knowing that Albus Dumbledore trusted him. But now, she couldn't start to count the reasons why she trusted him. And it had escalated quite quickly, hadn't it? But then again, how long had it taken her to trust Ron and Harry? Just an incident with a Troll. With this man, she had probably lived through the worst days of her life—the attack, the Dark Wedding, the fights, the depression and overwhelming guilt, the suicide attempt—and even the best moments, she couldn't deny—the meaningful conversations, the diary, the Hogsmeade visit, the banter, the newfound friendship, if she could call it that. Well, for her, it was a friendship that they had. She knew he would probably have a fit if she ever slipped she took him as a friend... But Hermione did not have a better name for that.

In the last few months, she had changed as a person, she had matured more than she had in the last few years. She understood the implication of the war more lucidly. She was an Occlumens and probably a Legilimens. She was getting to practice Potion-making under Europe's most qualified Potions Master, along with accomplishing a Healer's Apprenticeship. She was an Order member and knew what was beneficial for the war to come. After losing her parents, she had her priorities straight, she understood what her friends meant to her—Harry, Ron, Ginny and Severus. And she knew that even if she had to lay down her life, she would lay it down fighting Voldemort and avenging her parents' murder. She would like to fight alongside her people, even if that was the last deed she ever did.

The door to the Headmaster's office swung open without the courtesy of a knock. Severus stood tall and confident. He looked triumphant.

"Severus," the Headmaster came around his desk. "What did Tom say?"

"It seems, Headmaster," he paused in what Hermione now recognised to be his attempt at annoying the listener, "that our plan, indeed, held merit."

"But, er..." Harry said, "I...saw him torturing you once..."

"Exactly," Severus drawled darkly. "Once."

Hermione felt deeply unsettled by his cavalier attitude towards being subjected to the Cruciatus.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Professor McGonagall muttered. "Our plan worked."

"What was Tom's reaction when the attack failed?" Professor Dumbledore inquired.

"He was incensed, naturally." He gave no sign of battling a worsening headache. "But eventually, I am held in his trustworthy ranks. Again."

"We should thank Miss Granger here for her insight," her Head of House gave a tight-lipped smile to Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip out of habit, "It was my duty."

"We are all worthy of celebrations, it appears," the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes was back. "After all, it was yet another battle he have won in the way of claiming the ultimate victory. What better than an elf-made Absurdity Sundae?"

Severus' lips curled in a sneer. "Enjoy your impending diabetes, Headmaster. But do spare me."

"Come now, Severus, life is too short to waste worrying, especially for an old man like me," Professor Dumbledore chuckled, scratching the back of his gloved hand with the other. For the first time since Hermione had spotted his hand did she actually wonder what was wrong with it.

Severus did not look amused. Rather than coming up with a reply, he went to the Headmaster's Pensieve and left a thread of memory into it. Then he swirled the shining threads into the basin before retrieving them again and putting them back in his head.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered.

"He's making a copy of his memory," Hermione explained, though she had also watched the practice for the first time.

"I would take my leave."

Hermione tried to catch his eyes, to ask him if he was genuinely alright or was he only feigning. But he never looked into her direction. Hermione suspected it to be deliberate.

"Of course, Severus, you must rest," Professor McGonagall said. "Shall I tell Poppy-"

"No, thank you, Madam."

With a curt nod, he swung on his heals and left.

UUUUUUU

Walking back to his quarters, Severus cursed himself for not taking the Floo. His head was in the process of bursting open if he didn't take a potion immediately. It seemed that his body had pretty much forgotten to take the bouts of Cruciatus now that the Dark Lord hardly called him. But that was going to change and it would be for the good. Or the greater good if he cared to quote Albus.

The meeting with the Dark Lord had gone as per expectation. He had provided a copy of his memory to the Headmaster, not wanting to reveal the details before Potter. Dolohov would probably not be leaving his bed for a week, or so Severus hoped. Yotsu, the young Asian boy had been murdered. He was one of the latest appointed Death Eaters, the Dark Lord had decided to increase his allies. Severus had gotten away with mercy—or whatever the Dark Lord was capable of—one bout of Cruciatus meant next to nothing.

But eventually, Severus had been reinstated in his ranks. He would be called more often now. Perhaps he could help prevent many more attacks that were to happen.

Severus reached his quarters. Granger certainly had been aware of the curse he was put under and the consequential headache. Thus, Severus had kept from giving her his attention. The last thing he wanted was for her to be struck in the throes of his struggle and be compelled to care. The creator of the bond had a twisted mind, but great sense of human psychology. If one knew of other's pains, one would be forced to be concerned. And as much as he knew Granger, she would find ways to make sure he was alright, something that highly discombobulated Severus.

Granger was not meant to waste her life stuck fulfilling the menial terms of the bond. He would be damned if he made her believe otherwise.