September 23rd, 1995 (early afternoon)

Hermione had always been good at focusing. When she was a girl, she'd get so absorbed in the books she read that she wouldn't hear her mum calling for her, or wouldn't hear the bell ring for lunch, or would almost miss her stop on the bus. Maybe that's why she'd always had trouble making friends. The other girls would call to her and she'd ignore them, and they'd think she was doing it on purpose.

She wasn't, though. She just found books so interesting.

It hadn't helped that she'd probably been the only kid who was actually friends with the teacher. And the librarian. And her parents, of course. Hermione had always felt more comfortable around adults than around children, even when she was a child.

Her parents used to tell her she was too mature for her age, and the other children would catch up eventually. Hermione had half believed them, enough to keep her chin up through the years of loneliness. And anyway she had her parents. They'd kept her busy with trips to museums and historical sites, theatre visits, and as many books as she'd wanted. She'd grown up healthy, happy, and loved.

Then she went to Hogwarts. And suddenly there'd been this gulf between them. They'd been hesitant to even allow her to go, so from her very first letter she'd done everything she could to show them what a great time she was having. She didn't tell them that no one liked her, or that some of the kids ignored her because of her family. She didn't tell them about the teachers who couldn't (or wouldn't) teach, about the constant feeling of not being good enough. From there her omissions only got more egregious, aided by the school's reluctance to tell muggle parents anything, apparently. She never told them about the troll, about being petrified. By the end of her second year, her letters had gotten so infrequent that her absence went unremarked upon.

The summers were better again. There were trips and activities, and lazy days spent reading on the beach. She didn't talk to her parents as much as she used to, but the silences were comfortable.

But she always kept one eye on the calendar, looking forward to when she'd be going back to Hogwarts. Back to her real life, as she thought of it.

When she told her parents they needed to go into hiding, they'd been surprised. But they hadn't even asked her if she'd be going with them. Her mother had taken one, long look at her, filled with indecipherable pain, and they'd gone without protest.

Hermione had been relieved.

She was a bad daughter, and she knew it, but what could she do? They lived in different worlds. And now they were in an Order safe house, somewhere completely muggle where they could go undetected, and continue living their lives in peace.

That was where Hermione was headed now, with a laser-focus. She didn't think about what Professor Dumbledore had said, or the look on Professor Snape's face. She didn't think about missing classes or Sirius waiting at Grimmauld Place or having to make arrangements.

She needed to get to the safe house. Then everything would be okay. She'd go to the safe house, and things would be fine.

She'd taken a train out to the city it was in, and then called a cab from there. She had the money, she wasn't worried. She kept thinking about what her parents would say when she surprised them. They'd be so pleased to see her, she decided. They'd invite her in and show her around their new house, which they would've decorated just so. Her mum would make her tea, and ask her about her trip. Her dad would sit at the table with them, quiet but smiling.

She'd apologise for the visit, since it would mean they'd have to move again (at least that part was easier with magic), and they would sigh and fuss but they'd smile warmly at her and give her a big hug and tell her she was worth it.

She didn't think about the owl she'd sent. The one she'd sent without thinking, which knew her parents well enough to find them without an address by now. She didn't think about what Professor Dumbledore had said when they first went into hiding, about how any owl post would draw a great big target on their house, and how she should only communicate using muggle mail. She didn't think about how out of everything she could've forgotten, all the dates from history and magical plant properties from herbology, all of which she could bring to mind perfectly, she'd forgotten the one fact that was critical to keeping her parents safe. She'd gotten so used to not owling that she'd forgotten there was a reason for it this time.

Hermione didn't think about any of that as the cab pulled up to the house. It was smaller than the one they'd used to live in. She supposed they didn't need as much space anymore. Still, she could see her father's influence on the garden, the carefully arranged flower beds and small patches of vegetables.

She marched straight up to the front door, hands shaking, heart racing. She knocked briskly, and prepared herself to see her mother's smiling face. She told herself she was nervous about how her parents would react. She didn't acknowledge the fear, the cold dread that had encompassed her heart. She knocked on the door again after a long moment of no answer.

The door opened.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled down at her.

September 23rd, 1995 (evening)

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Severus shouted at Minerva.

"I mean exactly what I say," Minerva said stiffly. "Black said she never arrived at Grimmauld Place."

"Never arrived? I thought you brought her through the floo!" Severus said. He wasn't panicking. But it was closer than he would ever admit.

"She's perfectly capable of flooing by herself," Minerva answered, insulted by his insinuation that she'd been negligent. "I heard her articulate her destination quite clearly. She must have left immediately after." She sighed, rubbing at her temple. "What a mess. Regardless, I'm sure she's gone to the safe house, poor thing. Black said she asked for the address earlier today. We've had someone keeping an eye on it since the attack. They'll send her right straight back to Grimmauld." She shook her head sadly. "That poor, poor girl."

"Someone's still there?" Severus asked curiously. Albus hadn't given him any details about the attack, only that Granger's parents had been killed and the safe house compromised.

"To keep an eye out, yes. I sincerely doubt she'll be returning, however. I believe her point's been made."

"Whose point?" Severus asked, a sudden chill going down his spine.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, of course," Minerva said, wrinkling her nose. "That awful girl."

Severus stood so quickly he felt his head rush. "We need to go immediately," he said harshly.

"What?" Minerva asked, astonished.

"Bellatrix isn't finished. The murders weren't to make a point. They were bait."

September 23rd, 1995 (evening)

Hermione had been stupid. She was smart enough to know that. She was also smart enough to know that she was going to die here, staring at the lifeless bodies of her parents, and there was nothing she could do about it. Even as the sharp chill of dread trickled down her spine, as her bones ached with the pains of torture, part of her was viciously glad that she was here. Wasn't this no more than she deserved? The logical consequences of the choices she'd made?

Bellatrix had taken her wand. Bellatrix had laughed at her fear, had laughed at her screams. A flick of her wand had all that had been required to wrap Hermione in heavy black chains, and she'd sat Hermione down in her parents' sitting room, so different than the one she'd grown up in but achingly familiar in style.

There was blood everywhere. Her parents were staring at her, mouths slightly parted in surprise. A look that would stay on their faces forever. Never again would Hermione see her mother smile at her, or her father's grimace over having sprouts for dinner. She'd never see her mother wink at her over morning tea, or see her father's eyes crinkle as he laughed at the telly in the evenings.

There was an owl on the floor too. Hermione recognised it. Of course she did, she'd sent it off only a few days ago. The same school owl she always used. A letter to her parents about how her birthday had gone, and how excited she was about being a prefect. The letter was gone. Had her parents read it?

At the end of the letter, had she told her parents she loved them? She couldn't remember now. Had she just ended the letter saying goodbye? Or with lots of love? Hugs and kisses? What had she said to them?

"Poor little girl," Bellatrix called out from the kitchen, where she was raiding the cabinets. "Parents decided to leave you, hmm? Did they say it was safer without you? Or did you decide to leave them?" She cackled at the thought, making a dreadful racket as she pulled pots and pans out, leaving them strewn about the floor.

Hermione didn't respond. She was staring at her mother, who was still wearing her favourite sweater. It was cozy and soft, but still thin enough to wear in the early fall. Perfect for those first chilly nights.

"Maybe you thought they were boring?" Bellatrix said, the poison from her mouth wriggling through Hermione's ears and into her brain, even as she tried not to listen. "They're just muggles, after all. Nowhere near as interesting as magic!"

What had she put in the letter? Had she told them she loved them? Did they die thinking she didn't love them?

"Maybe you don't even mind that they're gone, hmm? Have I done you a favour, little girl?" Bellatrix leaned against the doorway from the kitchen. She held an apple in her hand, that she was slowly peeling with one of the larger kitchen knives.

Hermione remembered that knife. Bellatrix had used it to carve the word "mudblood" into her arm earlier that evening. How long had she been here? How many curses had she been under? She'd lost count so quickly.

"No comments? Does that mean I'm right then?" Bellatrix asked, with a crazed grin.

Hermione didn't say anything. Her throat was rubbed raw from screaming. She wasn't sure she could make a sound even if she wanted to. She didn't even know what sound she would make. She was tired. So, so tired. She wanted Bellatrix to kill her, instead of dragging it out and making her wait.

She wanted to see her parents again, alive and happy and full of life. She'd never been religious, never believed in any sort of afterlife, but… there were ghosts, weren't there? Didn't that have to be proof? That some form of her parents still existed, if only she could find it, if only she could join them.

"Where is he!" Bellatrix half muttered, half shouted to herself. She was looking impatiently through the window. "I thought he would've come already. Unless Draco was wrong." She gave Hermione an appraising look. "Maybe I killed the wrong parents then? Ha!" She barked out a laugh, surprising Hermione in her momentary similarity to Sirius. "How would you feel, girlie, if I told you your parents died for nothing! Typical muggles, eh? Can't even die properly."

Hermione didn't answer. She didn't care. No matter what Bellatrix said, Hermione knew her parents hadn't died for nothing. They'd died for her stupidity.

Bellatrix was pacing back and forth, clearly impatient. Suddenly, her wand started vibrating, and a crazed grin erupted on her face. "There we go," she cooed softly. "Maybe Draco isn't as worthless as I thought. Do you like that, mudblood?" she asked Hermione. "He came for you after all. True love," she said happily, a soft smile on her face that transformed her into someone else. But then the smile disappeared, and there was a wicked smirk in its place. "He'll finally pay," she muttered to herself gleefully. "And no one will be able to blame me. After all, he was trying to rescue a mudblood! It's only fitting that I should try to stop him. Treacherous, treacherous little Slytherin, even for us Slytherins, yes?" she asked Hermione, and Hermione didn't think Bellatrix saw her at all. She had a far-off look in her eyes.

Hermione stared at her parents. More people would die tonight. She desperately, desperately wanted to be the first.

September 23rd, 1995 (evening)

Severus Snape was a fool. He knew this. Albus knew this. And now Minerva knew this as well. Because while she'd gone off to fetch Albus, Severus had slipped out of the castle and gone to the safe house.

He couldn't stop himself, was the problem. He felt like an outsider in his own head, watching someone else control his actions. He screamed at himself to stop, to wait, but then he thought of her face, and his body took off into a run.

Bellatrix would be waiting, he knew. And she wouldn't hold back. She'd set this up to trap him, so of course the smart thing to do would be to wait, and plan carefully his moves, and then go in with a whole group of the Gryffindor cannon-fodder that called themselves Order members.

Yet here he was, silently creeping up a muggle street, with only his wand and his wits. And it seemed his wits were in short supply.

Severus waved his wand carefully as he went, looking for alarms or traps. The street itself was littered with them, but he went carefully through backyards, keeping to the shadows so even the faint shimmer of the disillusionment charm wouldn't be seen.

There was an alarm around the small garden of the safe house. It was well hidden, so that you needed to be almost on top of it before you could detect it. But Severus had been going very slowly, some part of him apparently still sane, and he'd carefully avoided detecting it.

What he hadn't detected was the second alarm charm, carefully layered under the first so that they were in the exact same spot.

Severus immediately moved into the shadow of the house, away from where he'd triggered the alarm. He waited for Bellatrix to emerge, but she didn't. The small but respectable house took on a threatening air as Severus realised that likely Bellatrix had turned the whole house into a death trap for him. And now she knew he was here.

His best bet was the basement. The entrances were carefully hidden, as the basement was intended to function as hideaway for emergency supplies. It was possible Bellatrix didn't know about it, and thus hadn't cursed it. It was his only chance for safe entry into the house.

He found the door relatively easily, since he'd helped hide it in the first place, and slipped carefully into the darkness, making sure the door was sealed shut behind him.

The basement was pitch black, so Severus cast the tiniest light he could on the ceiling. Immediately several tall, dark shapes came into view — the outlines of the boxes that were stored down here.

It was practically a maze navigating through everything, and Severus was almost where he thought the exit was when he heard the sound of something rustling behind him.

Immediately he stilled. He double-checked that his disillusionment charm was still active, then carefully sidled behind the nearest stack of boxes.

He waited silently for something to happen, but he saw nothing. He'd just given up and started towards the door again when he heard the sound of rustling again, coming from the opposite side of the basement.

Severus weighed his options, and found all of them lacking. Already filled with regret at his decision, he made his way as quickly as possible for the door up from the basement. After all, he was fairly sure that if Bellatrix had left a trap down here, it would've triggered immediately. Although he was not as sure as he liked to be.

He made it up the stairs without incident, and cast a listening charm on the door. He couldn't hear anything. Bellatrix had likely noticed her alarm trigger. With luck, she'd be occupied preparing something nasty at the back door and wouldn't notice him enter the kitchen. But when had he ever been lucky?

Normally he would've waited longer at the door listening, but he heard another rustle from down the basement steps, closer this time. With a silent prayer to no one in particular, he opened the door as little as possible and slipped through.

Someone must've been listening, for the kitchen was empty. There were bloody footsteps on the ground, about the size of an adult female, and he could see through to the sitting room which had blood spatters on the walls. A chill went down his spine. He closed the basement door silently with a hasty spell, and noted that the charms on it to keep it hidden were still in place. Perhaps Bellatrix hadn't found the basement then. Begging the question of what had been moving around down there.

Severus crept carefully towards the sitting room, avoiding the alarm spells and the gruesome traps he detected and keeping an eye and ear out for any sign of movement. Thankfully the more powerful the trap, the more easy it was to detect… And Bellatrix had always gone in for the flashy. He stopped short when he finally saw Granger, sitting on the sofa, tied up in chains.

She looked… empty. Her face was devoid of all emotion, and her eyes were completely blank. She stared, fixated, at two corpses on the ground. Granger's parents, they must've been. The woman had the same curly brown hair and tan skin, made a sickly colour with her death.

Severus watched her, unable to help himself. After all, he'd done this to her. It was his fault she looked so small and fragile, with a bruise just starting to spread across her cheek and blood streaking down from her nose.

"The guest of honour!" Bellatrix said from behind him, startling him so badly he almost dropped his wand. An embarrassingly bad start to what was sure to be a brutal fight. "Severus, oh Severus, won't you let me see your pretty face?"

Severus stayed silent, not dropping the disillusionment. As long as he was hidden, she couldn't be sure it was him. Which meant none of his signature spells, either. His attention was on Bellatrix now, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that Granger was looking at them.

Bellatrix cast silently at him and he deflected it without a thought. She cackled with pleasure. "So quick," she said gleefully. "But not quick enough, I think." They traded lethal spells back and forth, neither of them gaining any sort of advantage. This sort of dueling, slow and thoughtful, was more reminiscent of chess than a brawl.

"Severus, dear Severus," Bellatrix crooned, as the pace of her casting sped up. Severus was no slouch when it came to dueling, but needing to stay hidden put him at a disadvantage. Bellatrix was constantly casting finite at him, which took much less effort to cast but required the same amount of shielding and dodging from him. "Have you come to rescue your love?" she asked wickedly.

Severus didn't look over at Granger, even though he desperately wanted to. He needed to stay focused and not let her distract him.

"Perhaps she doesn't know that you love her?" Bellatrix asked. Her wand flicked through the air, sending beams of light shooting at him. "Perhaps you haven't told her yet of my present. Of course, my curse doesn't create love from nowhere," she said slyly, barely breaking a sweat from their duel. "You must've already loved her in order for the curse to work. All it does is bring the emotions to the surface, after all."

Severus decided then and there that she was lying, no matter how much he wanted to believe her. It was just the sort of thing she would do, and even if she weren't lying… Well, what sort of difference would it make? But his moment of distraction cost him, and he found himself slowly getting backed into a corner of the room, near the sofa.

Bellatrix advanced on him, her casting speeding up now that she sensed the end was near.

Just as Severus was starting to think it was time to give up on staying hidden, Bellatrix's curse went wide as her wand started vibrating mid-cast. "You've brought friends!" she said, delighted.

He… hadn't. And there was no way Albus had already sent people over. Severus knew their response time wasn't that good.

There was a sound from the kitchen. The sound of a basement door slamming open.

Bellatrix stepped back towards the kitchen, wand already up and casting when what looked like a lion burst out of the kitchen and landed on Bellatrix, knocking her to the ground. She shrieked in surprise, and Severus immediately turned to Granger, casting quickly to remove the chains. He pulled the girl up by the hand, and immediately she started clinging to him.

Granger looked up at his invisible form. "Professor?" she asked faintly. Severus could feel her heart hammering wildly in her chest, could feel the warm press of her against his side.

"Stay calm," he whispered to her. She kept staring at him, somehow meeting his eyes even through the disillusionment.

"That was quite the surprise!" Bellatrix said, brushing herself off as she stood up, the corpse of the animal cooling on the ground. "Where did you get a baby nundu of all things?"

Severus didn't answer her, instead gave the nundu a critical look. It was larger than a full-grown lion. He'd never seen a nundu in person, but he was suddenly immensely glad it was dead.

"I suppose you didn't know that I happen to have a special way with animals," Bellatrx said, twirling her wand idly. She didn't seem to be rushing to get back into the duel. Perhaps he'd tired her out after all. "I got an outstanding on my Care of Magical Creatures NEWT. You wouldn't have known that, of course."

Actually he had known that. When she'd first joined right out of school she never shut up about her NEWT scores. They'd been quite good, actually.

In one quick motion, Bellatrix summoned Granger away from him. He immediately went to grab her, and Bellatrix took the opportunity to petrify him where he stood, arm still out.

The disillusionment fell, but Bellatrix was rather occupied torturing Granger right in front of him. She cast crucio after crucio as he desperately worked to dispel the petrification. It was strong, despite her distraction, and even though he was holding his wand it still took him far too long to break her hold

Granger was still at Bellatrix's feet. There was a trickle of blood running from her mouth down the side of her face, and Bellatrix seemed to take a great glee in kicking the girl while she was down.

Severus felt a rage build inside him. He screamed incoherently and flung out his wand to cast at her— what exactly, he couldn't say— but he never got the chance.

Just when Severus thought Bellatrix had brought the girl down for good, just when he thought Granger was dead— Granger shot to her feet, punched Bellatrix in her face, and snatched the wand right out of her hand. All it took was a single meaningful look over at him before they were running, racing out of the house and away from Bellatrix, although not fast enough for Severus to avoid a painful curse that grazed his side.

Granger grabbed desperately at Severus' hand, and for a moment his heart fluttered, but then he knew what she meant. They were outside the anti-apparition wards. With a twist and a gut-wrenching crack, they were gone.

Severus was not a foolish man. He knew it was possible to love someone without liking them. How could he not, when his own mother proved it so? She'd loved him, of that he was sure. She'd taken care of him when he needed it, and sacrificed her own well-being to keep his away from the worst of his father's anger.

But he knew she hadn't liked him, and he hadn't blamed her. Without him, she would've been able to leave his father when she was still young and fresh. Her parents would have overlooked her youthful indiscretions and welcomed her back into their home. But they never would've accepted him, their bastard halfblood grandson. And his mother had loved him too much to leave him with his father, even if it would've saved herself.

She'd loved him, but she'd also resented him, and he'd known that.

He'd thought it would be the same way with Granger. Deep, inexplainable love… but love without context, without respect or affection. The way one loved when one didn't have any other choice. But now, as he stood outside the gates of Hogwarts, side aching with burning pain, still holding onto her hand as they greedily sucked in great breaths of cool, safe air… he knew he'd been wrong.

"That was a nice punch," he said quietly, as if ashamed to even admit it. And Hermione looked steadily back at him, a trace of something other than terror and exhaustion in her eyes, and he knew he had a much bigger problem than just love.

September 23rd, 1995 (late evening)

"Tell me again about the nundu," Albus said, leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him.

"There's nothing else to tell," Severus said wearily, leaning against the wall and trying to ignore the pain in his side. "There was a nundu in the basement." Granger was sitting in an armchair by the fire, drinking a cup of tea. She wasn't paying any attention to their conversation, merely staring into the flames.

"And it was not Bellatrix who put it there?" Albus asked curiously.

"I doubt it. Bellatrix was the only person it attacked, and then she killed it. Who had access to the basement?"

"Mundungus recently moved some items in there," Albus said with a grimace.

Severus rolled his eyes. "And I suppose he had access to the basement without any sort of supervision, correct?"

Albus sighed. "Yes, that's correct."

"Where the devil did Dung get a nundu?" Severus said in amazement, mostly to himself.

Albus shook his head. "I do not know, but I intend to find out. In the meantime…" he glanced over at Granger by the fire. "I think it would be best if both of you stayed with Sirius for a while."

Severus winced. "Surely it would be suspicious for me to disappear—"

"More suspicious than you teaching with a curse wound?" Albus asked, pointedly looking at Severus' side.

"I can ignore it," Severus said through gritted teeth, but he didn't even believe his own words. He could tell there was dark magic in the wound, which would make it resistant to healing via normal means. He would be in some pain for a while, and the treatment would be difficult and time consuming.

"I think it best if you disappear, especially given that Bellatrix has an ear inside the castle. Your injury will only make you more vulnerable to further attacks."

"And if I get summoned?" Severus protested. "What will I do then? My injury will be most suspicious."

Albus shook his head with a small smile. "You will not get summoned."

Severus paused, nonplussed. "How are you so confident?" he asked suspiciously.

"Tom is currently out of the country," Albus said, and did Severus detect a hint of smugness in his tone? "And will not be returning for at least a few weeks."

Severus waited for him to elaborate, but Albus remained infuriatingly silent. Severus decided it wasn't worth giving Albus the satisfaction of asking. It was unlikely that Albus would tell him the truth regardless.

Albus looked disappointed by his lack of questioning, but continued on. "I believe it would also be beneficial for you to take some time to focus on that… other project we discussed," he said discreetly, with a glance over at where Granger was still staring into the fire.

Severus nodded. Trust Albus to have ulterior motives behind his ulterior motives. "Very well," he said obligingly. Even with his curse wound it would likely be more enjoyable than teaching. As long as he could avoid Black, this might even be tolerable. He carefully avoided looking over at Granger. Apparently the curse outweighed even his hatred of Black, if he was actually looking forward to their living arrangements. What powerful magic indeed.

As if she'd read his thoughts, Granger spoke: "What was Lestrange talking about?" Her voice was hoarse, and she didn't look over at them as she spoke. "The… curse."

Albus looked over at Severus. Severus stared back, trying to keep his expression even. Finally, Severus relented.

"Bellatrix cursed me with a rather nasty Black family specialty," he said.

Granger nodded. She looked up at him for a moment, before her gaze quickly skittered away again. Her eyes were unreadable. Without magic, at least. "I see," she said, and Severus feared she would press further, but she stayed blessedly, worryingly, silent.

"Miss Granger…" Albus started, and then hesitated. "I do not blame you for your actions," he finally settled on.

Granger shook her head slightly. "Thank you, sir," she said, her voice stiff. Severus longed to know what was going through her head. Did she blame him for Bellatrix's actions? He blamed himself, he thought. Was she angry at him?

Well, he realised with a sinking horror. It looked like he would have plenty of opportunity to find out.

Severus' rooms were nicer than he'd expected. Black had grumbled and shouted about letting him stay there, but Albus had told him what happened with quiet whispers, and Black had looked over at Severus with a curiosity that lacked his usual anger. Perhaps Black's hatred of him was surpassed by his hatred of his cousin. Family ties did run deep, after all.

Besides, Albus had made it clear that there wasn't much of a choice, and Black had been pleased enough about having Granger in the house that he seemed willing to overlook Severus' presence as well. Especially given that Severus had been given a room on the first floor, far away from the main portion of the house. Black and Granger had rooms on the top floor, and with luck he'd be able to avoid them. He tried not to examine his feelings towards that prospect too closely.

There was a knock on his door. Three careful taps.

Severus opened the door, somehow not surprised to see Miss Granger standing there, a determined look on her face. He felt his heart sink.

"I need your help," she said, staring him straight in the eye. The shadows under her eyes were a deep purple, and she still had blood smeared down the side of her face.

"With what?" he asked, because what else could he do? Even just the sight of her made him feel indescribably happy and unbearably guilty all at once.

"I'm going to make her pay for what she did," Granger said, her jaw tight. There was a strange look in her eye, as if she were focusing somewhere past him. "Help me stop her. For what she did to me and for… for what she did to you."

Severus leaned against the doorframe, shoulders slumped forward. Bellatrix Lestrange was a vicious enemy to have, which is why he'd always been so careful to never provoke her direct anger. "Revenge will never satisfy you," he warned. A lesson he'd learned all too well. "Revenge won't bring them back."

"I know," Miss Granger said, but did she truly? "But I need to do this. There isn't… there isn't anything else I can do."

And now Miss Granger was going to lead them both to their deaths, and he would follow her without hesitation. "Of course," he murmured, and she let herself into his room. Minerva would throw a fit if she knew. Minerva would throw a fit if she knew a lot of things. He closed the door behind her.

"Great," Granger said, and Severus gaped at the bizarre sight of a Gryffindor muggleborn holding up an antique locket with the Slytherin crest. "We start with this."