I hope everyone had a wonderful week. Mine got better- thank you very much to those who had kind words.
In excellent news, we now have a Hermione who is significantly grown and matured to the point where she and Severus can begin to have feelings for one another. But the romance will be long. Very long. And I will no longer be jumping around as much- I'm serious, we get ten more chapters and Hermione is still in fifth year. Be prepared for longer chapters and more direct time.
This is one of my favorite chapters. :) Enjoy.
And now we start Part Two!
Part Two
Chapter 9
"How are you coping?" Snape asked quietly, appearing behind her. Hermione, who was stirring a cup of what looked like hot chocolate, did not flinch. She had enough control over her reflexes for that- but not to stop her hands from shaking. The kitchen of Safe House Three was empty in the middle of the night.
Severus was worried about her. In turn, this worried him. He was Severus Snape- he did not worry about other people. He worried about how their stupidity was going to affect the rest of the god-damn Wizarding world and therefore his life. But the woman in front of him, divested of her Glamour, had occupied his thoughts lately.
The sky outside the kitchen windows was dark, and in the soft candlelight, Hermione Granger looked tired. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and the absence of the mass of curls made her look both older and more vulnerable. As she turned to face him, he noticed that her collarbones stuck out sharply when she crossed her arms- weight loss? There were shadows under her eyes, and the light dusting of freckles along her nose stood out against the paleness of her skin.
Hermione held the warm mug tightly, raising it to her lips and taking a small sip. "I'm not sleeping well," she said quietly, refusing to meet his eyes. "My dreams-" She stopped herself, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. "I'm alright, though. I'm worried about Harry."
It pained him to see her this way. "Hermione," he said commandingly, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she still kept her head to the side, he reached out, lightly brushing the side of her jaw. Gently, he turned her head until she was looking into his eyes. "They do go away." Or they're replaced with worse nightmares, but you don't need to know that right now.
In a flash, her eyes burned with anger. "It's been a month. Every time I close my eyes I see them. And I can't even fight to work it out of this because Madam Pomfrey still won't clear me!" Her back was still healing- the spell Voldemort had used was persistent and had some nasty surprises.
"Hermione," he said again, folding his arms across his chest now that he was confident that she would behave. "Come with me." And he swept down the hall, allowing his robes to flair out behind him. He didn't look back to see if she followed him- he knew she would.
With a sigh, Hermione took a long sip from her mug and set it down in the sink, a small part of her wincing with guilt at leaving it for the house elves. As always, she brushed it away and hurried after her Potions Professor, wondering in the back of his mind how he made his robes flair like that. It must be a Slytherin thing, she decided. Draco's a prick and Pansy's a pug, but they always look… perfect. Unfair. She glanced down at her pajamas- a ratty short sleeved T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Really, really unfair. I need to talk to Andromeda about the art of looking sophisticated.
They stopped at the door the training room, where Severus paused. "Do you have your knives?" he asked suddenly.
"Yes," Hermione said, following him into the gym and slipping off her shoes. "I don't go anywhere without them." She lifted the hem of her loose shirt, showing him the dark leather of the knife sheath.
"Good," Severus said, taking out his wand. "That is an excellent habit to have. Now, do you mind if I do a brief diagnostic spell on your back?" She turned around, and he swished his wand slowly. "If you wish, we can spar," Snape said haltingly. "If you feel any pain, we can stop."
Hermione turned around, a feral grin on her face. "Let's see who stops first, old man," she taunted lightheartedly, the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. "I have been waiting for this for weeks!"
Severus snorted elegantly, rolling his eyes. "I have twenty years of experience on you. Mere enthusiasm cannot hold against twenty years of practice for long." He began to unbutton his robes.
Hermione stuck out her tongue at him, unstrapping her knives. "I've been training since I've was… thirteen… and now I'm eighteen… so that makes only fifteen years of experience on me. And since your birthday is in January, that's really only like fourteen and a half, so-"
"For Heaven's sake, be quiet," Severus said with a sigh. "Or people will stop asking you questions and stare because they've never seen a talking encyclopedia before." He tossed his robes to the ground, taking his own knives in his hands. How does she know when my birthday is?
Hermione sighed in her head. Just a white button down shirt and black trousers and he looks good, she mentally grumbled. The Potions Master was coming alive with the light of the fight as well, a predatory gleam in his eye belaying his calm, almost bored, expression. He cast a light shielding charm at his throat and face, as did Hermione.
They circled each other for a moment, before Hermione lunged for his throat. He twisted out of the way, slashing his own knife down at her back. She dropped to the floor and rolled, swinging one leg out to trip him. The expression of surprise on his face was priceless as he fell to the ground. Immediately, she straddled his back, pressing her knife blade to the back of his neck.
"I win," she said smugly. "Wanna play again?" Twenty years' experience, my arse, was written all over her face. He couldn't see it, however, from his position on the floor.
She hopped up, grinning inordinately wide. Severus was scowling furiously, brushing his clothes off with as much dignity as he could muster. "Impertinent chit," he growled.
Their second duel lasted far longer than the first, Severus attempting to use his superior strength and Hermione her nimbleness and agility. Severus won that one, getting behind her, and putting both knives to her throat. The third duel was again his, but for the fourth Hermione managed to kick him in the kidneys and then 'stab' him in the heart.
He delighted in the purity of the action, the glorious dance of life and death. She was so quick, so limber. His breath caught at her dark innocence, the untamed wildness of the girl. In another life, he mused, she must have been a fey queen, a warrior princess, a lady knight. She laughed as she bent backwards and sprang up again, not a tinkling of bells but a release of joy at being alive and fast enough to live another day. His musings ended when she caught her knife on his arm, drawing a thin line of red blood.
In turn, she reveled in the loosening of the 'Professor Snape' persona, the freeing of the man within. His teeth were bared in a savage smile, one of the strangest expressions she had ever seen, but one that seemed right on his face. He was utterly silent as he fought, eyes laughing as he ducked a high kick or carelessly batted aside a swipe of her knife.
At last the two collapsed into hastily conjured chairs, breathing hard. Hermione's back was on fire, but for the first time in weeks she felt normal again. She let her head loll against the back of the chair, and sighed. "Thank you," she said, a small smile gracing her face. "I feel better now." Happy, and so tired. The pleasant ache from exercise was settling in her muscles, feeding her weariness.
"That was the purpose of this," Severus said smoothly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but voice still sounding like honey. "Do you honestly think I'd let a Gryffindor, and a tiny one at that beat me up in the wee hours of the morning for any other reason?" Wry humor echoed in his voice, a rare occasion. Most of his humor was either sarcastic or incredulous. Even so, it always made her smile.
"You like getting beat up by tiny Gryffindors," Hermione retorted, brushing back a few curls from her slowly cooling face. "But imagine if Harry or Ron saw that!" She started laughing, wheezing out amused giggles.
Severus sneered at her, something that Hermione was beginning to recognize as his version of sticking out his tongue, if Severus Snape could think of doing something like sticking out his tongue. "If Potter or Weasley saw me fighting, I would be saving their lives." A hint of arrogance fitted him perfectly.
"True," Hermione conceded. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." They both knew it would. The two were quiet for a few moments longer, resting their tired limbs. Severus had enjoyed the fight- it was not often he got to spar with someone nearing his level of competency.
The silence stretched on, until Severus sat up straight and stretched, saying, "Hermione Granger, silent? You must be dead, dying, or-" he opened his eyes, expecting a comment from the Gryffindor. "Sleeping," he finished with a sigh. "And now I suppose I need to get you to your room because to wake you up after working so hard to get you to sleep would be cruel."
Severus unclasped Hermione's sheaths, tucking her knives away and picking up the slight girl. Her weight was foreign in his arms- Severus wasn't in the habit of carrying young women to their beds. Her warmth, the faint smell of flowery soap and clean sweat, the little sighs that puffed from her mouth, all of these were strange to the stern man.
He reached her room and opened the door with a whispered word, mindful of Tonks sleeping across the hall. She was already in her pajamas, so he whispered a quick cleaning spell and pulled the blankets up around her. She looked peaceful in her sleep, Severus decided. She looks like she is still innocent. Like she wasn't forced to kill a man.
He stood at the side of her bed for a moment longer, then left the room and the Safe House.
Dementors. In Little Whinging.
Hermione was spitting mad- pacing and shouting in a tight circle in the gym at the Safe House as Severus looked on, a hint of an amused smile on his face.
"Who sends bloody Dementors to a Muggle neighborhood? The fucking incompetence of the Ministry is usually a bloody mess, but this loss of control is nothing short of disastrous! What? Did they just get so tired of having their heads permanently attached to someone else's arse that they decided to try sticking their bleeding craniums up their own arseholes?"
A low chuckle escaped Severus' mouth. It was quiet and husky, snarky in its own way. It was enough to stop Hermione in her tracks because it was awfully endearing.
Slowly, she put her hands down, anger dimming. "Something amusing you?" she asked, pushing annoyance to the forefront of her mind- he would probably be embarrassed and never laugh in front of her again if she made any other kind of mention about it.
"Your vocabulary and syntax has Nymphadora Tonks written all over it," Severus informed her wryly. "Are you through?"
Hermione blinked, then nodded. "Yep," she said, nodding again. "Alright. Who do you think did it?" Her stride became lithe and predatory as she crossed the room to lean on the same wall Severus had used to observe her. They were face to face, close enough for Hermione to feel the light touch of his breath on her face.
On Severus' part, he thought she looked gloriously dangerous when thoroughly pissed off- she was all Hermione, wild dark hair and pale skin with glittering eyes narrowed into thin slits. Normally, when mad, she looked like a hissing kitten, not this being of destruction and vengeance.
But he just smirked at her, thin amusement dancing behind his eyes, a grey so dark they were black. "I didn't invest so much time and so many books in you to do all the work myself, did I?" he drawled, nodding once at her. "Your theories first."
He half expected her to make a snarky comment about his aging mind, but she just retreated deeper into her mind, turning the problem around and examining it from multiple angles. Her brow furrowed and her expression softened, the rage melting off her face to make way for an intelligent, thoughtful expression.
"Who wants Harry dead?" she muttered. "Death Eaters, the Dark Lord. They would have attacked outright. But who wants him injured or soulless? The Ministry would love to have something like this- but it's too perfect for that cesspool of human ignorance to come up with. Harry would either have to leave his cousin, painting him as a cowardly muggle-hater, lose against the Dementors, which takes care of the entire problem, or fight back, which was the most likely option with his temper and hero complex. If he did lose his temper, that would violate the Statute for the Reasonable Restrictions on Underage Sorcery. The Ministry would be able to say they never authorized any Dementors to Little Whinging, and Harry would be branded a liar which would further discredit him."
Although his face was impassive, Severus was shaking his head with amazement in the privacy of his own mind. She was brilliant.
Hermione looked up, a look of deep concentration on her face. "We're looking for an up-and-coming someone at the Ministry, someone who would like to get in the Minister's good graces. He or she would have to have the authority to send out the Dementors and then cover it up. If it is a man, I'd say young and ambitious, like Percy Weasley. If it's a woman, she's either too self-respecting or too ugly to go at it the easy way."
That caught him off guard. "The easy way?" he repeated, mulling over her conclusion in his head. It made sense- except for that last part.
"Yeah," Hermione said, looking away and flushing suddenly. "You know. Ankles in the air. A pretty woman can get anywhere but the absolute top if she uses her looks from what I've seen of the Wizarding World."
"And you would know?" Severus asked slowly, deliberately, his anger growing.
She was still looking away. "Of course not, Severus. I said pretty girls." She finally met his eyes, her own defiant. He didn't say anything. "Mrs. Weasley needed me to help with the downstairs bathroom at Headquarters and I need to do another rotation." She walked out of the room, all the previous confidence gone.
Severus sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose briefly.
Half-way into July, Hermione had begun to use her Time Turner in earnest, using it to split her time between the Safe House and Number 12, Grimmauld Place. The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was dusty and derelict, a faded glory of an Ancient and Noble House. Sirius was miserable there, and Hermione sympathized with him. The Marauder didn't have a Time Turner, however, so he was stuck playing man of the house. Or rather, dangerous criminal of the dirty Headquarters.
Hermione's more formal lessons had ceased- she no longer received instruction from Andromeda Tonks, Kingsley was staying under the radar at the Ministry, and she only got to see her Hogwarts professors on occasion. They were all busy with various projects- McGonagall and Flitwick were working on strengthening the school's defense for example. The two invited her to watch them for the first few days, when they were removing and replacing sections of the warding. She promptly returned to the Safe House and warded her bedroom against possible Death Eater invasions to practice. Dobby had to find her and beg permission to tidy the small space.
So Hermione's time at Safe House Three was spent reading and researching, sparring and dueling with Tonks and Snape, and having long discussions with Remus. Every few days, Snape would stop by around tea time, and the two would sequester themselves in a small sitting room to the side and argue wildly on a variety of subjects. Their topics ranged from Potions to Muggle politics, jumped between Dark magic to European dictators, and touched lightly (or not so lightly) on biochemistry and wandless magic. Hermione lived for those days- while Remus was nice enough to talk to, he didn't have Severus' biting wit, acerbic comments, or grudging insult-wrapped praise when she made a particularly good point.
But at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Hermione was miserable. When she wasn't laboring to clear away the pests and dust, she was putting up with both Ronald and Molly Weasley. The former was interested in copying her summer homework and hearing what had happened in the graveyard; the latter was determined to see her youngest son and Hermione together and was therefore pushing them together every chance she got. Ginny was sympathetic at least, but she wasn't quite the same as Tonks. The Auror and Hermione had grown quite close, but since they couldn't explain how they had known each other for years, they had to act as if they had just met and hit it off.
As much as she disliked denying the friendship, Hermione loved the opportunity to practice subterfuge, even subterfuge as simple as a bit of acting. She balanced her two 'sides,' carefully- Harry and Ron and Ginny never knew that she was sneaking off, let alone where she was sneaking off to. There was Hermione, the over-achieving student who loved books and was waiting eagerly for school to start again. And then there was Hermione, the woman-girl who loved to fight with knives and spells, who slipped into the bathroom to go back in time and duel or debate with her Potions Professor.
At least she had the light advantage of knowing what was really doing on when the Order met behind the kitchen doors. Severus and Albus had inducted her into the Order early in the summer, a small ceremony in the Headmaster's office. With a twist of her hourglass and a few disguising spells, Hermione was able to sit in on the meetings.
Which was what she was currently doing- sitting in on a meeting of the Inner Circle. Her other self was outside the door, listening halfheartedly with Fred, George, Ginny, and Ron. If she squinted, she could make out the fleshy Extendable Ears peeping under the door.
"When can the advance guard go for him?" demanded Sirius once again. "Harry needs to be at the Ministry on the twelfth for his trial. And it would do him more good to be here, around friends rather than his god-awful relatives."
Albus peered at the angry man, projecting his familiar air of grandfatherly disapproval. "Sirius, Harry must remain at his aunt's house for another two days. However, Severus and I have come up with a plan to evacuate him safely."
"Then we want to hear this plan," Remus said quietly, but firmly. Many heads nodded, agreeing with the werewolf.
Severus glanced around the table, dark eyes dispassionate. "An Advance Guard will arrive at Potter's house in the evening, and escort him to Headquarters. Simple as that. Mad-Eye will lead the Guard. Who wants to volunteer?" He sneered at the last sentence, as if he was expecting everyone to volunteer and was trying to discourage as many of them as he could.
Plenty of hands rose, and Severus sighed. "We are not sending the entire Inner Circle to rescue Potter," he snarled. "Tonks, Lupin, and Kingsley, take Doge, Vance, Podmore, Jones, and Diggle. Make sure they knew that you, as members of the Inner Circle, are in charge. You are competent enough to handle this."
Tonks, unfazed by his bad mood, winked at him. "And our favorite little lioness?" she asked, glancing over in Hermione's direction. "Will she come along?"
Severus looked over at Hermione, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head. "Too risky," she explained, in a voice far rougher than her normal tone. "And there is flying involved. Unless you want me falling off my broom onto some poor soul's roof, I'd best stay here, Severus."
The Potions Master nodded, then turned back to the planning. The Order members whispered among themselves briefly, until Snape's glare made them fall silent once more. "Then we plan for two days' time," he said harshly. "Tonks, can you figure out a way to lure that awful woman and her whales out of the house?"
The Auror nodded slowly, surprised at the level of venom in his voice. "I'll get to it," she said warily. "What time?"
"Evening," Moody said gruffly. "We fly under the cover of the night. We should get here in time for a late dinner, if you will, Molly."
The round woman nodded, pleased to be able to help for once. "I'll push back supper an hour, Alastor," she said. "Will that be enough?"
The group continued to work out logistics, before moving to the more serious topics, namely the prophecy. When Severus directed a pointed glance in her direction, Hermione cast a discreet spell at the Ears. The twins had been kind enough to show her exactly how they made them. She had offered to solve a glitch in invisibility spells and installed a glitch of her own at the same time. Now all the children waiting outside the door would hear a conversation on the rotating schedule for guarding Harry rather than anything important.
"What new information do you have about the how the prophecy is guarded?" asked Sirius, leaning back in his chair, cocky as ever. His eyes were wary, but his tone held a hint of a challenge.
Heaven protect me from simple people who wish to know things beyond their ken, Severus thought with a sigh. "Nothing you need to know, Black," he snapped. "Just more information on the technical aspect. I don't believe you would understand how a difference in a rune can change the entire protection system."
Black obviously did not know, and was gearing up for a fight when Dumbledore intervened. "The Ministry intends to plant an informant in Hogwarts this year," the Headmaster interrupted, kindly. "Her name is Dolores Umbridge and she is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."
Kingsley frowned, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "I know her," he said in his low melodic voice. "She's the Undersecretary to the Minister. She's a strong supporter of Pureblood rights, and her influence in the Ministry is one of reasons our friend Remus has such a hard life."
"She has been the one to pass most of the anti-werewolf legislation in the last ten years," Hermione added, drawing surprised glances. She usually didn't talk much during the Order meetings. "Along with prohibitive measures against what she calls 'half-breeds' and 'lower life forms.'"
"Unfortunately, she is our best option," Dumbledore informed them with a sigh. "But there arises a problem in all of this. The Ministry has been working very hard so far to cover up any sign of Voldemort's return. We fear that she will begin spreading rumors and lies about the school of my incompetence and Harry's mental state. Please try to encourage those around you to see the truth, as long as it not a risk to your own wellbeing."
Soon after, the meeting ended, members of the Inner Circle of the Order of the Phoenix spilling from the kitchen and Apparating off into the night. Severus remained behind, as did Hermione. The two of them waited until all but the Weasleys and Tonks remained in the kitchen.
"Goodbye, Molly, Arthur," Hermione said politely, pulling on a cloak. "I'll see you next week." The couple nodded back. Few in the Order knew her true identity; she was just another member to them, albeit one who was neither tall nor talkative.
She waited on the stoop for Severus. It was safer to go in pairs, now. They would Apparate to an alley in London, and from there go to Wales, before he would take her inside the illusion of the cottage.
He appeared a moment later, tall and solemn next to her. The door shut behind him with a bang, a force of the cold and misty summer that had fallen upon England. There were two gas lamps on either side of the stoop, flickering in the damp. Hermione caught herself looking at how the light played on the features of the Potions Master, highlighting the severity of his features.
"Are you ready to leave?" he asked, almost cordially. At Hermione's nod, he smiled slightly. "Same alley as last time," he instructed, before disappearing with a pop.
Hermione followed, spinning on her heel and concentrating fiercely on her destination. She knew she was in the right place when the acrid smells of rotting garbage and cigarette smoke assaulted her nose. Severus was beside her, wand still out. Two shadows peeled off from the clusters lining the brick buildings to stand in front of them. Hermione could sense movement behind her, and judged that others had done the same.
She sank into a fighting stance, the wand she was keeping a good grip on ready to whip into the motions of a Stunner. In the light, the shadows turned into men, thick bodied and wearing long cloaks and masks.
"Hullo, traitor," one of them greeted Snape cheerfully. "Got a little girlfriend with you?" He leered at Hermione, who resisted the urge to shiver and lean into Severus.
Snape's upper lip curled in a snarl. "Archon. Did you lose your brain or sell it for liquor? The Dark Lord-"
"You have no right to call him the Dark Lord," hissed another of the men, this one short and bulky with muscle. He was the only one not wearing a mask. His bald head gleamed in the scant moonlight, a mild coating of perspiration making it shine.
"As I was saying," Snape said snappishly, glancing down at Hermione, "The Dark Lord was most pleased with the way I never abandoned my post." He was buying her time, Hermione realized. Silently, she cast small tripping jinxes in the area around the men, and exhaled a wind-moving spell. It would work slowly, but would bring all the mist and fog toward her, and therefore, Severus.
He has stopped talking, as had the two men in front of them. From what Hermione could gather from the conversation, their names were Archon and Gibbons. Now they too were gearing up for a fight.
"You cannot escape us, Snape. Bellatrix has told us of your lies. You never suffered for the Dark Lord," one of the ones behind them purred, giving Hermione just cause to turn around like a scared rabbit to face them. It appeared that one of them was a woman- red hair was piled on her head, and she had a distinctly curvy frame.
She raised her wand higher, managing to nudge Snape with her elbow. Three seconds later, they attacked. Hermione sent a vicious Bone-Breaker in the woman's direction, then Conjured a wooden block to take the impact of the Killing Curse the other Death Eater had thrown at her. In a sudden moment, she was glad they had taught her how to fight protecting another person. Her first instinct was to dodge, which would have allowed the curse to hit Severus square in the back.
The female Death Eater down, Hermione sent an Entrail-Expelling Curse at the other one she was facing. He dodged as she had anticipated, right into a powerful Stunner. She whirled around to help Snape, only to see him calmly fell the last of their opponents.
They looked at each other for a moment, breathing barely strained. "Are you injured, Hermione?" Severus asked haltingly.
"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "What now?" she asked, glancing down at the bodies scattered around the alley.
"We dispose of them," Severus said quietly. "Are the ones you fought dead?"
Hermione fought the urge to flush like a twelve year old. "One is just Stunned," she admitted. "The other one- the woman- I hit her in the chest with a Bone-Breaker. Her ribs had to have punctured her lungs and heart."
Severus stalked over to examine the bodies, turning over the woman with the red hair. "Alcott," he murmured. "Damn you, girl. You had half a mind- you could have made something of yourself." He moved on to the next one. "Redd. You, on the other hand, were as intelligent as a doorknob. I don't see much difference now." He sighed, then reached into his robes and withdrew a shrunken potions kit. He expanded it, withdrew a small vial of a milky substance, and dropped three drops into Redd's mouth. He waited a few moments, then checked his pulse. "Dead," he announced.
"What do we do with the bodies?" Hermione asked, willing her voice not to tremble.
Severus gave her a strangely sympathetic look- but a look that would have appeared no different to his normal face to any other person. "We take a page out of Barty Crouch's book and Transfigure the bodies. Bones should be easy enough."
They worked quietly, incanting under their breaths and gathering up the five Transfigured bones. Without a word, Severus offered her his arm, Apparating them to an abandoned beach. The sea roared and pounded at the abandoned shore, scattered with sand dunes covered with long grass and reeds. The salty wind whipped her hair, and with a start Hermione realized that she hadn't lost her concentration- it was still a straw blonde color. Strange how I'm thinking about my hair color when I've just killed a woman, Hermione thought, absentmindedly following Severus to a hollow between dunes. She let the Glamour drop.
He used magic to shift a hole in the sand, dropping the bones in and allowing Hermione to do the same with the ones she carried before releasing the sand with a solid thump. They shone in the moonlight, the bones, and Hermione's mind flashed back to the bald man, and the way his head reflected the moon.
"Hermione?" The unusually gentle voice of her professor snapped her back to full attention.
She turned her wide brown eyes on him. "Yes?"
"You were brave tonight," he said after a pause. "You helped, you kept your head, and you held your own. More importantly, you watched my back. You are a credit to your teachers." I'm going soft in my old age, Severus thought to himself. I'll be thirty-six this year. And thinking about my age is helping me avoid thinking about the one topic I do not want to think about.
The seriousness of the moment held in the air for a moment. "Thank you," Hermione replied. "Why did they come after you?"
She almost regretted asking when his face tightened almost imperceptibly. "Bellatrix believes that I am not loyal to the Dark Lord. The crazy bitch is right, of course, which makes lying to her harder. But tonight was helpful. No one escaped alive to say I had help, and it will likely deter her from sending more lackeys after me. If I had had to choose a time to be attacked by idiotic thugs, this would have been it." His eyes flashed over at hers, dark in the reflected moon off the sea. "Two wands are better than one, especially when you have thrice that pointed at you."
Hermione breathed out slowly, letting go of most of the tension that was still in her body. For some reason, his comment had made her feel happier, lighter. She fought the urge to grin widely at him, clearing her throat and asking, "To the Safe House now?" in a voice as normal as she could manage.
"Yes," Severus said. "If you would…" she accepted his arm, and let him Side-Along her to the illusion. It was a complicated thing to do- and Hermione hadn't yet gotten her official Apparation license, so it was easier for everyone involved if Snape Apparated her through the illusion. She was tired and if she Splinched she didn't want to have to explain herself to anyone. It was comforting in a way- trusting him. Hermione Granger didn't trust very many people.
But she trusted Severus Snape.
Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place cold and hungry from the long broom ride and surrounded with an aura of something Hermione could only define as angst.
She ran to him, throwing her arms around Harry just to reassure herself that he was alright. The Dementor attacks couldn't have helped with his mental state- she had been buzzing with nervous tension for the last week and she hadn't been stagnating in Little Whinging for a week.
At first, it seemed as if he would just stand there like a log as she attempted to squeeze the living daylights out of him; however, Harry soon grabbed her as tightly as she was hugging him. She knew why- she saw him dead in her nightmares and she was sure he had been seeing her corpse in his dreams.
"It's good to see you, Hermione," he said after a minute. "I-" He flushed. "It's good to see you."
She gave him an understanding smile, patting his arm nicely. "You too, Harry. I'm sorry our letters were useless- Dumbledore didn't want us saying anything important in case they were intercepted."
A brief frown swept over Harry's face. "What-"
"Harry!" Ginny appeared from the top of the staircase. "You're here!" The perky redhead grinned down at them over the railing. "Come on up, Ron's waiting upstairs!"
More talk was saved for later, as Harry was taken up to his room. He glanced at the walls with a distaste that was obvious to Hermione, who pretended not to notice. Ron gave him a manly slug on the shoulder, and Ginny hugged him daintily. The siblings chatted incessantly, either ignoring or not picking up on Harry's swiftly darkening mood.
Hermione kept a cautious eye one him- mentally bracing herself for the coming explosion. Ron was in the midst of a detailed account of the Cannon's latest 'almost win' when Hermione nudged Ginny. The girl looked at her with questioning eyes, and Hermione nodded toward the door. Ginny frowned, but took the hint, rising from the bed and leaving the shabby room.
When the door clicked shut behind her, Harry finally exploded. "HOW CAN YOU JUST SIT HERE AND ACT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?"
Ron was flabbergasted, eyes almost comically wide. "Harry-"
"NO!" Harry shouted. "VOLDEMORT IS BACK AND ALL YOU CAN TALK ABOUT IS QUIDDITCH!"
He looked ready to go on, but Hermione stood up and fixed him with her sternest glare. "Harry!" That stopped him in his tracks, fury still etched on his face. "Stop. Now."
"Why?" Harry asked resentfully, but with much less volume. "I've been cooped up on Privet Drive all summer while you and Ron are at the thick of everything. I come in, and all you can talk about is a losing Quidditch team! All I want to know is what is going on!"
Ron glanced at Hermione, then spoke. "It's not like we know anything either, mate," he said warily. "We haven't been allowed to sit in on meetings, or anything."
Hermione held out a hand, but Harry erupted again. "SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEY'S FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT- WHO SAVED THE SORCERER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM DEMENTORS?"
"Harry!" Hermione said again when he stopped for air. "Think about what you are saying." Her glare hardened as she advanced on her friend. "Yes, we've been together. We have been cleaning every waking moment to try and make this place fit for human habitation. Yes, you've handled more than Ron or I have ever managed. But remember that you cannot claim all responsibility all of our- our adventures over the years."
Harry looked slightly cowed at that. However, it wasn't in his nature to back down from a fight immediately, especially if Hermione was the one he was fighting with. His face screwed up again, and he turned a bit redder. "I've faced Voldemort-"
"So have I," Hermione snapped back at him, not giving Harry time to get started again. "Do you remember me screaming at your feet? Throwing myself in front of the curses so you would live?" Some part of her felt guilty at the guilt she was making him feel, but another, more vindictive side, was taking a vicious pleasure at the releasing of anger.
Now Harry's face was covered in guilt. "Hermione, I-"
"Who played the chess game that let you through to the troll, Harry?" Hermione demanded, stalking forward and backing him against a wall. "Who fought the troll with you? Who solved Snape's riddle? Who discovered Slytherin's Monster was a basilisk? Who went with you to fight the bloody thing? Who ran through the Triwzard maze to try and warn you about the Dark Lord? Who begged him to spare you and take her instead?"
Ron was staring in amazement, seeing Harry backing away from a slip of a girl. Granted, that girl looked fierce, eyes alight with a cold sort of burning rage that made Ron shiver slightly. Harry looked as if he was regretting his earlier words, but Hermione was having none of it.
"Yes, you are the Boy-Who-Lived, and yes, you've done more than any of us. But don't forget that you've had help, Harry." The anger dissipated from Hermione's face, and she regarded him with a calm expression.
Harry looked down at her sheepishly. "I know, Hermione. I'm sorry. I'm just- upset."
"I know," Hermione said, hugging him again. "Just don't forget those who've helped you along with way." When they parted, the compassion in her eyes made something in Harry relax. He knew that she forgave him.
Hermione led him over to the bed, and sat down next to him. "How have you been dealing with everything, Harry?" she asked him seriously. "Are you having bad dreams, or flashbacks, or anything of the sort?"
Shocked, Harry nodded. "Yeah- I've been dreaming about it. How'd you-" He flushed, glancing down to the side guiltily. "Oh. Yeah."
"We can talk later," Hermione said comfortingly, stopping herself from glancing at Ron. The boy was absurdly jealous of the connection Harry and Hermione shared from their experience in the graveyard. No matter how many times Hermione repeated that it was not something either of them would want repeated, Ron would not let go of his jealousy.
Harry threw her a grateful look. "Thanks, Mione."
"No problem," she replied, winking at him. "I'm here for you." Their eyes met in a moment, tortured emerald meeting comforting honey. "No matter what."
And so ends Chapter Nine.
As you can see, a good chunk of Harry's rage was taken directly from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, with edits for the change of events.
I'm very glad that almost everyone who reviewed understood what I was trying to do with the last chapter, in terms of Hermione's growth. Here, again, I did the same thing. Hermione has to become a fighter, and in she hit two bird with one stone: she proved to herself that she can handle an everyday dangerous situation, and she truly proved herself to Severus.
For those who haven't seen it, tumblr user thelonliesttimeline made FANART for this story (I shall now love her forever) and the link can be found on my author's page since fanfiction eats links and removing spaces is annoying. It is seriously great- she drew the part where Severus picks up Hermione to take her to the hospital wing. Go check it out, it is lovely.
For those who care about the author's personal life: Things are definitely looking up. The job is still intimidating (it's the first time they've ever hired a teenager and they seem nervous about it too) and I swallowed my pride and wrote a nice letter to the program thanking them for considering me. And then I kind of realized that school starts in 19 freaking days and I have moutains of summer homework to do. Gulp.
Thank you for reading, and comments are, as always, appreciated. See you next Friday!