Hello my dear readers!

I realize it has been long time since I've updated - I'm so sorry. However, real life got in the way big time and the school year has started and time sort of just got away from me. Whoops.

But this is a long chapter! Hopefully that makes up for my absence!

Since it's been a long time... a summary:

Dumbledore went behind Hermione and co's back to try to find the Gaunt Ring, because he thought it might have the Resurrection Stone, which is a myth. Hermione and Severus were brought together to help heal him, but he does not have much time left. Severus and Hermione have realized that the way the Order is set up is going to have to change - Dumbledore can no longer be the only person who knows everything. Our two lovers have also realized that it was foolish to be separated - especially since Dumbledore, who did not want them together, is no longer as powerful or as influential as he was. The search for Horcruxes has stalled - no luck in Romania. Everyone is back in school, Draco has reluctantly become a turncoat, and Severus and Hermione are working on their relationship.

Chapter 55

Hermione left the warmth of Severus' bed before the light of the morning broke upon the horizon. Severus had woken her with a brief closed mouth kiss, even surlier in the morning than he would have been otherwise. Hermione sighed, relishing the feeling of bare skin upon bare skin, then pushed back the covers and stepped onto the cold flagstones.

"You need to get a rug," she told him, shivering as she gathered her clothes.

He had flung an arm over his eyes as she lit her wand to see what she was doing. He didn't move it as he spoke. "I do have a rug. It's on my side of the bed." It was said acerbically, as that was Severus's way. Another woman it might have fazed, but all Hermione did was smile fondly at the man in front of her.

Hermione slipped her robe over her casual clothes, then crawled back up onto the bed to kiss his mouth. "I'll see you later, love," she told him. "Enjoy a lie-in before breakfast."

He grumbled something at her, and quiet as a secret Hermione left his rooms and started making her way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Once she was out of the dungeons, Hermione didn't bother to hide herself. It was early, yes, but if anyone spotted her, she was had emerged close to the Library and was talking that familiar path back to her rooms. It was an alibi, of sorts. She had been studying all night, and that was why she was wearing yesterday's clothes and her hair was in a dreadful state.

Still, no one but the pearly ghosts were in the halls, some nodding to her as she passed. She nodded back, unable to keep a small smile off her face.

How long had she imagined those strong hands and delicate fingers of her Potions Master doing things to her? How many times had she watched him prepare potions, or wave his hands around while talking, and felt a low burn in her belly? Now she knew what her body had been telling her all along – this feeling was the feeling those hands could give her. Her body felt relaxed and her mind was clear and her spirits high. When she walked she could feel ghosts of what his hands had done to her the night before, pleasant and heavy.

"You look like the cat who got the cream," said a familiar voice from behind her. "Wotcher, Hermione."

Hermione had to force her heart to slow. "You scared the shite out of me, Tonks," she said, resting a hand over her chest. "Sweet Merlin! Out of anyone, you should know not to jump out at me!" Still, she said it with a laugh and hugged her friend. "Good to see you."

"If you didn't get Dumbledore to get the Ministry to assign me to Hogwarts duty with the intention of actually seeing me once in a while, I don't know why you did it," Tonks said, sighing. "It certainly isn't anything too exciting. Sneaking up on you is the most fun I've had in a bloody long while."

Tonks laughed at the face Hermione pulled. "What are you doing walking around at four in the morning?"

"I spent the night studying in the library," Hermione lied, her mouth stretching into a yawn. "I didn't keep track of the time-"

"Bullshit," Tonks said. "You've got sex hair, two hickeys on your neck, and I haven't seen you this relaxed in ages. You were visiting your lover boy. And probably having birthday sex, you lucky witch."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Tonks. "So much studying. The library was quite captivating, so late at night – and you've got hickeys of your own Miss Sanctimonious so there!" But despite the small red marks on Tonk's neck, something wasn't quite right. Her nose was a bit longer and wider than she normally kept it, and her hair was light brown instead of a fun shade of pink or blue. Hermione had attributed it to guard duty, but perhaps that wasn't the case.

Tonks grinned down at her halfheartedly. "The difference is I'm not trying to hide mine."

"So Remus has come around then?" Hermione offered, tilting her head.

She was met with a shrug. "Kind of. During the full moon he gets a little more … uninhibited? It's nothing really noticeable really. Except his sense are a little better and he's more sensitive to smells especially and he makes some decisions he wouldn't have otherwise. We're not together, it was just a one-time thing. Successful mission, he was home for a couple days before going back out to live with Greyback's werewolves… I'm trying not to make too much out of it, Hermione, I really am."

Suddenly, Hermione felt guilty for the love bites on her neck. "I'm sorry, Tonks," she said awkwardly. "He'll figure it out. It's war time, and that has a habit of making people sort out their priorities."

They continued walking through the quiet halls. "Whatever you say, Hermione," Tonks said, sighing again. Her hair hadn't changed from its mousy brown color. "What's the latest on our little task?"

Hermione glanced around, taking note of the portraits. Three were sleeping, and there were no ghosts around. "Not good," she admitted. "No new leads. We're looking for the diadem, the snake is out of our reach, and the cup is nowhere." And I have no idea how to get that Horcrux out of Harry's head.

Tonks bit her lip. "About that… I wanted you to ask Dumbledore about something. You see, after Bellatrix died, her possessions were supposed to go to her next of kin. But, of course, with the Ministry in the state it's in, nothing's happening. Gringotts won't move to pass on her possessions until the Ministry says. And there's two problems. "

"Oh?"

Tonks lengthened her hair so that she could tug on it. "I wanted to talk to Kingsley Shacklebolt before mentioning it to you, Hermione. You see, my dear auntie was still a convicted felon. So, technically, her account at Gringotts was frozen. But it was only frozen part way – no one could take things out, but people could still put things in. And since she inherited the biggest and safest Black vault with the death of Regulus-"

"Stop there," Hermione told her. "We need to talk about this, but somewhere else. There's too many eyes and ears out here in the open." As she said the words, a ghost floated past, nodding a hello to both of them.

"Right," Tonks said. "Where?"

They weren't far from the seventh floor- silently, Tonks and Hermione made their way to the Room of Requirement. Hermione walked them back and forth along the corridor three times – the final time, Tonks protesting, "We just walked past here, Hermione, what are you- Oh."

"I forgot where exactly this door was," Hermione said sheepishly. "Here it is!"

There was a nice cozy room, with two squashy armchairs and a fireplace. The two women settled themselves, and Hermione pulled a notebook out of her book bag. "Okay," Hermione said, settling back into her chair. "Let's go through this."

Tonks leaned forward. "So, like I said, Bellatrix is dead, and her Gringotts vault is up for grabs. It's a nice vault to – she inherited the Black vault after Regulus died, because she was the last Black in line since Sirius was blasted off the tree – and my mum too, come to think of it. But that leaves a couple options for who gets what's in her vault."

"How many claimants are there?" asked Hermione.

"Well, first, she was a convicted felon," said Tonks. "So the Ministry could opt to take what's in her vault. And depending which department claims it, then it could fall into the hands of Death Eaters. With the level of infiltration the Order suspects, any items of interest to us could go mysteriously missing."

Hermione frowned. "I don't like the sound of that," she admitted. "Who else?"

"Then there are her various relatives," Tonks said. "There's her sister, Narcissa. That's one option, and probably the best of the family claimants. Narcissa and Draco, since they are Blacks by blood, and since Draco is a male. And then there is my mum, but she's still been blasted off the family tree and officially disinherited. But then there's also Harry."

That was surprising. "Harry?" asked Hermione. "Because of Sirius?"

"Sirius was unofficially disinherited, but not officially," said Tonks. "He left all of his possessions to Harry. Harry's already had access to Sirius' vault, which was made easier because he was never convicted so the Ministry couldn't order Gringotts to hold off the inheritance with any sort of legal authority, although they tried. But since Sirius could have technically made a claim on the vault, had he been a live, Harry could also presumably make a claim in his name. However, Harry is only a Black by very distantly by blood, so his claim wouldn't be as strong as mine or Draco's."

Looking down at her notes, Hermione let a small hope spring up inside her chest. "And the last claimants?" she asked. "Who else would have a claim?'

Tonks ran a hand through her hair, a few streaks of pale pink following her fingers. She was starting to get excited. "The Longbottoms," she said, practically vibrating in her seat. "Neville and his grandmum. They are her most prominent victims. They could ask for reparations for what happened to Frank and Alice – emotional and physical damages, especially for Neville. And…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And then there's you," Tonks said quietly. "You've killed her, so you get the rights of the victor, so to speak. So there are a lot of people who have a claim to what is in those vaults. And a lot of those people are on our side."

More than you would think, Hermione thought. "What did Kingsley think?" she asked.

"That we need to start filing for rights," Tonks said. "I could file one separately to my mum, Neville and his grandmother would have to file together, you would file, Harry would file, and then if they cottoned on, Draco and Narcissa would each file separately."

Hermione rubbed her temples. "That's a lot of interested parties. Who has the best shot?"

Tonks shrugged. "It's a crapshoot. But Shacklebolt said we would have counter measures. So, if the Ministry tries to claim it as a convicted felon, you could argue that since you were technically the one who apprehended her, you should get the contents of her vault. They may demand a large portion of the gold, but you could keep a large number of precious artifacts. Or the Malfoys could claim that a lot of the artifacts are family heirlooms and should therefore go to them. Or the Longbottoms could claim a portion because they were the harmed parties, along with any other prominent victims of Bellatrix. It's really up in the air."

"I'm going to have to go to Dumbledore with this," Hermione said finally. "And figure out a plan of attack. You think there may be Horcrux in her vault?"

Tonks shrugged. "I know that the Dark Lord trusted her. Bill mentioned to me that there were a lot of really, really nasty dark objects in that vault. We could always find something useful." Her face was earnest, hopeful.

Hermione smiled at her. "Fantastic work, Tonks. Really bloody brilliant."

The Auror grinned, and stood up from her seat. "Thanks, Hermione. I have to get back to my rounds, but I'll see you soon?"

"Of course," she said. "You go on without me, I actually need to catch up on some homework."

With a wave of her hand and a change in the color of her hair, Tonks left the Room of Requirement. Hermione watched her go, eyes narrowed. If this went on much longer, she would talk to Remus. Sirius had died too young and with too little love in his life. If he had seen his best friend acting this way, he would have smacked him upside the head. Remus and Tonks both deserved love, and all the reasons that Remus had thrown out so far were shit.

When the door clicked shut behind Tonks, Hermione let out a long breath and stretched, arching her back and curling like a cat. Her body felt five kinds of relaxed, courtesty of Severus Snape.

Well, she was officially seventeen in the Wizarding World. Legally able to do all of the things she had been doing for a while now… Drink, Apparate, have sex…

Well, she supposed what had happened the night before was sex. Hermione had always kind of vaguely imagined jumping right into sex – virgin one moment and not the next, moving from kissing to touching and then to the act itself all in the course of a night. In retrospect, she felt a bit silly. It wasn't really like her and Severus to do things quickly.

Part of her was terrified that she had made the wrong decision the night before, to allow things to progress as far as they had. What if he left again, what if he once again chose to cut that precious bond that held them to each other? Another part felt like what had happened wasn't enough, that she wanted more, that she wanted to be greedy and take all of him into her. That part was also fed by fear; fear that he would leave her again with memories of nothing but his hand against her sex and then she would be left to crave and imagine what it would have been like to be with him in his entirety.

It seemed to her that the physical remains on her body were no more – her loins didn't feel so heavy and tender anymore, her muscles seemed to have let go of that languid pleasure – but still she could not move without the phantom memory sliding around her limbs and into her mind. She could still feel the ghosts of sparse chest hair against her back, she could still feel his fingers stroking her, she could still hear the way that he had groaned and the wetness that had spread against her back as he came. It had been something sweet and perfect tinged with a hint of the forbidden. Despite herself, in the mist of her orgasm Hermione had seen the image of his hands behind her clenched eyes, his hands as they chopped and stirred and brewed potions in front of the classroom.

She had forgotten about it as soon as she had come down from the absolute high of clenching muscles and shuddering breaths, but now all the implications rained down upon her. Would she be able to sit in his classroom and watch him gesticulate without giving a sign that she had once felt those fingers deep within her? Should she feel guilty for having sex with her professor? Would that even count as sex?

Well, she had come and he had come as well, so that was that, she decided. And it wasn't as if her grades in all her classes weren't unfair already, as she had several years of experience and age over her classmates. That was nothing to feel too awful about, because if she was going to start feeling guilty about the one she might as well start about them all.

With a sigh, Hermione stretched again and began to braid her hair. All she wanted was for everything to turn out okay. All she wanted was for this war to be over so that she could worry about her relationship with her lover without having to factor a Dark Lord and dozens of Death Eaters into the equation.

A clock in the corner of the room chimed gently, letting her know it was almost breakfast time. Hermione sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose before lithely stretching up out of her chair and going to the mirror kindly provided for her by the room. She didn't really need it by now- the Glamours she used were second nature at this point – but something felt different about her appearance this morning. It almost felt like if someone saw her, they would immediately know that she had been up to something she probably shouldn't have been with her Potions professor the night before.

Hermione pressed the wand to her face, murmuring the charms and watching intently as her face rounded slightly with youth and the red marks on her neck disappeared. She wasn't getting wrinkles, not yet, but there were a few signs of tension in her face that melted away with the spells. She applied a healthy glow to her skin – she hadn't been outside other than walking to Herbology in far too long. There was a half-thought wish in her head that had something to do with Severus and taking walks around the lake.

Appearance managed, Hermione stepped back from the mirror and made her way out of the room, off to begin her day.

A day later, Dumbledore's office held Hermione, Severus, Dumbledore, and, to Hermione's surprise, Kingsley. Hermione's eyebrows raised as she walked in to the room. "Are we doing this now, then?" she asked Dumbledore, taking a comfy armchair. "I thought you were completely opposed to the idea. Hullo, Kingsley." She offered a nod to Severus, but said nothing.

Kingsley, unruffled as ever, looked at Hermione. "I thought you were behind this in some way."

Severus gave the man a tight, humorless smile. "Then you would be right. She's the one who suggested you."

"But I am the one who confirmed it," Dumbledore cut in. "I thought this would be the right time. I've been filling in Mr. Shacklebolt here on the current situation with the Order."

Hermione glanced sidelong at Severus, and then at Kingsley. "Forgive me, Albus, but if you had been filling him in properly, I doubt he'd be sitting here as docile as a lamb." At Kingsley's look, Hermione shrugged. "Sorry, Kinglsey, but it's true. A lot has been kept from the Order, even the Inner Circle."

"That you apparently know about?" Kingsley asked, his voice low and mild. Hermione wasn't fooled – she saw the furrow in his brow.

Severus stretched his legs in front of him, drawing everyone's attention with his movement. "And that she wants you to know about too. Miss Granger and I are both of the opinion that this level of secrecy is not in the best interest of the Order.

"Some secrecy is necessary, of course," cut in Dumbledore, his tone still light as ever. "For a reasonable level of protection."

"Reasonable being the key word," Hermione said, her tone equally airy. "Let's all get up to speed."

She sat quietly as Dumbledore went through the minute details of the running of the Order, most of which Kingsley already knew. She could see Kingsley's brow furrowing deeper as he looked over the reports that Dumbledore passed him detailing resources, manpower, spies, and informants. At long last, he leaned back in his chair.

"If I thought we had a thousand to one chance before, now I think it's more like a million to one," he said wearily. "Please tell me that is all the bad news there is."

Hermione met Dumbledore's eyes. "Release me from my oath," she said. "Please."

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't think this is necessary-"

"Release me." Her eyes were fire, and his were ice.

"Not with Severus here." He replied.

Hermione scoffed. "Too late. He already knows."

"That was a foolish decision," Dumbledore spat. "It is dangerous to put too much information in a basket that dangles on the arm of Lord-"

"Albus, I'll leave," Severus said, a cutting edge in his voice. "If it would make you feel better –"

Hermione looked at her lover, who was half out of his chair. "Sit down," she ordered him, a flush rising high in her cheeks. "You need to trust him," she told Dumbledore, voice low and dangerous. "You too, Kingsley. He's not just a man you can push and push and push to do terrible things, he's not something you can use and take advantage of and toss away, he is a human being and you are going to treat him as such. Starting now. You are going to treat this man like a human being. He is risking his life for you, and so you are going to trust him. It's as simple as that. You trust him, or I will make you wish you had." Her eyes locked with Dumbledore's. There was a kind of power in the way she was sitting, back straight but her body relaxed, voice measured but eyes furious. A woman of contradictions, always, never.

There was stunned silence in the room for a long moment. Severus stayed posed above his chair, looking at Hermione with an expressionless face. Behind his eyes he was marveling at her contained fury, something he was sure that Dumbledore was seeing as well. He wasn't sure about Kingsley – the man knew Hermione, but not well.

At last, he settled back into his seat, crossing his legs. "The lady has spoken," Severus said finally. "Albus?"

The Headmaster and the woman in front of him remained still and quiet. With a small start, Severus realized that one of them was reading the other. Legilimency. He glanced over at Kingsley, who looked unruffled. He would make a bloody good leader for this ragtag group of overly excitable idiots.

Severus cleared his throat, and the two broke eye contact.

"Your views are quite strong, Miss Granger," said Albus with a sigh. "I hope you understand I am only trying to keep our world safe."

Hermione also sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I am too."

"You are young," Dumbledore said. There was a strange sadness in his tone, and he rubbed his burnt hand with a touch that lingered with regret. "But I am old. You are released from your vow."

Hermione breathed out as she felt the magic swirl around her. "Thank you."

The discussion moved to Horcruxes, but Severus stayed silent. He was afraid that if he spoke, his voice would crack with all the love he felt for the woman in front of him.

"When will the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army be, Harry?" Ron's words were spoken over a game of Wizard's Chess, barely audible over the crackle of the fireplace. Hermione's head jerked up from where she was curled up reading on the couch.

"Shite!" she said. "I had completely forgotten. We need to get that started up again, Harry!"

Harry scowled at Ron over the chess board. "You did that on purpose," he said accusingly.

Ron shrugged, a look of complete innocence on his face. "Did what?'

Harry's scowl turned blacker. "We don't need the DA anymore, like I already told you, Ron."

"Yes, we do need the DA," Hermione said, setting down her book. "Of course we need it!" She saw exactly what had happened – Ron had already asked Harry about this, been shot down, and had broached it again in front of her for backup. Just as if I was mum, she thought with exasperation.

Harry pushed his king to the side to avoid an attack from Ron's bishop. "We have a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year. What's the need?"

Hermione took a steadying breath, and set her textbook down next to her. "You need the DA, Harry. They don't need you, you need them."

That made both Ron and Harry look at her. Ron immediately began to sputter, "What are you talking about! Of course they need Harry-"

But Harry met Hermione's eyes. "You're right – they don't need me. But I don't see how I need them –"

"This isn't a fight you win alone, Harry," Hermione said gently. She settled down into a cross-legged seat next to him, putting a hand on his knee and making eye contact. "You need friends and you need followers and you need allies. That's where the DA comes in. These are students who trust you and will follow you. They are your support system here in Hogwarts. The Order is your support system everywhere else, but the DA are the people you count on in here."

There was a moment when Hermione thought he might rebel against it, but to her surprise he sighed and straightened his shoulders.

"What do I have left to teach them?" asked Harry. "We don't have a unifying cause anymore."

Ron shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, mate. Everyone hates Snape."

Hermione winced internally. "Let's not unite around a hatred of Snape," she hedged. "We can use it as a study group."

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Fine," he said. "But you're helping me with the lesson plans again, Hermione. And you too, Ron. You can work on strategy stuff, because you're good at it." Harry ruefully gestured to the chessboard. "You've got me beat."

Hermione tapped a finger against her lips, thinking. "That's… a brilliant idea, Harry. There isn't any definite evidence yet, but there are rumors that Hogwarts might come under fire sometime in the near future. We should have a plan for how the DA would best be used in that scenario. I don't know if the Order would want them to fight, but they could be useful in other ways." That was a lie – there was definitely evidence that the Dark Lord wanted to take over Hogwarts. But they didn't need to know that, not just yet.

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! They could get younger students out and they could alert Order members, or - or , they could guard important things away from the real fighting, or hell, Hermione, we could fight ourselves, you know we could."

Hermione smiled at him. "Keep on thinking, Ron," she told him. "We can find a way for the DA to be useful."

"We could even have some Order members come in and give some talks," added Ron. "So they could be useful to us. Lupin would be fantastic, and Moody – he would scare the shit out of the ones who hadn't had him yet If they're all patrolling we can sneak them into the Room of Requirement."

Harry fiddled with a chess piece. "Yeah. That way I don't have to teach everything."

As the two boys started to plan, Hermione settled back on the couch with her book, leaving them to it. She listened with half an ear to the conversation, paying more attention to her book.

Yet another book on souls and soul magic. This one was lighter reading than some of the other books she had gotten from Borgin and Burkes. This one was talking about the soul's connection to the body, what kept inside a person's skin.

Souls are not unique to humans, but human souls are unique in that they are not solely connected to the corporeal form, but to the essence of the human themselves. Wizarding souls have the added connection of magic, which is the reasons that we have ghosts. Wizarding and human souls are connected to the world of the living through three sources – the living, breathing body, the emotional connection to people or objects in the world of the living, and the desire to stay.

Muggles can, contrary to popular opinion, stay in the realm of the living after death if and even if they have sufficient emotional connection and desire to stay, two factors which are typically intertwined. For example, a mother who dies and goes beyond does not have insufficient emotional attachment to her children, but perhaps insufficient desire to stay, since they recognize their time is over. But a Muggle who dies before their time and does not realize they are dead, and has a sufficient emotional connection to a place or a person, can haunt that place or person specifically. Their soul is tied to the living realm through attachment to a living object. They are not physical beings, like ghosts, and often cannot cause much other than minor nuisance in the world of the living.

For Wizards, however, there are more options for staying in the realm of the living after death. The most common is the practice of becoming a ghost. A ghost can move on at any time, but they cannot come back to the living once they have left. Many consider this choice a cowardly one, made out of fear of the unknown. It is interesting, however, that many who were historians in life choose to become ghosts in order to inform the people of the future.

There is one other method, one that I will say only this about: to create a Horcrux requires the death of another soul to split the soul of the murderer. It is a murder characterized by a soul deciding its value is greater than the value of another soul. All souls are equal, and the pursuit of eternal life is a crime against nature.

Hermione shut the book in disgust. That was useless.

All of these books only said one or two things about Horcruxes and many, many things about the nature of the soul. By this time Hermione reckoned she could be a soul expert.

The only place in the UK whose books I haven't looked at yet is the Department of Mysteries, she thought grumpily. And after the last time I was there I'd be they wouldn't let me back.

But maybe I'll stumble across something. Maybe.

The next morning, as Hermione poured a mug of coffee for herself in the Great Hall, a ratty owl she recognized as belonging to the Owlery spiraled down and landed in the pancakes. Hermione sighed, untied the letter, and fed the bird a piece of bacon.

"You had a two minute flight, don't act like you're all exhausted," she told the owl. "That's all you get since I know the house elves will be putting out food for you in twenty minutes."

The bird hooted at her softly, and then flew away, his flapping wings hurling droplets of maple syrup down on a group of Hufflepuff first years.

Shaking her head, Hermione spelled the syrup off the note, and opened it.

Meeting tonight regarding your impending accident. 9.

Glancing casually over at the Slytherin table, Hermione noticed Malfoy reading a similar note. She nibbled at her lip – finally. Something fun to plan.

The day zipped by faster than Hermione would have liked – she was able to read a few reports in her little room over lunch, but then it was back to Transfiguration and then Herbology and then Charms before suddenly it was dinner. After dinner, however, the time dragged. It made Hermione's skin crawl more than she liked to think about letting herself – deliberately letting herself- be attacked. Taken down. What if Draco wasn't on their side? What if he was going to take advantage of the situation to out Severus as a spy and return to the Dark Lord a hero?

She needed a contingency plan.

Something, anything that would ensure that her death would not result in Severus' death. Something that would hopefully be such a terrible consequence that there was no way she would end up dead in the first place.

So. What did Draco Malfoy care about? What made him tick? He had no lovers, no siblings. His father was in Azkaban. His mother, perhaps, but his mother had seemed cold and distant from what Hermione had heard about her. Who – or what – was important in Draco Malfoy's life?

It worried her that the only thing she could think of was Draco Malfoy. It could be worse. He could not care if he lived or if he died. At least he has a preference.

Something to tie her life to his, perhaps. That was worrying in and of itself – she didn't want her life tied to that of a Death Eater under the thumb of a deranged Dark Lord. One way, then. A one way insurance policy.

Hermione hadn't noticed how hard she was chewing her lip until she tasted the faint, metallic hint of blood. She didn't know how Severus would feel about her intent to threaten his godson, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. There were very few people Severus felt protective of, and she didn't want to discourage any sort of healthy attachment she saw him make.

She could use poison. A piece of jewelry or clothing that had a fast acting poison that would release if she died. It would be complicated, but she could create such a thing. It nagged at her though, that there was nothing that she could think of that really mattered to Draco Malfoy. What was there? There was always something, and maybe if she could get into his mind...

And then it clicked. The only thing that mattered to Draco Malfoy was the health and the safety of Draco Malfoy. Therefore, the only reasonable thing was to promise him something too good to resist. She needed to go after the Dark Mark, because it was with the Dark Mark that the Dark Lord could trace Malfoy wherever he went. It was with the Dark Mark that Lord Voldemort drained Draco's energy and his power. The Malfoys didn't like being on the wrong end of leashes and the Dark Mark was Draco Malfoy's leash.

That was it. Hermione sank back into her chair with a satisfied smile. She needed to figure out exactly how the Dark Mark worked and exactly how to remove it.

She hardly paid attention in class that day, thinking about the situation before her. There was much to be done, much to be researched. For a moment she worried that it would take time away from the research that she needed to do for the Horcrux in Harry's head, but she pushed that fear aside. She had a Time Turner, after all. If she didn't have the time to do something, who did?

Nine o'clock arrived just as Hermione was slipping into Professor Snape's office. Neither Draco nor Snape was there, so Hermione let herself into Severus' quarters. She found them there, as expected, sipping on tea and not talking. Gracefully Hermione walked over to them, sinking into her normal armchair. It wasn't facing the fire as it normally was, but turned around so that she could converse with Draco and Severus. Wordlessly, Severus handed her a cup of tea. She nodded her thanks.

"Now that we are all here," drawled Draco. "What exactly are we here for?' He easily played the part of the bored aristocrat, elegantly sprawled in his chair. Still, Hermione saw the signs that times were not as good as they once had been – his shirt had been tailored to Draco's more robust form of the year before, and he had not bothered – or perhaps, could not afford? – to get a new one of the same quality and the same good fit. His nails were in good condition, but not perfectly manicured as they had been the year before. This year there was the heavy signet ring of the Malfoy family weighing down his right hand, a ring that in all rights belonged to his father. A ring with that much history, with that much responsibility, should not have been on his hand this soon.

Hermione sipped her tea and took all of this in while Severus spoke. "We need to do something to keep you in the Dark Lord's good graces. We need to make a small attack on Hermione that will make the Dark Lord think that you are actually attempting to fulfil the task he has assigned you."

Draco sniffed. "I'm already ahead of you there, Uncle. I have made a discreet purchase or two that will help in that regard."

His book bag was on the floor beside him; with studied nonchalance he reached inside and withdrew two things. The first was a clear box, in which an opal necklace sparkled dangerously. The second was a small dark brown vial with a few drops of an undiscernible liquid.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I saw you looking to buy this necklace. You weren't half as discreet as you thought you were."

Draco appeared to remain calm, but there was a flush of pink at the tips of his ears. "Impossible."

"Borgin and Burkes over the summer," she said, wandlessly and wordlessly summoning the box with the necklace over to here. It hovered before her, allowing her to examine it. Through the glass of the box she saw Draco's eyes narrow at the display of magical control. "And Harry and Ron were with me. You can't use this or they'll immediately connect it back to you. Harry is suspicious enough of you already, Draco." Hermione took her wand and sent a few spells over the necklace. She raised her eyebrows. "This is dangerous."

"That's the point, Granger," drawled Draco.

Hermione gave Severus a long suffering look. "Not if you want me alive to help you get that Mark off of your arm without taking your arm with it."

Both of the men before her straightened at her words. Severus tensed almost imperceptibly, the thin line of his severe mouth warning her to be sure before making any promises. Draco, on the other hand, had a very visible change in form. There was a visible wanting in his face, a desire to be free that made his body tremble with emotion. His breathing came quicker and his hands clutched at the armrests of his chair.

"You can do that?" he demanded, voice sharp and tight. "There isn't a way."

Hermione smiled thinly. "I've been working on it. I have more than one idea of how to remove it, and if you want my help, you need me alive." She settled into her chair, sending the necklace back to the table. "So. Now are you ready to make some real plans?"

There was a tight attention in his face as Draco nodded. "This other one is poison," he said. "My mother helped me find an old woman who knew how to make it. She brewed it, and then we bought it."

"And your mother or one of your uncles promptly returned and killed her, no doubt," Severus said dourly. "Okay. So do you know an antidote?"

Draco shrugged. "Do you?'

"Shove a bezoar down their throat," Severus and Hermione said together. They exchanged a quick glance, Severus questioning and Hermione slightly embarrassed, and then looked at Draco again. The Slytherin was shaking his head.

"I'm never going to get used to the two of you being… similar," he muttered under his breath. "Next you're going to tell me that Weasley the Dark Lord's right hand man."

Severus chuckled. "That would be me, and believe me, I do not intend to give up that position any time soon," he said smoothly. "Give me the poison and I'll figure out an antidote." He held out a hand and twitched his fingers. With a scowl, Draco handed over the bottle. Something about it was forced – a Slytherin would never let himself be backed in to a corner and forced to give up all of his plans and resources. Draco had something else up his sleeve.

"Now we figure out how you slip it to me," Hermione said, chewing on her lip. "Of course, you can't get caught, but your sneakiness needs to get back to the Dark Lord. Which means, of course, that it needs to be done either in front of Severus and/or in front of Slytherins who will carry the news back to their parents who will tell the Dark Lord. Who left in Slytherin has parents who aren't in Azkaban?"

Severus and Draco exchanged looks. "Few people after the fiasco that was last spring," muttered Draco.

Hermione turned her gaze to Severus, watching as he traced his lips with one finger. She swallowed hard, then looked in his eyes. His gaze crystalized incrementally, but his voice was steady when he spoke. "I think the question is, who in Ravenclaw has parents who are Imperioed?"

Hermione sank back in her chair, mind racing. "Oh, that's brilliant," she said. "Severus, when will you teach me all of your tricks? Or are you planning on just surprising me whenever you feel like it for the rest of your life?"

Her lover just scowled in her direction. "I have my secrets and you can pry them from my cold dead hands."

"It's brilliant," she said again. "We need to find one timid enough to not know what to do, so they tell their parent and hope that they will take care of it for them. A Ravenclaw would work best for this – they aren't like Gryffindors who want to save the world, they'll just take it to their parent and wash their hands of it. We just have to make sure Flitwick is out of the castle – that way they don't go to him. Or that it happens right before a break. What would be better, Severus?"

He thought for a moment, his body still as stone. "Let me see how long it takes to brew up an antidote to the poison," he said finally. "But I do think that it would be more dramatic if you missed a bit of school because of it – enough for rumors to spread and your illness to be noticed. The more noticeable, the better for Draco's chance of surviving the Dark Lord's wrath. And if we do it during term the Dark Lord either has to wait until Draco is on break to punish him, or go easy enough on him that his disappearance is not noticed."

Draco looked away, staring into the fire. She saw his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. "How badly will he punish me?"

"Badly," Severus said, without a hint of pity in his voice. "But you'll survive. And if someone else screws up around the same time you do, make sure you're the first to be punished. Volunteer, submit. The Dark Lord likes to start out slow and then get creative as he gets bored."

The group was silent for a long moment, each sitting with their own thoughts. Finally, Draco was the one to break the silence. "So which Ravenclaw do we want to use?"

Severus gestured toward Hermione. "You have someone in mind, I know you do."

"Of course I do," Hermione said. "Marietta Edgecombe. She's already proven that she goes to her mother before Flitwick with problems, she's sharp enough to notice what's going on, she's cowardly enough not to tell her friends, she hates me enough to not try to stop it, and she's stupid enough that you can find some reason to give her detention. Also, her mother's been under the Imperius Curse for months now. She's a Floo Network Regulator for London, she was one of the first waves to go down."

"Don't you know bloody everything," Draco muttered.

"Including that you have another plan you haven't said anything about," Hermione said sweetly. "What is your third option?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Draco sneered. "You don't get all of my secrets, Granger."

Severus held a hand up as Hermione opened her mouth. "You can keep secrets all you like, Draco, as long as you do not harm her."

Raising his pale eyebrows, Draco looked first at Severus, then at Hermione, and back again. "One would almost think you cared about her, Uncle Severus." His voice was distinctly mocking. "You seem awfully concerned that she gets out of this mess in once piece, and I can't say that you care the same for me, the boy you've known since he was born."

As much as Hermione ached to answer, she knew this was something her lover had to do alone. She didn't look at him, but kept her eyes focused on Draco as Severus spoke.

"You have no idea how dangerous my role is, Draco," he said after a moment. "Dumbledore is ill. If the Order succeeds, Hermione Granger is both of our ticket to freedom. Without her, we will be gladly thrown in Azkaban and not a word will be said in our defense."

Solemnly, Hermione nodded. "It's true," she said. "I am Harry Potter's friend, I go about as high as one can go in something as unstructured as the Order, I am working on a way to remove the Dark Mark. Kill me if you please, but know that you are hurting yourself and your godfather as you do so."

Draco scowled at them for a long moment. "It's not finalized. I'll tell you when I have something concrete."

"I'll take that for now," Severus said. "But back to the problem at hand. Should I put you all in detention?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "If it comes to that. I do have a record to maintain, Severus."

"Now that sounds like the insufferable Granger I know," Draco muttered under his breath. "There are more important things than discipline records, Granger."

She directed a glare his way. "And according to the rest of the school I'm a hopeless swot and if I get a detention it looks suspicious."

"But when are all three of you in the same space?" snapped Severus. "She's a year ahead, you're all three in different houses, and it's not like Draco can dip into the girl's room with you."

Hermione sighed. "So either the Great Hall or the corridors or the library. What exactly does this poison do and how does it work?"

"Library would be best," Draco said. "She's a Ravenclaw, she's serious about studying and she does it alone. Now the poison needs to be ingested – do you have drinks with you in the library, Granger?"

Severus shook his head. "She chews her quills, use that. Dip her quills in the poison while Edgecombe is watching. What did the old witch say the potion did?"

Draco shrugged, and then directed a scowl at Severus. "I didn't exactly ask, did I? As long as it kills, it was good."

"Then I'll be poisoning some Nifflers, then," Severus said, a note of disgust in his voice. "We'll finish this planning when I actually know what will happen then. I'll plan on being in the library to put a Confundus Charm on Miss Edgecombe."

There was a silence. "You are dismissed, Draco," Severus said after a moment. "Report to my office next Monday evening. We can talk then."

Gracefully Draco stood and swept his upper body down in a mocking bow. "Goodnight, Uncle." Without a word to Hermione, he left his godfather's chambers. When his footsteps were no more, Severus sighed and pointed his wand at the seat where Draco had been sitting. A soft blue light revealed two spots of red, which Severus swiftly charmed away. He pointed his wand at other parts of the room, presumably at other places the boy had touched, and removed one more listening spell.

"He doesn't think he can outsmart you, does he?" asked Hermione wryly.

Severus stood, stretching. "It's part of the game," he said offhandedly. "If he hadn't planted any listening spells I might have even been insulted."

Following his lead, Hermione gave a feline stretch and open mouthed yawn as she rose. "Slytherins. I'll never quite understand your lot, Severus."

Her lover approached her, a rare smile on his face. "We've found something that Hermione Granger cannot understand! Send for the Prophet."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Hardy-har-har," she said, affecting grumpiness. "There has to be something you don't understand."

The expression on his face turned tender. Slowly, he stretched out a hand and tucked a curl behind her ear. "How a woman like you can love a miserable sod like me."

His hand was warm as it lingered on the side of her face. Hermione reached up and took it, turning it over so she could kiss his palm. "With all my heart, Severus."

His other arm came behind her, pressing her body to his. Willingly Hermione stretched up and wound her arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly as he ducked his head to hers. They kissed languidly, enjoying the feeling of lips pressed against lips and tongue moving against tongue, of heartbeats echoing through chests, of soft, easy breathing.

When at last she pulled away, Severus looked down at her and spoke. "I have to meet with the Dark Lord tonight. Will you come and see me tomorrow?"

Hermione stretched up and kissed his collarbone. "Of course, Severus. Just let me know when."

And so ends Chapter 55.

The next update will probably not be for a while. I'm taking a lot of very serious classes this semester, and have upwards of 600 pages of reading a week to get through, and it's mostly the dull dry stuff you have to read three times before it make sense. Ugh. I've only been back for two weeks and already I'm way too stressed.

As for other parts of my life... it's good. Really good. My girlfriend and I just passed month 8, we are living together in a very nice university apartment (dishwasher! free laundry! our own washer and dryer in the apartment! air conditioning! granite countertops!) and it's so wonderfully domestic and cute and I am so in love. I never thought that I could be this happy with another person. We have now come out to most of our friends, we have a lot of support from them, and life is good. My mom isn't thrilled I'm dating a girl, but the rest of my family is supportive.

I don't yet have an excerpt because... the next chapter is not yet written. Whoops. But I'm on it! Kind of! I'll try. Like I said, it might be a while.

ALSO - there is awesome new fanart. I'll be posting the link on my author's page soon, and it is buried on my tumblr where I reblogged it. Speaking of fan art - does anyone want to design a new cover for FTOH? I love the one I have now, but if anyone is itching to draw or design something, I'd love to see what you come up with!

Please review! And when you are waiting for another chapter, feel free to check out one of my other stories!