Severus starts narrowing down the possibilities of whom the killer might be. Hermione overhears something that opens her eyes and discovers something about someone she thought she could trust. And Lucius' plans to keep Hermione in control backfires, and things between Hermione and Severus grow stronger, even if one of them is still resisting the changes.
Murder, Magic, Mayhem, and Madness
This is a murder mystery—but no one dies in this chapter. But you do get closer…
December
Severus stormed down to the library to get the Auror there. All the way, he was berating himself for allowing Hermione to slither her way through his walls. She isn't mine. She isn't going to be mine. She's chosen Lucius and is engaged. Even if she doesn't act like a recently betrothed… It hit him. She doesn't act like a woman in love with her fiancé. When she's with me, she doesn't push me away, she encourages me. In fact, she keeps admitting that she loves me. The image of Hermione smiling at Lucius, letting him fawn over her was enough to make him sneer. But she acts like she did in the hospital. She looks for any reason to come to my office, watches me all the time, stares at me in the Great Hall. Minerva said that Hermione had asked four times, and then demanded to be allowed to see me.
When he entered the library there was a magical barrier blocking his admittance. Aurors Dorsey and Doering hurried over to let him in. "Good to see you up and about. We were just about to send you some news."
"What kind of news? What happened?" Severus asked as he followed the Aurors to the back of the library.
"A student fell off one of the library ladders. He landed on his head and broke his neck. Madam Pomfrey is with him right now," Mr. Dorsey explained. "But there are signs of a fight." Mr. Rolfe looked up as Severus approached.
"Headmaster!" Madam Pince snapped, hurrying over as soon as she saw him. "I will not allow cats in my library. They did this! They caused this! Their startled him and he fell! They shouldn't even have been in here at all, and they—"
"Them cats is what we're talking about." Mr. Doering scowled at the librarian. "We have a black and white cat and a spotted cat, kinda like a leopard. They were taken to Professor McGonagall's office for questioning."
"Their fur! It gets everywhere! I must insist that you do something to make them stay out of my library!"
Severus turned back to face the Auror, holding up a hand to stave off the librarian. "Explain."
"We have a mess back here," Mr. Dorsey said, leading Severus to the scene. "Books knocked off the shelves, patches of fur. A real cat fight, only we think some of the fur is from a ferret. There is only one student with a pet ferret in this school, and he is in Slytherin. Aurors Aurelion Hornover and Palti Edelstein are on their way to Slughorn's office to talk to this boy and see his pet."
The scene was just as described. The boy was lying on an awkward position on the floor; Madam Pomfrey and Mr. Anderson were repositioning his legs and arms. Books and pages of books were scattered all around, and it appeared as if several had come from the bookshelf above. Miss Bampford was taking pictures while Mr. Rolfe carefully examined the debris. There were clumps of fur, some splotches of blood, and bloody footprints of the cats and ferret among the mess on the floor.
From where he was standing Severus didn't have a clear view of the boy's face. "Who is the boy?" he asked, hoping he was wrong in his own assumption.
Mr. Dorsey touched Severus' arm so he'd back up to allow Madam Pomfrey, and the Aurors pass with the boy. "Joaquin Schmitt, he's a Muggle-born from Hufflepuff."
"Another victim of the Muggle-born killer," Miss Bampford stated as she turned the crank on her camera.
"That is yet to be proven," Severus snapped at her.
"Actually it is," Mr. Anderson said from behind. Severus turned around. "We found this page in the mess. It must have been left by the killer." Severus read the note as the Auror continued, "It looks like the boy was hit with the Avada Kedavra. If that is the case, whoever did this is becoming more adept at using it. Although, it wasn't the spell that killed him, but the way he landed. But the spell had more zing to it than with the Wellington girl. We think it was a surprise hit at the boy's back, because there are no signs of a fight, and the boy's wand in still in his pocket. We asked around, but no one heard anything except the sound of the fall and the cat fight."
Severus didn't answer. The words on the parchment spoke volumes. The student doing this was the son or daughter of a Death Eater.
A father snake and his son went out for an afternoon slither.
Left home to serve in black robes and mask all a dither.
Faced their inferiors on the field, bold ready and sure
Fell by the wand, cursed into beyond, never again to come hither.
Severus finally looked up to acknowledge the Auror. "Hermione Granger was a recent victim as well, only she survived both of her attacks." He told the Aurors everything he knew about Hermione's incidents with the copperhead skin and then the balloon.
"Geeze, man, you just got off your sickbed, and you know more about her attacks than we do," Mr. Dorsey exclaimed. "Bubotuber power in murky water in a balloon… And the snakeskin. Are you certain the snakeskin was a copperhead?"
"Yes, I've used them in potions. It's unmistakable. Miss Granger came to tell me what happened. I've questioned her thoroughly," Severus stated, his gut clenching in fear. Another Muggle-born is dead, and there are only two more on the list. I'll be damned if they are getting Hermione. "I would appreciate it if you will meet me in Professor McGonagall's office when you are done here."
Mr. Anderson stepped back away from the scene. "My coworkers can finish up here. I'm interested to find out what the cats said." He shook his head and laughed at himself. "I cannot believe I just said that."
Severus had poured over the files of all the students who he knew were sons or daughters of Death Eaters. The third-year boy with the pet ferret had brought his pet with him when he'd been called. He had been cautious, and his answers had been reserved and brief. He hadn't been cagy, but he had been suspicious. It wasn't until Severus had stated that he was too young to be a suspect than the boy had relaxed. Still, he hadn't been able to add any information regarding who was committing the killings. His ferret was in perfect health, and the shiny coat was unmarred. Severus had dismissed the boy and had asked him to send Charlotte Travers next. Miss Travers had entered the office in the same cautious manner that the others had, but that meeting had nearly blown to pieces when the girl had realized she was being questioned regarding the attacks.
"This is because of my father, isn't it? Bugger. I knew it! Damn him! Sorry, sir. It's just that my father—well, it's because of him our family is in shambles—and not just because of his first bit with the Dark Lord but because of his trial too. Both of them!" She clenched her hands in fists as she turned and paced across the room like a caged graphorn. "I had no friggin' idea my father was—well, not until five years ago—I mean, damn, how could he! He went out to torture and kill Muggles and Muggle-borns and then came home to play daddy! The bastard! Did you know he'd read to me still reeking of smoke! I could still smell it in his clothes, see the scorch marks! I hated it! I absolutely bloody hated it and hated him for doing it!"
"Miss Travers," Severus said, trying to get the girl's attention. His fingers were laced together with his elbows on the desk in his old office.
The girl paced, undaunted, wrapped up in her ranting. "No! No, you're not—No! It's not fair of you or anyone—how could they just assume! They always assume! Sure blame us, like we had a part in it—it was him! HIM! My Mum would cry every time he was gone. She knew. She knew what he did. She cried at night. She'd get up and sneak down to her garden and cry. I heard her! If I went down to comfort her, she would wipe her eyes and tell me it was a bad dream. It wasn't—it was my father! He made her cry. My uncle kept telling me to be careful around my dad, to keep my opinions to myself. So I did. But you saw him—what he looked like—he was a monster! Demented. His face! Those red eyes! I had nightmares for weeks each time I saw him, and Uncle Richard told me to keep my fears to myself."
"Miss Travers," Severus said louder, hoping to gain her attention. "Am I to assume you didn't follow your father's ideology?"
"He would bow before him, kneel and grovel… I saw him do it!" she exclaimed with her hand held up, fingers extended, and then dropped her hands in fists by her sides and continued to pace. "Called him my Lord and everything. Did whatever he wanted my dad to do no questions asked!" She stopped and faced Severus, glaring at him. "Did you know that I have a sister? A half-sister actually, but a sister?!" Her hands flew up in the air in agitation. "My father and all his ideology, all his pureblood rhetoric, and I have a half-sister! From a Muggle-born!" She started to pace again. "The god-damned bloody nogtail! I suppose it's all right to say one thing and do just do as you please. What does it matter, right? The woman was lower than mud, right? So what does it matter that he had sex with her and got her pregnant! It's not like it counts. Do as I say but not as I do? Troll shite! To spout that pureblood mantra-dragon-crap and yet name the child he had with her after my grandmother?"
"Are you talking about Micheline Brigstock," Severus asked calmly.
Charlotte stopped and faced him, astounded. "YOU KNEW?! You knew about her and—and… NO ONE EVER TOLD ME!"
"Miss Travers, calm yourself!"Severus snapped at her, irritably. "I've only just found out myself—from you. Miss Perrimont told me that you had befriended the girl. I was simply making an assumption."
Charlotte threw her hands up as she made another pass of his old desk. "She looks just like me but blond! She has my father's eyes and his smile—we're sisters! She knew it! She knew that she had a father who had another family—she knew about me!"
"Sit down," he snapped forcefully, and Charlotte stopped her pacing to stare at him.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she squared her shoulders, held her chin up and sat down gracefully.
"Now, answer my question. Do you know who is responsible for these attacks?"
"No, sir, I don't," she said, looking him in the eye.
He believed her. In the last twenty minutes talking with the girl about her beliefs, he learned one thing—being at Hogwarts had made her open her eyes, changing the girl's mind from what Thaddeus Travers had tried to instill in his daughter. Seeing half-bloods and Muggle-borns excel and exceed in class time and time again, made Miss Travers reevaluate her father's preaching. And the girl's mother and uncle hadn't been loyal followers but both had been trapped in the role of devotee. They hadn't believed in what the Dark Lord was doing, but were constrained, begrudgingly bound to him. They had gone along out of fear of Thaddeus and what he might have done to them—his own family. Not that Severus hadn't seen it before. "Your handwriting is similar to the writing of the riddles."
"I use a magical Calligraphy Quill when I'm writing my essays." Her eyes narrowed. "There're new. They write what you want them to in perfect script. I am not in the habit of writing riddles—let alone leaving them around the school."
Severus took a gamble. "Then explain this." He showed her the lyrics to the song, One Tin Soldier, and her eyes lit up.
"That's Micheline's! She loves that song!"
"Explain," he said smoothly in a manner which usually made his students calmly comply. It worked.
Charlotte's shoulders relaxed and she worried her thumb. "She sings this song… Her mum used to sing it to her. I asked her to write down the lyrics for me. May I have this back?"
Severus looked at the lyrics again. When Micheline Brigstock came into the office, she had recognized the song and the writing, blushing when she said that she'd written it down for her sister with a Calligraphy Quill from the Hogsmeade Quill Shop. She had admitted that her mum had told her about her father, and that she'd suspected that he was a Death Eater. When she'd been sorted into Slytherin, her mum had confessed and confided to her the identity of her father and warned her to be careful. When Miss Brigstock saw Charlotte for the first time, she'd wondered, and after meeting her she knew they were sisters. After a rough night, and many accusations, the girls formed a bond. Miss Travers and her friends defended Miss Brigstock and her friends from the others who might have harmed them. Now the two girls were thick as thieves.
Severus had asked her about the deviations to the lyrics and the girl had shaken her head, looking quite confused by the rendition Severus had shown her. "This isn't mine," Brigstock said, her eyes wide. "I mean, I wrote out the whole song for Charlotte! Well, I didn't repeat the chorus at the end, I only wrote it once—but she wanted to know the whole song, so I wrote it all out for her and taught her the melody."
Severus had believed the girl, but he kept scrap of parchment with the lyrics with the other clues.
Severus looked at the other files. He'd spoken to each student. None of them knew who was responsible. Most were affronted or annoyed that just because they were in Slytherin they were automatically a suspect. It is the long time honored tradition of house rivalry—Slytherin against the others, and that all Slytherins were either evil or bad. He picked up the stack of the student files from the other houses, the ones with known Death Eater parents. If only people realized that the Dark Lord cared nothing for house associations. He cared about blood, money, power, and what you could do for him or give him.
The stack of students' charts as possibly suspects from the other houses, including the ones he knew had a Death Eater parent, was actually taller than the stack he'd made of the Slytherins' files.
~oo0oo~
There was a buzz in the Great Hall at every meal. It was widely known that the Headmaster had been questioning the Slytherin students over the weekend and several of the seventh-years in Ravenclaw. The Slytherins were rather subdued, avoiding the other students; some scowling or giving warning looks when someone tried to talk to them. The Ravenclaws were outraged that they were suspect and that neither the Gryffindors nor Hufflepuffs had been questioned.
When Hermione looked over at the Slytherins table, looking for the prefects, she noticed that Wellsmiter was glaring at everyone and keeping his wand out, ready. Richard Darthenridge had been curt with Hermione when she'd approached him to ask if he'd cover one or two of Justin's rounds to give Justin more time to grieve for his friend. Miss Blackwelder and Rechelle Collins had insinuated that the only reason she was assigning Daarthenridge the rounds was to keep tabs on him, but Hermione defensively insisted that she wasn't, that she'd asked him because he'd done it with her before, and she needed the shift covered. Richard had watched her, scrutinizing her carefully, but he'd consented, his manner relaxing after hearing her explanation.
Devon Turckwell then offered to add another night to help, and Hermione sincerely thanked him. She was unconcerned by the looks she got as she walked back to her table in the Great Hall. Several people had been watching her and looked away quickly when they realized that Hermione noticed. She looked up at the staff table and realized that several of the professors had been watching her as well. Hermione's gaze locked with Severus' as she sat down, and she nodded to him before filling her plate.
Since their kiss behind the gargoyle, she hadn't been alone with him again. Professor Vector was in his office when she'd given her last Head Girl report. When he had stopped her in the corridor the afternoon after she'd shown him her get-well card, there had been an Auror with him. He'd told her that the card had come by owl and that he was keeping it. She'd asked if the writing was the same, and he'd scowled at her, telling her that he'd get to the bottom of this, and she wasn't to ferret things out on her own as she'd done in the past. She'd promised to keep her eyes open, and he had admonished her to watch her back and not roam the corridors alone, even during the day.
The Sneakoscope on her bracelet began to vibrate again, making a soft whirling sound. Hermione looked up, wondering why. She knew that someone was watching her, and had the same eerie sensation she'd felt before. She shrugged it off. I'm in the middle of the Great Hall. Surely I'm safe enough. Besides, Severus is here.
Remembering his protective tone, Hermione looked up at Severus and saw him watching her. He looked tired, the concern evident to her even from this distance. Several strands of his hair had come free of his tie and hung down, framing his face. She smiled remembering how his hair used to hang down, concealing him from the world with only his nose showing when he was reading, writing, or eating. Severus' eyes narrowed in reaction to her smile, and her smile widened. He turned his head to gaze at the Ravenclaw table but she knew somehow that he was still watching her as well. Amanda asked Hermione a question, distracting her, and she turned to her friends. She would go see him after dinner to tell him about the shift changes.
Severus watched Hermione with veiled interest. This was the second time she'd walked over to the Slytherin table to talk to the seventh-year prefect. The reactions of his Slytherins clearly said that whatever it was she had to say surprised them, and although at first it had raised suspicions, whatever she wanted was accepted. Without knowing it, the Head Girl was demonstrating a trust in the Slytherin prefects, something that he was glad to see. He watched her walk to her table and caught her gaze as she sat down. She was doing well enough, all considered. Her schoolwork hadn't suffered much from the goings on in the castle, and she was sleeping and eating well enough. Actually, if he didn't know her so well, he'd think she was unaffected. But he knew better. She was using schoolwork, prefect duties, and revision to keep her mind occupied, even adding in extra reading to occupy her mind. There was a weariness to her carriage that told him she was staying up late and waking early.
He saw her smile widen as he'd been contemplating her and for a moment he wondered what she was thinking. He turned his head slightly to gaze at the Ravenclaws, never really letting Hermione out of his sight. The tactic worked, she turned her attention to her friends. He continued to watch her as she ate. She wasn't eating a lot at meals, noting that her selections of food were nutritious ones, avoiding the sweets and fried foods.
A movement at the Ravenclaw table caught his attention. A seventh-year girl had turned to look at him when Hermione had diverted her attention to her friends. Her expression had changed from anger to merely disapproving, then had been schooled a semblance of indifference. Severus smirked, he knew the game of masking one's feelings, and she was an amateur at it. He watched her for a while and noticed that she was watching someone. Severus tried to follow the girl's line of vision and realized she was looking in Hermione's direction. Hermione looked up and caught him looking at her. He averted his eyes, still watching her as he leaned over to Minerva to ask her if she had any staff requests to forward to him.
"No, no one has requested anything since start of term. Why?" Minerva asked, surprised by the question.
Severus noticed that the brown-haired girl was glaring at Hermione again. "No reason, just wanted to make sure there wasn't any supply concerns." Hermione looked up, looking around as if she knew she was being watched, an action he'd noticed her doing several times during meals these past months.
"No, I'd have brought them to you," Minerva said as Severus watched the Ravenclaw girl slyly, still keeping an eye on Hermione. Hermione was aware she was being stared at but not by whom, and the Ravenclaw girl ducked or turned her head each time Hermione looked up.
He nodded and straightened in his chair. He wondered if there was some dissension between the Ravenclaw and Hermione he didn't know about. He decided it warranted investigation.
Richard Darthenridge had watched Hermione walk toward his table, suspicious of her intent. He was equally suspicious when she asked him to take over Mr. Finch-Fletchley's shift, until she mentioned that he'd be partnered with her. He had watched her walk away to join her friends with mild interest. As a girl, she was acceptable; as a Head Girl she was efficient. But this was the second time she'd crossed the Great Hall to speak to him.
When Hermione's head disappeared as she sat down, he turned to his previous Head of House to see his reaction and was surprised to see the Headmaster staring covertly at the girl in question, Miss Granger. The look was guarded, but readable. He was contemplating her, but in a manner that read interest, if he wasn't mistaken.
Richard angled to his left to see Miss Granger and saw her smile at the Headmaster. Interesting. So the rumors might have some merit after all. The girl is infatuated with the Headmaster, and he did have feelings for her. I suppose it's no surprise. I had been told that he preferred dirty blood. His first love was a Muggle-born as well. Potter's mother in fact. Ever since the final battle and Potter's grand announcement, Snape had been a topic of discussion in his home. Well, far more than he'd been before. My parents had been outraged by his double agent spying and that he'd gotten away with everything. He was even honored for it, and mum called him the traitor, deceiver, and a counterfeit. He watched the Headmaster scan the Hall and knew that the Headmaster was still watching the Head Girl.
Richard's parents had been sent to Azkaban for supporting the Dark Lord. His mum had taken ill only three weeks after her arrest and had been taken to St. Mungo's. She was in a restricted ward, under guard, until she could be returned. Ten years! My parents have to serve ten years for siding with the Dark Lord, and Snape is awarded an Order of Merlin. Oh yeah, life's fair.
Only because he'd been in the castle at the time of the battle did Richard escape percussion. Truth was he had been looking for his kid sister who'd hidden in the dungeons in fear, along with other first-years who'd been to afraid to leave. There had been nowhere for them to go anyway, and they knew that their parents had been fighting in the battle above.
Rechelle turned in her seat. "I overheard Llewellyn tell Magnphelia that the Mudblood is trying to be Head of the Heads, the bossy slag. Who elected that Mudblood lead of the Head Boys and Girls anyway? Nosy wench."
Richard looked at Rechelle and gave her that smirk that she liked so much. "Careful calling anyone that. She's efficient and no one else minded. Actually, she is really fair about rotations and scheduling shifts."
"You like her," Rechelle said with a scowl.
Richard laughed. "I like you better. Coming by my room later?"
He felt her toe slide on his leg as she shook her head. "I have revision to do, unless you want to help me revise for Charms."
"Oh, I can do that," he replied, picking up his drink as her foot slid up between his legs.
~oo0oo~
Hermione stood aside as Richard Darthenridge checked in the Arithmancy classroom and closed the door. "Empty. Next."
"The Prefect's bath next and then we head to the west side to check the battlements," Hermione stated, making small checks on her parchment as they walked.
"Nervous?" he asked, watching her intently as if gauging her reaction.
Hermione shook her head. "No."
He cocked his eyebrow and scoffed at her.
"Okay, I haven't been back except to do rounds, but I prefer showers."
A girl in an alcove ahead of them, hidden from view, laughed softly. "I don't know why you think you have to see me to my room, it's not like I'm mud you know."
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, stunned.
"It's the rules, and besides, I like listening to you solve your riddles to get in," the soft drawling male voice replied.
"Katrina was right, you know, the ones that have to be protected are the Mudbloods," the female voice said softly. "Not us purebloods."
"Careful love, the walls have ears," the male voice replied. His voice was familiar to Hermione but she couldn't place it.
"C'mon," Hermione urged Darthenridge to follow her down the corridor to warn the two hidden in the alcove to return to their common rooms and deduct house points for being out after curfew.
Darthenridge tried to hold her up. "It's nothing. Let's go check the battements."
The boy's voice carried down the corridor, making Hermione jerk her arm free of Darthenridge's grasp. "You know that the social ethics have changed, and we now have to accept the filth. Best learn to deal with it—they won."
Hermione was incensed by the guy's cavalier attitude and really wanted to deduct points for their comments if nothing else. She stormed forward, and stopped level with the pair, surprised by who she saw.
Magnphelia Hageneder and Mr. Foughtery were standing in the alcove, she leaning against one side of the stone arch and he on the other. They both turned to look at her as Hermione approached but didn't move or seemed concerned at all at about being overheard. "What are you doing out here? You aren't on duty. You should go back to your common rooms," Hermione said, surprised that they simply scowled at her.
Foughtery nodded to Darthenridge and narrowed his eyes at her. "As captain of my house team, I have the same curfew as you do. If I wanted to speak to my prefect girlfriend before she went to her common room, it's allowed, isn't it?"
Hermione was taken aback. He'd been so nice to her before, and his attitude unnerved her. "Yes, it's allowed, but…"
"Hermione, the battlements," Darthenridge said firmly, pulling on her arm again. "Now. James, see you in the common room."
James nodded and turned to look at Hermione with a smirk. Hagender smirked at her smugly and wiggled her fingers at her.
Hermione was tugged away, still reeling from the shock of Hagender's attitude toward Muggle-borns. "She's always been so polite to me before," she muttered as they neared the stairs to go up to the west battlements.
"She's smart, and from a pureblood family," Darthenridge said as if that explained everything.
"But," Hermione gasped.
Darthenridge stopped and stared at her. "What? You think that just because the war is over, our opinions are going to change overnight?"
"You knew who they were—you tried to stop me. Why? Wait, our opinions? As in our? You too? You are one of them? But I thought… Why…?"
He smirked at her. "Why did I help you? Why do you think? I'm not a bad guy; I just have certain beliefs. Why do I show you respect when we patrol together? I thought you were smart." He paused, still watching her intently. "I'm Slytherin. Aren't all Slytherins bad, evil and devious, Granger?" She shook her head and he laughed. "My parents are incarcerated because they joined the wrong side—the losing side. I'm pureblood and proud of it. But as James said, your side won, and what was once has changed, and we have to come to terms with it and accept it."
She backed up a step suddenly unsure about him.
"I'm not the killer so don't look at me like that!" he snarled. "Just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't mean I'm evil or a deviate. I'm not a killer."
"Do you know who is?" Hermione asked. He's right. If he was the killer, I've personally given him ample opportunity to do away with me.
He shrugged. "I could name a dozen possibilities, and I've been asking around. No, I don't know for sure. Snape came to me earlier and asked. I told him the same thing. There are plenty who are unhappy with the way things went, and some of us have parents in Azkaban or in St. Mungo's under arrest. But I don't know who it is. It isn't any of the seventh-year Slytherins. I am fairly sure it isn't any of the sixth-years either, although each time a new piece of evidence shows up or another Mu-ggle-born is killed, we are the first questioned. I hate being under scrutiny all the time."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't think it was you. It's just hearing what they said, and then you said…"
"Drop it," he said with a frown.
Hermione shook her head. "Not all Slytherins are bad. Not all Slytherins are evil—I know this. Several Ministers of Magic and Department Heads in the Ministry were Slytherin." He narrowed his eyes, and she smiled, trying to ease the tension. "I read up on everything I could about the Ministry fifth year, contemplating what I want to do after school. Several noted Healers were Slytherin too, many good business wizards… ambition. I think it's because Slytherins are ambitious, smart, and driven to succeed at whatever they do."
He seemed to relax. "You are an odd girl."
"I'm in love with a Slytherin," she admitted and couldn't read his expression to know if he believed her or not. "He's strong, stoic, and brave. He's facing these changes and trying to make a difference. I see how others see him, and they don't understand him, but I do."
He nodded as if he understood, almost as if he already knew whom she was speaking about. "Let's finish the rounds. I don't want to take all night."
Severus waited in the shadows as Mr. Darthenridge escorted Hermione up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He had been walking across the west battlements when he'd seen her. Severus had withdrawn into the shadows, Disillusioned and a Silencing Charm in place to conceal himself, because he hadn't wanted her to know that he still followed her on her rounds. He'd been annoyed in the fact that tonight the pair had obviously taken a different route than she normally did with Mr. Finch-Fletchley. He'd been relieved that Mr. Darthenridge had kept his word, and that Hermione had on first glance seemed all right, but as soon as they drew near Severus could tell Hermione had been upset by something. He wanted to know what had happened.
Mr. Darthenridge stopped next to where Severus waited just off the landing of the stairs. "Headmaster."
Severus ended the cloaking spells and nodded in greeting. "So?"
"She overheard Mags and James in the corridor," Darthenridge stated.
Severus indicated for him to continue with his hand and fell into step with the young man. "And what was said to upset her?"
"Opinions don't change as frequently as Ministers do," Dathenridge said with a curt edge to his tone. He turned his head to look at Severus. "We are trying. Eighteen years of ideology doesn't just reverse overnight. I admit that there are some, like her, who are acceptable, but the animosity and distrust from the aftermath is getting pretty hard to take."
Severus smiled at the young man. "You are right on both accounts. But it is the way of things now." He allowed Mr. Darthenridge to descend the stairs ahead of him, waiting until they reached the bottom to continue. "And that which we talked about?"
The young man shook his head. "Nothing new. The ink is popular because it's pretty and it's expensive." He stopped walking and turned to face Severus. "Several of the girls are using the new quill because it's trendy to do so. I am keeping track of who is out late or who rises early. Yes, there is dissension and talk, but I believe it's all talk, and the prefects are giving warnings. We are trying. I still don't think that whoever is doing this is from Slytherin."
"Thank you. Keep your ears open. Good night," Severus said with a polite nod of his head.
"I will. Good night, Headmaster."
~oo0oo~
Another bouquet of flowers and a box of Daskalidés' chocolates arrived just as Hermione was getting ready for bed. This time Hermione simply set the flowers on the windowsill between Demelza and Margery, much to their delight, even though the huge bouquet blocked a third of their window. The box of chocolates that came with the flowers were passed around, and each girl swooned over the rich creamy taste, eating a second and third each.
The next morning when Hermione woke up, each of her dorm mates were behaving quite oddly. Demelza looked at Hermione and turned her back, then hurried from the room. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought that Demelza was crying. Margery was groaning, holding her pillow over her face and muttering something about dirty old men. Amanda and Ginny pounced on Hermione's bed the moment she sat up to read.
"Okay, that was really weird," Ginny said. "And when I mean weird—I don't mean it in a good way."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, dropping her book on her lap.
"Okay, but you're not going to like this—I don't like this—it was kinda creepy," Ginny said, apparently completely unable to voice what she wanted to say. She took a deep breath and looked Hermione in the eye. "Amanda and I, well, I had this dream about your fiancé." Ginny glanced quickly at Amanda before she turned back to Hermione as if needing assurance. "She told me this morning, well last night when we both woke up, she had the same dream. We talked about it. It was really weird, like we were both under the same love potion or something."
"Yes, like I was… you know… creepy, but exactly like being under the influence of a love potion," Amanda stated finally, blushing a deep red. "Hermione, this is really wrong. I'm sorry. He's your—I don't like him that way at all, really, I don't!"
"What?" Hermione couldn't figure out what they were on about. "What love potion are you talking about?"
"Like… I had a dream that I was makinglovetoyourfiancé," Amanda blurted out.
"You didn't!" Margery said, jumping off her bed and running over. "You too? Was it, you know, rather, er, like he was… here—right here?" She gasped when Amanda nodded. "Me too! Oh my gods! It was really creepy—I mean, I'm not infatuated by him or anything and he's—gods, I feel like such a slag!"
Hermione felt gobsmacked. "Wait, you—all of you had—and with Lucius?" Hermione gasped and covered her mouth. She knew that Ginny didn't even like Lucius that way at all, none of her friends did.
"I know!" Ginny said. "I mean, he's been nice to me the last two times I've seen him, but I don't harbor any romantic feelings for him or anything—it's just—wrong. I have no idea why… unless… of course! I think Lucius Malfoy slipped us a love potion!"
"The chocolates! From last night?" Hermione asked. Amanda and Ginny both nodded, Amanda and Margery turned bright red. "I know that I have very livid dreams and fantasies of Lucius making love to me in my sleep, but you're saying that you… you three… How vivid—I don't mean I want details, but did it seem real or dreamlike?"
"Vivid," Amanda admitted as Margery said, "Really vivid, like he was really in my bed!"
"It was too vivid to be…" Amanda said and paused. "It was too real. It wasn't like a dream, it was physical. I woke up having an orgasm, a real orgasm."
"Do you think that Demelza…?" Hermione asked, and Ginny shrugged.
But Margery nodded, looking grim. "I think so. It's how she was acting… Look, I'm not supposed to say anything, but I think it was to… similar to something that happened to her once. She was crying this morning."
Hermione felt terrible. "Should I say anything? Apologize to her?"
Margery shook her head. "No, I will. We're close. It will be better if I do it. I know you didn't mean it or anything."
"I had no idea!" Hermione exclaimed. She was furious at Lucius for drugging her with a love potion, but she felt horrible for her friends that she'd inadvertently drugged them too. "I just thought the dreams were fantasies about my fiancé. But he must have put something in the chocolates! I'll flay him when I see him next!"
"That won't be until Christmas," Ginny pointed out.
Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. "When we get married."
Ginny nodded. "Yep. Da da d-da, da da d-da!"
"That's not funny!" Hermione snapped, suddenly really perturbed at Lucius. I'll send him a letter, and he'd better have a good explanation for what he did!
December continues ~
~~oooo0oooo~~
Author's notes:
I know in book six, Slughorn tells Harry that when he was head of Slytherin, the whole school didn't side against them and assume they were all evil. However, that apparently wasn't the case for Severus (in this story) when he took over as Potions professor and Head of Slytherin house, but that might be because of the time frame of the Voldemort's first defeat and the arrest of all the Death Eaters in the aftermath of his 'fall'. Besides, Ron says that 'there wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin,' so apparently he'd been raised hearing that dribble, and Sirius nearly repeats the same thing, later on.
Many thanks to my betas, Pookah and MadBrilliant, for helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know. I'd be ashamed to show my story to anyone without your invaluable help. And to era1960 for being there when I needed to bounce ideas and have a second opinion, thank you all for being a friend.
