A/N: Hey everyone, I've managed to get chapter eleven up at long last. To
those of you who dislike spiders (as a few of you have mentioned in your
reviews) I'm going to apologise now for what's coming. As for those who
are like me, and absolutely love the creepy buggers, enjoy!
Auror's meetings take place in very secretive rooms. Kept in special locations, no two rooms are ever used twice in a row, and the entire area is a blocked off with an anti-magic shielding spell. That way, should anyone get it into their heads that they want to attack the aurors while they're all together, they'll have to do it without magic. And it's simple principle that no follower of the Dark Lord would ever pick up a machine gun, lest they taint their pureblood hands with muggle tools.
Because of the no-magic shielding, aurors may only reach the room via a special floo network, as apparition is out of the question. And that floo is very carefully watched to ensure that *only* aurors get through. So it was that when a very terrified-looking Draco Malfoy plunged through the opening, a cry on his lips, that about twenty aurors were on their feet and looking for a fight. Which wasn't exactly what the got.
Demitrius had clung onto Malfoy's shoe, disgusting as it was, for the entire ride up the floo. He hadn't desired to be blown away into an entirely foreign network. When he first left the dungeon/basement room, he hadn't thought much past getting out of Malfoy's house. Until he realised that he would be just as lost outside the Manor as he was inside, having seen so little of the world beyond Hogwarts, and very nearly lost his cool at the thought. Until he overheard the man's conversation with his wife. What better help for a kidnapped student than a room full of aurors?
So it was that Demi found himself latched firmly onto one of his most hated enemies' feet, trying desperately to resist the urge to sink his fangs into the man's soft ankle. Marcus' voice kept resounding in his head every time he came close. And then, all too soon, the option was lost as Malfoy tumbled through the grate with a shout. As he did so, his leg kicked out, and Demi finally lost his grip.
Spiders aren't meant to fly. Probably one of the reasons Demitrius despised Quidditch so much, was that he was not designed for high-speed air travel. So it was that he felt himself fill with dread, both the spider parts of his mind and the human, as he was launched rather recklessly into the air. Instinct screamed 'Dead, we're dead, this is it!!' at him, until suddenly, he landed on something soft. Soft and red. Demi paused for a minute in surprise. Who would have thought the aurors would keep a red carpet in one of their meeting rooms? But, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this wasn't a carpet he'd landed on. "Ron!" He heard a familiar voice shout, and then it hit him, all rather suddenly, as the 'thing' he'd landed on began to shake quite violently.
Demi braced himself. And with good reason, too, because in another few seconds he felt something very hard whack him from his place on Weasley's head. There was the sound of shouting in the air. And then, well, air. Lots of it. Demitrius watched in terror as his spider form was flung through what could only be one thing: A window frame. And the window was open.
His first thought was:
Fast Moving Spider + Hard Ground = Dead.
His second thought was:
Fast Moving Human + Hard Ground = Slightly Less Dead.
And so it was that Demitrius did something he had never done, nor ever wanted to do, in his life. He transformed from his spider shape, back into his human, while plummeting from what looked to be a third story window. His body twisted back into it's more natural form. The amount of nausea he was in increased, a combination of the transforming process, the sickening sensation of falling, and his own abject terror.
Crack. Mind-blowing pain flared up from his left side as he crashed into something very hard. A tree branch. And the crack came not from the tree, but from his arm, which was now twisted at a rather terrible angle. Then there was no longer anything between himself and the ground, and he landed, crying out in pain as he smashed rather mercilessly into the earth. Stars blinked and blotched across his vision. Briefly, Demi wondered if he would die. The thought crossed him as a rather funny one. He let out a bark of pained, slightly delirious laughter, before unconsciousness claimed him and his eyes rolled shut.
~
Harry was used to expecting trouble from Malfoy. After all, the boy hadn't failed to disappoint him on that account since their first year at Hogwarts. Still, it was something of a surprise, standing in the meeting room talking shop with Ron, to have Malfoy erupt from the floo with a horrendous shout. What was even more surprising was watching the blond man kick a huge, scary, venomous black tarantula right onto Ron's head. So surprising that at first nobody made a move. Then all hell broke loose. "Ron!" Harry shouted, as two of the other aurors grabbed Malfoy and pulled him to his feet. The redhead began to shake with visible horror as all colour drained from his face. Auror Regina Bradley, who had been standing propped up against the wall but minutes before, had taken her wand out and with typical muggle-born style used it to whack the spider right off of Ron's head.
The entire room watched as the arachnid went flying, through the air, and right out the open window. And all Harry could think for the first few moments was: 'He hasn't been this obvious since we graduated!' Meaning, of course, Malfoy. Ron was just standing there, looking extremely pale and shaken. Not that Harry could blame him. His friend still hadn't gotten over his fear of spiders. Boggarts, Banshees, Vampires, all were in his skill to handle, but spiders still had the power to shock him quiet. Even if it only lasted a few minutes these days. Of course, Harry could understand that fear. Dementors still made him nauseous. "Weasley, you alright?" Regina asked, as Malfoy shook himself free of the two other aurors' grasps.
"Y-yeah." Ron managed to choke out, and Harry offered him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
"What the hell's the big idea, Malfoy? This is a serious meeting!" He said, suddenly rounding on his arch nemesis. More than anything Harry wished he could get something substantial on Malfoy. Something his family name and family money couldn't save him from, and get the Death Eater spy thrown into Azkaban once and for all. But just wishing never made anything come true.
Before Malfoy could answer, however, a pained and very human shout burst into the room from the outside. In a flash Harry, Ron, and any other auror who was close enough had darted over to the window. "Did it land on someone?" Ron asked, regaining himself finally and showing his concern. But the sight that greeted them from below was not one any had expected.
There was no spider, lying dead on the ground. Nor was there a frantic person trying to dislodge one from their head, though that would have been unlikely, as this particular Meeting Room was located in a secluded Order Safe-House. A healthy oak tree, who's branches had reached out towards the building, had lost one such limb. Snapped in half by the fall of something definitely not spider-sized. And lying on the ground was a human boy. A Hogwarts student, to be more precise, judging by the robes and glittering badge Harry could make out. "Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed.
"Ron, Bradley, Carol, come with me. The rest of you keep an eye on Malfoy." Harry said. There were a few nods, but Malfoy fixed him with a dark look.
"I don't remember you being crowned King of Aurors, Potter." He said darkly, even as his fellows glared at him with suspicion. Harry shifted his emerald green gaze to match Malfoy's icy blue one.
"Shut it, Malfoy." Ron snapped, and with that the four named aurors stalked out of the Meeting Room. "What do you suppose he's up to?" The redhead whispered, as soon as the door had swung shut behind them. Harry shrugged. For some reason, this seemed decidedly un-Malfoyish. While it wasn't above him to throw a punch or a petty insult, this whole thing seemed more than a little on the chaotic side. If he was going to be honest with himself Harry would have to say he had no clue what was going on. This was just... Bizarre.
It didn't take long for them to get outside. Once they were, all four aurors drew their wands. "You three stay back." Harry asked, and his words were met with no resistance as he moved forward carefully, to examine the boy before him. He lowered a hand to take his pulse, and noticed that his arm was twisted in a very awkward way. 'Broken.' His mind told him firmly. But, only the arm it seemed, and not the neck, for the kid was still breathing. Harry looked at his face. He blinked. How odd, it was almost like... No, it couldn't be. He shook his head. What was going on here? He looked around, checking for something to confirm his suspicions. There was no spider.
His gaze returned to the boy. Which meant that this, here, was their spider. An animagus. Harry frowned. An unregistered one, too, it seemed. But that still didn't explain why he'd come through the floo with Malfoy. Was it all some elaborate trap? Well, trap or no trap, something needed to be done. The meeting would have to be postponed. "Alright. Ron, come help me. We'll levitate him in and let Winston look at him." He instructed. 'And then Malfoy'll have some explaining to do.' Harry added to himself, as Ron walked over, and together they got the boy's limp body in the air. "Bradley, Carol? Mind opening the doors?" He asked, and in a flash the two aurors went to do just that.
Careful not to bash their floating charge into anything, Ron and Harry manoeuvred him inside, eventually depositing him on a sofa in the Safe House's sitting room, mindful of his broken arm. And careful of everything else too. There could be internal injuries. "I'll go get Winston." Amos Carol offered, and tucking his wand back into it's place, bounded up the steps to the Meeting Room.
"Right. Now, time for Malfoy." Ron said, and began rolling up his sleeves as he made to follow the other auror.
"Ron, wait. We'll do that part when we're all together." Harry advised, grabbing Ron's arm to stop him from moving away. With a dejected grumble his friend shrugged him off.
"All together means witnesses Harry!" He said, but all the same broke a half-smile, knowing full well that his friend was right. Harry laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"That goes two ways, you know." He explained. Then both stopped at the thudding sound of Winston Bicks' footsteps, as the auror came down, following after his colleague. Before the war broke out Winston had been training to be a mediwizard. However, times of need are times of action, and since he was a very skilled wizard the man had made a change of professions. But the skills he learned while apprenticing at St. Mungo's often proved to be a very useful thing. For starters, it had kept a lot of Winston's fellows from looking like Moody had before the old wizard met his end.
Harry and Ron moved aside to let the older auror look at the boy. The man pulled out his wand, and after saying a quick spell, a pale green mirror of the young man's skeleton popped into existence just above his unconscious form. Winston looked at it carefully. "Broken arm, two places." The man murmured, looking over everything. "Seems to be it." He muttered, and waved his wand, causing the skeletal image to vanish. The other four aurors watched as he performed other tasks, checking for internal bleeding or head damage, before mending the broken limb. "He's a got a light concussion, so we should probably wake him up. Other than that I'd say he's lucky. The tree broke his arm, and his fall, all in one." Winston explained.
"I'll go get some Pepper-up Potion. I think Agnes keeps some on hand, just in case." Auror Bradley offered. A few minutes later she was back, and handing a small bottle to Winston. Harry looked at the older man.
"I think we should get Malfoy down here for this, don't you?" He asked. A nod, and then Potter set off to ask that their 'fellow auror' be brought down. He couldn't be certain, but he had the uncanny suspicion that this was just the opportunity he'd been waiting for.
~
Severus Snape felt like a fish out of water. Whatever his element was, it most certainly was not romance. He placed his eyes on anything and everything but Hermione Granger as they made the rest of the trip to Hogsmeade, not particularly sure what to say or do. He wasn't even certain which one of them had made the first move. Although, he had to admit, he was somewhat grateful she'd pulled the grass off his forehead. For more reasons than one.
He was certain to keep his face a stony mask as he remembered the kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet, as curious and exploring as her nature. She hadn't pulled away in disgust. At first, that's what he thought had happened, when she jerked away so suddenly. That she'd realised just who it was she had been kissing, and immediately desired nothing more than to run away and douse her mouth in antibacterial washes. Not an entirely unfounded reaction. While Snape may have once been what some would consider 'handsome', time and his own inner darkness had ensured that no one felt the need to be close to him. His mouth still tingled, her taste lingering on his lips. What did it mean? He risked a glance at her out of the corner of his eye.
She was beautiful. He'd had that thought fleetingly, on and off, for some time now. The awkward stages of her childhood had melted away, and like a butterfly from it's cocoon, Hermione Granger had grown more lovely than any would have guessed. Had she enjoyed kissing him? Snape banished the preposterous notion. He, her old, creepy, shadow-skulking professor? A man she supposedly hated?
And what about him? This was the annoying Gryffindor muggle-born, who had been one-third of an ever-lasting scholastic nightmare. A child. And yet, she most certainly wasn't a child anymore, was she? Young, yes, but... What did all this mean? "Professor?" Hermione said, and Snape winced a little at the name. Reminding him just how inappropriate these thoughts were. He'd been her teacher, for Merlin's sake!
"Yes?" He asked, and she seemed to notice his discomfort. Her cheeks were still a little flushed.
"I, er, what direction?" She asked, and Snape blinked.
"What?" He inquired, slightly caught off guard. What did she mean, 'direction'? But when she looked at him he was surprised to see her expression was a little amused.
"What direction is that old house those boys mentioned? We are going there, aren't we?" Hermione rephrased her question, and Snape felt a twinge of embarrassment. Of course, what had be been thinking? They were here on a mission. And as he'd learned long ago, distractions on missions meant almost instantaneous failure.
"Further down the street, past the Shreiking Shack." Snape said curtly. His nerves really were on edge. Maybe that was why he'd lost control for moment, giving into lust and weakness for just a few seconds, and loosing control to Hermione's feminine wiles. Never mind that the idea of bookworm, Know-It-All, innocent young Professor Granger wouldn't know how to use her feminine charms if there were eighty books on it all stacked in front of her. Or that 'lust' just somehow didn't same like the right word. But Snape refused to believe it could ever possibly be anything more than that. Lust, just lust.
And yet, he'd seen beautiful women before, and never found himself so utterly distracted. What was it? The combination of that beauty with intelligence? No, rare though it was he'd seen that as well. How could this former student turn his head? He suppressed a snort of disgust. A former student. Perhaps he was just becoming more and more depraved as the years went on.
His thoughts were brought to a halt as the structure they were looking for caught his sight. It was old and dilapidated, not even remotely well cared for. The roof was stripped and falling on itself. Windows and doors were boarded up, and the plant life of the front yard had begun to overtake the house, tendrils of ivy creeping up and along the walls. "I guess this is it." Hermione said, taking in the surroundings carefully.
Snape sighed inwardly. He knew coming here was pointless, a portkey left nothing behind. But then again, he hadn't much enjoyed the idea of standing around, twiddling his thumbs while he pondered in his office. The Death Eaters did not have the same moral inhibitions as Albus Dumbledore did. They were unlikely to hesitate in asking after future events, drilling young Demitrius until they had sapped every last ounce of information. Snape's eyes narrowed as Hermione began walking around the building, looking for clues or whatever might satisfy her. He'd been on uneasy ground with Voldemort ever since he returned. The Dark Lord kept keen eyes upon him, but Snape was sure to tread lightly. Lucius had long ago figured out where his 'friend's true loyalties lay, but as long as he had no proof, his accusations seemed nothing more than typical Slytherin power-struggles.
He'd known nothing of a plot to abduct to Demitrius. Whether this was the work of a lone Death Eater, or Voldemort had simply kept such knowledge from him, he did not know. Something caught Snape's attention, suddenly, from the corner of his eye. He turned to look at Hermione. She stood, a little ways off, her wand drawn. Soft, delicate lips were mouthing the whispered words of an incantation. He frowned. What was she up to?
"Preo Annus!" She said sharply, and Snape jumped aside as shadow images leapt up from the earth at his feet.
"What are you doing?" He hissed at Hermione, startled. She grabbed his arm and pulled him sharply away, much to his surprise.
"Preo Annus, the Past Events spell." She explained. "It's a variation on Priori Incantatem, only it uses a location, instead of a wand. Shows the last spell used in a certain spot. It was a long shot, but..." Here she stopped, as the shadow-images began to take shape. They were soft and a fuzzy blue colour, almost translucent. Snape's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the image of Demitrius, obviously under the influence of several spells, touching down upon the empty box of Berty Blott's Every Flavour Beans. Like a wink, the boy disappeared, and the scene quickly faded thereafter.
For a moment neither Snape, nor Hermione spoke. They stood unconsciously close together. "Well, at least now we're sure of it." Hermione said after a time. Her voice was so close, Snape almost jumped, and he quickly moved a further distance away. A blush tinted Hermione's cheeks, and she quickly looked down, her eyes deciding to focus on her watch instead. "Er, uh... Oh, look, it's almost noon. Where did the time go?" She said falsely, obvious uncomfortable.
Snape opened his mouth to say something. However, he was rather rudely cut off, and not by Hermione either. But by a dark and burning pain that erupted from his own forearm. Before he could think Snape let out a hiss of anguish and clamped a hand down over the Dark Mark, his vision blurring a little at the searing, almost agonising sensation. And one that was all too familiar as well. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked suddenly, and laid a concerned hand upon his shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" Snape spat suddenly, and batted her hand away. He looked at her face. It was filled with concern, and a little hurt, at being so harshly dismissed. But Snape had no time, nor will, to apologise. Pain, by it's very nature, can invoke two great reactions in a living thing: Fear, and anger. And both such emotions often prompt violent responses. Snape was no exception to that rule.
"What is it?" Hermione asked more carefully, this time keeping her hands firmly at her sides.
"I'm being summoned. Go, back to Hogwarts. Now." Snape ordered, and left no room for debate in his voice. The young woman before him looked at him with a torn expression. 'Foolish Gryffindor sentimentality.' Snape thought darkly, before he clenched his teeth as a new wave of pain overtook him. He needed to apparate quickly. "Hermione, GO!" He yelled, and with one last look, she did as asked.
~
Hermione ran, as quickly as she could, back to Hogwarts. Summoned. He was being summoned. The thought put a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, like a ball of cold, hard ice. Dumbeldore would know what to do, wouldn't he? 'I shouldn't leave him!' Her mind told her, and she felt confusion swell in her, even as she ran past curious gazes. But what else could she do? Running felt like betrayal, or cowardice.
She stopped. Should she go back? Turning a little, she looked down the way she came. No, he'd be gone by now, wouldn't he? Hermione shook her head, before starting off again. The best thing she could do would be to get to Dumbledore. 'Who would have ever pictured this? Hermione Granger, frantic over Severus Snape!' She thought. And what was he to her, anyway? What were her feelings? They'd kissed. But, this was a man she hated!
Wasn't it? He was brilliant, more brilliant than any other professor she'd known. Certainly he could be a real condescending bastard at times. And he'd never, ever, acknowledged the fact that she was talented. No matter how hard she tried, Snape was the one teacher who didn't crack. But did that matter? What did she want from him, a standing ovation? And why did his opinion mean so much? Hermione barrelled down a corner, crossing the street and being careful not to displace a young witch who was going by. She'd kissed him. Or he'd kissed her, one of the two. But why? Why had she done it?
He was the youngest teacher on staff aside from her. He was handsome, in a sort of dark, eerie, master-of-the-dammed kind of way. And now that she thought of it, she'd always been a sucker for the tragic hero. Harry definitely fit that bill, and her old boyfriend, Viktor, had too. And she had to admit, despite his best efforts to prove otherwise Snape *was* something of a hero. Recent events were a testament to that. He spied on people, once his friends, for the sake of a greater good. And because of the very nature of his heroics, they would never be recognised.
No wonder he hated Harry so much. Cold as it sounded, all he had to do to earn his fame was live. To be placed in a spotlight Snape himself had long ago given up on, it seemed, by circumstance alone. Without realising it Hermione began to cry. What if he died? What if Voldemort killed him, and no one would know everything he'd done? She hadn't been looking forward to talking to him about that kiss. But now, she'd rather have a thousand awkward conversations with him than never see him again.
Before she knew it Hermione was on the Hogwarts ground again. Her breaths were deep and ragged, and she tired from a day filled with running. As she dashed along her right leg suddenly gave out, and she collapsed, crying and tired onto the ground. And so very worried as well. "Hermione?" A concerned voice asked, and something large eclipsed her from the sunlight.
Tilting her face, she looked up. "Hagrid?" She asked, and suddenly big, warm hands were clasping her shoulders and bringing her to her feet.
"What's 'appened? Are yeh hurt?" Hagrid asked in concern, and drawing a deep breath, Hermione shook her head.
"No, I'm fine, but I have to tell Dumbledore Professor Snape's been summoned by Voldemort." She said. For some reason, calling him 'Professor Snape' just didn't feel right. An image floated to her mind, of his face looking up into hers, a map of pain.
"Hermione, GO!"
Hermione. He'd used her first name. Hagrid held onto her shoulder firmly, as she bit her lower lip to keep from crying again. "Come on now, come with me." He urged her, and began leading her over to his home, concern written on his face.
"No, I have to go see Dumbledore..." She said, but Hagrid shook his head.
"No, yeh don'. In fact yeh shouldn't." He told her as they walked, soon reaching his front door. He pulled it open and led her inside and onto a chair. "Sit there, an' I'll make yeh some tea." Hagrid told her. Hermione looked at him imploringly.
"Why shouldn't I go to Dumbledore?" She asked, letting curiosity briefly blot out her worry as she watched the half-giant go about the business of heating tea. A tea she was unlikely to drink, knowing Hagrid's cooking skills, but it was a gesture not lost on her.
"Because, Hermione, 'e told me once not ta go runnin' when this sort o' thing happened. Don' want ta give away anythin', yeh know?" Hagrid explained, and suddenly it made sense. Of course. Snape was a spy, this was hardly the first time something like this would have happened. And having someone tell Dumbledore each time there was a gathering of Death Eaters would be a little obvious. Students might relay things to parents, and Voldemort's followers would get suspicious. How could she have been so thick?
"Oh." She managed to say, and realising what a mess her face must have looked, raised a hand to wipe at her tears. She took the cup of tea Hagrid placed within her grasp. "I guess I must look a bit strange." She confessed with a laugh. What must he think of her now, running and crying over Snape? Would he tell Ron and Harry how strange she behaved?
"Don' worry, it's ta be expected. Yer only human, Hermione, an' humans can act a might bit strange when the people they love 're 'urt." Hagrid said consolingly, and sat down across from her. Hermione nearly spit the tea she'd just sipped. And for once, it wasn't because of the flavour.
"WHAT?!?" She asked, startled into incredulity. Hagrid looked at her with a genuinely innocent expression.
"Humans can act a might bit strange..." He started again, before she waved a hand to stop him, shaking her head.
"Why... Why would you think I love Snape?!?" She demanded this time. Had Hagrid seen them kiss? Her cheeks flushed a vibrant red at the thought. The half-giant looked at her in confusion for a minute. Then his eyes widened, and he seemed to realise something.
"Oh, yeh mean... Yeh don't?" He asked after a brief pause. Hermione's mouth opened and closed automatically as she fought to find something to say. 'No, of course not!' Jumped to mind, but for some reason, she was having troubles spitting it out. The memory of soft lips against her own kept drifting up, striking an inner match ever time she searched for her voice. Hagrid was looking a little flustered himself. "Well, I jus' assumed, tha way Dumbledore said it an' all..."
"D-Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, finally finding words. Dumbeldore knew about this?! Well, she'd always suspected that there was very little the man didn't know, but that suspicion hadn't tread into her personal affairs! Hagrid expression was reminiscent of how she felt. Like a person floundering in deep water.
"Th-tha's it, no more questions!" He said, in the same tone of voice he always used when he thought he'd said to much, and before Hermione could blink she was being wished a good day and hurried out the door. As she stood there, blinking into the sunlight, she could think only one thing.
Was she in love with Snape?
A/N: And that's all she wrote! Well, actually no, I've got a fair bit of chapter twelve done. But it's all *you're* going to read. And yet again the reviews section is acting up, so I can't seem to read any of my anonymous reviews, so since only doing some shout-outs would be pretty unfair to those who didn't log-in I'll be skipping them again this chapter. Hopefully there won't be any problems next time. Thanks for reading, and as always, please tell me whatcha think! :D
Auror's meetings take place in very secretive rooms. Kept in special locations, no two rooms are ever used twice in a row, and the entire area is a blocked off with an anti-magic shielding spell. That way, should anyone get it into their heads that they want to attack the aurors while they're all together, they'll have to do it without magic. And it's simple principle that no follower of the Dark Lord would ever pick up a machine gun, lest they taint their pureblood hands with muggle tools.
Because of the no-magic shielding, aurors may only reach the room via a special floo network, as apparition is out of the question. And that floo is very carefully watched to ensure that *only* aurors get through. So it was that when a very terrified-looking Draco Malfoy plunged through the opening, a cry on his lips, that about twenty aurors were on their feet and looking for a fight. Which wasn't exactly what the got.
Demitrius had clung onto Malfoy's shoe, disgusting as it was, for the entire ride up the floo. He hadn't desired to be blown away into an entirely foreign network. When he first left the dungeon/basement room, he hadn't thought much past getting out of Malfoy's house. Until he realised that he would be just as lost outside the Manor as he was inside, having seen so little of the world beyond Hogwarts, and very nearly lost his cool at the thought. Until he overheard the man's conversation with his wife. What better help for a kidnapped student than a room full of aurors?
So it was that Demi found himself latched firmly onto one of his most hated enemies' feet, trying desperately to resist the urge to sink his fangs into the man's soft ankle. Marcus' voice kept resounding in his head every time he came close. And then, all too soon, the option was lost as Malfoy tumbled through the grate with a shout. As he did so, his leg kicked out, and Demi finally lost his grip.
Spiders aren't meant to fly. Probably one of the reasons Demitrius despised Quidditch so much, was that he was not designed for high-speed air travel. So it was that he felt himself fill with dread, both the spider parts of his mind and the human, as he was launched rather recklessly into the air. Instinct screamed 'Dead, we're dead, this is it!!' at him, until suddenly, he landed on something soft. Soft and red. Demi paused for a minute in surprise. Who would have thought the aurors would keep a red carpet in one of their meeting rooms? But, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this wasn't a carpet he'd landed on. "Ron!" He heard a familiar voice shout, and then it hit him, all rather suddenly, as the 'thing' he'd landed on began to shake quite violently.
Demi braced himself. And with good reason, too, because in another few seconds he felt something very hard whack him from his place on Weasley's head. There was the sound of shouting in the air. And then, well, air. Lots of it. Demitrius watched in terror as his spider form was flung through what could only be one thing: A window frame. And the window was open.
His first thought was:
Fast Moving Spider + Hard Ground = Dead.
His second thought was:
Fast Moving Human + Hard Ground = Slightly Less Dead.
And so it was that Demitrius did something he had never done, nor ever wanted to do, in his life. He transformed from his spider shape, back into his human, while plummeting from what looked to be a third story window. His body twisted back into it's more natural form. The amount of nausea he was in increased, a combination of the transforming process, the sickening sensation of falling, and his own abject terror.
Crack. Mind-blowing pain flared up from his left side as he crashed into something very hard. A tree branch. And the crack came not from the tree, but from his arm, which was now twisted at a rather terrible angle. Then there was no longer anything between himself and the ground, and he landed, crying out in pain as he smashed rather mercilessly into the earth. Stars blinked and blotched across his vision. Briefly, Demi wondered if he would die. The thought crossed him as a rather funny one. He let out a bark of pained, slightly delirious laughter, before unconsciousness claimed him and his eyes rolled shut.
~
Harry was used to expecting trouble from Malfoy. After all, the boy hadn't failed to disappoint him on that account since their first year at Hogwarts. Still, it was something of a surprise, standing in the meeting room talking shop with Ron, to have Malfoy erupt from the floo with a horrendous shout. What was even more surprising was watching the blond man kick a huge, scary, venomous black tarantula right onto Ron's head. So surprising that at first nobody made a move. Then all hell broke loose. "Ron!" Harry shouted, as two of the other aurors grabbed Malfoy and pulled him to his feet. The redhead began to shake with visible horror as all colour drained from his face. Auror Regina Bradley, who had been standing propped up against the wall but minutes before, had taken her wand out and with typical muggle-born style used it to whack the spider right off of Ron's head.
The entire room watched as the arachnid went flying, through the air, and right out the open window. And all Harry could think for the first few moments was: 'He hasn't been this obvious since we graduated!' Meaning, of course, Malfoy. Ron was just standing there, looking extremely pale and shaken. Not that Harry could blame him. His friend still hadn't gotten over his fear of spiders. Boggarts, Banshees, Vampires, all were in his skill to handle, but spiders still had the power to shock him quiet. Even if it only lasted a few minutes these days. Of course, Harry could understand that fear. Dementors still made him nauseous. "Weasley, you alright?" Regina asked, as Malfoy shook himself free of the two other aurors' grasps.
"Y-yeah." Ron managed to choke out, and Harry offered him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
"What the hell's the big idea, Malfoy? This is a serious meeting!" He said, suddenly rounding on his arch nemesis. More than anything Harry wished he could get something substantial on Malfoy. Something his family name and family money couldn't save him from, and get the Death Eater spy thrown into Azkaban once and for all. But just wishing never made anything come true.
Before Malfoy could answer, however, a pained and very human shout burst into the room from the outside. In a flash Harry, Ron, and any other auror who was close enough had darted over to the window. "Did it land on someone?" Ron asked, regaining himself finally and showing his concern. But the sight that greeted them from below was not one any had expected.
There was no spider, lying dead on the ground. Nor was there a frantic person trying to dislodge one from their head, though that would have been unlikely, as this particular Meeting Room was located in a secluded Order Safe-House. A healthy oak tree, who's branches had reached out towards the building, had lost one such limb. Snapped in half by the fall of something definitely not spider-sized. And lying on the ground was a human boy. A Hogwarts student, to be more precise, judging by the robes and glittering badge Harry could make out. "Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed.
"Ron, Bradley, Carol, come with me. The rest of you keep an eye on Malfoy." Harry said. There were a few nods, but Malfoy fixed him with a dark look.
"I don't remember you being crowned King of Aurors, Potter." He said darkly, even as his fellows glared at him with suspicion. Harry shifted his emerald green gaze to match Malfoy's icy blue one.
"Shut it, Malfoy." Ron snapped, and with that the four named aurors stalked out of the Meeting Room. "What do you suppose he's up to?" The redhead whispered, as soon as the door had swung shut behind them. Harry shrugged. For some reason, this seemed decidedly un-Malfoyish. While it wasn't above him to throw a punch or a petty insult, this whole thing seemed more than a little on the chaotic side. If he was going to be honest with himself Harry would have to say he had no clue what was going on. This was just... Bizarre.
It didn't take long for them to get outside. Once they were, all four aurors drew their wands. "You three stay back." Harry asked, and his words were met with no resistance as he moved forward carefully, to examine the boy before him. He lowered a hand to take his pulse, and noticed that his arm was twisted in a very awkward way. 'Broken.' His mind told him firmly. But, only the arm it seemed, and not the neck, for the kid was still breathing. Harry looked at his face. He blinked. How odd, it was almost like... No, it couldn't be. He shook his head. What was going on here? He looked around, checking for something to confirm his suspicions. There was no spider.
His gaze returned to the boy. Which meant that this, here, was their spider. An animagus. Harry frowned. An unregistered one, too, it seemed. But that still didn't explain why he'd come through the floo with Malfoy. Was it all some elaborate trap? Well, trap or no trap, something needed to be done. The meeting would have to be postponed. "Alright. Ron, come help me. We'll levitate him in and let Winston look at him." He instructed. 'And then Malfoy'll have some explaining to do.' Harry added to himself, as Ron walked over, and together they got the boy's limp body in the air. "Bradley, Carol? Mind opening the doors?" He asked, and in a flash the two aurors went to do just that.
Careful not to bash their floating charge into anything, Ron and Harry manoeuvred him inside, eventually depositing him on a sofa in the Safe House's sitting room, mindful of his broken arm. And careful of everything else too. There could be internal injuries. "I'll go get Winston." Amos Carol offered, and tucking his wand back into it's place, bounded up the steps to the Meeting Room.
"Right. Now, time for Malfoy." Ron said, and began rolling up his sleeves as he made to follow the other auror.
"Ron, wait. We'll do that part when we're all together." Harry advised, grabbing Ron's arm to stop him from moving away. With a dejected grumble his friend shrugged him off.
"All together means witnesses Harry!" He said, but all the same broke a half-smile, knowing full well that his friend was right. Harry laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"That goes two ways, you know." He explained. Then both stopped at the thudding sound of Winston Bicks' footsteps, as the auror came down, following after his colleague. Before the war broke out Winston had been training to be a mediwizard. However, times of need are times of action, and since he was a very skilled wizard the man had made a change of professions. But the skills he learned while apprenticing at St. Mungo's often proved to be a very useful thing. For starters, it had kept a lot of Winston's fellows from looking like Moody had before the old wizard met his end.
Harry and Ron moved aside to let the older auror look at the boy. The man pulled out his wand, and after saying a quick spell, a pale green mirror of the young man's skeleton popped into existence just above his unconscious form. Winston looked at it carefully. "Broken arm, two places." The man murmured, looking over everything. "Seems to be it." He muttered, and waved his wand, causing the skeletal image to vanish. The other four aurors watched as he performed other tasks, checking for internal bleeding or head damage, before mending the broken limb. "He's a got a light concussion, so we should probably wake him up. Other than that I'd say he's lucky. The tree broke his arm, and his fall, all in one." Winston explained.
"I'll go get some Pepper-up Potion. I think Agnes keeps some on hand, just in case." Auror Bradley offered. A few minutes later she was back, and handing a small bottle to Winston. Harry looked at the older man.
"I think we should get Malfoy down here for this, don't you?" He asked. A nod, and then Potter set off to ask that their 'fellow auror' be brought down. He couldn't be certain, but he had the uncanny suspicion that this was just the opportunity he'd been waiting for.
~
Severus Snape felt like a fish out of water. Whatever his element was, it most certainly was not romance. He placed his eyes on anything and everything but Hermione Granger as they made the rest of the trip to Hogsmeade, not particularly sure what to say or do. He wasn't even certain which one of them had made the first move. Although, he had to admit, he was somewhat grateful she'd pulled the grass off his forehead. For more reasons than one.
He was certain to keep his face a stony mask as he remembered the kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet, as curious and exploring as her nature. She hadn't pulled away in disgust. At first, that's what he thought had happened, when she jerked away so suddenly. That she'd realised just who it was she had been kissing, and immediately desired nothing more than to run away and douse her mouth in antibacterial washes. Not an entirely unfounded reaction. While Snape may have once been what some would consider 'handsome', time and his own inner darkness had ensured that no one felt the need to be close to him. His mouth still tingled, her taste lingering on his lips. What did it mean? He risked a glance at her out of the corner of his eye.
She was beautiful. He'd had that thought fleetingly, on and off, for some time now. The awkward stages of her childhood had melted away, and like a butterfly from it's cocoon, Hermione Granger had grown more lovely than any would have guessed. Had she enjoyed kissing him? Snape banished the preposterous notion. He, her old, creepy, shadow-skulking professor? A man she supposedly hated?
And what about him? This was the annoying Gryffindor muggle-born, who had been one-third of an ever-lasting scholastic nightmare. A child. And yet, she most certainly wasn't a child anymore, was she? Young, yes, but... What did all this mean? "Professor?" Hermione said, and Snape winced a little at the name. Reminding him just how inappropriate these thoughts were. He'd been her teacher, for Merlin's sake!
"Yes?" He asked, and she seemed to notice his discomfort. Her cheeks were still a little flushed.
"I, er, what direction?" She asked, and Snape blinked.
"What?" He inquired, slightly caught off guard. What did she mean, 'direction'? But when she looked at him he was surprised to see her expression was a little amused.
"What direction is that old house those boys mentioned? We are going there, aren't we?" Hermione rephrased her question, and Snape felt a twinge of embarrassment. Of course, what had be been thinking? They were here on a mission. And as he'd learned long ago, distractions on missions meant almost instantaneous failure.
"Further down the street, past the Shreiking Shack." Snape said curtly. His nerves really were on edge. Maybe that was why he'd lost control for moment, giving into lust and weakness for just a few seconds, and loosing control to Hermione's feminine wiles. Never mind that the idea of bookworm, Know-It-All, innocent young Professor Granger wouldn't know how to use her feminine charms if there were eighty books on it all stacked in front of her. Or that 'lust' just somehow didn't same like the right word. But Snape refused to believe it could ever possibly be anything more than that. Lust, just lust.
And yet, he'd seen beautiful women before, and never found himself so utterly distracted. What was it? The combination of that beauty with intelligence? No, rare though it was he'd seen that as well. How could this former student turn his head? He suppressed a snort of disgust. A former student. Perhaps he was just becoming more and more depraved as the years went on.
His thoughts were brought to a halt as the structure they were looking for caught his sight. It was old and dilapidated, not even remotely well cared for. The roof was stripped and falling on itself. Windows and doors were boarded up, and the plant life of the front yard had begun to overtake the house, tendrils of ivy creeping up and along the walls. "I guess this is it." Hermione said, taking in the surroundings carefully.
Snape sighed inwardly. He knew coming here was pointless, a portkey left nothing behind. But then again, he hadn't much enjoyed the idea of standing around, twiddling his thumbs while he pondered in his office. The Death Eaters did not have the same moral inhibitions as Albus Dumbledore did. They were unlikely to hesitate in asking after future events, drilling young Demitrius until they had sapped every last ounce of information. Snape's eyes narrowed as Hermione began walking around the building, looking for clues or whatever might satisfy her. He'd been on uneasy ground with Voldemort ever since he returned. The Dark Lord kept keen eyes upon him, but Snape was sure to tread lightly. Lucius had long ago figured out where his 'friend's true loyalties lay, but as long as he had no proof, his accusations seemed nothing more than typical Slytherin power-struggles.
He'd known nothing of a plot to abduct to Demitrius. Whether this was the work of a lone Death Eater, or Voldemort had simply kept such knowledge from him, he did not know. Something caught Snape's attention, suddenly, from the corner of his eye. He turned to look at Hermione. She stood, a little ways off, her wand drawn. Soft, delicate lips were mouthing the whispered words of an incantation. He frowned. What was she up to?
"Preo Annus!" She said sharply, and Snape jumped aside as shadow images leapt up from the earth at his feet.
"What are you doing?" He hissed at Hermione, startled. She grabbed his arm and pulled him sharply away, much to his surprise.
"Preo Annus, the Past Events spell." She explained. "It's a variation on Priori Incantatem, only it uses a location, instead of a wand. Shows the last spell used in a certain spot. It was a long shot, but..." Here she stopped, as the shadow-images began to take shape. They were soft and a fuzzy blue colour, almost translucent. Snape's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the image of Demitrius, obviously under the influence of several spells, touching down upon the empty box of Berty Blott's Every Flavour Beans. Like a wink, the boy disappeared, and the scene quickly faded thereafter.
For a moment neither Snape, nor Hermione spoke. They stood unconsciously close together. "Well, at least now we're sure of it." Hermione said after a time. Her voice was so close, Snape almost jumped, and he quickly moved a further distance away. A blush tinted Hermione's cheeks, and she quickly looked down, her eyes deciding to focus on her watch instead. "Er, uh... Oh, look, it's almost noon. Where did the time go?" She said falsely, obvious uncomfortable.
Snape opened his mouth to say something. However, he was rather rudely cut off, and not by Hermione either. But by a dark and burning pain that erupted from his own forearm. Before he could think Snape let out a hiss of anguish and clamped a hand down over the Dark Mark, his vision blurring a little at the searing, almost agonising sensation. And one that was all too familiar as well. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked suddenly, and laid a concerned hand upon his shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" Snape spat suddenly, and batted her hand away. He looked at her face. It was filled with concern, and a little hurt, at being so harshly dismissed. But Snape had no time, nor will, to apologise. Pain, by it's very nature, can invoke two great reactions in a living thing: Fear, and anger. And both such emotions often prompt violent responses. Snape was no exception to that rule.
"What is it?" Hermione asked more carefully, this time keeping her hands firmly at her sides.
"I'm being summoned. Go, back to Hogwarts. Now." Snape ordered, and left no room for debate in his voice. The young woman before him looked at him with a torn expression. 'Foolish Gryffindor sentimentality.' Snape thought darkly, before he clenched his teeth as a new wave of pain overtook him. He needed to apparate quickly. "Hermione, GO!" He yelled, and with one last look, she did as asked.
~
Hermione ran, as quickly as she could, back to Hogwarts. Summoned. He was being summoned. The thought put a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, like a ball of cold, hard ice. Dumbeldore would know what to do, wouldn't he? 'I shouldn't leave him!' Her mind told her, and she felt confusion swell in her, even as she ran past curious gazes. But what else could she do? Running felt like betrayal, or cowardice.
She stopped. Should she go back? Turning a little, she looked down the way she came. No, he'd be gone by now, wouldn't he? Hermione shook her head, before starting off again. The best thing she could do would be to get to Dumbledore. 'Who would have ever pictured this? Hermione Granger, frantic over Severus Snape!' She thought. And what was he to her, anyway? What were her feelings? They'd kissed. But, this was a man she hated!
Wasn't it? He was brilliant, more brilliant than any other professor she'd known. Certainly he could be a real condescending bastard at times. And he'd never, ever, acknowledged the fact that she was talented. No matter how hard she tried, Snape was the one teacher who didn't crack. But did that matter? What did she want from him, a standing ovation? And why did his opinion mean so much? Hermione barrelled down a corner, crossing the street and being careful not to displace a young witch who was going by. She'd kissed him. Or he'd kissed her, one of the two. But why? Why had she done it?
He was the youngest teacher on staff aside from her. He was handsome, in a sort of dark, eerie, master-of-the-dammed kind of way. And now that she thought of it, she'd always been a sucker for the tragic hero. Harry definitely fit that bill, and her old boyfriend, Viktor, had too. And she had to admit, despite his best efforts to prove otherwise Snape *was* something of a hero. Recent events were a testament to that. He spied on people, once his friends, for the sake of a greater good. And because of the very nature of his heroics, they would never be recognised.
No wonder he hated Harry so much. Cold as it sounded, all he had to do to earn his fame was live. To be placed in a spotlight Snape himself had long ago given up on, it seemed, by circumstance alone. Without realising it Hermione began to cry. What if he died? What if Voldemort killed him, and no one would know everything he'd done? She hadn't been looking forward to talking to him about that kiss. But now, she'd rather have a thousand awkward conversations with him than never see him again.
Before she knew it Hermione was on the Hogwarts ground again. Her breaths were deep and ragged, and she tired from a day filled with running. As she dashed along her right leg suddenly gave out, and she collapsed, crying and tired onto the ground. And so very worried as well. "Hermione?" A concerned voice asked, and something large eclipsed her from the sunlight.
Tilting her face, she looked up. "Hagrid?" She asked, and suddenly big, warm hands were clasping her shoulders and bringing her to her feet.
"What's 'appened? Are yeh hurt?" Hagrid asked in concern, and drawing a deep breath, Hermione shook her head.
"No, I'm fine, but I have to tell Dumbledore Professor Snape's been summoned by Voldemort." She said. For some reason, calling him 'Professor Snape' just didn't feel right. An image floated to her mind, of his face looking up into hers, a map of pain.
"Hermione, GO!"
Hermione. He'd used her first name. Hagrid held onto her shoulder firmly, as she bit her lower lip to keep from crying again. "Come on now, come with me." He urged her, and began leading her over to his home, concern written on his face.
"No, I have to go see Dumbledore..." She said, but Hagrid shook his head.
"No, yeh don'. In fact yeh shouldn't." He told her as they walked, soon reaching his front door. He pulled it open and led her inside and onto a chair. "Sit there, an' I'll make yeh some tea." Hagrid told her. Hermione looked at him imploringly.
"Why shouldn't I go to Dumbledore?" She asked, letting curiosity briefly blot out her worry as she watched the half-giant go about the business of heating tea. A tea she was unlikely to drink, knowing Hagrid's cooking skills, but it was a gesture not lost on her.
"Because, Hermione, 'e told me once not ta go runnin' when this sort o' thing happened. Don' want ta give away anythin', yeh know?" Hagrid explained, and suddenly it made sense. Of course. Snape was a spy, this was hardly the first time something like this would have happened. And having someone tell Dumbledore each time there was a gathering of Death Eaters would be a little obvious. Students might relay things to parents, and Voldemort's followers would get suspicious. How could she have been so thick?
"Oh." She managed to say, and realising what a mess her face must have looked, raised a hand to wipe at her tears. She took the cup of tea Hagrid placed within her grasp. "I guess I must look a bit strange." She confessed with a laugh. What must he think of her now, running and crying over Snape? Would he tell Ron and Harry how strange she behaved?
"Don' worry, it's ta be expected. Yer only human, Hermione, an' humans can act a might bit strange when the people they love 're 'urt." Hagrid said consolingly, and sat down across from her. Hermione nearly spit the tea she'd just sipped. And for once, it wasn't because of the flavour.
"WHAT?!?" She asked, startled into incredulity. Hagrid looked at her with a genuinely innocent expression.
"Humans can act a might bit strange..." He started again, before she waved a hand to stop him, shaking her head.
"Why... Why would you think I love Snape?!?" She demanded this time. Had Hagrid seen them kiss? Her cheeks flushed a vibrant red at the thought. The half-giant looked at her in confusion for a minute. Then his eyes widened, and he seemed to realise something.
"Oh, yeh mean... Yeh don't?" He asked after a brief pause. Hermione's mouth opened and closed automatically as she fought to find something to say. 'No, of course not!' Jumped to mind, but for some reason, she was having troubles spitting it out. The memory of soft lips against her own kept drifting up, striking an inner match ever time she searched for her voice. Hagrid was looking a little flustered himself. "Well, I jus' assumed, tha way Dumbledore said it an' all..."
"D-Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, finally finding words. Dumbeldore knew about this?! Well, she'd always suspected that there was very little the man didn't know, but that suspicion hadn't tread into her personal affairs! Hagrid expression was reminiscent of how she felt. Like a person floundering in deep water.
"Th-tha's it, no more questions!" He said, in the same tone of voice he always used when he thought he'd said to much, and before Hermione could blink she was being wished a good day and hurried out the door. As she stood there, blinking into the sunlight, she could think only one thing.
Was she in love with Snape?
A/N: And that's all she wrote! Well, actually no, I've got a fair bit of chapter twelve done. But it's all *you're* going to read. And yet again the reviews section is acting up, so I can't seem to read any of my anonymous reviews, so since only doing some shout-outs would be pretty unfair to those who didn't log-in I'll be skipping them again this chapter. Hopefully there won't be any problems next time. Thanks for reading, and as always, please tell me whatcha think! :D