A/N: Please read the previous two fics in this trilogy, Soul Driver and Soul on Ice, before reading this one, or you'll be sorely confused. Just click on my author name above to find the links.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J K Rowling, except the song lyrics which belong to Jackson Browne. The rest of it is mine.

~*~*~

Where the touch of the lover ends
 And the soul of the friend begins
 There's a need to be separate and a need to be one
 And in the struggle neither wins
 Where you gave me the world I was in
 And a place I could make a stand
 I could never see how you doubted me
 When I'd let go of your hand
"Sky Blue and Black" - Jackson Browne

~*~*~

He broke the long look at her by turning to leave the room as quickly as possible, before she could fully meet his eyes and weaken his resolve. He had heard and seen enough.

After a second's pause, Hermione went after Severus as he retreated from the courtroom. She knew him well enough now to know that the more time that passed, the more surly he would get; better to have this discussion while the anger was fresh rather than wait until he had stewed a while. Counterintuitive, perhaps, but that word described Severus Snape in a nutshell.

Albus stopped her on the way out of the courtroom. "I want a report in a few days, Hermione. If things aren't going well, I trust you to tell me." She nodded, distracted, and pushed past Dumbledore towards the door.

She caught Snape as he waited for the lift to take him out of the Ministry. "Severus," she said calmly. He turned, shook his head sourly, and turned back towards the lift. "Not now, Hermione. You'd do well to stay away from me."

"I will do no such thing," she said as the lift doors opened, belching several memos and a couple of shifty-looking hobgoblins accompanied by an Enforcer from the Department of Magical Creatures. He made a move to enter the lift, but she grabbed him. "Let go of me, you - insane - woman!" he hissed, tearing his coat as he barely missed the closing of the lift doors.

"We'll have this conversation now, Severus. I know what you are thinking, and you're wrong."

"Oh, I'm wrong. Let me tell you something, my girl. I have known Lucius Malfoy longer than you've been alive. He will not change. You and Dumbledore might be fooled, but I'm not. The man tried to kill you - twice - and frankly, he's tried to have me killed more than once."

"People can find their souls even when they are presumed lost. You should know that better than anyone."

"I was a young man when I came to ask for forgiveness from Dumbledore. Lucius is too far along and set in his ways. He's plotting something - it's all he knows how to do, Hermione. He does not have the capacity. I know him...all too well. I won't stand by and watch your soul - your life - be destroyed. Either stop the madness, or let me get on with with my memories of you as an intelligent woman rather than a brainwashed lunatic."

"That's cold, even for you, you bastard. Well then. If that's all," she whispered bitterly. "I certainly don't want to stop you from living your life, then. I thought we had something - I know I was willing to die for it - but I see it can't survive if you're willing to walk away like this." She sounded uncharacteristically mild, surprising him yet again. "Get out of my sight. This is utterly pointless." She walked away, determined to have the last word, even as her heart was breaking into shards. She would not show weakness in front of him, not now.

He stared after her, unable to speak. He had never felt such a deep emptiness through all his years of being alone, as he turned towards the lift doors again. Bloody fucking Malfoy.

~*~*~

Lucius Malfoy watched the end of his trial and the ensuing fracas with polite, detached satisfaction.

Dumbledore was clearly completely off his rocker, he thought. Not only did the crazy old coot not sentence Public Enemy #1 to Azkaban, he remanded him to her custody? Things couldn't have gone better if he had written the script himself.

His eyes narrowed as he observed Hermione's look at his spawn, Draco, the smug little son-of-a-bitch. Lucius followed his son's eyes towards the dark, brooding man in the back of the room. Inwardly, Lucius rejoiced at the look on Snape's face. He was certainly letting Hermione know with his eyes, in no uncertain terms, that he disapproved of this arrangement. And in typical Gryffindor fashion, he could see Hermione's jaw set and her eyes flash fire as she followed him, brushing off whatever Dumbledore had said. If she had been unsure of what to do about Lucius, Snape had just sealed it for her.

She would be determined to prove everyone wrong. Her great virtue, perhaps, or her foolish weakness.

Snape turned and left the courtroom, but not before shining a quick look of pure hatred in Lucius's direction. Ah, yes, Lucius knew that he understood. Slytherins were all the same in some respects; Snape himself wasn't as squeaky clean as he'd like to have Dumbledore believe. But Lucius had won this round, defeating Snape by saving his life and allowing his little tart to live as well. Snape owed him and would not stand in his way. Say what you will about their slipperiness, but the Snakes had their own pernicious brand of honor. In fact, Lucius had been counting on Gryffindor bravado and Slytherin deference to get himself into this position. There was no such thing as fate or luck; just decisions made shrewdly to force a favorable situation.

~*~*~

"A word, Albus." Snape looked uneasily at the door, marked "Wizengamot - Chief Wizard", before closing it firmly behind him.

"I have been expecting you, Severus. Sit down, sit down." Dumbledore had been preparing to leave his small office at the Ministry to return to Hogwarts, but now busied himself conjuring a pot of tea.

"Why?"

"That was indeed a word, after all...well, tea?"

"Don't stall, old man. You knew she would not back down from the challenge and you know how dangerous he is. Redeemed, my left foot. Not possible." Severus was easily as upset as Albus had ever seen him, which was saying quite a lot.

"Many said the same about yourself, once upon a time."

"I knew you'd see it that way, Albus!" Shaking, he took a moment to compose himself. Albus waited. "Lucius Malfoy is a thousand-fold more dangerous than I...could ever have been. I left Voldemort after only a short time in his service, and with much regret, as you bloody well know. Lucius served him then, and in his second reign. He was in Azkaban before Ministry connections forced his early release, but mark my words, he should have stayed there permanently."

"And, Severus, is it possible that you have a personal interest in this matter? That you can't look beyond his past and see a man who possibly wishes to change, because it is the woman you love who insists on making it happen?"

Severus looked away from the piercing gaze, uncomfortable in the truth of the matter so baldly stated. "Of course I have a personal interest," he spat, "but it does not change the fact that I know Malfoy. I saw it in his eyes in there, before you allowed her to take him away. He looked victorious, Albus, not penitent. I know that look. He is planning something. There can be no good end in it."

"I am going to have to trust Miss Granger in this, Severus, but..." he paused, "you could choose to be helpful or harmful in this matter. Give her your support and overcome this bitter hatred you have for Lucius. You can keep an eye on them...."

"I...will...not."

"Severus," Albus chided softly, "you are willing to give her up because of something that is inherent in her nature? The ability to see the best in someone and wish to help coax it to the top?"

"Oh, I've spent enough time around you ruddy Gryffindors to understand that as a weakness that must be tolerated if you are to...care about...them. Lucius, however, is quite mad and dangerous. I won't be a party to her destruction, Albus, I was just recently the only one who could save her. I cannot again be her saviour if she continues to take the most foolhardy paths...and you! You are helping her to permanent madness with this course of action." He turned and strode to the door, sensing the finality of the decision in Albus's demeanor. "I cannot stress this strongly enough...I warned you."

"So noted," Albus said coldly, "have you bothered to warn her too? Or are you going to avoid her and so make her fate a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

Severus refused to answer as he stormed out of the room, not wanting to admit to his mentor that he had struck a nerve.

Albus shook his head, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Could this be the same man who had shown such tender mercies to Hermione, fallen so obviously in love with her, and endured such pain to be reconciled with her in the face of impossible adversity? Snape had always been a man of such contradictions.

Again preparing to leave and lost in thought, Albus was nearly bowled over by another visitor. This time, it was Ginny Weasley.

"Professor, I'm not normally one to make a fuss, but..."

"Sit down, Miss Weasley. Let me guess. You're worried about Miss Granger."

She nodded. "I believe she is suffering from a mental disorder and that prolonged exposure to Lucius Malfoy has only exacerbated it."

Intrigued, Dumbledore poured two more cups of tea and stirred sugar into his thoughtfully, offering the other cup to his visitor. "Explain."

"I believe she is suffering from what Muggle psychologists call Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome, sir. She put herself through quite an ordeal to save Harry Potter a few months back. Once it was over, she started to exhibit behavior that was very much unlike her - rushing directly into Snape's arms after the sexual destruction she had been through? Classic symptoms of psychological trauma. She may indeed care a great deal for Professor Snape, but Hermione was never one to throw herself into anything so quickly without careful thought. Then, without warning, she fell into another very stressful situation with Malfoy's Fire and Ice hostage situation and the fact that she was forced not only to push Professor Snape away, but to be with Lucius against her will. I happen to think that she is traumatized to the point that her magic - particularly her Metamorphmagus abilities - are severely compromised. Therefore, it's not a farfetched conclusion that because she's been bounced around emotionally and physically a great deal, sir, she may be suffering ill effects that may be affecting both her judgment and her very sanity - especially where both Lucius and Snape are concerned. I would like to know how in Merlin's name you can throw that poor woman back into a situation where she is still subject to Lucius Malfoy?" As Ginny's speech had warmed up, a fire had come into her eyes and crept into her voice. She knew, better than many, what Lucius was capable of.

"Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said tiredly, "you're not the first person to come in here and express fervent reservations about my verdict."

"I saw Professor Snape leaving," she said offhandedly.

"He seems to believe that she remains in danger from him. Do you believe that is the case?"

"I don't believe she can protect herself from him if he is a danger, no. She is in no condition, in my non-professional opinion."

"Thank you, Miss Weasley. Your non-professional concern is noted."

"Noted? Thanks? And...?" He could see the blush in her pale cheeks, as her emotions warred between concern for her friend, and fear over challenging her heretofore seemingly omniscient school headmaster.

"Noted. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?" Dumbledore's exhaustion was reaching new heights. He'd have to see about resigning from the Wizengamot soon - he was losing his patience for these emotional appeals from friends and family.

Ginny shook her head disgustedly, and walked out, none-too-gently closing the door behind her.

Dumbledore sighed, beginning the walk to the Apparition point on the third floor of the Ministry. Arriving at the gates of Hogwarts a few moments later lost in thought, he nearly walked directly into Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus Dumbledore. In all my years...I never..." she sputtered, clearly beyond angry.

"Spare me the speech, my dear," Albus said. "I'm going to the kitchens. I'll see you later."

~*~*~

Hermione was in a troubled sleep. She tossed, turned, and tossed back, muttering in her sleep and occasionally moaning softly.

"How long has she been like this?" Harry whispered.

"About three hours," George said worriedly. "She returned and took Draco's father upstairs and we put him under a spell to hold him in her apartment. Then she came down here and had one glass of wine and just...collapsed on my sofa."

"Was it normal wine?" Draco asked.

"For your information," Fred said testily, "we wouldn't feed her any of our Vigorously Voracious Vintage, you git. You should know that we take care of this girl."

"How in the fucking bloody Hades does she get herself into this kind of thing? She used to be so boring." Harry said. "This is nuts. Draco, honey, you have to do something about your father."

"Harry, sweetheart, I don't want anything to do with him. He is a murderous freak who hates me, and I don't believe that he wants to reform for an instant."

"Draco, darling," Harry said dangerously, "you're the one who got her into this with him in the first place."

"Only to save your sexy little narrow arse,dearest."

"Blah! Enough!" Fred and George said in tandem, gagging.

"If you all are quite finished," a female voice said weakly from the sofa, "I'll thank you to stop discussing me as if I am not here and cannot take care of myself." She stood up. "I'm out of here. You know where to find me. And stop worrying, you prats." She walked over to the door, throwing it open to head up the flight of stairs to her own apartment.

"Miss?" said a very familiar house-elf standing on the doorstep, about to knock. "Dobby has been sent here to serve Miss Hermione, as a gift of Dobby's master..."

"Dobby?" Harry said incredulously. "Oh, Hermione, I never thought I'd see it. You seem to have a house-elf!"

Before Hermione could stop shaking her head, an owl landed on her shoulder. She took the note, reading it quickly. Her eyes were quite wide at the end.

"Dumbledore sent him to help me with Lucius," she whispered. "What is he playing at? What can a house-elf - no offense, Dobby - possibly do to help me with Lucius? And whose idea was this, anyway?"

"Oh," Dobby said, "Dobby can help miss very much, Dobby can cook, and clean, and make sure that he cannot leave Miss...oh, Mister Malfoy, sir..."

Draco waved at him. "I'm not my father, elf. You're safe here."

"Did I miss anything?" Ginny said brightly, walking up behind the house-elf. "Looks like the gang's all here. What did you have in mind, Dobby?"

~*~*~

"Lucius?" Hermione said, unlocking and opening the door to the apartment. Receiving no answer, she motioned Dobby into the room, winking at him.

"Ah, my dear," Lucius said, stepping out of her bedroom. "I was just making myself comfortable. It's late, darling, why don't you come to bed?"

She recoiled for a moment, willing herself not to hyperventilate. "This is not like that, Lucius. You're not in control of me anymore." She really wanted to mean that, but she wasn't entirely sure it was true, she realized with a sinking feeling as she looked into his cold eyes.

"Oh, but you cannot deny that Snape is very angry with you right now. Perhaps," he said soothingly, "it's over between the two of you. Such is the pity for him, but I'm still here. And how better to - redeem me - than to come to bed, dear heart?"

"Don't even," she whispered, "speak of him. You're not worthy to speak his name."

"Such lovely, misguided loyalty. All right, then," he said in his best haughty tone.

"I have a gift for you, Lucius. Dobby, you remember your old master. Well, as they say, the servant is the master now. Dobby, I ask you to bind yourself to this man for me, making sure that he does not escape this place while he is in our care."

"Dobby accepts," the former Malfoy house-elf said solemnly over the sputter of protest emanating from Lucius. "If Mister Malfoy is away from Dobby, if Mister Malfoy breaks the spell, there will be dire consequences."

"How dare you," Lucius hissed. " I will not be bound to a common house-elf!" Lucius knew that it was nearly impossible to break away from a house-elf once bound; it required external intervention in all cases of which he was aware. If he was to attempt it on his own, he would likely die a very horrible death. House-elves were servants, but they were very powerful magical creatures, and Lucius was well aware of how the tables had turned with this particular one.

"I'm afraid it's too late for you now unless I command it, and frankly you don't get to dictate any terms anymore - to anyone. I'm sure Dobby won't exact...much...revenge for your former treatment of him. And Lucius...just because I deigned to save you from Azkaban doesn't mean I'm yours now. I'm tired. You can sleep on the sofa." Ignoring the sputtering rage coming from her houseguest, Hermione went into her room and shut the door, collapsing onto her bed. She pulled out her wand and attempted to light her candles, but didn't even have enough magic left after the day to do that much. She couldn't think about what to do about Lucius yet. She shut her eyes, and the dreams of Severus's angry face came unbidden despite her attempts to shut thoughts of him out. Finally, she groaned and got up for a vial of the Dreamless Sleep he had brewed for her a month ago, still stoppered and labeled in his neat hand in her bedside table. She shook off thoughts of what they had done while the potion had brewed - it was simply too painful to contemplate now. After swallowing the vial, Hermione dropped off, her restlessness finally stilled.

Not far away, Snape stared at the dying fire in his private office, wishing for things that he knew could never be again. Unblemished and innocent words, exchanged in a state of near unreality. Professions of love - were they really love? He knew he harbored very unusual and intense - in his experience - feelings for her, but maybe he had misjudged them.

How could he be so angry and so hurt and yet so drawn to her, even now? Half of him was ready to bolt out the door and gallop towards Hogsmeade, to pound on the door and beg her forgiveness for his coldness. The other half was clinging to dignity and the half-certainty that he was right, and the chit of an idiot woman was taking the gift of life he had given her and was squandering it on that spawn of Hades that he knew was now sleeping in her very flat.

She saved your life too, you ungrateful arse, his subconscious railed. You're even now. The only one you owe is Malfoy, and she is attempting to make the debt up in your stead. The least you could do is stand by her.

"Fuck," he said miserably, and reached for Dreamless Sleep in the cabinet, taking it through the door into his rooms. He wanted to wallow in misery instead of listen to his subconscious, so it would be necessary to drown it out tonight. He remembered her, perched on the stool as he made this batch, telling him humorous stories of how she and her worthless friends had managed to outwit him a number of times when he had been her professor. Then, they had tended the cauldron together, using both of their wands to stir.

"It needs to simmer for an hour," he had said suggestively.

"Perfect," she breathed in his ear, "I have a little challenge for you..."

It seemed so long ago, but in reality it had only been a shade over a month. He uncorked the vial and drank, pitifully waiting for blackness to claim him as he settled into his lonely, too-large bed.

~*~*~

Wait, her mind said, this is supposed to be Dreamless Sleep. Right? Why are you dreaming?

She was standing in the Potions classroom at her old desk, staring at the table in the corner where he always sat during their classes when he wasn't stalking the room scaring the students. Not much had changed, really, other than that the classroom was empty and extremely tidy. Some poor little Hufflepuff with detention, no doubt, she thought privately. Spotless.

Suddenly, a door in the back of the room that she had never noticed creaked open. She was startled to see him walk through, rubbing his eyes and looking around. His eyes finally settled on her. He looked faintly disturbed. "Hermione," he said, "I can't imagine why, when I take Dreamless Sleep potion, I am still forced to see you in my dreams. I thought that was the whole point of Dreamless Sleep, to not be tormented in my sleep by Gryffindor women who don't know when to leave well enough alone."

"Oh, you're quite right, Severus," she replied acidly, "that is exactly what it's for. However, you appear to be having the same dream I am. I took some of the potion as well. I guess you're not quite up to snuff on your potions-making anymore for it to be failing so spectacularly."

"Ha! You made it with me, girl," he snorted, "so I'm afraid the blame rests with us both. But I can't really imagine how a Dreamless Sleep can go so awry." His Potions Master alter-ego was already working on a problem with a very complex solution, he was certain. He had never heard of a Dreamless Sleep potion that created shared dream states. It was a rather innocuous ingredient list. He'd have to look in the literature...

But meanwhile, the one person he didn't want to face was sitting on her old desk, watching him carefully. Dear Circe, why this now? He needed rest, not more desire and anger.

She suddenly slapped herself, hard.

"What in the hell are you doing?" he said, as she landed another blow on herself. A large bruise raised almost instantly.

"Trying to wake myself up," she spat. "I cannot stand another minute with you. Either turn around and leave or I'm going to beat myself senseless."

"You are truly insane," he whispered, backing away. "I'm in love with an insane woman."

"What did you say?" She turned around, stopping herself from another large slap on the right cheek. "You walked away from me when I needed you today. I don't think that's love."

He sighed, sitting on his desk. "I don't know what to say or feel or think anymore. We've been through too much."

She lost her anger in one swift stroke, walking over to him and putting his face between her hands. "Yes."

"You've got a bruise," he said, reaching up to touch her face. "Why did you hit yourself?"

"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I have a lot of anger issues these days."

"I'm sorry. I know I didn't help today. I'm just concerned and I don't know how to handle it properly."

She considered this, and pulled him into her arms. They stood there for some time, not speaking, while her tears flowed freely.

"Are we dreaming?" she finally said, sniffling.

"I really don't know, Hermione," he said, "but I will research this. I wonder..." he paused. "Let's do this again tomorrow night. It might be good for Lucius to think that we've broken it off."

"Hmmm," she said, massaging his shoulders, "you are so suspicious of him. I really believe in my heart that while he has some...problems with authority, he will come to us willingly."

"I don't believe it, but we will have to agree to disagree. I just feel it's important to let him think we are not together."

"Are we together? This isn't real life, is it?"

"Perhaps it's a dream. I don't know. But take the potion tomorrow night and we'll talk more, okay?" He found himself growing deeply tired, and saw her stifle a yawn. She fell asleep in his arms at the desk.

~*~*~

She awoke to a tapping on her door. "Hermione...are you all right? Hermione..."

She rubbed her temples, picking up her wand and waving it at the door. "Finite incantatem," she groaned to release the lock on the door. "Come in, Lucius."

He entered, holding a tray in his hand. "The house-elf prepared breakfast."

The night before's strange dreams came back in a rush as she reached out for the tray. "Thank you," she said. "We have to talk. I was in no condition last night."

"Nor was I. I'm sorry that I was so rude."

"You don't know any other way to be, Lucius."

"What do I have to do to learn how to be as civilized as the great Severus Snape and win your devotion?"

She ignored his ironic smirk. "We'll make a list. Number one is to treat Dobby and me with respect. Number two is to make up with Draco and apologize for putting him in that time-displacement with Harry. Number three..."

"Stop," Lucius said, covering his ears, "I may have to opt for Azkaban. One step at a time, my dear."

"Come on Lucius, how hard could it be? Snape is a good guy now, right? He learned."

"Humph. A good guy does not run out on the woman he cares about," Lucius said, watching her carefully.

"You're right, of course. No one is perfect," she said noncommitally, sipping a surprisingly decent cup of coffee. "I'm inviting Harry and Draco for tea."

"May gods and angels save me from Gryffindors," was his only comment, reminding her fleetingly of his nemesis.

~*~*~

Despite everyone's misgivings, Lucius played the perfectly penitent gentleman throughout the day and evening. He had shaken hands with Draco, then pulled him into a hug. He even shook hands with Harry. She had almost expected him to welcome Harry to the family.

He'd tried to mention Snape in a disparaging way a few times, but surprised her by not attempting any of his usual cheap moves when they found themselves alone at dinner. And he'd been downright civil to his former house-elf, astonishing her completely.

It was probably a little too perfect, all things told, but she was too exhausted to examine the day too closely. She really did not need Dreamless Sleep again, but she needed to see him. It took all the magic she was able to dredge up after the long, draining day to ward the door and summon the bottle. She fell asleep almost instantly.

Again, she found herself seated at her desk in the Potions classroom in the dream. She had to wait a few moments before Snape entered. He muttered something about one of his Slytherins in the hospital wing after a nasty hex thrown by a Ravenclaw. Privately, she wondered if the Slytherin had deserved it.

"So. This wasn't just a one-time occurrence," he said after a moment of holding her close. "How was Malfoy?"

"I hesitate to say this, but..."

"Did he hurt you? Tell me, Hermione, I'll hex his balls off."

"No. He was perfect today." She saw the look of mingling disappointment and relief on his face, and chuckled softly. "Are you happy I'm here, or did you wish I was hurt so that you could hex his balls off?"

"Both," he drawled, gripping her more tightly around the waist. "I think I know why we are having shared dreams under the influence of Dreamless Sleep."

The academic part of her mind nudged out the emotionally exhausted part. "What did you discover?"

"I think it's the lingering influence of Malfoy's potion. As it turns out, one of the ingredients in Slytherin's original formula is Oil of One-Eyed Thestral - it's used as part of the base that causes the link between the two subjects when the proper parts of each are added. It has a longer magical decomposition rate than any of the other ingredients I've identified, so even after being vanished, the effects still seem to linger."

Her eyes lit up as she followed his logic. "Of course! The magic inherent in any Thestral component reverses the effects of the wormwood extract in Dreamless Sleep, making it possible to dream! And because we created the Dreamless Sleep together, the link between us has been strengthened to create a shared dream state."

"So glad to see one Gryffindor paid attention in my class," he commented dryly. "Naturally, even though the potion was destroyed, such a Dark potion leaves traces of its effects. I don't recall ever reading of this type of reaction before because of the Dark elements involved, but it makes sense."

"Absolutely."

I haven't been able to resolve the metaphysical aspects, however."

"You mean, are we really here, or are we snug in our beds?"

"Such a gift for understatement of the subject at hand."

She touched his face, leaning in for a kiss. He closed his eyes, but jerked them open when the kiss never came. She was gone.

~*~*~

"What in the bloody hell..."

"Wake up..." someone was whispering.

"Lucius. God. How did you get in here? I warded..."

He snorted none-too-delicately. "Your magic is seriously lacking, my dear. It took me fifteen seconds to break in."

That was certainly something she hadn't wanted him to know. She could barely summon up the will to light a candle, much less put up a decent set of Locking Charms. "What do you want?"

"You were thrashing about in your sleep, love. I merely worried about you. You were quite out, and I found this." He held up a vial of Dreamless Sleep. "Sounds like you got the sleep part, but it certainly wasn't dreamless."

"It's none of your business."

"I've been sleeping with you - or someone much like you with a different face - for months. I know you. What's troubling you, dear heart?" She inwardly cringed at his familiarity.

"You don't know me as well as you think, Lucius. Nothing is wrong."

"Nonsense."

"Go away, or I swear I'll..."

"Or you'll...what? Hex me into next week? I suspect you can't even conjure up a decent Summoning Charm right now if your wards are any indication."

She knew he was right. "Leave me alone," she whispered. "I just need rest."

"I see," Lucius said, slowly. "I see. Darling, just lay back and let me rub your shoulders. That's all, I swear to you."

Now what in the hell was that all about? She was too tired to fight him. Against her better judgement, she allowed him to massage her shoulders, as sleep claimed her again. This time, her sleep was indeed dreamless. She shuddered as she woke up to the silky spill of blonde on the next pillow. How in the fuck...? She became angry at him for taking advantage of her last night to worm his way into her bed, and furious at herself for trusting him. Getting out of bed, she shook her hair out, walked into the kitchen, and lit the stove for tea with a flick of her wand. It was effortless. Startled, she walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. She changed her face - twice - flawlessly and easily. Expermenting, she waved her wand around the bathroom, muttering a cleaning charm, and was shocked to see the layer of dust fly into oblivion.

Whatever malady had been suppressing her magic seemed to have gone. But just to be safe, it wouldn't hurt to send an owl to Tonks to ask a niggling question.

~*~*~

Dear Tonks,

I hope this note finds you well.

Do you find that when you use your Metamorphmagus abilities a great deal in a short span of time, your magical energy depletes? Just curious. No rush on the answer.

Yours,

Hermione

____

Dear Severus,

I think you need to keep an eye on Hermione's place. I'm worried about her.

Tonks

____

Dear Tonks,

Mind your own business.

S.S.

____

Dear Hermione,

I don't use my abilities as much as you have. I'm afraid I can't be much help in the matter. But if you are feeling weak magically, might I suggest you tell Dumbledore? I would hate to think of you defenseless. Want me to come move in with you?

Love, N.T.

____

Tonks,

No, I'm fine. Really.

Hermione

____

Snape,

With all due respect, it's time to get your head out of your arse and take care of business. I talked with Tonks today, and we're worried. Tonks thinks that perhaps Hermione's magical energy has taken a dive lately. Pretty dangerous with a sociopath like Malfoy in her flat, isn't it?

Moody

____

Alastor,

With all due respect, fuck off.

SS

~*~*~

She yawned, stretching and pointedly looking at Lucius, who was reading old copies of The Quibbler in the firelight. Again, he'd been the perfect model of Death Eater redemption all day, which made her feel not a small amount of Gryffindor pleasure mixed with healthy suspicion. However, she had noticed as the day wore on that her magic waned significantly. She was quite sure she would not be able to put up any wards tonight after the unjudicious use of magic that morning upon discovering that she'd been able to use it again. "I'm going to bed."

He looked at her over his reading glasses. "Want me to come with you? Just to sleep, of course."

"Please," she muttered acidly, "give me a break. Dobby!"

"Yes, Miss Hermione?" the elf appeared out of thin air. "What can I do for Miss?"

"Make sure this git stays in his own bed tonight, Dobby."

"Yes, miss."

Hermione went into her room, using the actual mechanical Muggle door lock. The question of her magic was a puzzle, but one she dared not mention to Severus tonight. She dressed in her nightgown, rummaging in a drawer for her vials of Dreamless Sleep. She unstoppered one, drinking deeply and falling into an immediate slumber.

This time, she found herself seated in Dumbledore's office in the dream. "Strange," she said out loud.

"I'm afraid I asked Severus to allow me to join you," said Dumbledore, coming down the stairs. "I believe Professor Snape will be with us shortly...ah, Severus, do come in."

Scowling, Severus swept into the room and took the chair opposite Hermione as Dumbledore was seated in his usual chair behind the desk.

Dumbledore surveyed her over his half-moon glasses. "Why didn't you tell me about your magic?"

"I could say the same thing," Severus said, arms crossed over his chest. "Alone and defenseless with Malfoy...the way he likes it."

"She's hardly defenseless, Severus," Albus said, "I made sure of that. But we needed to know about your magic so we could take extra precautions."

Anger welled up in her, along with tears she vainly fought back. "It's none of anyone's business that I'm having problems! I'm just low on energy after all I've been through. It will pass."

"I'm removing Lucius from your care." Albus said.

"Dobby has him under control," she said dangerously, "that's why you sent him, correct? Let the elf do his job, and let me do mine."

"Why are you being so ridiculous, you foolish girl?" Severus exploded. "He belongs in Azkaban for the horrible things he's done. Let him bloody well go there."

"Severus Snape, that's the last fucking thing you had better think to call me," she hissed. "I had an upsurge in energy today. I'm fine. Things are going well. Get your big ugly nose out of my business!"

"My nose is beside the point. Is it so insane that I care about what happens to you? That I care that you are more concerned about another man's welfare than the one you claim to love?" Albus was uncharacteristically silent, but Severus was more furious than Hermione had ever seen him, including Black's escape in their third year.

"If you love me so much, why did you have to bring Dumbledore for backup? Were you so afraid to be alone with me?"

"I don't love you at all! What was I thinking? I just like to fuck a woman that half the Death Eaters laid claim to! For a galleon I could have you anytime, right?"

She felt as if she had been physically slapped; her soul had now taken its final battering, and she knew she had been defeated. "You had better take that back, Severus Snape. You know why I had to...what is the point?" She was screaming now. "We are through. Done! Do you hear me?"

"Oh, crystal clear, my dear. Get the fuck out of my dreamsI am finished with you."

She knew she was dreaming, so she found it quite easy to storm out, bypassing Dumbledore's Trapping Spell that he used to keep people in his office. She was done with them. Finite. She would show them all.

She stood outside the door, attempting to compose herself. She'd been so looking forward to seeing him just an hour ago, and he had to go and spoil it by laying guilt on her that she didn't need. And saying such utterly cruel things. Why was she bothering with the impossible man?

Hermione shivered in the dream-cold hallway, lowering herself against the stone wall. Because you love him, and you know he's right. Angry and disgusted, confused and frustrated, she cursed him. And herself, and her emotional weaknesses. She would expunge herself of the desire for that man, once and for all. She would show them all that she didn't need them.

She heard a voice calling, a hand shaking her body, very far away. She moved towards the voice, and found herself in another man's arms. She didn't look at him. She didn't want to think about it. She simply wanted to be in control - of something. Anything.

She took him to her, smoothing back his long hair, and did the one thing she knew how to do better than anything else. Her body was all she had left to call her own.

~*~*~

She lit the fire with a vengeance the next morning, and came face to face with Dobby. He hit his head fifteen times before she could restrain him.

"Dobby is a bad, bad elf."

"Dobby, you aren't. Stop that. You aren't bad. It's all right, Dobby."

"No, Miss Hermione! Dobby just...fell asleep...for a moment..."

"Dobby. Listen to me. You can't be awake all day and all night. I want you to stop worrying. I shouldn't have asked you to watch him last night."

Dobby was blubbering hysterically as Lucius came into the kitchen, looking rather smug. "You certainly made the right choice, my dear."

"Shut the fuck up, Lucius."

"Interesting choice of words. Snape is a fool."

She privately agreed.

"I can't deal with this right now. You're on your own. Dobby, stop looking at me like that. I'm going to go take my shower and maybe plunge a dagger through my heart. Just leave me alone." She ran into the bathroom. After a long look at her face, she Metamorphed into about five different appearances flawlessly. She settled for an old favourite - nondescript redheaded gentleman, one of Crabbe Senior's favorite whores - and Apparated away. She found herself at the worst pub in Knockturn Alley, drinking herself into a stupor for the rest of the day and waving off every manner of illicit liason until she could no longer hold her transformation. She barely enough energy to Apparate home - miraculously without a splinch - and pass out on the floor.

~*~*~

He waited for her in their dream, barely daring to hope that she would arrive. He had so much to say to her, so many apologies for the cruel things he had said and his terrible inability to take care of her when she needed him most. Above all, he simply wanted to hold her, to tell her he had been wrong, that he loved her, that he would do anything to help her troubled soul.

She never appeared. He silently stared at her chair, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. How did caring so deeply for someone else hurt so fucking much?

At least, he finally understood why he had never done this before. He wasn't entirely sure it was worth it. He slipped out into his chambers and back into the troubled sleep from which he could not escape.

~*~*~

When she awoke the next morning, she was again in Lucius' arms. Familiar violent disgust welled up in her, reminding her so clearly of her days as a whore for this man. Some things really hadn't changed.

"Good morning," he said. "The hangover potion I administered worked, I trust?"

"Sort of..." she trailed off. "Why are you in my bed again?"

"I was under the impression after the other night that I was now invited, my dear. But in this case, I believe it was self-preservation. I couldn't move."

"Where is..."

"Dobby felt he had been sufficiently bad as to return to his master. I assume he is receiving his punishment from Dumbledore as we speak. Stupid house-elves, I really don't know what you see in them."

"What did you do yesterday, Lucius?" The entire day was fuzzy to her, but parts of it were returning, such as the trip down Knockturn Alley.

"Some research, my dear. Something you'll be quite interested in, I'm sure."

"And that is...?"

"Your magic. I know why it ebbs and flows."

"Why?" She was sufficiently wary, but her head was fuzzy and pounding. She fleetingly wondered about this supposed hangover cure.

"I'm not entirely sure if you'll like the answer. The fault rests with me on both counts. And more shockingly, I actually feel concern about it."

She rubbed her eyes, getting out of bed and pushing down revulsion at the fact that her weakness had caused her to sleep with her would-be killer, semi-willingly, for three nights in a row. "Nothing you can say will shock me anymore."

"I'm certain of that. I had a nice visit from a few of your friends yesterday, including my son, while you were off drowning your sorrows."

She rummaged in a cabinet, resurfacing with a bottle of vodka. "Something tells me I'll need a hair of the dog."

Gently, Lucius took the bottle from her. "Hermione, you have done something no one ever could possibly accomplish - would never have done - something utterly insane. You believed in me. I didn't recognize the sacrifices you had made, and at first I tried not to care. I buried them under the self-centredness that seems to be an inherent part of my personality. I looked at this," he waved his hand around the room, ending with a long elegantly manicured finger pointed at Hermione, "as a well-orchestrated reprieve from my just due in prison, and as an excuse to have you to myself. I believed I could break you, and make you stay with me. I rejoiced when Snape walked away from you. I reveled in the hurt that sent you into my bed again. But after talking to your friends, who care very deeply about you, I was forced to admit that I actually care what happens to you. I felt...something very unfamiliar...shame. I've hurt you, and for the first time in my life, that worries me. I actually have real feelings about it. And in a rather heated conversation with your friends and my son yesterday, I had - well, for me, an epiphany."

"It couldn't have been much of one. You were still in my bed this morning after taking advantage of a stupid fool who couldn't say no."

"I slept in here because you were crying, Hermione. You were insensate, certainly - blacked out on too much cheap liquor. I held you until you fell asleep, and then couldn't move my arm. That's all. I regret...how I took advantage the other night...it was wrong."

"Whatever, Lucius. This is another one of your ploys to make me feel sorry for you. I don't have the capacity anymore." She took her wand out, zapping flies on the ceiling, wondering why it felt so familiar and comforting to do so. "You said you knew what was going on with my magic. I'm having an awfully hard time trusting you after all we've been through, but tell me."

"Come into the parlour," he said. She obeyed, and found Harry, Draco, and Ginny sitting in the room waiting for her.

"Dear gods," she said, closing her eyes. "A fucking intervention led by Lucius Malfoy? Now that is rich."

"Just listen, girl," Draco growled. "For once."

"Hermione," Lucius began, "I'm afraid this is complicated, but I know how to fix things."

"Skip the complicated," Hermione said. "My head hurts."

"You need to get back together with Snape," Harry said quietly. "He holds the key to your recovery."

She goggled at Harry. "Sure. Whatever. Make sense, okay? What does he have to do with this problem? He's a son of a..."

"Let me explain," Ginny interrupted. Lucius nodded at the girl he had once tricked into bringing Tom Riddle back from the dead. "Like it or not, all magical people are human - not superhuman. Just humans that are tapped into unique abilities. Being homo sapiens, we are occasionally subject to ailments and maladies that Muggles get - we just don't always recognize it as such. And sometimes, those maladies affect our magic as well as other parts of us."

Hermione's intellectual curiosity finally won over hung-over surliness. "Okay, and this has to do with me how..."

"You've been through a tremendous amount of life-threatening stress in a very short time," Ginny said. "It has been my theory that you are suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"That's where I come in," Lucius said softly, "I caused most of that stress."

Ginny continued, "You've had mood swings and magic swings. You fell in love with Snape, but expressed it in an all-or-nothing way. You couldn't reconcile your attraction to, and simultaneous hatred for, Lucius, so you've channeled all your available emotional energy into somehow redeeming him to get the whole mess off your conscience. You didn't want anyone to think you weak, so you've put up a facade of strong, while all the while your magical energy and your very person has crumbled inside. Sound familiar?"

"Why did my magic come back the last three days?" Hermione challenged.

"Negative emotion has sustained it," Lucius said. "You were disgusted and angry with yourself and me, and your anger took over and dredged up reserves of magical energy. We're always more powerful when we are experiencing intense, focused emotion - hatred, love, joy, even self-hatred. You've woken up next to me for three days in a row, and look how your magic returned. I can't flatter myself and think the intense emotion was happiness."

"Too right," she smirked, throwing a pillow at him. What they were saying made sense, but what did Snape have to do with it?

"Hermione," Draco said seriously, "everyone knows you really love that horrible snarky git. If you allow yourself to get rid of the other responsibilities in your life, and just go to him and rest and recover with him, I think you'll both emerge intact. I think love will bring your magic back. We've all agreed it is the best way to help your magic...and I've arranged to have you see a psychiatrist whose brother is a wizard and knows our world, as well, to help with your psyche."

"We've..all? Who is we?"

"Well, Snape hasn't agreed. He doesn't even know we're here," Ginny said sheepishly.

Hermione sighed. "Thanks, everyone, for caring so much. I don't know what to say, honestly, but you are the best friends any witch could ever ask for. It's going to take me some time to process what you've said, Ginny. Now if you don't mind..." she indicated the fact that she was still in her nightgown and slippers.

Harry grinned. "Don't worry, I don't play for that team. I'm pretty sure Ginny doesn't either..."

"Not that, you git. Go home. Thank you, so much, for your help." They all put up their hands in obiescence and retreated, hugging her, and soon she was left with just Lucius.

"Sickle for your thoughts," he said quietly. "Do you hate me?"

She shook her head. "I should. I just don't have the energy. I think I'm going to tell Dumbledore that you're rehabilitated and get rid of you, if it's all the same."

"Don't bother, my dear," said a quiet voice from the chair in the corner.

"Dumbledore?" she said, startled. "When did you...?"

"Dobby alerted me to a...situation...I'm glad to see it's resolved. Lucius, go to my office, please. At the Ministry, not Hogwarts. Take your things with you."

Lucius may have spent nearly fifty years hating the Headmaster, but he knew a command that should be obeyed unquestioningly when he heard it. Within minutes, he was gone, leaving Dumbledore and Hermione alone in the parlour.

"I'm afraid I owe you a very large apology, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at the floor. "No more than I owe you, Professor."

"I made a mistake not seeing that you needed more than we were able to give you. We've used you, and used you, until you have been used up, I'm afraid."

She knew it was true, but she hated seeing the pain in the old man's eyes. She was angry, but not just at him or the Order or even Lucius and Snape. She had made her bed, so to speak, and it was past time to lie in it.

"I don't know when to ask for help," she whispered. "I've always preferred to go it alone. I've hurt myself in the process."

"You're fortunate to have friends who want only the best for you, my dear. They've made me see what a terrible position we've allowed you to get into, and I plan to remedy the situation. Starting now."

"How, sir?" Almost before she finished her short query, she saw Fawkes approach. He landed on her shoulder. Dumbledore continued speaking.

"Fawkes can temporarily restore your health and your magic today. The rest is up to you and what you wish to do about your feelings for Severus. When he claimed your soul to save you from death, each of you were gifted with the ability to restore the other. When circumstances created the ability to dream each other's dreams, the bond between you grew stronger and much more profound. If you go to him, Hermione, you can be made whole again. And...he can be made whole, as well."

"Is something wrong with him?" Worried, she stroked Fawkes' beautiful plumage.

"Yes, my dear, I'm afraid there is. You see, his heart is broken."

She bristled. "And this is a concern to me why? He told me he had no use for me anymore. Why shouldn't I believe him?"

Dumbledore had a faraway look in his eyes. "The two of you have a bond that is unbreakable, my dear. I think it's time that you both gave each other something that neither of you have been able to summon, even for your best friends."

She looked quizzically at him, before she realized what he was getting at. Nodding at him, she closed her eyes and visualized the tall man that haunted her dreams.

~*~*~

"Why are you here, Miss Granger? I thought I made it fairly clear that I had no desire to see you again." She had landed in the middle of his private office, and waited for him to arrive from his last class of the day. After the shock had worn off, his bristle had become quite evident.

"You have no reason to trust me. I've done nothing to earn it. Correct?" she said wearily.

He considered her for a moment. "I askedyou to trust me, and you never did. I cannot take what I cannot give."

"You never trusted me, either. You doubted me when I let go of your hand. You couldn't imagine that I would do the right thing."

"And, did you do the right thing?" He closed his eyes, knowing what the answer was, but dreading it all the same.

"No, Severus. I did not. I am a weak, fallible human being who makes mistakes. Which means I am in need of forgiveness and absolution."

He sighed, resisting her pull. "You'll have to go elsewhere to receive it. This is not a clerical collar, Miss Granger."

She touched his hand softly. "Will you consider that I genuinely need you? That I cannot imagine my life without you? That I have made mistakes, and I wish to make supplication upon whatever altar you deem fit to ask that you consider my request?"

He was taken aback. "You seemed to make it clear in our dream that you needed no one."

"I was angry. I was wrong," she said, "and this is no longer a dream. This is reality. Can you take me as I am? We've both made terrible sacrifices and mistakes. We both have black and blue souls. I think it's time to start healing."

They considered each other in a long silence, while tears streamed down her face. Finally, she took his silence as leave, and turned to go. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

His hands on her shoulders stopped her. "Hermione," he said with a gutteral growl, "what about Lucius Malfoy?"

She turned to him. "I've done my duty. He is free. And, Severus, so am I. It's over. He has relinquished his hold on us. We are free, as well."

"Do you love him?" Severus asked, his eyes downcast.

"I hate him. I pity him. I care about him. But I do not love him," was her honest response. "I reserve my love only for you, you great git."

He finally let out the breath he had been holding since the adventure began. "I love you, too. Oh, the gods have mercy on my soul, I love you so."

"Then shut up and kiss me."

~*~*~

"So, your magic is fully restored?" Harry said as they sipped butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione changed into fifteen different people before settling back into her normal state. "As good as new. And the Muggle psychiatrist has pronounced me well on my way to full recovery."

"That's great, Hermione," Draco said, wagging a finger. "Promise me you won't go off whoring again without me, okay?"

"Christ, Draco. Don't even make me retch."

"Speaking of retching," Harry whispered conspiratorially, "guess who Lucius has taken up with now that you've broken his feeble heart?"

"Oh God, Harry, please don't start." Draco covered his ears, singing Lalalalala at the top of his lungs to the amusement of Madam Rosmerta.

"You got me," she said, surprisingly feeling not the least bit of emotion. "Who?"

"Tonks!" Harry exclaimed giddily, "can you imagine Lucius with an Auror? Who the hell knew?"

"He just really likes to have a whole harem to himself," she said, "sleeping with a Metamorphmagus certainly ensures variety..."

Draco excused himself, making false retching sounds. "Are you really okay, honey?" Harry said.

"For the first time in my adult life, Harry, I'm ...just fine." She smiled a genuine smile, looking at the silver ring on her finger and thinking about her plans for later on that evening in the Hogwarts dungeons.