Quick note: Many of the canon characters in this story that only play minor roles are based on Clio's interpretation of them in her story, Eight Ways From Sunday which can be found in the Schnoogle section of FAP at www.fictionalley.org. As most of her characters only appear as cameos here (apart from Hermione who is totally different in this story), I don't feel too bad about borrowing them. However, I wanted to acknowledge her influence on my work. (As one of the betas for Eight Ways From Sunday, I guess it was inevitable!) Anyway, please go and take a look at her wonderful story as it's very well written, very hip and packed with canon character romances.

Once again, thank you to my reviewers to date. You're the best.





Chapter Twelve

For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.

Psalm 61:3

After breakfast, Hermione said she was going to have a sleep. Snape went back downstairs to finish 'Dracula' hoping it would give him some ideas on how to deal with Voldemort. Hermione crept over to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder and whispered, "Hogwarts". A second later she was stepping out into Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Miss Granger. How nice of you to visit during summer holidays!" Dumbledore said. "I just ordered some hot scones for morning tea so please join me," he said invitingly, indicating a chair. She smiled at her old Head Master, took an offered plate and sat down. "Now, how can I help you today?" He asked kindly, after he'd poured the tea.

"It's Professor Snape, sir." Hermione said, swallowing a bite of her scone. "He was in awful pain last night because of that blasted Dark Mark. They were having a meeting or some such thing and he didn't go but his arm was hurting him so much that he passed out," she explained, distressed.

Dumbledore did a rare thing; he frowned. "He passed out, you say?" Dumbledore clarified. Hermione nodded miserably. "What did you do?" he asked sympathetically.

"Gave him some of the morphine my parents kept in the house rather than at their surgery," Hermione said.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "Thank you, Hermione. That was very kind and very sensible," Dumbledore said reassuringly. Hermione felt better. She wasn't sure she shouldn't have contacted Dumbledore immediately and let him deal with it but she was glad Dumbledore thought that she'd done the right thing.

"Professor Snape is saying that he needs to go to the next meeting now, sir. He received an owl this morning sealed with a Dark Mark." She shrugged. "I'm sure Professor Snape is going to come and tell you all this himself very shortly."

"Yes, I'm sure he will Miss Granger. You're not telling me anything he won't tell me himself soon enough," the Professor nodded. "Have you discussed your animagus with Professor Snape yet, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked, when Hermione was silent.

She looked up sharply. No, she hadn't. Even more interestingly, Snape had never brought up the subject with her even though he'd seen her both nights in her animagus form and she'd completed her assignment.

"No, sir. I take it that Professor Snape told you about it?" She murmured into her tea.

"Yes, Hermione. Do you understand the nature of the beast that you become?" He asked with concern.

"No sir. There is very little written about them," Hermione said with a sigh, putting down her tea cup.

He smiled gently. "That's because they are so very rare that no-one has ever had the chance to study them but as you now know, they are not just legends but real creatures."

"Are they all animagus?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh no. I've never heard of a black unicorn animagus before. Perhaps it has happened but it's never been documented," Dumbledore explained.

"If they are so rare, how do they come about? There can't be enough of them for them to breed normally," Hermione asked analytically.

"They are really normal unicorns that have been exposed to some kind of real evil at a very young age and over a long period as they grow. This taints them and changes their nature," he explained carefully.

"Changes their nature how?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"Rather than been repulsed by evil or impurity the way normal unicorns are, they are attracted to it." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, stirring his tea.

"Attracted to it?" Hermione said, looking revolted.

"Oh, not for its own sake but because it wants to heal the evil." Dumbledore clarified.

"Can it?" Hermione asked intently.

"Oh yes but at great personal sacrifice always," he said sadly.

"They die?" Hermione asked cautiously, unsure of her ground.

"No, they lose their magical abilities." Dumbledore said. "Their horns drop off, their eyes turn black and they are unable to heal any other great evil in the future. They become very similar to an ordinary horse. The only thing they retain is their wisdom."

"That doesn't seem too great a sacrifice," Hermione remarked.

Dumbledore smiled. "My dear, if you are used to being a magical creature it is very hard to become reconciled to being an ordinary one. How would you feel if you lost your natural magical ability and became a Muggle again?" He asked quietly.

"It would be hard," she acknowledged honestly. "But think of the rewards for everybody! Evils like Voldemort could be stopped."

Dumbledore smiled. "I knew you'd see it that way as a brave, head strong, impulsive Gryffindor but it is a huge sacrifice."

"Is that what would happen to an animagus black unicorn, do you think?" Hermione asked. "I mean, would I lose all my magical powers and become a Muggle?"

"No, I fear it would be worse my dear. No-one knows for sure but I suspect you would lose your human nature entirely and stay a unicorn forever," Dumbledore said cautiously.

A chill spread over Hermione's body, starting at the nape of her neck and creeping down her spine and out to every extremity. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end. "I'd. I'd never be able to be myself again? I'd just be a black unicorn until I died?" She repeated slowly, her expression horrified.

She thought about it. She could never talk to her friends again because she would have no speech. She could never live with people again, she'd be in the Dark Forest for the rest of her life. She could never study to find out all the things she wanted to know. She could never fall in love, never have familiar things around her, never have a career, never do any of the human things she enjoyed. She felt a bit sick at the thought.

"My dear, you must never contemplate doing this thing." Dumbledore said softly. "Not ever. It's not necessary. Voldemort can be defeated by other methods that would not involve such sacrifice."

"People are dying everyday because of Voldemort," Hermione said bitterly.

"Yes but in some ways, it is easier to die in the fight against evil than to make the kind of sacrifice we're talking about here. Especially when you are still so young and can be of so much use to the wizarding world in other ways. You will be more useful to us with your human nature intact," he said decisively.

"But if Voldemort is defeated, finally once and for all then there won't be need for smart witches and wizards in the fight against him. The whole wizarding community will be free." She argued.

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Trust me, my dear. There are better ways than that."

Hermione's head was spinning and she couldn't think straight. She had a feeling that what Dumbledore was saying was true in part but wasn't the whole truth. She couldn't put a finger on the gap in his logic however, with her head going around in circles. "I should go before Professor Snape knows I'm not in the house," Hermione said, putting down her tea cup and plate. "Thank you for the chat and for tea," she added politely.

Dumbledore smiled at her in a fatherly way and waved good-bye as she stepped into the fireplace. "I have a feeling I shouldn't have told her my suspicions Fawkes," he said to his bird companion. The phoenix looked at him out of one firey eye and seemed to agree.

* * *

When Hermione got back, Snape was waiting for her. "Where have you been?" He demanded, as she stepped out of the fireplace.

Hermione was about to say 'none of your business' but she knew very well that he'd just turn around and remind her that is was his business as he was her guardian. She decided honesty would be the next most annoying thing to him. "I went to see Dumbledore," she said calmly.

"Why?" He insisted, beginning to pace. His flannette shirt billowed behind him the way his cloak had done before.

"I wanted to make sure I'd done the right thing last night," she sighed, going to flop down on the couch.

"Were you tattling to Dumbledore about my business?" He said nastily with a frown, glaring at her.

"Oh, like you weren't going to go and see him at the first opportunity yourself about it." Hermione said, deciding attack was the best line of defence.

"Yes, I was but that's none of your concern," he said coldly. Hermione decided to be an irritating teenager and merely rolled her eyes at him. It infuriated Snape not to be taken seriously. "What exactly did you discuss with him?" He asked, seeming to draw up to an even greater height, his dark eyes piercing as they pinned her to the couch. Hermione was unimpressed. He'd tried this routine on her too many times during her 7 years at Hogwarts to be impressed by it anymore.

"Actually, we talked about black unicorns." She said, deciding to drop that particular bomb sooner rather than later. The silence stretched between them as Snape felt an icy sensation creep up his spine. He had an awful foreboding about what Hermione would do with the information that Dumbledore would have given her; especially when she was still so young, head strong and idealistic.

"Really," he said in a quiet voice. Hermione knew he was more dangerous when he was quiet and she narrowed her eyes, waiting for whatever he was about to throw at her. "And what did he tell you about black unicorns?" He said, sitting down in a chair near her.

"More than you," she snapped, feeling annoyed.

"Which was?" He countered swiftly, refusing to let her de-rail him.

"He told me I could destroy Voldemort in my animagus form," she said bluntly, glaring at him. Snape wanted to swear viciously but he held his tongue. Hermione watched as his face darkened with some strong emotion and he got up with almost violent swiftness from his chair to pace rapidly up and down the room. He cursed Dumbledore mentally. The Head Master did not know Hermione as well as he now did. She was exactly the type to be a martyr for the cause, if she felt it was a genuine solution. "Why didn't you tell me? You knew first!" Hermione said accusingly.

He glanced at her forbiddingly from across the room. "I didn't tell you because you're an impulsive, idealistic, little fool!" Snape said harshly.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She yelled back, her eyes narrowed.

"You are one of those insufferable Gryffindors who thinks they can save the world by being a bloody martyr, that's why. You're exactly the type of person who honestly believes in the ridiculous notion of heroism," he snapped viciously.

"I may not save the world but I can stop Voldemort," she said, suddenly very still.

"Oh, stop being so annoyingly self-sacrificing. There's no need for it and it doesn't impress me," he said flatly.

"Who's trying to impress you? It's not about you, believe or not. It's about a real solution to a real problem," she said evenly, her face tense.

Snape's jaw tightened. "It's all that time you spent with that bloody Potter, isn't it? He's filled your head with dreams of heroism and simple solutions," he spat.

"Why are you jealous of him?" Hermione asked with sudden insight.

Snape stared at her disbelievingly. "Jealous? Of Potter? You must be mad!" Snape said, barely able to get the words out.

"You know, he has saved the wizarding community from Voldemort on several occasions risking his own life to do it. He is a real hero and you hate it, don't you? Because if he's a hero, doing what he did then what does that make you having been a Death Eater?" She said mercilessly.

Snape felt as though she'd walked up to him and punched him in the face. He was furious. "You think everything is so straightforward and simple, don't you? Potter is good because he's defeated Voldemort and I'm bad because I once served him. Nothing is that simple, Hermione. Grow up. Potter does what he does because he wants revenge on Voldemort for killing his parents. I did what I did for my own good reasons. You can't judge whose reasons are the most noble out of the two of us," he spat.

"You're right, Professor. Nothing is that simple. Harry may want revenge on Voldemort but he also wants to stop him hurting anyone else. You say you had good reason for what you did but you also liked feeling better than the 'mudbloods', didn't you? Why don't you admit you're a nasty elitist?" Hermione spat right back. Snape was learning something else about Hermione. She was pitiless in an argument.

"You don't understand as much as you think you do, Hermione. You're still a child," he said, shaking his head. Hermione let the silence stretch between them so he could think about that last remark. Red crept over Snape's cheekbones as he realised he had just called the person he kissed so passionately two nights ago, a child. She certainly hadn't felt like a child when he'd held her against him and kissed her. The colour in his cheeks deepened and he deliberately squashed the thought.

"I want you to take me to the next Death Eater meeting," Hermione said slowly and clearly. Hermione wanted to spy on the Death Eaters. She reasoned that it may get to the stage eventually where her animagus ability to absorb evil may be the only solution in the fight against Voldemort and if things ever came to that, she wanted to know and have direct access to the deranged leader of the Death Eaters herself. Hermione was not the slightest bit interested in Snape's assignment regarding spying on the assembly, she had entirely her own reasons.

His dark eyes blazed to life. "No! Never! I'm not taking you to one of those. those. You're not a pureblood, Hermione. They'd kill you or far worse," Snape said sharply. His stomach turned to ice at the mere thought. He was startled at the fear that gripped him when he thought of Hermione being caught by a pack of Death Eaters.

"I meant using Harry's invisibility cloak," Hermione clarified, still utterly determined.

He was shaking his head. "No! No way. Not ever. Understand? Don't even think about it," he hissed, dark eyes blazing across the dimly lit room at her.

"Where is the danger if they can't see me?" She demanded petulantly, frustrated by his insistence.

"A million things could go wrong and you could be discovered, Hermione. Just forget about it. I don't want to hear you mention it again," he said with finality. Hermione snorted but said nothing further. She would make her own plans. "I'm going to see Dumbledore myself now," he said, taking some floo powder and throwing it in the fireplace. A second later, he was gone.