Author's note: Okay, I'm not one to reveal my plans, but I had a serious case of –change-of-heart syndrome a few nights ago so this is the result. I'd also like to point out that Deb still has a few tricks up her sleeve so don't discount her just yet. That's all I ask.

And one other thing…if you're a physics person, I'm very sorry…I have no idea if what I've written makes sense, or a complete load of crap, just go with it…ignore your Muggle side and embrace the magic!

And just very quickly, for those people who have asked me questions:

SlytherinQueen87 – I didn't want anyone to get the feeling that the musical was anywhere near the back of Deb's mind, so I decided to put that scene in. I know it isn't the greatest writing, but hey, Jane needs to do some mindless work every now and then.

Phoenix Flight: NO NO NO, there will be no sex! Rest assured, I'm twisted, but not quite that twisted.

Becky – don't worry, Draco has his part to play…I haven't forgotten him.

A NOTE TO ALL: everyone, please note I'm not telling you if there'll be a relationship here, let alone between who, so please…trust me…you've enjoyed the story so far, so trust that I've thought this through…it may not be what you wanted, but hopefully won't be what you expected.

Aaaaaand I must say Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I really love hearing anything, really Anything anyone has to say. I love it!

So on that note…we continue….

Everything, apart from minor additions here and there, belongs to they who must be deeply respected, JK Rowling and George Bernard Shaw. All thanks to them and my computer.

Chapter 7 – Mastermind's Masterpiece

Hermione had a whole two weeks to adjust to her new schedule… Tuesday night lessons with Deb, Saturday mornings to practice Eliza with Severus and Deb, Sunday afternoons and evenings to work on the potion… or not really the potion yet, but the theory they needed to work out what was going in the potion. It was long, slow, tedious work, and seemingly unending, but they were doing it… gradually.

She even had time to spend with her friends. She, Harry, Ginny and Ron had visited Hagrid on the last Sunday morning. He'd kindly offered them one of his new culinary creations, which they had kindly refused and sipped only at their tea.

When Harry had told Hagrid that Hermione was Eliza, he thumped her happily on the back.

"Well done, Hermione!" He smiled, "No one could do it better than you! You'll be a right fancy Doolittle, you will."

"That's not all," Ron said angrily, "She knows who Professor Higgins is going to be and she won't tell us!"

Hagrid chuckled at Ron and replied, "Let 'er alone Ron, she's got a right to privacy is she wants it."

"But we want to know—" Ginny started.

"Never mind," Hagrid cut her off, "You'll find out soon enough I excpec'."

"Which reminds me," Ron said, "What are you going to do about dancing with Malfoy?" Ron sounded very anxious, as though Hermione was going to die if she danced with him.

Hagrid winked at her, and Hermione had a feeling he knew, but reminded herself that there were four people who knew: Deb, Severus, Dumbledore, probably, and herself.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, "I suppose I'll close my eyes, grit my teeth and hold my breath til it's over. There isn't anything else I can really do about it, is there?"

"You know," Harry said pensively, "We haven't heard much from dear old Draco in the past few weeks. I would've thought he'd be breathing down our necks, trying to sniff out something to tell Daddy."

"Maybe Daddy's told him to keep out of it." Ginny suggested.

"Maybe he doesn't want to get turned into a ferret," Ron muttered viciously. Ever since they'd learned how to transfigure people at the end of last year, he'd threatened to take a leaf out of Mad-Eye-Moody/Barty Crouch Jnr's book. He was yet to come through on the threat.

They continued to chat and laugh together until lunchtime, when Hagrid offered them lunch and Hermione politely excused herself to her work with Professors Snape and Daniels, though she first intended to eat lunch in the Great Hall. Ron, Harry and Ginny were left to fend for themselves.

Her hiatus from life was abruptly intruded upon by a wild-eyed face as she was finishing the last of her pudding.

 "Hermione! Oh wonderful, I have something fascinating to share with you." Deb had taken her by the arm very suddenly and led her away from the Gryffindor common room and towards her office. "How much physics do you know?"

"Not very much," she replied sheepishly as they walked up the stairs.

"Never mind, I'll explain when we get upstairs."

The walked to Deb's office in silence, where Hermione took a seat facing Deb's desk, and Deb in her chair behind it. She waved her hand and a whiteboard rolled forward.

"Forgive me for not using a blackboard, but I hate the damn things. Anyway, do you know what momentum is?"

"Sort of."

"I'll take that as 'I don't want to really tell you that I don't.' Momentum is the force with which something is traveling, or in other words, how much energy is needed to move the particle from it's path…and the formula is mass by velocity," Deb stood up and wrote it on the whiteboard: Momentum=mc, "m for mass, c for velocity, don't ask why. Now, do you know kinetic energy? Just answer yes or no."

"No."

"Kinetic energy has to do with the speed of the particle…the faster it goes, the more kinetic energy. The formula for that is mass by velocity squared and all divided by two," and she wrote that formula out: Kinetic Energy = (mc²)/2.

"Okay, so the next one is rest energy. I doubt you'll know that one from your track record so, rest energy is the energy required to create the particle…and the formula is…" and she scribbled it down, seemingly in a hurry to get through it: Rest Energy = mc²

"Alright, now we're up to the important part…This is just a theory, possibly a helpful one to us, but we'll see. Just, humor me, Okay?"

"Alright."

"Okay, up until now, this was accepted physics theory…nobody endeavored to take it further, and that's because nobody needed to. The muggles know no other energies and our community doesn't give a brass razoo for these things. But, if we follow the above pattern, magical energy, the energy required to move or change a particle in any way should have the formula 2 mc². And that is the energy that is transmitted by our wands, and it is directed at a particular object, matches it's energy to neutralize and override."

Hermione followed the logic: Firstly divided by two, then by one the multiplied by two.

"But how do you know that's what magical energy is?"

"I don't…I made it up…that's what a theory is…made up. But, if we also define life-force as 2 mc², that means we've explained the Avada Kedavra curse."

"Excuse me?"

"If our life-force is 2mc², and magical energy is 2mc², that means that is exactly what the Avada Kedavra curse is. It's the neutralization of the life-force."

"Then how did Harry Voldemort escape alive from the reflected Avada Kedavra curse."

"Harry escaped because his mother left a field of neutrally charged particles to deflect the curse. Her neutralized life-force, if you will. Voldemort escaped because of the potion he took. My family's potion, I believe, increases the life-force of a person to 3mc², but only temporarily. Professor Snape was able to change it to be a permanent switch to a life-force of 3mc², so when the deflected curse hit him, his was reduced to a force of mc², just barely enough to survive on, and yet not enough to kill. We don't have the capability to kill him at that state, because our wands fire only magical energy of 2mc². But, seeing as though it appears that my family's potion increases the life-force by mc², he will be made mortal, and then we just finish him off. "

"I'm confused," Hermione crossed her arms, "What life force does Voldemort have now?"

"mc²."

"Even with that renewal ceremony he did with Harry's blood?"

"That was only for his body, not his magical power. Remember Voldemort has no understanding of what we're talking about here. He works by magical premises, formulae we both learned at school, nothing more. He doesn't understand that he isn't fully returned to his original power."

"So how was he able to function as a wizard? If his wand worked, which it did, he must have had a fair bit of energy."

"Yes, he did. Remember even mc² is a great deal of energy in relation to the force of man. A wand doesn't require half so much energy as a trigger. Remember the wand doesn't actually use the life force as much as use it as a trigger. Like a match for a fire. Only need a little spark to burn a whole house down."

"Will this work?"

"Maybe…won't know unless we try."

"There don't seem to be any flaws in calculation…just a lot of…assumptions…leaps of faith."

"Yah…but we might as well give it a shot, eh?"

"Isn't that a bit….a bit of a gamble?"

"Going to war is always a gamble. Research itself is always a gamble. Thinking outside the square is always a gamble. Yes, it is a gamble, Hermione, but we have no choice. We have no other solutions. Harry is only learning to defend himself. He's learning to cast Avada Kedavra but he can't kill Voldemort without this. If we trust my theory, Harry needs the potion to make the spell work."

"You have a lot of theories."

"I do…but I'm almost sure this one's right. Let's ask you dear Headmaster." She threw a handful of blue powder into the empty grate of a nearby fireplace and blue flames shot up.

"Albie," she called into the flames, "Got something for you."

Dumbledore appeared almost instantly at the door.

"Good evening, what might you have for me Professor Daniels?"

"Please, Albie," she pleaded, "Don't call me that. Do you hear me calling you that? Now look at this board and tell me what you think."

Dumbledore approached the whiteboard and examined it, his bright blue eyes perusing the formulae. His brow furrowed at the lower ones, and for some time he was silent. And then he chuckled, a soft, warm, victorious chuckle.

"Deborah, this is the answer."

"Do you think so?" she asked skeptically.

"I couldn't have come up with it Deb, but I know that it's right. This will work. If Severus slips your potion to Voldemort and Harry casts Avada Kedavra, Voldemort will…die."

The last three words almost seemed surreal. No one had used that word in relation to Voldemort for some time now, almost afraid that mentioning the word strengthened Voldemort's immunity to it.

For a moment they all stood, faces blank, not quite daring to believe it. Suddenly Deb jumped and punched the air with furious and victorious pride…and again, and again.

"I did it! I did it! Deb's the one that did it!" she sang happily. "I'll go and tell Severus to stop scribbling away at those damn charts and start-a-brewing us a Daniels distillation!"

Deb skipped away, still shooting out waves of absolute triumph, leaving Dumbledore and Hermione in her wake.

"A proud young woman," Dumbledore nodded to himself, "But I must admit she has a right to that pride."

"Professor, is there anything she can't do?" Hermione asked, not quite sure if she was serious.

"Hermione, I must tell you I'm inclined to say no. But even Merlin had his weak spots.  I think we will find Deb is no different. The greater the soul, the greater the pain after all. Some time in the future, we will see what she is truly made of, I suspect." Dumbledore was silent for a moment, glancing at a few of the books in Deb's piles, flicking them open for a moment and skipping over the words, "And how are you enjoying your lessons with Deb?" Dumbledore inquired eventually.

"Fantastic, even though I've had…one, I think." Hermione was suddenly enthusiastic about the one thing she had been sure of, "But she's a brilliant teacher, and there isn't a question she cannot answer. And I don't have to take notes, which is always a bonus."

"I thought you were an advocate of notes and essays and all the accompanying academic practices." Dumbledore smiled, a bright glint in his eye.

"I was…I mean I am, but the things she teaches me don't need notes, they just stay in my mind, just the way she said they would."

Dumbledore's eyes glowed like bright blue sapphires. He said nothing in reply, and silence invaded as Dumbledore examined the theory. Hermione looked at it once more. "Professor?" she asked meekly.

"Yes Hermione?"

"This all seems far too…small…How can such a small formula be the answer to such a big problem?"

Dumbledore moved away from the board and sat in Deb's desk-chair, signaling to Hermione to take a seat in front of the desk.

"That formula isn't the answer Hermione. The formula is only part of the answer. In fact, it's only the path to the answer. Now that we have this information we can formulate a solution to the Voldemort predicament. However, this formula is the answer to a different question."

"Which question, Sir?"

"An age-old question that has never had an answer. For five-thousand recorded years of history and most definitely more, no one has known what magic is. We've known how to use it, how to harness it, how to control it to some degree, however we've never known what we were controlling, much the way Muggles play with nuclear power. They have some understanding of it, but not all. But Deb has just given us the answer, and, may I mention, the link between the Muggle and magical arts. Deb has explained magic. In this formula consisting of only four symbols is a mathematical explanation of everything we do. She's done the magical equivalent of proving that one plus one equals two. And she can no longer deny being a genius."

"That's not true," Deb retorted unexpectedly and breathlessly from the doorway, "Just because everyone before me was stupid doesn't make me a genius."

"In comparison you are."

"But who's comparing?"

"Please Deborah, admit there is no other in history and most likely there never will be anyone who could come up with this theory."

"In history? Einstein could have, but he wasn't a wizard, so it wouldn't have crossed his mind to have a theory for it. In the future, no there never will be because I've already figured it out. No one will need to figure it out."

"But Deborah…"

She put her hand up, "Please Albie, Don't. My head explode if you keep on with that genius rambling. Severus will be joining us momentarily, as he is presently engaged with trying to make Neville Longbottom cry…I think…or so it would seem."

"Detention again?" Hermione asked, "But it's the weekend.

"Yep-o, I know," Deb strolled over and settled herself cross-legged on the desk, "He loves giving that boy hell, doesn't he?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied, "Hopefully at the end of the year Neville will build up the courage to slip a well-ruined potion into Severus' goblet."

"That'd be giving him some of his own medicine," Deb nudged the air with her elbow, "Get it? Get it?"

"Please, Ladies," Dumbledore interjected, "Let us focus. We have a new plan of attack for Voldemort; we must remain on the task at hand. If we use this tactic, we must get to Voldemort soon. Our most promising avenue of progress would be to have Severus brew the potion and administering it to him under the guise of the same potion that made him immortal last time."

"Which it is," Deb added, "More or less."

"Yes," Dumbledore continued, "But we'll need to hurry. Severus needs to-"

"I need to what, Albus?"

Snape was standing in the doorway, his eyes somehow more hollow, his face more wan.

There was a pause. A brief pause, in which reality beat down on the gathering like hailstones.

"You'll need to hurry, and declare your willingness to make up to Voldemort as soon as possible."

"Let me guess," He muttered softly, "Deborah has come up with yet another plan of attack."

"That is correct." Dumbledore replied.

"Might I be granted a hearing of this new approach?"

Deb explained, taking much of his physics knowledge for granted, Hermione noticed, simply explaining it as a pattern.

"And this means we must brew your family's potion and give it to him, as soon as possible and under the best circumstances as possible."

"Yes." Deb answered.

"And what makes you think he wouldn't test his immortality after taking your potion?" Severus asked seriously.

"He can't very well test it, because if it doesn't work he dies." Deb lowered her tone suddenly, her eyes aflame with…something dangerous. "The real test will be of your loyalty, Severus. He will test your loyalty to him, as a means of determining whether the potion will work, which is what I would do too."

"Do you know what that means for me?" Severus asked, his voice almost inaudible.

"Yes," Deb whispered, "I know what he does, and I know what it will do to you, and when you return I will be here, Albus will be here, Hermione will be here, Poppy will be here, and we will recover you…we will mend you. Between us, we can handle it."

"What for?" He asked, slumping into an armchair, "There will be nothing left for me after that. I'll have no purpose, no reason to be alive. Why not just let me die?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YOU BLOODY MORON!" Deb boomed, "You're like my brother, my only relative in the world! I need you, Dumbledore needs you, and if anything we'll still need you to coax Voldemort into the Forbidden forest so we can kill him!"

Severus fell silent, the grey holes in his eyes hanging heavily.

"Why me?" He murmured quietly.

Deb clicked her tongue irritably, "Why you, why you? Well, I'm buggered if I know why you!" She roared, putting one hand on either arm of his chair to hover her face above his. "If we're asking those stupid questions, Severus, why shouldn't I ask 'why me?' Why was it my family that you came after? Why was I the only one who didn't get murdered? Why did I have to watch as my parents and brother were slain like lambs at the slaughter? How should I know why either of us got stuck this way? We just did, and we both have to HANDLE IT!"

Snape broke her contact with his chair as he leapt out and paced like a restless tiger in a cage. He paced for some time, his face set with furious consternation. He stopped and pointed at Deb.

"You're insane, you know that?" he declared and began pacing again.

She blinked at him.

"Well, you're a prick, and you know it, so I imagine that I'm insane and I know it." Deb replied tartly.

Severus stopped pacing. He looked at her angrily for a moment, until his mask of anger broke into a weak smile. Deb walked towards him and gave him…a hug. Hermione's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Was she seeing straight? Was Professor Snape really getting…a hug? Hermione looked to Dumbledore for explanation, but he merely offered an annoyingly cheeky wink.

Deb released Severus and put a hand on either side of his face.

"You're a prick, you know that?" She smiled.

"I know," a brief smile breaking across his mouth.

"You're all of your rockers!" Hermione exclaimed.

"So are you," Deb countered indignantly, "I'm not the one who started studying for her final Potions exam at the beginning of the term last year."

Hermione shuffled her feet in embarrassment.

"Don't worry," Deb laughed, "You're in good company."

Severus slunk away to his quarters, emitting his usual air of unfriendliness. When he shut the door on the outside world, he dropped the defenses, his posture, and what he truly was became his outer face. He moped into his bedroom, took of his shoes and robes and crawled into bed, trying to block out his cruel reality. He didn't want to do anything anymore. He just wanted to stay in bed, forever, let the doors lock shut, the windows keep closed and the world might leave him alone. If he shut his eyes for long enough, maybe the world would disappear. He knew it all wasn't true, but he desperately wanted it to be…

He didn't want to have to face Voldemort. He didn't want to have to endure it again…the test of Loyalty. Every Death Eater was required to undergo that test, and Voldemort was now demanding that anyone who was truly loyal to him would endure it at any chosen time, especially before offering a service.

It was gruesome, horrifying sickening to watch…and infinitely worse when he was the victim. Flashes still returned to him in occasional nightmares, flicks of pain to jerk him into remembering. And to have to suffer it again…

"Remember, after this, it will be over."

Severus jolted and quickly squirmed into sitting position.

"Albus, what are you doing here?"

"I came to reassure you. If we succeed this time, which I believe we will, there won't be a next time. You can put it all behind you…start again."

"Do you think it's that simple, Albus?" Severus asked sternly, "Do you think I can just erase so many years of pain and perversion out of my mind?"

"No," Dumbledore replied quietly, "But I think you can move on. I think you could start thinking about what you can do, rather than what you can't do. I think you should let go…because holding on to bad memories doesn't make them good. It will only weaken you."

"Please Albus, leave me be. I will do what you're asking of me, but let me just stay here for now…I don't need inspiration or heartening. I need rest. I am about to brew what is most likely one of the most complex potions ever known to man, and following this I will be facing the Dark Lord only so that he can destroy my body in no uncertain terms. Go and lecture some wayward students in my stead, because I shall not listen."

Snape rolled over and drew the covers angrily. He heard the Headmaster sigh, his footsteps as he walked out of room, and breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut. But even as he drifted to sleep, the blackness became the start of the most horrifying nightmare yet.

Oooooogiewoogiewoogie! I'm so excited to write it! Also, Deb still have some tricks up her sleeve, so don't underestimate her.