At the pub, a blond man looked around anxiously, hoping a particular one of his LiveJournal mates would show. He knew a few of them would be there, but he really wanted to see if this one would come out of her shell and join them, finally. He'd pushed this pub, knowing it was in her neighborhood. It seemed important to him make contact with her now that the threat had been established and verified. He looked around at their other friends, getting loud and happy on John Courage and Guinness and having a rollicking time. A few mentioned BeWitched, but lost the thought of her in the drunkenness of the moment. He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket, and took the call quickly. "Malfoy."

"Go somewhere quieter," the voice hissed over the din of the pub. "I'll call again in 2 minutes."

Malfoy looked around, and told his friends he would be off in the loo for a moment. Once he got there, he waited for the phone to ring again.

"Snape, what the hell happened today?" Malfoy said. "Damn! Hermione seemed extremely upset. She wrote some things about encountering her old life in her journal - you know that's far more than she's ever let on publicly about her situation."

"As well she should be upset," the voice on the other end said, "what with your mother's disgusting tramp of a whore attempting to abduct her today."

"I knew it - I knew it!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Severus, she's got to know the truth. Did you tell her? Did you arm her? How did you get her away from them? I should go to her right now - I tried to get her to come out and meet me at the pub, but she hasn't shown."

"No," Snape said in a commanding tone, "they already know that someone knows their scheme, and we cannot afford to blow your cover. I had to stun that...bitch...to get Hermione safe. You need to just remain calm, and keep your usual tabs on her, and let me know if your intelligence indicates I should step in again. If she does not report in on your infernal Muggle machine once per day, please owl me immediately. Keep your distance, Draco."

"I understand. But I think you should start watching her LiveJournal, Severus," Malfoy said. "She doesn't let much on, but just my reading between the lines last night probably saved her arse. And ours, to be quite frank."

Snape snorted. "There aren't a lot of Internet connections at Hogwarts, Draco. And I haven't the first clue how to use a computer, despite your attempts to get me interested over the years. You know how I feel about this dratted Muggle technology you adore so much."

"Well, you know full well that I can get you hooked up without anyone knowing. I'd appreciate a second set of eyes, to be honest - and we could dispense with the owls if we have email. I'm afraid I might miss a clue, especially now that they have made their first move. Blast Dumbledore!!! Why hasn't he..."

"Because," Snape said evenly, "he'd probably be happier if she was dead, as this business would be ended. He won't interfere in the matter and may well have set the whole thing in motion, in my opinion. She's a black mark on his record. Probably the only thing standing between him and the Ministry head chair. You know this as well as I."

"I wish we still had the Dumbledore I remember as a more sanguine child," Draco sighed. "He seemed so benevolent and wise and insufferably saccharine in my years at school. Now I truly understand the pressures you have been under all these years..."

"To be quite blunt," Snape interrupted, "I don't think Albus ever was the kindly and ever-wise man he wanted people to believe he was. He uses people, Draco. He used a young girl and two young boys to defeat his great enemy, leaving one dead, one comatose, and another exiled rather than calling them heroes - he was the only one to accept credit as you know. He's using you to keep tabs on people he doesn't like at the Ministry, and of course on Hermione. He has used me for many purposes, each more distasteful than the last." His voice trailed off to a near-whisper at the end, making Draco wince.

"Severus?" Draco cleared his throat nervously. "Why do you care so much about this? About protecting her?"

Snape's voice grew chillier. "I don't care about the girl, Draco. I care about our plan. Only about our plan, and she's a part of it even if she is unaware of that fact. Keeping her alive ensures our success."

Draco stubbornly replied, "Let's get you on her journal, Severus. I need backup." He heard the older man sigh.

"Angels and ministers of grace, defend us," Severus said dryly. "First you have me using telephones, now this?"

Draco hung up, smiling, and rejoined the party. "Another round for everyone," he said, once again scanning the room for Hermione Granger. Satisfied that she was not there, he half-listened to the swirling conversation and thought about how he was going to get Snape hooked into Hermione's life.

~*~*~

"Lucius," Dumbledore said, "do come in. Tea?"

"I'm not here for your company," Lucius Malfoy said, seating himself in a grand gesture. "I have news that should interest you."

"Indeed? My sources say that the first attempt to bring her in resulted in dismal failure. I'm warning you, Lucius. I went to bat to get you and your wife out of Azkaban. The act took a pound of my flesh, and so I extract that much from you - with interest. I expect you to take care of this problem to settle the matter."

"Of course, Albus," Lucius said smoothly, "but there seems to be a minor difficulty. Severus appears to have involved himself in this business."

Dumbledore looked alarmed. "Why would Severus be involved?"

"I don't know," Lucius said, "but he poses a threat to our mission that cannot be ignored. I thought you should know before we proceed with another attempt...so that you may rectify the situation as you wish."

Dumbledore nodded, once. "Thank you, Lucius. I will contact you soon."

After his visitor left, Dumbledore steepled his hands, staring into the fire. "I never thought it could come to this," a voice said from behind him.

"I'll thank you to keep your rather large nose out of my business, Phineas," Dumbledore said to the portrait. "Go back to sleep. This is no concern of yours."

"Really? A plot to kidnap an innocent girl - who, by the way, was cast out of the wizarding world for an offense that was largely overdramatized for the courts by yourself - isn't a concern? I never thought I'd see the day that Albus Dumbledore became as twisted as the men he opposed. Consorting with Lucius Malfoy! It will bring your downfall."

In one swift motion, Dumbledore stood and grabbed the portrait, throwing it casually in a closet. The other portrats hung, silently, knowing that nothing they would say would change the path the current Headmaster was on. It was too late. Dumbledore turned to a small wizarding photo of his brother on the credenza behind him. "Tell me, Aberforth. What would you do in my place?" Of course, the photograph offered nothing but a crooked smile and silence.

Dumbledore sat again, head in hands. Snape's involvement complicated matters, but it could be worked around. A little misinformation and a few wild goose chases, and he'd be out of Dumbledore's considerable hair. He couldn't simply get rid of him, of course; he was too valuable for a plethora of reasons. Albus rose and threw a pinch of Floo powder in the hearth. "Severus! A word, please."

~*~*~

"You will *not* contact Hermione Granger. Is that clear, Severus?"

"Crystal, Headmaster. Though I fail to understand why you are making an issue out of a former student that I've had no interest in for many years." The sneer was firmly on his place, covering the worry that perhaps his association with Draco Malfoy would be discovered and the scheme blown.

"I have ways of knowing, as you well know. I'm still a more accomplished Occlumens than you'll ever be. And I can make your final years painful, or not. The choice is yours."

"Is that a threat, Headmaster? You're threatening me with mind-rape, again, without so much as even a little bit of foreplay? I thought we'd been over this tired old ground before..."

"Severus," Albus's voice held a familiar warning tone, with the all-too-oft repeated reminder for Professor Snape of how much he stood to lose. If the Headmaster ever saw fit to drop his protection of his former-Death Easter Potions Master, his fate would undoubtedly include Azkaban. The years of blackmail definitely took their toll, but Severus knew how to play the old coot - even when he behaved as erratically as he had been the last few weeks.

Snape sighed, crossing his arms in a gesture that seemed to speak of both acquiescence and defiant ill-humor. "May I go?"

Albus watched his wayward employee leave, certain as always that he was a man of his word, and that he could look for no more trouble from that quadrant. It had been helpful numerous times to have Snape's balls in a vise the way he did. He could not afford any further interference in the Granger matter.

~*~*~

A package arrived to the office on Monday evening for Hermione, delivered by Henry the night janitor, who clucked at the late hours his charge was keeping again as she waved him off. Oddly, there was no return address, which made her quite apprehensive given the events of the weekend. She nearly dropped it when she opened it; she looked around to make certain no one was there before she brought the gift out of the package. There was a note: "It was wrong to put you out among the Muggles without a defense against the unfriendly wizards that are certain to come looking for you now. This wand is not registered with Ollivander's and the Ministry and thus cannot easily be traced. The core is of unicorn hair. Use it sparingly, but well." The package contained one beautiful wand, cherry wood and unicorn tail hair. She estimated the length at about eight inches. It looked much like an Ollivander's creation, but this was clearly one of those fabled illegally-made wands that the Death Eaters had favored back in the day.

She wasn't at all certain which person she knew could have sent her the wand, or how she'd be able to use it without inviting Ministry scrutiny despite the admonition that it was unregistered. They were able to scan and pick up the use of magic by unregistered creatures - why would it be different for her? She'd read about their methods of catching unregistered practioners of illegal magic in another lifetime for her pursuit of Rita Skeeter, after all. But at this point, she didn't care. She slipped the wand into her waistband, feeling the smooth wood and wondering fleetingly if magic was something that came back to you even if you didn't use it - like riding a bicycle. Smiling, she realized the fear of her unknown stalker was already lessened as she turned to her computer, beginning an email to a client as if her life hadn't just changed dramatically.

Within a few days, the routine of having a wand tucked into her undergarments became a great comfort to Hermione. She still felt as if she was being shadowed at times, but the surges of energy around her seemed to bother her less even if she did feel very self-conscious and exposed. She wasn't sure exactly why she still felt so vulnerable, but had concluded her imagination had gone into overdrive after her near-abduction. Hermione forced herself to focus again on her work, writing small updates in her journal in the evenings and continuing the conversation with her friends. It was as if the unreality of her brush with the magical world had become only as significant as a bad dream intruding on the quietly desperate, wholly mundane existence of her daily life.

It was nearly bedtime on Friday night, nearly a week after the abortive abduction. She pulled out the Quidditch final photo that included Professor Snape. Again, he was watching her with narrowed eyes, but not avoiding her. Everyone else walked away or looked at the ground, but Snape stood stock-still and managed to look...if not normal, less frighening, at any rate.

While watching the photo, she saw Draco Malfoy swoop into the corner of the picture on his broom. Oddly, he didn't even sneer in her direction; instead, he gave her a friendly wave, and flew off. Obviously, she thought, wizarding photos must age in odd ways. Draco certainly had been the worst kind of git and Snape was more horrible. Insanity.

She sat down at her computer, and typed another entry. It was hard to explain herself without giving away Wizard photos, of course, but she tried anyway.

When I was in school, I knew several people that I considered very unpleasant. One was a teacher; another was a student my age. Both went out of their way to make me and my friends upset on a daily basis. I don't look back with fondness on either one of them.

However, now that I am estranged from my former life, I find that these two don't seem to look upon me with the same judgment my former "friends" did. I am at a loss as to explain this, as they would be the last two that I'd believe in. Strangely, recent events have led me to believe they may not have as harsh an opinion as I think others do.

To the two of you...a drink in good cheer.

Mood: tired
Music: Shostakovich Symphony #5

She busied herself getting ready for bed, then heard the chime for new email from the iBook. Someone commenting on her entry, no doubt. She couldn't resist a peek. It was QI.

"Anytime you want to AIM or YM, let me know. Something tells me it wouldn't be as bad as you think."

She smiled. Maybe someday. She started to shut down her computer, when another email came in. It was from a username unfamiliar to her. Bats50. She opened the email gingerly. It always bothered her when someone she didn't know read her journal. Perhaps, she thought, she should keep her entries friends-only.

"I've just read through your entire journal at a friend's insistence. What a waste of time. Your self-indulgence is pitiful. Grow up and spare us all the drama."

At first she felt as if someone had slapped her - hard - and then thrown ice water on for good measure. Within seconds, she surprised herself with an unexpected laugh - a genuine, hearty laugh, unlike anything she'd mustered in months. That was refreshing honesty! She looked over her journal for a moment, and had to admit that most of her entries were certainly self-indulgent, whiny introspection. She checked out Bats50's identity, but he - Hermione wasn't sure why she thought it was a "he", but the words seemed oddly masculine and familiar - divulged nothing about himself on his bio page. She decided to add this very honest Batman to her friends list so she could work on the hateful nosy prat, and then switched off the lights for a well-deserved rest. She tossed and turned, wondering which "friend" had turned this Bat on to her journal, before she dropped off to dream restless dreams of Dark wizards under cloaks, calling her name under moonless skies of fire and anger.

Not-so-many-miles away in a pre-industrial dungeon in an invisible castle, Bats50 found himself in his darkest of secret rooms staring at a bright computer screen, shaking his head slowly. How Draco had managed the computer within the walls of Hogwarts, he wasn't sure...but the charms that allowed it to operate wirelessly, feeding off a cellular tower nearby, were nothing short of some of the most impressive magic he'd seen from any former student. He'd never admit it to Draco, of course, but the boy had turned into an amazingly powerful wizard. It was appalling that a power of that magnitude was such a Muggle-phile these days, but it seemed to be a side-effect of his work. And, the work was too important to begrudge him his fascination with the outside world that he was now a part of.

Now Draco was dragging Severus into his own private hell of Muggle contraptions, one-by-one. Charming. Next the little prat would insist that he wear jeans and combat boots in direct imitation of Draco's personal style. Ridiculous.

His thoughts turned to the problem of Dumbledore, and he stretched his limbs, wincing as they cracked, before he put his head in his hands. The mission had become exponentially more difficult. The man had always meddled at the most inopportune times, but this time it was crucial that he not garner further suspicion in his surveillance of Granger. It wasn't the first time Severus had been at odds with the Headmaster; he shuddered remembering the fury Dumbledore unleashed in a shadowy earlier time in their relationship, one that had indeed "kept him in line", as Dumbledore would say. He was still a more formidable enemy than anyone alive, and it would not do to be discovered in a double-cross after being warned. It was time for Plan B.

~*~*~

"Well?" Lucius demanded. "What is the plan now?"

"Well, her experience didn't seem to scare her enough, if that's what you mean," the woman sitting to Narcissa's right said. "But you know how much I need this to be successful, Lucius. Don't worry. It will all happen as planned, as long as you got Dumbledore to take care of the little issue I encountered on her stairwell landing. I can't very well afford to follow her again when there is company present."

"He says he and Snape have come to an agreement. And Dumbledore has my son spying on her, as well - I know we haven't spoken to him much lately, but I suspect he would give us any information we need. Despite his work among the -" Lucius' lip curled in distaste, "-Muggles, he's been an asset to both his official Ministry position and our family's interests."

"Indeed," Narcissa leaned forward. "Well, hopefully we can soon wash our hands of this unpleasantness and move on with our lives, no?" She looked hopefully over at her pink-clad lover, and back at her husband.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, marveling that his wife could find anything attractive in this horrid woman; but keeping them both around had its advantages for now. "It's up to Miss Umbridge to finish the job, now that I've cleared the obstacles. I want the girl here as soon as possible so we can complete this business, and then you and Dolores can go off and hump each other somewhere else. I'm sick of you both." Lucius blew kisses to the two astonished women, and closed the door behind him. The Mudblood would soon be at his disposal, and he could finish the job his associates had started five years before.

Frankly, he mused, Dumbledore was making this all too easy. He'd have to remember that later when he decided who deserved mercy in the new order and who did not. The man was an old fool for the most part, but one with talents and uses that were necessary to the greater cause. If not for the death of Aberforth, of course, none of this would have been set in motion. Who could have seen that the spirit of a man who consorted with - goats, Merlin forbid - could possibly undo the greatest wizard in an age? He'd heard of worse perversions, of course, but the repurcussions of Aberforth's passing into the spirit world had opened the floodgates for a very large transfer of power, now inexplicably held in trust inside a Mudblood's soul. Shaking his head, Lucius descended the stairs into his parlour, in search of a nice snifter of brandy, where he was confronted by a man he had not expected - or cared - to see again in this lifetime.

Nodding his head pleasantly, as if it were an expected and welcome social call, Lucius smiled. "Severus, my friend. What brings you out to the Manor on such a fine October morn?"

A/N: QuIdiot refers at one point in this chapter to AIM/YM: AOL Instant Messenger and Yahoo Messenger. Chat programs that allow for real-time discussion.