Chapter 44 And the masks the monsters wear to feed upon their prey

And so the school year began. Hermione sat, trying to rein in her excitement as the batch of first years was led in by McGonagall. The class was smaller than usual, she noted with a frown, but shook it off to watch with anticipation as the children were sorted. How small they were, she reflected. She had been pleased to note in the staff meeting that many of them were muggleborn, quite a larger proportion than in previous years. They were easy to pick out now; they were the ones with the wide, staring eyes.

She steadfastly kept her eyes upon the action before her, and resisted the temptation to look at Severus. Even after a whole weekend together, the sight of him was like a drink of cool water to her. Well, almost a whole weekend; there had been a staff meeting late on Sunday afternoon which she had, after various Slytherin moves on his part, finally convinced him that they had to attend, and also the outing with Sirius which had cut their weekend short. Though it was a wrench to give up the few remaining free hours they had together, in her heart she knew she owed time to Sirius. There had been a sour look in Severus's eyes as he had left her rooms, but she hoped she had satisfied all the old jealousy by tackling him with kisses as he left. Anyway, it couldn't be helped, and she was happy that she had had a chance to spend some real time with Sirius before he had to go.

Now it was term time, and she was officially Professor Hermione Granger. She did her best to remember all the solemn advice the others had given her over the last week. She tried to remember all their horror stories of their first classes, and did her best to remember that by only her second class she would be faced with Slytherins, but it was difficult to clamp down the excitement, nonetheless.

Dinner began; Dumbledore introduced her as the new Muggle Studies teacher, and in a whirl, it was over. She moved with the other teachers to the staff room, where Filius played waiter and handed around the sherry, and her eye caught a glimpse of a shadow in the corner. It had a familiar shape, and her eyes locked on to it. Severus's dark eyes mated with hers for a moment before something else called them both to attention, but it was enough. She had had her taste of him, and could carry on until the next time they had the opportunity to meet.

The first week of classes progressed with no more and no less excitement than in previous years. Hermione was given reason to both bless and curse the fact that her classes were composed of the upper years of the school, but she was extremely grateful that she had had opportunity in the year past to get to know the students and observe the way they behaved. She felt that her first week was not without success.

A leisurely bath in her quarters was by way of a reward both for Severus and Hermione half-way through the week, and she had the pleasure, aside from that of wrapping her limbs around his naked body and soaping his chest, of hearing his yearly rant on the first years.

'So, no new Longbottoms yet?' she asked, tongue in cheek.

'Not quite. Your friend Neville has the distinction of being the only first year in my experience to melt a cauldron every day in his first week of potions.' Snape sighed. 'But Dolores LeFaine may almost be up to his standard. The silly girl mixed dry bicorn horn with powdered ginger root, with the result-'

'Boom, gunpowder,' Hermione interrupted. 'Yes, I know. Neville saved that discovery for our third year.'

'How the little witch got her hands on bicorn horn is what I puzzle over,' Snape said, casually stroking Hermione's leg as she soaped his shoulders. 'It must have been set in her potions kit by some enterprising relative, I suppose. I remember her brother was quite adept at the skill, when he was here.'

It was on the tip of Hermione's tongue to ask whether he had given them the usual 'subtle art of potions' speech, but she thought better of it. Besides, there were better ways to distract the surly potions master from his troubles.

The peaceful progress of learning carried on in this way for the first few weeks of term, and, given the summer that had preceeded it, those who knew that they were on the edge of war were almost grateful for it. There were difficulties, however. As little as any of them wished Severus to be called again, the dream-troubling potion was stocked up and ready, waiting to be administered to its Death Eater victims. A second plan of sneaking around to the residences of the known Death Eathers began to be formulated, but they were saved from its execution when Severus was called in the middle of a Wednesday night.

Hermione tied up her dressing gown as she rushed through the halls to Dumbledore's office. She had been in her own rooms, unable to sleep, when something had caused her to glance out of the window. The familiar dark figure crossing the lawn could mean only one thing.

Dumbledore was, of course, awake, and only somewhat surprised to see her. He turned sad eyes to her in response to her question, 'Is he gone?'

The old man flicked his wand at the tea service on a side table, summoning it to the table in front of the fireplace.

'We might as well sit together, my dear,' he said, waving his hand at the other armchair in front of the fire. 'There is no point in our pacing our rooms seperately.'

It was a long night.

The Order of the Phoenix had been called to an emergency meeting in a large secret room in the castle of Hogwarts. To any interested observers, it may have appeared a little strange that Arthur and Molly Weasley had decided to take a weekend away in Hogsmeade, and one or two individuals may have observed the werewolf Remus Lupin tramping across the Scottish moors with his great black dog in the general direction of Hogwarts. Others would have passed completely unobserved.

'I am afraid-' Dumbledore began, hushing the collected group. 'I am afraid that the intelligence we have all gathered in the past week can only point to one thing.'

Silence reigned in the room until the old wizard spoke again.

'War, my friends,' Dumbledore continued, 'is finally upon us.'

It was not news to anyone in the room. In fact, it was what they had been waiting for for many months now. But it was not welcome, nevertheless.

Hermione risked a glance at Snape, and wished she hadn't. Nothing had happened to him in Wednesday's meeting, but it had affected him just the same. He was paler than ever, and the shadows under his eyes told of sleepless nights. He hadn't let her near him - she knew he wouldn't but she had tried anyway. But he hadn't been cruel about it, and that spoke volumes.

Dumbledore was speaking again, and Hermione fought her way past the dread in her stomach to pay attention.

'We don't know when they plan to strike. It may be tomorrow, it may not be for several weeks. We only know that it will happen within term time.' Dumbledore looked around the circle. 'The target is Hogwarts, and all those who reside in it.'

This also wasn't news, but there were small reactions around the circle just the same. Molly closed her eyes. Aruthur stared at the floor. Tonks stared straight ahead, as good as a reaction from her. Hermione gave no reaction at all, for she had given all she could give on Thursday morning after Severus had returned and she had the privacy of her own rooms. Her heart had hardened now.

'Tonks, Kingsley, what have we to expect from the Aurors?' Dumbledore asked.

'We have a few loyals that we can rely on,' replied Shacklebolt, but then he shook his head. 'Not nearly enough, though. A few random witches and wizards who will come when we need them, whenever we need them, and who will do their best to bring others, and Spires and Woodward, who will bring their groups across with them. We may be able to release a general alert that will bring others, regardless of what the Ministry advises, but we can't count on it.'

Dumbledore nodded, and turned to Arthur. 'And what of the ministry, Arthur?'

'We can falsify the codes needed to summon the aurors to the scene. We cannot, however,' Arthur sighed, 'sustain troupes of aurors on Hogwarts grounds for the next few weeks, which is what we need.'

'Why on earth they won't believe the word of Albus Dumbledore I'll never know,' Molly interpolated. Dumbledore twinkled at her.

'Thank you for the vote of confidence, Molly,' he said with a nod. He turned to Bill Weasley, who had been called back earlier in the week from his investigations in Europe.

'We have the support of the Valkyries, and Charlie has the dragon masters on board.' He smiled. 'We have had a bit of luck with the 'lesser' magical races,' he said. He turned to the others to explain. 'We figure that while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is happy to recruit Dark creatures for his forces, he won't be stooping to those he considers below him. So far, we've had luck with several races of fairies. Some of the goblins have listened to what we have to say. There are a few who will join us when the battle happens, but I think I can convince some of those I've been talking to to take residence on Hogwarts grounds.'

Dumbledore nodded and turned to Hagrid. The giant shook his head.

'We won't have any trouble from the forest, but that's all I can guarantee yeh.'

'That is better than nothing, Hagrid,' Dumbledore said with a nod at the caretaker. 'Severus?' he asked, turning to the shadow in the corner.

'We cannot trust any of the children of Death Eaters, such as remain,' he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Hermione cringed inside at the despair in his tone. 'It cannot be beyond notice that none of the first years this year are from those families, and all their children from the lower classes have been pulled out. I recommend that a very close watch be kept on those that remain, and any of their confidants be kept under suspicion. We will need to deal with them when the time comes.'

A small silence went around the circle as the news sunk in. It was almost unthinkable that Hogwarts would be faced with an enemy from within, in the form of its own students. Worse still, they all knew how much it cost Snape to admit that he had failed to turn his students from the darkness. Dumbledore thanked him and turned to the group.

'As for myself, I can assure you that Hogwarts is by no means incapable of defending itself. There is more to these old stones,' he said, patting the walls, 'than meets the eye. We will meet tomorrow to plan the battle.' With a nod, he dismissed the group.

Hermione followed Snape down into the dungeons, uncaring of who saw her. Tonight was no night to be alone. He spotted her when they reached his door, and sighed.

'Hermione, you should return to your own rooms.'

Hermione gave him a serious look. 'So that we can spend the night awake in our own rooms, just like the past three nights? Thank you, Severus, but as grumpy as you may be your company is better than lying with my eyes open to the darkness alone.' She saw his shoulders slump slightly in defeat, and was glad he was too tired to put up much of an argument.

Despite his protestations, Snape was soon asleep in Hermione's arms, of which she was glad. He would need all of his strength for the many meetings he would soon be called to, on both sides. She recalled the conversation that had occurred when he had returned on Thursday morning.

'Soon,' he had said. Hermione had pressed her ear to the door, uncaring if Dumbledore knew of her presence. Severus had insisted that she leave, and she knew him well enough to stay out of his way, but she wanted, needed to know that he was all right.

'I wasn't able to find out exactly when. There is much distrust. The D- The Dark Lord is conducting mind searches of those who will implement the plan. I missed out because of the fun they were having with the last subject of their test.' He paused here a moment, and Hermione had time enough to picture what sort of fun they would have had. She wished he would keep on talking.

'Occulomency only makes him suspicious. Pensieves leave too many holes. Albus, I have too much to hide now. I do not know what is to be done!' There was a crash, then, and Hermione pulled away from the door. She heard Dumbledore mutter something and then footsteps, so she quickly backed away and threw an invisibility charm over herself. Luckily, Snape was too distracted to notice as he usually did. Dumbledore was not.

'You may remove the charm now, Miss Granger,' the old man said. She did, and stepped forward.

'I'm one of the things he has to hide,' she said sadly, and the old man nodded.

'What is to be done?' she asked. Dumbledore shook his head and walked toward her.

'There is always a way, my child,' he said. It wasn't much consolation.

She had spent the next two nights puzzling over it. On the second night, Severus had attempted to break up with her, which was exactly what she expected. It hadn't been pleasant, but once she had tied him to a chair and explained that breaking up wouldn't achieve much, as it would merely create a powerful emotional pathway to exactly the memories and thoughts Voldemort wanted to access, he had given up the attempt. He hadn't been happy about it, however.

Two phrases kept floating around and around in her head. Occulomency only makes him suspicious. Pensieves leave too many holes. The two most common pathways to concealing their secret were no longer safe. That left them with too few options.

She had spent last night in the library, researching an idea she had. The information had confirmed that her idea was a solid one, a possible one. It was the way out of their predicament. She had left her notes on Dumbledore's desk, and a small nod from the old man during the meeting had confirmed that all her suppositions were sound. It was a way, the only way they had, to ensure Snape's safety at the next meeting, and it had to be done as soon as possible.

If only she knew it was reversible. If only she had some hope. Hermione wrapped her arms more tightly about her lover and wept.

Snape was immediately suspicious when Hermione led him into Dumbledore's office. The old man was supposed to be meeting with Lupin and Black to formulate battle plans this morning, and had no time for a tete a tete with two troubled lovers. The solemn look on the old man's face was not comforting.

It was Hermione who spoke first, piling suspicion on suspicion.

'Severus,' she said, turning to him. 'You know that I was listening at the door the other night when you were telling Albus about the meeting.' Snape nodded. He wouldn't have expected anything less of her, and if he hadn't been so bone tired that night he might have remembered to ward the door with a silencing charm. Besides, she had said as much the other night when she'd tied him to a chair. Hermione took a deep breath and looked as though she was about to cry, which troubled him. She wasn't the type to burst into tears.

Dumbledore observed this as well, and took hold of the situation.

'Hermione has been researching ways around your particular predicament,' the old wizard said. 'And, happily, she has found one.' He sent a smile Hermione's way, and she gave a small smile back before she turned again to Snape.

'It's the fidelus charm,' she said, and Snape frowned. He knew that the charm applied to locations only, and for a moment he thought the two of them had resolved to send him away. Hermione, seemingly reading his mind, held up a hand. 'An altered fidelus charm. One that hides a secret, rather than a person. One that can hide the secrets you need hidden.'

Snape's puzzlement continued for a few moments as the headmaster explained how a few changes to the charm could keep his secrets hidden, hidden in the mind of one other person. Once the charm was said, if it worked - and Snape knew Hermione, knew that she wouldn't have suggested it unless she was certain it would work - all knowledge of the secret would disappear as if it had never existed. In other words, whatever it was would never have happened.

He and Hermione would never have happened.

Dumbledore explained this in a sad voice, explained that Hermione would be the one to perform the charm, as she would be the one to hold the secret. When it was over, the only evidence that he and Hermione Granger had ever been romantically inclined would exist in Hermione's head. The old man nodded at Hermione, and patted Snape on the shoulder as he left the two to discuss it.

Snape stared at Hermione, who was now standing by the fireplace, her chin held high and her eyes unafraid to meet his. They sat in silence. He couldn't think of anything to say.

'If you agree to this, Severus, I think we should do it now,' she said. Her voice held an unnatural calm. 'It must be done before your next meeting is called.'

'When - how will it be reversed?' he asked.

Hermione looked at the floor. 'I don't know. We don't know if it can be. As I've mucked around with so many elements of the original charm, I need too much time to figure out what elements of the ending charm I need to change. We don't have enough time.'

Snape looked at her sadly. It felt as if someone was twisting a knife in his gut, and he couldn't figure out why.

'Dumbledore won't be able to help you,' he said.

'No.' She gave him a tremulous smile. 'He won't remember it having happened. No one will. Funny, isn't it? I finally invent something useful in magic and no one is going to know about it except me. Maybe even I won't believe me, after a while. Maybe I'll think I've gone mad, or something, to imagine-' She held a hand up to her mouth, and a strangled sound came from her. Snape stood, crossing over to her.

'Hermione, there has to be some way. I can't let you do this. I can't add this to the rest of the things I've done-'

She held a hand up to his face, and gave him a sad look. 'You can, Severus, and you won't have to live with it. You won't remember it.'

He closed his eyes in pain. 'Hermione,' he whispered. 'I-'

'Shh,' she said, stroking his cheek. 'Don't say things that will make this memory any harder for me.' He nodded, and placed his hand on her cheek, feeling the tears there, a mirror to the wetness on his own.

She raised her wand.

In London, Ginny Weasley blinked in the middle of her morning jog, remembering the fun she had had with Hermione Granger last time they'd got drunk together.

In the staff room, Freya Hooch and Esmerelda Sprout frowned and looked at each other.

On her balcony, Minerva McGonagall paused in cutting a flower for Filius Flitwick, but returned to her task as he pointed for her.

In a small room in the headmaster's chambers, Sirius Black let out a small growl without knowing why. Dumbledore, standing across the table from him, looked sadly at the map he was holding as he felt a memory slip out of his head, but his expression cleared. He wouldn't remember it. He had important things to do. War had begun.

The End.