The Twenty

by Leyna Rountree

COMPLETE! Hermione and an unlikely Pansy form an elite group of witches, and possess one unusual commonality. Facing their most carnal desires, they will harness a power not seen in an age, to save themselves and protect Hogwarts. Can it stay a secret?

24. Moving Out, Moving In, and Moving On

Disclaimer: Still not mine and on and on. Thank you J.K. Rowling for allowing me to borrow your lovely characters!

Sorry y'all had to wait so long for this chapter. There is one more after this and then I'm calling it quits for awhile. I love all you guys, you keep me so 'up'. Many thanks to feedback from Shabopo and Keket Amunet, Lori and lyress, and so many others who e-mail me with encouragement and corrections. I may have to break until after January, unless I have an epiphany of some kind. I have a major quilting effort waiting for me with a deadline of Christmas. Eek. Thank you so much for reading an reviewing.

Chapter 24: Moving Out, Moving In, and Moving On

Snape gathered himself together, his inscrutable mask worn like his other off-putting clothing. All were physical reminders of restraint and control. He had picked himself up enough times to at least feign a practiced look of cold indifference, at least until it became fact. It had worked well before— but the mask he had been using to contain his turbulent emotions was wearing thin. Now that Hermione had filled him with a multitude of feelings so foreign to him— pleasure, acceptance, joy, love and ultimately loss… the façade of unconcern no longer fit. It was as if he were plugging a leaky dam with a spare bit of cork. Try as he might, it was only a matter of time before the dam gave way to the flood.

He dried off and slipped on his restrictive teaching garb, dodging his restless reflection in the mirror. Storming out the bathroom door, he could not avoid the sight of his rumpled bed and swiftly left it behind him for his office. Third Year essays on uses of dragon heartstring, fifth year exams to grade, need lacewings for the stores… He kept his mind occupied with the mental list of tasks and stood stiffly behind his desk.

Crunch.

He picked up his right foot to look underneath— the forgotten shards of last night's whiskey glass left nasty gouges in the leather sole of his boot. His gaze drifted from the glittering remainders of the lead glass up to his cluttered desk. The bottle of whiskey was where he had left it, along with the box, her bookends, her copy of the book.

She had left with nothing.

Waving his wand, he cleaned up the mess, the lead crystal now beyond repair after his misstep had rendered it worthless. He laughed painfully.

That's not the only thing that can't be mended.

Snape stared at the slip of white paper from the black box and thought of the seal. Quickly he went to the den to rescue the remarkable work of art, carelessly left on the coffee table from the night before. He picked it up carefully, examining it for any sign of stain or blemish, hoping it hadn't picked up ay moisture or trace droplets from the discarded potion. The swirling words of his first year lecture tumbled through the Celtic knot. It was beautiful weave of flattery… so much more personal than even the Polyjuice recipe could convey. He remembered how entranced Katie became when viewing it… she had flung open her books and discussed the symbolism of the knotwork. His book had far and away outsold most potions texts, a clear sign that Hermione's calligraphy alone was selling his book. Perhaps he could send her royalties. He had paid her too little.

Snape frowned at the wrinkle made on otherwise unblemished parchment by his forceful grasp yesterday. He used his thumb to smooth the pinched valleys out, not daring to straighten it magically after all of her efforts to do traditional work. Reentering the classroom, he glanced at the sonnet and decided he would frame this as well, as soon as he could. For now it would have to remain safely tucked away in the black box.

With an attitude bordering on reverence, he held it up to admire it once more before lowering it carefully where it belonged. His brow quirked when it didn't quite lie flat, and he lifted it again to see what had caused the disturbance. Tucked away in a corner was a tiny scroll of paper. His long fingers plucked it from the box and unrolled it. Snape was shocked to see the former request in his familiar hand.

Everytime We Say Goodbye

Severus Snape was not immune to the powerful images that slip of paper conjured. In slow motion, he replaced the lid on the box, carefully and calmly put away each of Hermione belongings back in his lefthand drawer, and then launched the bottle of Ogden's across the room with as much force as he could put behind it, smashing it against the far wall.

That very moment, Albus Dumbledore chose to walk in the doors of the dungeons, stepping slightly to the right, avoiding the glass projectile.

"That's an interesting good morning, Severus," said Dumbledore with an annoyingly serene voice. A wrinkled hand reached down to brush away some whiskey that had splashed his robes. His timing as always, was appalling.

"Get out." Severus looked down, his face contorted into a cold scowl not at all dissimilar to the one he wore when he suffered the Cruciatus.

"Severus…"

"I SAID GET OUT!!!"

His deafening exclamation nearly blew the Headmaster through the door, and Dumbledore wisely withdrew, leaving the heartbroken man to suffer alone.

Snape didn't come to breakfast. He avoided the interruptions of the few students who dared to seek out his help that day by sequestering himself in the den. Try as he might, he could not stop thinking about her and about his inability to speak with her this morning— how his first words to her were discouraging instead of comforting, accepting, and understanding as hers had been. They were so different, and yet she accepted him and his faults.

The way she had looked at him, with adoration and longing. She communicated everything without speech after their first union. He had never felt so at peace.

He should have taken her again, he should have told her… should have kissed her senseless… convinced her to stay. Snape knew they couldn't have a relationship, and she did not need him to reinforce that painful thought by pointing out the obvious. If he hadn't started in on his little speech, Hermione would be there, now, with him, in his arms. He rested his head in his hands, lacing his fingers through lank, disheveled hair and refused to weep.

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A now dry-faced Hermione rejoined Pansy and Ginny at the foot of the stairs. "Don't you have class?"

"Nope, we have two 'grace days' to study for exams and prepare for our OWLS," Ginny said.

Good thing, Hermione thought, remembering how late they had slept. "I'm going to go the Room of Requirement. I don't really feel like facing all of Gryffindor right now." She chewed the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit. "Can you… get Ron and Harry for me?" She winced, feeling guilty for even asking. It seemed like all she had asked Pansy and Ginny do since she got back was fetch things from people and places she wanted to avoid.

"You bet," Ginny said kindly, leaving Pansy alone with her.

Pansy escorted her friend in silence to the fifth floor. They passed other students in the hall, and while some gasped at the sight of the return of their classmate, Hermione and Pansy made no comment.

Hermione walked as if in a trance, at first noticing all of the walls and paintings she would miss. She thought when she left Hogwarts that she would leave with a wistful fondness for the place. Now there was such an emptiness settling in her, that these halls no longer provided her any comfort. She felt a measure of sadness that she wasn't feeling as unhappy as she thought in leaving. And yet, leaving would likely not help to improve her mood either. After waiting four months to come back, leaving again so soon felt like emotional whiplash.

Pansy was worried for her. Hermione always looked like she wanted to say more, but was so distant. Pansy knew that feeling and desperately wanted to give Hermione the space she needed, but her curiosity was killing her. She nervously cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence hanging between them. "Can I see you later?"

"You better." Hermione smiled uneasily, trying to pick up her mood. "I haven't quite figured out what's next, you know? But I'll let you know where I land."

Pansy gave her a small smile in return. She had an idea, but it was a hopeful one only. Not at all realistic and too early to explore. Pansy hugged her tightly, and Hermione swallowed her emotion once more since her friends were coming. Hermione paced and opened the door to the Room of Requirement.

She walked into a room that looked like a cross between the Gryffindor Common room and Grimmauld Place. It was an interesting mishmash of nightmarish interior decorating gone awry with smatterings of crimson colored upholstery and 18th century furnishings along with old dusty couches and sideboards. Her back was still to the door when Harry and Ron entered.

Harry attacked her first, hugging her tightly. His tall, muscular body towered over her own smaller frame, making his squeeze more awkward than she remembered. Harry had to stoop. Ron hung back, and looked at her thoughtfully as Hermione met his gaze over Harry's right shoulder.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, and walked slowly into Ron's more careful embrace. He held her a long time, stroking her hair and for the first time in a long while, Hermione felt Ron really saw her. He appeared to understand, or at least wanted to make the attempt. She was grateful for the conspicuous absence of a full onslaught of questions or lecture. Ron, who usually had a propensity to stammer, was now yielding and calm, and more mature than she had remembered him. Ron gently released her from his arms and they sat on the couches.

"Hello," she said shyly, and they all laughed. "I missed you a lot," she confessed a bit shakily, wondering where her apologies should begin. For as long as she could remember, the three of them had done everything together, schemed together, even studied together— and this year she had abandoned that entirely. Hermione thought hard, and hot chocolate appeared before them all. Hermione brought the mug to her lips and blew on it, watching as the steam curled away from her breath, something to occupy her rather nervous brain as she wondered what questions would be forthcoming.

After a few moments, Harry broke the ice. "I can't believe you stayed in the caves. I mean… I understand why you wouldn't want to leave Hogwarts grounds for a few short weeks… but you stayed there even after everyone else left."

"What was it like?" Ron asked personably.

Hermione pulled the mug from her lips and said, "It was cold, gritty, lacked anything worth eating," she smirked and then her face fell. "Extremely lonely," she admitted distantly.

They had been to the caves and heard the report from Remus, so they hadn't missed much. Silence descended on the trio again, while Harry searched for more lighthearted conversation.

"Hey, how did you pass the message through Hedwig?" Harry asked. That one had been puzzling him for months.

"I have connections," Hermione said with a cryptic smile. "It was an owl to owl transmission." Her eyes flashed. She wouldn't divulge Buckwheat's identity for anything.

Harry blinked at her, stunned. He had always been impressed by his friend's resourcefulness, but it still astounded him that she managed to disappear quite well for nearly four months with no help from anyone.

"I can't believe you worked in a bar," Ron laughed. "You don't even drink."

"Actually bartenders don't drink, they pour. And after everything that's happened, I have had my fair share of alcohol. It's totally overrated."

"You drank?" the red-head asked, his eyes wide. "Why?" Then Ron's eyes narrowed. "What did you mean when said you had your 'fair share'?"

"Um… I didn't have any potions to help me, so I sort of used it for a while to mask the desire." She shrugged. "It at least made me a little sleepy. It wasn't really that effective." She shook her head a little embarrassed by her admission, but then realized at the time, she had no other options.

Ron and Harry shared a worried expression. She had been through a lot they knew. When they were angriest with her, it was like they had pictured her just able to come back at will. Sometimes they forgot she struggled constantly with the force of the spell. But the Latin markings on Pansy's and Ginny's skin reminded them of the ever-pressing compulsion; it was all they could think about for the last week.

"We were so worried about you Hermione, the things you said in your letter…" Hermione could see the muscles in Harry's jaw tense. "What happened…just before you came back? You faced Voldemort." Harry was almost relieved to know he could hear the experience from someone else view. When he had faced Voldemort alone in his fourth year it sounded almost too unreal, too unbelievable. Ginny had been possessed by a young Tom Riddle, but facing the current Dark Lord head-on was another matter. Finally he had a peer to discuss it with.

Hermione winced at the reference to Voldemort, remembering his burning presence, his murderous gaze. She took a deep breath and backed up in the story, deciding what she wanted to relate. She told them the greater portion of things— working at the bar with Frank, Roxy, Gabe, Nick and Danny, getting an apartment, meeting Jason at the motel after seeing Draco, leaving and going out on her own. Being kidnapped by Death Eaters. She made no mention of Victor. Harry's and Ron's jaws dropped at her description of the rescue of Kendra, and crawling through the air vent. It took her ten minutes just to explain to Ron what an air vent was.

Harry's face showed intense thought and concentration when she spoke of Voldemort's use of Legilimency to penetrate her mind. Hermione emphasized how important it would be for him to keep his Goddess as long as his could, to prevent Voldemort from seeing his thoughts. Harry wondered if perhaps that's why his Occlumency was going so much better this year.

Hermione became nervous describing the effects of desire and Lucius' cruelty in slipping her the lust potion. She couldn't bring herself to convey the other portion of events, what Snape's role was and how much more difficult his presence there had made it for her. Ron and Harry noticed her story lacked something and after Harry badgered her a bit with probing questions, Harry took the hint from Ron and eased up.

"What are you going to do now?" Ron asked quietly.

Hermione took his hand and squeezed, looking him in the eye. She smiled and then looked at Harry—they weren't going to like this very well. "I'm going to the Burrow, to spend time with my parents until we find out where we should go. I asked Professor Dumbledore… for permission to take my NEWTS early and graduate this year." She chewed the inside of her cheek. "I'll be back in two weeks to take them with the seventh years." Hermione's face was long, but her eyes were hopeful that her friends would understand.

"But why Hermione? It's all over," he said matter of factly. Then Harry protested more aggressively as he realized her sincerity. "You can't go! It'll be the way it used to be…" His voice was a gruff plea, his breath came in exasperated gasps. Yet another person was leaving him.

Ron caught her eye. Nothing would ever be the same. He knew it walking up here. "Harry," he said calmly, stopping his friend's appeal. "Hermione, you know we love you. I wish you would stay with us for the next school year, but… if that's not," he blinked his eyes a few times, looking away. His nose reddened, Ron becoming more emotional than he wanted. He cleared his throat, and turned to look at her again. "If that's not what you need, and Professor Dumbledore said it's alright, then I guess our question should be, where do we send the owlpost?" He smiled weakly and Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around Ron, grateful that he understood. Honestly, she should've been more worried about Harry.

"Are you at least going to tell us this time why you are leaving?" Harry demanded, his lips in an angry line.

Hermione looked apologetically at Harry. "I need some space." She licked her lips and swallowed hard. "I um…" she looked at Harry's shocked look and gasped when she read his misunderstanding. "God, Harry! Not away from you!"

She got kicked aside, Ron thought, his face frowning. "It's okay, Hermione. You don't have to talk about it."

"Thank you, Ron. I do actually, just... not now. It too…" The words caught in her throat, and realized she couldn't put anything into words.

"Did he treat you well?" Ron's question a whisper.

Hermione looked at him and nodded.

"How did you feel?" Ron asked, Harry watching intently.

After a long pause, Hermione turned her tearful eyes to the floor and whispered, "I felt… complete." Her feelings overcame her and she clutched onto Ron's shirt, crying on his shoulder for moment. Ron stroked her back and looked at Harry. They had never seen Hermione in such a state. She was the glue that held them together. What a role reversal.

Harry felt like a dolt for all that had preoccupied his mind when she was so obviously hurting. At least you and Ginny get to be together. I'm not going to be having any luck with my circumstance…

Hermione straightened herself and furiously wiped her tears. She would not permit herself to surrender to emotional weakness. "I'm sorry." She took some deep breaths. She still had her parents to go, and needed to save some energy for that conversation.

----------

Severus finally came to his senses and decided to try, albeit awkwardly— salvaging any of this morning's rather one-sided conversation with her. What must she think of him? He stormed out of his classroom, past several students, one of which had dared to knock on his classroom door before.

He went straight to the Gryffindor dorms, then felt uncomfortable requesting her presence so publicly. She couldn't still be with Dumbledore, but perhaps he would know where she was. His long hurried strides carried him to the Headmaster's Office and up the spiral staircase to interrupt a meeting already in progress.

Harry and Ron were seated facing Dumbledore, looking a bit frustrated. Actually— Harry was beating his fists against the arms on the chair he was sitting in and Ron looked like he was trying to pacify the ever-frustrated youth.

How typical of Potter. Dumbledore was listening intently to Harry's tirade about Hermione's intent to graduate early. When Snape entered the room there was dead silence. Harry and Ron glared at his intrusion.

Of course, Snape's experiences with Legilimency did not permit him clairvoyance enough to determine why his presence in the room at that moment bothered them so much. Snape misjudged and did what he normally had not done— he divulged the unknown.

He did not catch Dumbledore's subtle head shake, indicating he should remain silent.

"What, Potter?" He bit out tersely. "Not the suitor you would have chosen?" Snape's sneer faded immediately, recognizing his mistake. She hadn't told them.

Ron caught on quickly, and while he flamed an angry red, he disarmed Harry before he could cast.

Harry had shot up out of his chair and lunged towards Snape with his hand extended but found himself wandless. He spun on his friend and then turned back to Snape, unwilling to let the bastard out of his sight.

"Give me back my wand, Ron!" Harry green eyes flashed with hatred, standing perilously close to a man he should fear more than his foolish irritation let him.

Snape knew better than to give into the temptation to hex the boy, especially in front of Dumbledore. He was waiting for Potter to say what he really thought of him, but Weasley didn't give him the chance.

"No, Harry." Ron said firmly. "Go back the common room and cool off, mate. Think about what she said to us— think about it… and get a hold of yourself."

Harry gritted his teeth, his upper lip curled viciously at his enemy, and stormed out of Dumbledore's office before he choked Snape to death.

Snape couldn't help but uphold his reputation as a bastard. He crossed his arms in front of him and looked down on the boy with contempt. "And just what did she say, Mister Weasley?"

Ron remained silent, ignoring Snape. He placed Harry's wand gently on Dumbledore's table, taking his time, letting the silence linger as his gut clenched.

Hermione. In front of Voldemort… blessing Snape…

"I can't believe she's in love with you," he muttered under his breath, as much to himself as to Snape. "No wonder she didn't tell us." He face was long and almost sad, his voice was empty and disappointed. "I need to borrow your Floo, Professor Dumbledore."

Ron didn't ask, he just grabbed a handful of Floo power and stood in the fireplace.

"What, not going to get in a good hex before you go?" Snape chided meanly. He hadn't gotten the response he wanted, so try, try again…

"Severus…" Dumbledore said with a hint of warning, and glared at him disapprovingly.

Ron just looked at him with immense sadness, still angry at Hermione's departure, but quickly understanding more and more about why she left. Of a million things he could say, he just couldn't find the energy to articulate it. Ron had a hot temper, but shook his head. Snape just wasn't worth it.

Snape saw Ron's expression change from puzzled, to disgusted, to sad, to resigned. Finally, just when he thought the boy would say nothing, Ron raised his hand to activate the Floo and then lowered it, allowing the powder to slip through his fingers back into the container, brushing his hands off on his robes.The young wizard decided that he would say a thing or two, and his irate speech stunned Snape into utter silence.

"You just can't help being a bloody git can you? We have endured, Hermione has endured— your cruel, sarcastic insults for years. She is one of the best, kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. This year she had guys asking her out all the time, but she turned them down. She even turned down Anthony! For you!? We were racking our brains all year long to see what we had missed, some clue about her feelings. Who had she spent the most time with… what her interests were... No wonder she left if this is the kind of reception she got. And still she loves you!" Ron stood still rather than pace, giving a lecture that would make his mother proud. "I don't get it. But I tell you what— she does 'get it'. Hermione knew she would be kicked to the curb…"

That phrase stung Snape deeply, remembering Hermione's own words two days ago in Dumbledore's office.

"She knew she would have her use and you would be done with her. She planned to leave. And I thought from her letter, that she was wrong… I thought to myself, 'Any man would see how wonderful she was and they would have a happily ever after.' And here's my answer." Ron shook his head and Snape was disgraced by Ron's reproach. The boy normally stammered too much to give such a barbed tongue-lashing. "You want to know what she said? I'll tell you what she said. She said you made her feel complete. How do you like that? And now she's left when she should be here!" Ron's last words were placing all blame on Snape. He might as well have cursed him for the look on the professor's face. Snape's jaw slackened a bit.

"She is ready to graduate, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore interjected.

"No, you misunderstand me. She should be here because he is here," Ron pointed his finger like an accusation toward Snape. "And the only reason I can think of that she is not here, is that she was dismissed like she was…" Ron caught his breath like he couldn't bear to speak it— "Like she was cheap." Ron shook his head, his lip quivering in anger. He was going to say one more thing, but bit his tongue and opted for the Floo powder. The green flames cast shadows further exaggerating his tense jaw. "The Burrow."

Their was a brief silence after the flames died. Snape sat in the seat that Ron had vacated and perched his forehead on his right hand, attempting to rub the tension away from a developing headache.

"She's not cheap. I never thought she was cheap," Severus thought, not realizing his anguished murmur had been received by Dumbledore.

"I know you didn't, my boy," Dumbledore said.

Complete. Snape rubbed his temple as the painful words echoed in his head. "She's staying at the Burrow?"

"That is where her parents are yes, Severus." Dumbledore held a glint of caution in his eye, his wrinkles more pronounced as he narrowed his eyes. "What are your plans?"

"You mean what are my 'intentions' old man? I don't need this from you," Snape hissed. "You act like I'm going to court her or something."

Dumbledore's temper flared behind his beard, making his cheeks flash rather hotly. Tossing a piece of his morning biscuit to Fawkes, he leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. Dumbledore clasped his fingers together and recalled his discussion with Minerva. Snape needed companionship badly, and Dumbledore was worried that perhaps he might choose this opportunity to finally cling to something good. He had seen Snape's change in behavior toward Hermione in the last months. Minerva hadn't seemed as concerned, perhaps that was because she had stopped seeing Hermione as a young student and now regarded her with the respect of a grown woman. Minerva had encouraged him to 'let things happen naturally'. In the end, he hadn't needed to do anything because the matter had appeared to take care of itself. Minerva would probably hex him for what he was about to say, but at least it was a softened version of what he would've said otherwise.

"I suppose I could say nothing at all since she will no longer be a student here. But your occupation concerns me— and she is concerned for you as well, I'm sure. Perhaps that is as good a reason for her to leave as any." He left it open ended, just in case Severus had done a fool thing like dismiss her. Dumbledore did not dare probe into Miss Granger's personal affairs when she sat before him earlier. She did not need him to rub salt in her wounds.

"You have a talent for pointing out the obvious. Do you really think I would deliberately pursue a relationship with her, knowing that it could put her in jeopardy?" She's already in jeopardy, a little voice said in his head. You could protect her. Snape made for the exit, unwilling to remain any longer.

Dumbledore caught him before he left. "Why did you come to see me, Severus?"

Snape stopped but didn't turn around. "It doesn't matter," he said to the door. "She's gone. I'd just make matters worse anyway." Snape left, avoiding further uncomfortable questions.

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In departing through the flames, Ron couldn't imagine how Hermione could have said she felt complete if Snape had treated her so poorly. But Hermione said he had treated her well… Maybe she was just saying that to put his mind at ease. Snape was a man who liked to be alone. He alienated everyone. It was just like Hermione to reach out to someone like Snape, if he would be receptive or not. But Ron couldn't figure it out. Hermione wasn't that thick. She loved a challenge sure, but Snape? How had she fallen for him? It was real, of that he was certain. He promised to be there for her and that's exactly what he'd do.

Hermione was at the kitchen table wrapped in her parents' embrace. They had not let her go yet. Mrs. Weasley's cheeks were all red and her face was streaked with happy tears. She had put tea on and was shakily pouring Earl Grey into well used teacups.

Upon seeing Ron, Mrs. Weasley seized him by the neck immediately, kissing and hugging him fiercely as if he were the prodigal child. Ron took a seat at the end of the table, allowing Hermione room to talk with her parents.

"We were so worried…" Wendy Granger said through her sniffling.

"Hermione, why didn't you come to us?" her father asked, disappointed that his little girl hadn't confided in him the way she always had.

Hermione didn't know where to start, and wondered how much she should say. Her gaze shifted about, not wanting to make eye contact and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Mrs. Weasley saw her looking kind of cornered, and occupied the space beside her, setting a cup of tea on the table between the distraught woman and her parents. It was a helpful tool, having an object to focus on, an inanimate object to toy with while uncomfortable subjects were discussed. She had known this from experience.

Hermione clutched the tea and nodded her thanks to Mrs. Weasley, who had always been to her recollection a gracious hostess, and a second mother. Hermione mashed her lips together, choosing her words carefully. "If I talked with you, I wouldn't have been able to keep what we were planning a secret. We wouldn't have been able to go through with it…"

"You mean the spell at the Yule Ball," Wendy said.

Hermione sat up a bit in her chair and her eyes widened, seeing how calmly her mother talked about it. Maybe she wouldn't have to do so much explaining.

"I had to fill them in, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley admitted, patting her arm. Hermione turned and saw Ron sitting next to his mother, quietly looking at her. The sympathetic look in his eyes helped her somewhat, but Ron found himself unable to maintain eye contact with her, and instead trained his eyes on his own beverage.

"For the spell, we had to leave. And if we told anyone…"

"Pansy said Dumbledore would've never let you complete the spell," her mother said. "But from what she told us, it sounds like there wasn't much of a choice."

"Pansy talked to you?" Hermione asked, looking more toward her father, who had still said very little.

Robert Granger found his tongue and spoke up.

"Hermione, you had us so worried. The last time we saw you, young lady, we were at our home packing because you said the wizarding world was at war and we needed to hide." His tone was slowly rising and his rate of speech was picking up. "So we packed all of our belongings, and Dumbledore hid us. The only contact we had with you was by letter, and the last letter we received was from you at Christmas. Then you disappear, with no word of your whereabouts…"

"Dad…" She wanted his lecture to stop.

"And all I could think of…"

"Dad please…"

"…was that the war TOOK MY DAUGHTER!" Robert pounded his fist on the table in front of her and the teacups shook. He immediately regretted his outburst after seeing Hermione's face. He had never thrown anything or pounded his fists or raised a hand to either his wife or daughter, though the thought of losing either one of them made him enraged.

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she heard her father speak more harshly with her than she could ever remember. She felt his disappointment like a thick molasses in her lungs. Her father couldn't help but speak to her like she was a little girl, but she wasn't anymore. Hermione rubbed her face for a moment and took a deep breath to center herself. She didn't feel the same as she had last year, and everything felt a little strange, a little… out of place. She felt out of place. Hogwarts felt different, being with Ron and Harry felt different.

"Dad… I am so sorry." She gripped his arm and looked at him intensely with the brown eyes she had inherited from him. "What did Pansy tell you?"

"She told us that you couldn't complete your part of the spell. She said that you were in love," he said, looking at his daughter with more of the fatherly kindness she knew him for.

Hermione nodded and spoke softly. "I um… I'm in with love someone who I can't be with. Not now… maybe not ever." She closed her eyes and took a sip of tea, and tried to still her hands which were trembling slightly. "I thought I could protect him by hiding, but the spell didn't give me the option of backing out."

"So you completed the spell," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yes."

All of the adults at the table audibly sighed relief, comprehending the seriousness of that one word statement. The wards were up.

Hermione rubbed her forehead, lost in thought and made eye contact with Ron again. There was something he wasn't telling.

"Are you alright? That woman with the pink hair…"

"Tonks," Mrs. Weasley offered.

"Yes… she said you lived in a cheap hotel you could rent by the hour in London." Before Hermione could answer her mother continued, "But she said you protected the door with runes, and that you did a good job of things. She said you were a bartender at a club."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I needed money, so I got a job pouring shots so I could earn cash for tips. Jake helped me out. He gave me some money to help me start out."

"Harry told us you went to see him but didn't call the cell phone we bought for him," Hermione's father said.

"Wait a second… Ron? How did Harry even get a cell phone to work? Hogwarts, A History says clearly…"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted. "Dumbledore never consults that book to tell him what he can and cannot charm to work. Did you even keep the number?"

Hermione fished in her jeans pocket and pulled out the soft folded piece of white scrap paper that Jake had given her a month ago with the number. She held it up between her two fingers. "I kept it with me always," she said with a smile.

"Why didn't you call?" Ron asked. He stopped pushing his teacup around on its saucer, ending the rattling sound it made.

"If I did, you would've found me. And if I spoke to you, if I heard your voice— I wouldn't have been able to stay away, like I needed to." She breathed a quick breath and shook off the feeling of loneliness. Now all she wanted to do was run back to Hogwarts to Severus' rooms and demand his attention. Hermione tamped her feelings down, buried them low like she had tried to do for months before. "But I'm back now. The spell has concluded, and I'm due to take my NEWTS in a couple of weeks to graduate early." She plastered on a smile to cover her inner turmoil. Diversionary tactics she hoped would work.

"What? Graduate early? After all you've been through, surely you're not ready," her mother said, grasping Hermione's hand.

"Mum, I can't go back to Hogwarts. It's time to move on."

"Move on? Who was this boy anyway, Hermione? I can't believe you left because you couldn't face that. It's not like you to run away from your responsibilities," her father couldn't help but lecture.

Upon hearing the word 'boy', Hermione's lips pursed. Biting her tongue, she hoped she could avoid talking about 'who' and focus on what would happen now.

Mrs. Weasley fiddled with a loose piece of yarn on her crocheted sweater. "Now that you've completed the spell, are you going to be able to continue your relationship like Pansy and Ginny have?" She had heard the full story of the girls' tales of course, but knew by the look in Hermione's eyes that the girl was running. Ron winced inwardly at every painful inquiry, absorbing how Hermione had carefully skirted these questions.

"It's too complicated." Hermione sighed and watched the steam rise from her cup. "I plan to get a flat and begin looking for a job. I've read up a lot on security measures and I think we'll be safe there," she said to her parents, once again trying desperately to avoid an in-depth conversation about a relationship that could not be.

"Actually, we've intruded on the Weasley's hospitality enough," Robert said.

"Yes," Wendy said, taking her husband's hand. "We're ready to go home."

"In Reading? But you can't! It's not safe," Hermione said in shrill voice. Her heart was beating fast. She had lived in fear of discovery for four months. It was hard to stop being so suspicious and distrustful of every choice.

"We've talked to Dumbledore and he has agreed to modify our home. People won't be able to apparate in and out, and our fireplace was taken off the Floo network. He can't make it Unplottable, but we'll be wearing portkeys so that if there is an emergency we can come here."

Hermione was dumbstruck. It was totally bizarre to hear her father speaking fluent wizard. Her parents fingered the identical tiny silver Christmas tree pins they wore on their collars, an odd choice for a portkey in spring. She guessed living with the Weasleys caught them up on a few things, and perhaps made them a bit more accepting of the culture of which she had become a part. For that, she was grateful. They weren't outsiders on her life anymore, and now it might actually be that they could accept that she would take a career in potions or whatever she chose. She knew her parents had always fantasized about her becoming a scientist and attending a Muggle university. 'Perhaps you could even integrate some of what you learned in the wizard world,' her father would say, like she was on some seven year long conference, and when it ended she would return home with some thrilling new perspective on 'normal' society.

"Maybe you won't mind staying with us for a week or so until you find your new flat, sweetheart?" Wendy asked.

Hermione nodded and hugged her parents again.

"We'll go pack our things. Thank you so much Molly, for having us. You've been such a dear friend." Wendy hugged Mrs. Weasley like a part of her own family and they left the kitchen to the back bedroom.

The famous Weasley clock chimed and cuckooed, breaking the still air in the silent kitchen. Only Hermione and Ron remained. Hermione hooked a finger in the handle, spinning her teacup around in its saucer. "Thanks for being here. You've been… a really good friend."

Ron scooted into the chair his mother had vacated and looked at Hermione. "We, I mean um… Harry and I— we were talking to Dumbledore and um…" He swallowed. "Snape came in."

Hermione paled, her eyes closed and breathed through her mouth. She could feel it coming.

"He assumed we knew I think. I just um… I wanted to be here for you. If you needed to talk," Ron said.

Hermione eyes popped open. She couldn't believe it. No judgment. No lecture. Ron despised Severus. He berated him after every class and whenever they crossed him in the hall for years. Ron was here, but Harry wasn't. Oh God, Harry.

"I haven't told anyone. Professor Dumbledore somehow… well, you know him, he just knows. Severus… We can't… you know he can't… It's too dangerous. I don't know if he'd want to anyway," she said softly. No trace of a tear, but the pain on her face was evident. "Oh God, Ron! What's going to happen to me if something happens to him?" Hermione grew quiet and Ron did what he could do. He pulled her into a hug and held her tightly, wondering how she could feel so strongly about someone who showed nothing but contempt for everyone around him. Obviously Hermione saw something different there.

Mrs. Weasley poked her head in and seeing the pair, ducked out to let them be. Secretly she had hoped that she and Ron would be an item, but that was long ago. Hermione would have never stayed away from Hogwarts for so long if Ron was the object of her desire.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked finally.

Ron let Hermione go. "He said something like, 'What Mr. Potter, not the suitor you would've picked?' I mean what a bastard!" Hermione gave him a stern look. "Don't give me that look, he was being an arse! And Harry almost killed him right there, but I took his wand."

"You didn't!"

"I did. Harry left and Snape goaded me on, so I tried to ignore him. Well, I almost left without saying anything. Then I yelled at him, about how you turned other guys down for him…" Hermione's jaw dropped. "Well, it's true! Face it Hermione, you were noticed." Hermione blushed a bit. "I told him that I couldn't believe you loved someone like him. And I basically said he was a stupid git if he couldn't see what a wonderful person you are, and that if he had treated you the way you deserved that you would still be at Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes were watery and she sniffed. Ron defended me.

"Was he really good to you, Hermione?" Ron asked softly, a bit embarrassed at asking something so personal of her. He knew what had to have happened, and was as much concerned about her physical wellbeing as her emotional state.

She could only nod, because if she spoke the tears would flow again and she wouldn't be able to stop.

--------------------

"I can't believe her!" Harry kept repeating over and over while he stormed around Gryffindor Common Room, stomping up and down the stairs, generally making a nuisance of himself to all of the students who were trying to study. A dozen huffs and shushing noises later, Ginny finally walked in and decided to see what was the matter with her boyfriend. Harry was wonderful guy, but he had his wearisome moments. She marched up to the boys dormitories and everyone left except Harry. She shut and locked the door.

"What can't you believe?" Ginny huffed, while once again she cajoled her hotheaded boyfriend to rein in his emotions.

"Hermione!" He yelled into the air, then he abruptly turned on Ginny. "Hey…" He pointed and accusing finger. "Did you know?!"

"Damn it, Harry— Stop directing your anger at me!" She calmed her own voice down a notch. "Know what?"

"Hermione and Snape, that's what!"

Ginny's mouth formed a silent 'oh' of realization as all of the little far-fetched clues came back to her— A long summer spent at Headquarters, no interest in other boys, her little research project, her nervousness every morning before a Hogsmeade weekend, her emphasis on how a relationship could never work out. No way. Oh shit… Snape and Hermione! Oh Hermione…

"I can't believe she had sex with him!" Revolted, Harry's face wore a look of disgust and he continued to pace.

Ginny was kind of sickened too, but that concern really wasn't the first one that sprang to mind. She came to her senses pretty quickly. "Can you believe I had sex with you?" Ginny crossed her arms in front of her and plopped down on his bed.

"What are you talking about?" Harry stooped pacing, his angry thoughts interrupted by Ginny's ridiculous question.

"Can you believe that I had sex with you?" She asked more slowly, deliberately enunciating each word.

Harry softened at the change in topic. He hated it when he had no idea what she was getting at, but wasn't about to stick his foot in his mouth. "Of course… but we love each other, it's different…"

"How is it different? Think about it Harry… What happened as soon as I came back from the caves? What was I like?"

Harry grew beet red just thinking about it, and then he superimposed the emotions of an uncontrollable Ginny on Hermione. Ooohh… Hermione with Snape. Ick.

"That's right Harry," Ginny continued, watching Harry add everything up. "That's why she left, because of that reaction right there. She was afraid of being refused, of being discarded by someone she loved more than anything. At least we get to be together."

Harry didn't know what to say. Anger worked best for him, so he latched on to that. "I'll kill him."

"Harry, don't be stupid! What are you talking like that for? What was Snape going to do, huh? Do you think for one moment you could have refused me? They had to complete the spell so the wards would come up!" She was trying to talk sense to him, but it wasn't working.

"He probably insulted her, he drove her away!" Harry said with clenched fists, and desperately searching for other reasons to be angry with Snape. He was back to pacing.

"You are really beginning to upset me, Harry." Ginny gritted her teeth, becoming truly angry. "First of all, Hermione goes where Hermione wants to go because she's a grown woman. You know he treated her well because she told you so. You don't know how Snape feels about her because he's not one to share that sort of thing with anybody. I bet…" she hesitated. "Forget it." She turned her back to him. It would be lost on Harry so she stopped trying.

"What? You bet what?" Harry asked more quietly.

Ginny huffed and faced her lover with tears in her eyes, relieved that she and Harry could be open, have discussions, share their concerns. "I bet that he cares for her more than he can admit. She can't stay because they can't do anything because he's a spy and her teacher. You saw him. He went all over the place, with you, looking for her, talking with neighbors. I saw him knock the mirror over at the Order meeting. She blessed him, Harry. She chose him. You can't tell me that the blessing didn't do something to you…"

Harry sat on the bed beside her and still huffed, but couldn't ignore what Ginny was telling him. He picked a bit fluff off the bed and tossed it on the floor. He took her hand in his and turned it over and over. "I can't believe she loves him…"

"But she does."

"Poor Hermione," Harry said, tracing the veins on the back of Ginny's hand.

Ginny knew Hermione would eventually be okay. She had friends to support her. Snape was a loner. Who did he have? Poor Snape.

------------------

Mrs. Weasley was kind enough to escort Hermione to Diagon Alley so that she could get some money from Gringotts and replace her wand. She had been so understanding and surprisingly, as Ron had done, asked very few questions. Perhaps he had talked to her.

"I'll just be little while, Mrs. Weasley."

"Don't you worry, dear. Take all the time you need, I'll just pop in to see how Fred and George are doing." Mrs. Weasley toddled over toward Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which had become extremely popular in London. So popular in fact, that Fred and George were made pretty respectable by Molly's standards and she finally supported their efforts. They had agreed to return to school the following year, but made arrangements to have off campus privileges to keep their business going. They had plans on employing Dobby to boot, covering their enterprise during the school day.

Hermione could finally perform magic now that she had been deemed 'of age' by the Ministry. It was a relief because she needed to practice off campus. Hermione walked up the step to the narrow crooked door and turned the handle. The memorable tinkling sound could be heard announcing her arrival in a store she hadn't seen the inside of in five, well… seven or so years.

"Well, well, well. Miss Granger, I didn't expect to see you so soon but here you are." Mr. Ollivander's silvery eyes twinkled with a mysterious glint, they seemed almost magical like Moody's swiveling eye. He would've greeted her by describing her wand, but that would have been cruel under the circumstances.

"Good morning, Mr. Ollivander." This room was filled with options and opportunities… Hermione looked around the cozy room, the shelves were crowded in tall stacks of wand boxes like some unending game of Jenga… she wondered if the towers of slender teetering cartons ever fell. It didn't quite hold the same magical fascination that her first visit held, and she was a bit sad that she had to replace her old trusted wand at all. Why did they have to break it? She had nightmares about that. She chewed her lip. "Could I ever find another wand?" she thought, and then realized she spoke that thought out loud.

"Ah well, most wizards and witches aren't very happy to replace an old friend, but what an opportunity to make a new one…" He pulled a box off the shelf and tossed it on his desk. "I daresay— you certainly made fine use of your wand. Now, such a pity you have to buy another," Mr. Ollivander regarded her with a cheerful twinkle in his eye— he was only too happy to sell her another wand. "Professor Dumbledore told me you would be coming by…" he pulled a long box from an upper shelf as he murmured her measurements under his breath. Placed the selection on his table, he retrieved two more.

She smiled as he spoke to her in a thoughtful way, his voice raising and lowing with his pleasantries. He was a cordial gentleman.

"Where are your strengths? What will you be using your wand for primarily?"

Hermione's face lost its cheer. Her first reaction would've been to say 'potions' or 'transfiguration'. But with the war…She bit her lip and adopted a look the older gentleman had seen on many a long face.

"I see. Miss Granger, if you will permit me to say so— wands are like love. They become an extension of ourselves, a way of channeling the strongest and best parts of us. Find the wand that suits you, don't choose a wand based on what is currently happening around you. Now that you have chosen what you would like to do with your magical pursuits, you can choose a wand that will give you the best results, and make you the most satisfied. The more satisfied you are with your wand, and with your magical work, the more confident you will feel when other opportunities present themselves to use it."

"I thought you always said the wand chooses the wizard."

"Ah yes, but you are choosing right now in your head. You are asking yourself what you want the wand to do. And the wand that chooses will be answering to your wishes my dear. Can you imagine what answers Tom Riddle was looking for when his wand chose him?"

Hermione shuddered. Harry's had the same core... no not the same, but similar. "Are you telling me that Tom's wand did all of those terrible things and not him," she said a little more harshly than she'd intended.

"No. Of course not. But the wand capable of doing those things sensed his intents and selected him because it was able to comply. Hundreds of wands refused his hand... peculiar." Ollivander stopped for a moment looking off at no point in particular. "Ah well, let us get back to your needs..."

"I used my wand primarily for potions and transfiguration. I certainly enjoy charms, but…"

"But that's not where your yearnings lie?" He kicked himself over a few yards on his rolling ladder.

"No. My previous wand was springy, and it worked fine…" She called up to him. The vendor retrieved another box and then shook his head and thrust it back into its place. He looked at her intensely, sizing her up. He was a good listener, always wondering what someone was not saying.

"But…"

"Mr. Ollivander, I had an experience with someone else's wand… but I'm not sure why I felt so connected with it. It was like holding my own for the first time, but it was not at all structurally similar to my own wand."

Mr. Ollivander spun his head to look at her intensely, scrutinizing her. Interesting. "I know you've heard me say you'll never get the same results with another wizard's wand, yet—that rule didn't quite apply to you. Did it? That's very rare, Miss Granger, very strange indeed," he said stepping down from the ladder. "And whose wand did you hold, if I may ask?"

She swallowed, wondering if she should say. "Professor Snape's."

I remember well…twelve inches, dragon heartstring, ebony black hickory… Mr. Ollivander frowned a bit, deep in thought and quickly withdrew four more boxes from the shelves, all the while muttering… "Stiffer, more inflexible, dragon heartstring… no unicorn hair… ah…"

Hermione thought hard about what she wanted more than anything. To brew brilliantly, transfigure well, and to defend quickly... Defense. God, that really was more important to me than I thought. She still felt a keen bit of revenge was needed on Malfoy, but deep down what she really wanted was to survive and protect those she loved.

Hermione tried several wands, just like her first day in Diagon Alley, and after five or six wands had been tried, found one that was pleasantly heavy, a deep brown color, tapering to a point that yielded the slightest bit with waving. She could perform her charms, but for work in potions — it would be excellent. She spun it on her hand like she had when practicing the Wall of Desire protection spell. It twirled almost without effort, which was surprising because of its weight. She gave it a wave and sparks shot out of the end, lighting the dark room brilliantly in waves of purple and gold light, a cheering charm made by accident. .

She and Ollivander felt happier already.

"Very good, Miss Granger. There you are. Eleven and a quarter inches, made of ash and dragon heartstring. Are you sure you like the feel of it? It seems you were testing the weight of it…"

"I like it. I like a challenge. It's a good wand. It feels… like a good match," Hermione said, admiring her new wand and thinking about Severus.

"So long as you're sure... you're not hesitant..."

"No. This is the one. I'll take it," she said firmly. She placed twelve gold Galleons on his counter for the wand, noting his prices had gone up, but then she wasn't a student anymore.

Mr. Ollivander was a peculiar fellow who often spoke cryptically, much like Dumbledore, he always left you with the feeling that you went into the store thinking about wands, and left the store thinking about something totally different.

----------------------

Hermione spent a few days with her parents and getting a little more claustrophobic with each passing hour. Her mother kept tiptoeing around her and offering to make her tea. Her father kept checking on her while she read, probably just to make sure she was still there and that she hadn't skipped out or anything. She was doing fine on her own, but their constant over-protectiveness and extreme sympathy for her situation was bloody depressing. She had to get out.

"Mum, Dad?" It was probably one of the first conversations she had initiated with her parents since her departure from the Burrow. "I'm going out, okay?"

"Honey?" Her mother came in quickly from the kitchen, rubbing her hands on her apron. Her father was wearing a matching apron, following closely behind her, nibbling a piece of cheese from ingredients for dinner.

"I'm going a bit stir crazy. I'm going to go next door and see Jake. Is that okay?"

"O-of course it is, Hermione," her mother said a little uncertainly, and then glanced at Robert for his input.

Hermione looked at her wary father and answered his silent question. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon. I'll call if I'll be late. I'm not going anywhere."

Her father sighed. "Hermione, we're sorry. We miss you, but you should go out. Have a good time. I know once you and Jake get together you're bound to lose track of time... Stay out as late as you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… 'girlie girl'." Her father flashed Hermione a wonderfully bright smile, then it faded a bit in recognition of how that term didn't quite sound right anymore.

Hermione beamed back at her father and gave her parents a quick hug. She went back into her seat and picked up the phone. After two rings she heard his familiar 'hello'.

"Jake?"

"HERMIONE! Oh my God! How are you? Where are you?" Jake's words spilled out in a rush of excitement.

A smile broke across her face and let the comfortable feeling of friendship enfold her. "I'd be better to have company like you. As for where I am…" she twirled her finger around the twisted telephone cord. "I'm two doors down, same as it ever was."

Jake hung up the phone and Hermione heard the dial tone. She got the hint and ran outside to greet her friend like she should've done two days ago. She slammed the door behind her and saw him running up the street, they collided and he picked her up off the ground in a crushing hug.

"Hermione! Damn, when did you get back?" Jake held her out at arms length, squeezing his hands to test the meat on her bones. Hermione winced, "Two days ago, helping my parents settle in." She hunched her shoulders and tucked her face down, peering up at Jake while bracing herself for the playful slap she knew was coming.

Jake was about to slug her in the arm, but stopped halfway when he finally wondered how exactly her hair had managed to grow out inside of a month. "Hey, is this a wig?" Jake looked at her in confusion, examining her hair with his fingers. "It's real…" Even some miracle hair serum wouldn't grow her hair out that quickly in a month.

Hermione didn't know quite how to respond, tempted to finally talk to him about her witch status, but knew better. "It is real, just not mine, not yet anyway. I had extensions put in." She was shocked at how well she lied, a skill she slowly developed after a year with Pansy and six with the wacky antics of Ron and Harry. She removed the hair band from her left wrist and pulled her hair back into a bushy knot on the back of her head. She kept it handy to prevent her hair hanging around her while she read, though this time she was trying to prevent a closer inspection of her scalp.

Jake pulled her into a tight hug again. "You look a bit better than the last time I saw you, you know," he whispered into her hair.

"Yeah. I am."

"Want to talk about it over a sub? If you're not too hungry, I bet we could actually split it this time."

Hermione grinned and took a deep relaxing breath. She should have come to see Jake days ago. He always knew how to put her at ease.

Snape had finally found courage enough to go to the Weasley's only to find that Hermione had returned to her parents' home in Reading. He had come to talk with Hermione because he could not, in good conscience, let her think she was cheap or more importantly, let her think that he had so little honor that he would reinforce that belief by childishly avoiding her. It was embarrassing enough to go to The Burrow and not have any excuse to be there, Order business or some such.

Molly was surprised to see him, and actually asked if he had an Order task for her or Arthur. Her heart skipped a beat upon opening the door, and steeled herself for bad news. Snape tended to be the bearer of grim news more often than ordinary conversation, but then she mostly saw him at Order meetings and never at other more sociable settings— especially her own home. When he asked about Hermione, Molly's heart leapt again, fearing for the girl's safety after all she had been through. Snape had quickly dismantled any thoughts of danger with rapid and somewhat tongue-tied speech, and left Molly in a confused wake of wondering why he would need to speak with Hermione at all.

Snape disapparated to a spot just outside of her parents' home, concealing himself behind a bush and in shadow. He had been there before, the lovely suburban street was lined with towering oaks that provided a pleasant shade in beautiful cool weather in late April. Her parents' two-story brownstone stood amidst mature trees. Creeping ivy crawled up the brick, softening the harsh lines and intermingling with a freshly trimmed hedge. Stained glass windows framed the entrance and a large front window opened to their living room. He always disliked that window— it offered no privacy. Now the window was charmed to show a static picture of a living room with no one in it, even though her family was likely home. He could feel the heavy wards around it. It felt like the work of Dumbledore, and while Snape felt a surge of anger, he could hardly direct it at the Headmaster since Snape hadn't bothered asking him if she had moved.

Snape sucked in a sharp breath as Hermione slammed the door and ran down the street. At first he had a mind to chase after her, maybe she was in some kind of danger. Then he saw her collide with Jake as the older boy picked her visibly off the ground, her legs dangling. She was happy to see him. It looked like she was recovering well. For crying out loud, it had been less than a week! Snape felt a pang of hurt, why wasn't she a bit more distraught? Jake and Hermione hugged tightly again and Snape thought, she hugged me like that once. Actually no she didn't. She loved me. Loved? Is she getting over me?

Jealousy hit Snape hard as he watched Jake and Hermione walk to his house, chatting away amicably, Jake's broad arm hooked around her neck. It was impossible to determine if there was something there. He was about to leave, but decided to continue to watch. He took the position in the back of the house, where it had the most windows. Taking refuge under a shady tree on the hill where the Order members on watch duty used to camp out, he could see clearly through the kitchen window. Soon enough he saw Hermione hugging someone who must have been Jake's mother. Using a charm to see more closely, he watched them make an enormous sandwich. Jake had described this activity to him before, and the description of how hungry Hermione was in finishing the whole thing by herself in five minutes forced him to recall truly, how much she had been through after she nearly starved in the caves. She left the forest with next to nothing and came here with much less, in a filthy mess on this kitchen floor.

Hermione broke herself away from the sandwich making expedition and looked at the linoleum where she lay not a month ago. Jake's mother was asking for her condiment choices but she hadn't heard her. Hermione snapped her head around, "Oh, um mayonnaise and a little mustard. Thanks."

Jake watched her walk the kitchen as she sorted through her experiences. She looked at the floor and her gaze followed a path to the door. Hermione's fingers skimmed the window ledge, retracing her steps.

Snape held his breath as she opened the back door, and descended the steps. She looked around, walking leisurely around the bush she had hidden behind. Finally, she sat on the stone steps and put her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes. Snape could see it from where he was sitting that she was tired. Jake came through and took a spot beside her on the narrow steps and placed the completed sandwich in front of them so they could share it.

Hermione took a deep breath and they ate slowly, cutting jokes and catching up on the latest gossip in the neighborhood. They decided to go in and watch a movie afterward. Halfway through Hermione's portion of the sub, she stopped and put it down on her plate. She felt terribly full, or felt the empty place that could not be filled by a sandwich. She wiped her lips with her napkin, and Jake put down his sandwich too, more intent on Hermione's slow methodical movements and facial expression. Snape noticed their silence, it was deafening from here.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione turned on her friend and wept heavily on his shoulder. She hadn't cried in days and finally let out all of her frustrations and confusing feeling bubble to the surface. She heaved and sobbed, certain all of the neighbors could hear her, and Jake rubbed her back, making shushing noises.

Hermione felt like she was dying. She didn't know what was worse, suffering in her desire and unrequited love, or living after loving him. She couldn't help but think about that night, unable to recall more of the cloudy details of their conversation that evening from her potion induced fog. Jake just held her, comforting her without question. She felt almost a surge of outrage that Jake was holding her and not Severus. She pounded a fist lightly against her friend's chest in futility. The conflict resulted in her clenched stomach and a choke in her throat which only made her cry harder.

Snape's eyes smarted in seeing her sobs. He could kick himself for feeling jealous. He did this to her. She was trying to lead some normal life now and probably felt like she didn't belong anywhere. First she ran from Hogwarts, not even confiding in her two best friends. Now she was in the Muggle world where she couldn't confide in anyone at all. He wasn't going to make it worse for her by dredging everything up when she was trying to put in all behind her. She'll be better off.

-----------

On the fifth day Hermione was beside herself. She had been studying for her NEWTS non-stop and while she had been extended a very special permission to check out books from the library at Hogwarts, she didn't relish the idea of returning to check out more. She needed a distraction.

Hermione was already preoccupied with where she could live, and decided to write a letter to Professor McGonagall for suggestions of how to begin, as she wanted to explore the possibility of making her flat Unplottable. 12 Grimmauld Place had been that way for ages, but her parents' home was a Muggle place. It would cause problems for everyone who always knew it to be there, neighbors, relatives and other people already knew where it was located. Their only solution would've been to move, and the Grangers were well settled in their home. They weren't about to do that.

Professor McGonagall had done her very best before she left to make sure Hermione knew she had an ear if she needed it, or anything else for that matter. She sent her response by way of owl, and told her that Tonks of all people would be happy to help her locate a place. Hermione shrunk a little in reading the line in her note that read, 'Tonks has been all over London in the last few weeks, she knows all of the out of the way places.' Hermione knew it wasn't meant in an ill way, but it just cemented the idea further in her mind that everyone had been looking for her. She was right to think that people kept a lookout for her at home and at Jake's and indeed her other family's homes as well. She felt more guilt at that than anything. But what's done is done.

Tonks' cheery attitude lifted Hermione's spirits as they looked at about a dozen flats, some more financially in line with her means than others. The landlords would leave them be for a bit and Hermione found that you could magic quite a bit in the way of space sometimes, but it didn't necessarily mean that electricity, plumbing and other necessities could be taken care of by magic.

Hermione finally settled for a flat that was somewhere in a more moderate range of price. Her parents were willing to help her out for a month or two until she could get on her feet. She had been promised some of her grandmother's furniture from storage, and gave her a hodgepodge of old kitchen appliances and plates to get her started. It was in central London in a little out of the way place, where privacy for apparating was abundant. There was a nearby grocer and a string of small cafés, coffee shops, and delis. It brightened a rather picturesque backdrop against the typically wet and drearier parts of London.

Walking around the area near her flat, she almost didn't recognize Rue Nineteen as she passed it. Nooo… that's silly. Truthfully, she felt beautiful up there, singing in front of all those people, once her nervous jitters dissipated. But then, she was singing to Severus that evening. She needed to feel beautiful again and kick the uncomfortable past behind her. Realizing that she needed work desperately, she decided to risk it. Maybe Mr. Phelps… no 'Tom'— maybe Tom would remember Myra Winters. Hermione looked down at her attire. Her hair hung around her shoulders, she was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a button down collared sleeveless blouse. She frowned. Her attire was a far cry from the sleek camel suit she had worn to her interview. And how exactly did she expect to get a job from him? Myra walked out, didn't pick up her pay. She laughed to herself. It's not as if the moment he sees you he's going to pull out 500 pounds and give it to you. She looked at her reflection in the window and touched up her lipstick before knocking on the door.

"We don't have any openings for waitstaff right now, I'm sorry," the woman groaned through the door.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Please… is Tom here?"

The woman was a little taken aback at her use of his first name. Her eyes narrowed. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No ma'am, but if he's free later, I can come back." Hermione suggested, trying to sound more professional than she felt in such casual attire.

"Who should I say is calling?"

"Myra Winters," Hermione said, considering on divulging her real name.

The formerly brusque woman disappeared, her last question more polite than her first greeting. After about ten minutes of waiting, Hermione thought she may not return.

She heard the front entrance being unlocked, the woman standing the doorway finally introduced herself. "Myra, I am sorry to keep you waiting. Tom was on the phone." She opened the door wider to allow Hermione to walk past her. "I'm Angel Birstwith, one of the assistant managers here. He was really surprised to hear that you came to see him. That was quite a disappearing act you did…"

Hermione cringed, shocked that he would even remember her, and in the same vein she was embarrassed that she had earned a reputation for disappearing. She hoped that wasn't the only thing he would remember about her.

Any response was prevented by distance, as Angel walked ahead of her, leading Hermione to his office behind the backstage area. Tom Phelps was smoking a cigar behind his desk, and he hung up the phone. Several cigar butts were evident in the large ashtray on his desk. Nasty habit, she thought.

Hermione crossed into his office, a bit startled when Angel shut the door behind her, leaving her alone with the club owner.

"Myra, I hope you don't expect me to pay you for work you did a year ago," Tom said irritably.

Hermione's cheeks pinked and regained her composure. "I actually came to see if you may have an opening…"

"Ha! If you're offering your services for free, then you have a deal," he said with a smirk, snuffing out his short cigar into the tray in front of him.

He was in a joking mood so Hermione decided to take it as a good sign. "I apologize for running out after the performance."

"Why exactly was that? You were fabulous…"

He said I was fabulous.

"…the crowd loved you," he grumbled into a new cigar he was chewing on.

"Um… someone saw me there who had a less than desirable reputation and I left to avoid a confrontation," she explained cryptically.

"Old boyfriend, eh?" he guessed, clipping off the end with an oval cigar cutter.

Hermione didn't have the energy to come up with a better lie. She shrugged.

"I at least expected you to pick up your pay. 500 pounds is nothing to sneeze at."

Hermione eyes widened, but didn't push the matter, even though she should have. She watched him light his cigar, and puffed it until the end glowed.

He continued. "Well then, I suppose I should thank you for the loan, but don't expect any interest alright?" Hermione watched as he pulled a ledger from his drawer and began to cut her a check.

"Tom, let me begin by saying my name is Hermione Granger. Myra Winters is my stage name." She couldn't imagine explaining the name issue to the bank.

"You don't say. I can see why you might want a different name, so many patrons try to look up the divas that sing in places like this. You can't imagine the people who came up to ask about you…"

People asked about me?

"Funny I couldn't get a hold of Misty Burroughs to reach you. I think she moved."

Oh, Misty! Of course. "Yeah, we lost touch." She tried to hide with excitement in her tone.

"Your voice sounds different," he noted. She couldn't tell whether he disapproved.

Hermione smiled, and deepened her voice, putting on a sexy smile. "You mean I'm not all breathy…"

Tom coughed on his smoke, and his lips curled appreciatively. "I guess you were working pretty hard to get that job last year. How badly do you need work now?"

"I could work," she said with an aloof expression, "if we renegotiate our fee." That was gutsy. You're Myra Winters, sexy devil— not 19-year-old Hermione Granger with her parents supporting her.

He laughed. "I'll pay you the standard fee of 1200 pounds for two nights including three practices. I have someone for this weekend but they wanted to reschedule. If you work Friday night and Saturday night you'd need to practice with the band for two hours each Thursday through Saturday. Get the music from Stevens, the band conductor, and choose your music. We have a request box and typically derive the program from that." He handed her the check. "We prefer to rotate several acts, so you possibly could be worked in every other weekend, or every third weekend. How does that sound?"

"It sounds fine, Tom. And thank you."

Mr. Phelps appreciated the calmer woman before him. She was collected, carried herself well, and seemed more real than the shrewd overconfident personality she initially presented. Last year, they were both desperate for an act. And while Hermione Granger needed the money, she appeared more trustworthy and genuine than 'Myra' had shown originally.

"Stevens comes in at three and practices are from three-thirty to five-thirty May first and second."

Hermione paled. NEWTS were only four days from now, her eyes darted around nervously, searching for the words to excuse her conflicting schedule.

"Hermione, you're not planning on going anywhere are you?" Tom asked tersely, smoke curling out from his nostrils.

"Tom, oh. I'm sorry," she stammered, flushing with embarrassment. "I have finals Friday, for school. I should be done by four-thirty, do you think we could work out an arrangement? I apologize, but I can't reschedule my tests." Way to go Hermione, keep committing yourself to something to can't finish.

He chuckled softly at her uneasiness. "Relax, woman. I'm sure Steven can work out something." Tom picked up the phone and began to dial. Before Hermione knew it, she had spoken with the band conductor and worked out the details, practicing an extra hour on Thursday. Her heart raced a little, knowing she was going to be spending several hours this week on vocalizing with the band, when she should be pouring over Charms and Transfiguration. Honestly, she had spent all of her time studying since she left Hogwarts and the change of pace was a pleasant distraction.

By Tuesday, the apartment was ready, Hermione paid the deposit and first month's rent. She spent the better part of two days scrubbing the place down, painting the walls a lovely rich red for the den and a deep warm orange in her bedroom. She built bookshelves and hung pictures, which was mercifully faster with the aid of her new wand. The movers delivered her grandmother's furniture from storage. Grandmother Meme had some nice pieces— the vintage fabrics on the chair and couch reminded her of her grandmother's home as well as Hogwarts. It was feeling a little more like her own home as she put up pictures of her family, Harry, Hagrid and the Weasley's. A picture of a summer spent at Headquarters, and one from the previous Christmas. She reached the bottom of the box and sighed. She did not have any pictures of Severus. The sonnet, the original seal… all of that work and even her own copy of his book was all back in his office. Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, inadvertently loosening the hold her hair band had on her thick waves and forced it back into place, securing it with the band once more. Maybe she'd be together enough to go to the dungeons and ask for it after her NEWTS.

She had other things to discuss with him anyway. He had all of the virginal blood, and she promised each of the girls would brew healing potions from their blood and provide them with a supply. In addition, Hermione imagined the remaining blood would be used to make healing potions for the war, just in case. That was something she would need to discuss with him. She had turned the responsibility of those vials over to him, and ultimately it would be up to him what he chose to do with the contents.

A rapping at her door brought her out of her deliberation and she stood to take a peek through the peep hole.

"Professor Dumbledore, thank you for coming!" Hermione was all flustered as the exceptionally tall wizard (or maybe it was just the hat) bowed through her front door.

"Hermione, it is good to see you looking so well. And now that you are no longer a student, I hope that you will call me Albus."

Hermione's eyes popped out a little and shook her head. "Sir, I think that will take some getting used to." She wondered which wizards were even inclined to call him by his first name at all. So many people still addressed him as Professor Dumbledore. Even McGonagall had asked her to call her by her first name, but it just didn't sound right flowing off her tongue.

Albus beamed at her smugly. "Not 'sir'. Albus."

"Albus." She wondered if he was testing her. It just didn't feel right.

Dumbledore smiled at her discomfort and changed topics. "What a charming place! Red!" He held out his arms to look at the den. "My favorite color," he said with a twinkle.

Hermione was proud of her decorating, but she hadn't really chosen the paint for her Gryffindor spirit. It just gave the room a pleasantly cozy feel. She gave him a brief tour and he admired each of her pictures and asked about each of her family members. He wasn't going through some scripted speech. Dumbledore genuinely did seem to care and want to know about her. He seemed in no particular rush, even though it must have been a school day. He had put special time aside for her. She could only feel flattered.

"How are you doing finding a job? Have you even had time to look?"

Hermione wondered how much she should say. "Well, I have some options for short term work until I can find something in the magical world. I have to make a few contacts and I'll be fine until I can figure out what to do."

"What do you see yourself doing, Hermione?"

She looked seriously at him and knew what he was asking. He wasn't talking summer gigs, he was asking career. "I had wanted to pursue an internship in potions to become a potions mistress," she confessed. "I really would prefer to stay here in England, where I can work with the Order, rather than move to Russia to study or some far off place. Um… under the circumstances, I don't think it would really be best to pursue that right now. I had planned on asking Se—Professor Snape for an apprenticeship a year from now, but of course here we are."

Dumbledore regarded her determined look for a moment. "I see. Hermione, I don't think you should put your life on hold for anyone. I am sure when you decide what is best for you, you will not hold back and go after it."

Hermione gritted her teeth and tried her best not to be angered by his comments which seemed to hint strongly toward a course of action that would take her away from Severus. But Dumbledore often spoke so vaguely, that such generalities invited a wide interpretation that one could never be sure if there wasn't some hidden meaning there. His next statement didn't help settle her mind any. If anything it made her decidedly more perplexed.

"In the meantime, I will refrain from encouraging you to seek out Severus and ask him for the internship you are so well suited for. He discussed with me your research last year and I must say I was very impressed by your efforts… as was he. Speaking of Severus…"

Here it comes… she thought.

Dumbledore pulled a small purse from his pocket and enlarged it. It was her bottomless bag! "Thank you, Pro- Albus." Hermione clutched it quickly, seeing the tapestry a bit worn but looking as bright as when she purchased it.

"Dobby saw to it that this was cleaned properly so that it still retains its magical properties. I'm sure it will continue to be of good use to you."

"Thank you!" Hermione said, putting it on her dinner table. Reaching in, her eyebrows wrinkled in puzzlement as she pulled out a large stone. Her facial expression fell seeing one of the two stones she had selected from the riverbed. She peered in the bag and caught a glimmer of the seal on "Revitalizing Potions for The Modern Age." Hermione licked her lips and swallowed, trying to maintain her equanimity, while she had felt like the wind had just been knocked out of her. All of her belongings from the cave were there.

Coward. He hadn't even brought them himself, no note, no owl. In fact, he probably sent them to avoid her from coming to pick them up. What did you think he was going to do anyway, bring them to your flat? Suggest a relationship?

"He thought you might be needing these things…" Dumbledore said, making an excuse for the wizard who should have talked to her himself at least. He knew Hermione would be upset with the impersonal delivery of items. Dumbledore had been a bit disappointed in Severus, yet had not refused to be a courier. Perhaps somewhere in his heart, Dumbledore still wanted them to keep some distance, so that they could wait things out, and think logically about the matter.

Tongue in cheek, Hermione shook her head and waved him off. She didn't want to hear Dumbledore try and describe what Severus' intent was. He was avoiding her. There wasn't even a note.

Dumbledore sighed, interlocked his fingers and changed the topic. "Well then, Minerva told me that you were wanting to make your flat Unplottable? I must discourage you from doing this as I believe you would prefer to get your mail without difficulty? Also, it is highly improbable we could succeed without causing legal problems since your flat is only one of several in a building with non-magical residents."

Hermione puzzled herself, surprised she hadn't thought of that. "Can't you make just the flat Unplottable?"

"It is exceptionally difficult, but could you imagine the difficulties that would cause if your landlord tried to collect rent, or if you had a fire? How would the postal service find you? Muggles are already aware of the existence of the apartment. I think the best idea is to make you the secret keeper for your own flat…"

"A Fidelius charm, like Headquarters?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes. You could be very specific about who you tell, and only you could give your location out."

Hermione looked a little disappointed. She really did want to live in a fortress like Hogwarts. Of course even its wards had proven to be vulnerable to attack.

Dumbledore read her concerned look and patted her arm. "That's not to say that you couldn't ward this place. I bet an occasional rune wouldn't hurt. Nymphadora told me how difficult it was to get into your previous residence." Dumbledore gave her a wink.

Hermione gave him a pleased grin. He was right— she was being too difficult. Runes would be a personal touch.

"Shall we?" Dumbledore began erecting wards around the entrance and windows. He watched with some interest as Hermione placed a powerful room sealing charm on an extra bedroom which held bookshelves, a large angled desk and a set of French chairs with elegant woodwork. It seemed a bit odd to him that she would place such a strong spell in a room she likely used for recreation at the moment. She has an office or study even before finding employment. He guessed Hermione found solace in her work independent of a paycheck or school activities that would require her study. Such an admirable trait. Always pushing herself. She would be a valuable asset to the Order.

After performing the Fidelius charm she wrote down her address and showed it to Dumbledore, because once he left he would promptly be unable to find her flat. She gave him instructions to show it to Harry, Ron, and Ginny, even though it was doubtful that they could come during the summer. Sealing her Floo prevented unscheduled visitors. In addition he erected an apparition barrier so that apparition was only possible outside of the building.

Hermione felt much better after Dumbledore spoke with her about security measures. She had her own wards, plus ones erected by one of the most powerful wizards alive. She would sleep well, she thought.

There were periods of awkward silence, and Dumbledore noticed that Hermione was distant, distracted. He left with her sadness on his mind, and wondered how Severus was managing. His initial reaction was pretty agitated, but since then he had been quiet and terse, yet docked less points than he normally did. They both seemed emotionally exhausted. Albus decided he would have to give her some time, but not too much. If Hermione was too idle, she would go mad from dwelling in her grief, as he had seen a number of others do in desolate times. Dumbledore resolved to extend Order membership as soon as he could. She needed to be a part of something, now that her losses were so great.

Hermione thanked him for coming and saw him to the door, once again finding herself alone. She busied herself by transfiguring a pencil into a paintbrush and conjuring some black paint. Taking her Ancient runes text out, she set to writing out a long line of protective runes on her doorjamb, windows, and vents. After they were dry, she spelled most of them to be invisible except the ones at her front door. They appeared almost decorative (but not without function), and the people she planned to invite here would appreciate the concept and humor behind it.

She felt flattered that Albus Dumbledore himself came to cast the protective charms on her apartment personally. Up until now, Hermione hoped she hadn't taken it for granted that such important wizards and witches were employed at Hogwarts. They were all so talented, generous, and giving with their time. Albus was renowned for the defeat of Grindewald, insanely infamous for being a crazy man with wicked wand skills, and wildly intelligent— Hermione found herself missing Hogwarts already. Did students not really realize what resources were at their disposal until they were gone?

Hermione sat alone in her new apartment. She purchased an owl, leaving one at her parents so they could use it for emergency communication to the wizarding world. Finally she had her own phone so she could at least call her parents or Jake. At last she felt like she was moving on, her first practice with the band was tomorrow. She laughed to herself. She was working in a club… again. It was kind of humorous, really. At least I'm not pouring shots in a smoky club and living in a rat trap. Her mind wandered to Gabe, Roxy, and Danny. On impulse, her fingers found the telephone and dialed the Shot.

"Nick, here."

"Nick, this is He- Kate."

"Kate who? My bartender…the Kate who walked out? Are you dead, in the hospital?"

She was stunned, remembering the rules. "I'm sorry, Nick. I had an…"

"…emergency, I know kid. You alright?" He asked seriously.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I apologize for leaving so quickly."

"I knew when I hired you that you wouldn't stay. I'm just glad that bastard didn't get his hands on you. Frank told me all about it. And you had friends looking for you. Why didn't you tell me you were underage?"

Hermione bristled. "I am not underage! Who told you that anyway?"

Nick shook his head. He should have known. "Never mind. It's alright."

"Thanks. Things are… better. Did you find a new bartender?"

"Are you asking for your old job back?" Nick asked with a groan.

"Heavens, no," she snorted. No more lifting forty pound cases of liquor for me, thank you.

"Good, because both positions have been filled."

"I'm sorry, both?" She wondered who else left, maybe Frank, his mother was ill.

"Danny left."

"Really? He was there for years with you," Hermione was impressed. Maybe he moved on like he promised.

"Yeah, we was the best bartender I had," Nick said regretfully. Hermione could hear him exhale smoke from his cigarette over the phone. What was it with managers and smoking anyway?

"He's actually why I called, do you have his number? I wanted to see how he was, maybe catch up."

"You mean let him know that you are among the living? We've been worried sick about you, Kate."

"Nick. Thank you for your help. I was really in a low place when you met me, but I'm doing a lot better now. I really have to thank you for allowing me to work there so quickly. I really needed the job." Her voice was genuine and sincere. She almost choked up thinking about how close she was to homelessness in London that day. She didn't know what she would've done to improvise without him.

"You're welcome," Nick said, sounding a little misty himself. Deep down, he was a softy. "You got a pen handy? Danny would love you hear from you, I'm sure. He said you were one of the reasons he quit."

"Really?"

"Something about a bet."

Hermione smirked.

"I should be upset, but I guess he's better off. He's going back to school. Got into Oxford— how do you like that?"

Hermione was smiling too wide to speak.

She and Danny spoke on the phone for a long while and made plans to get together after her performance at Rue Nineteen on Saturday, a little joint graduation/college acceptance celebration combo. He promised to bring Frank and Roxy. Gabe had already left for the summer with his family as soon as his last final was over.

When she hung up the phone, she was still alone in her flat with nothing to do, but read what was already read, and practice her music…

And drat! The piano was still at headquarters… She could move it later.

Loneliness pressed on her more heavily as Crookshanks hadn't seen fit to forgive her for her four month disappearance. Technically she had discussed it with him, but that didn't necessarily mean the ginger ball of fur approved of her decision. Melanie kept him for one month, then Ron and Harry did until Crooks absconded from Gryffindor House and gallivanted around the grounds as he pleased. He had reportedly fought with Mrs. Norris, much to Filch's consternation. Filch threatened to make violin strings from his guts but Crooks was nigh uncatchable. She saw him briefly before leaving Hogwarts and was dismissed by Crookshanks' backside and crude swish of his tail, the feline equivalent of flipping her off. It looked like she might be forgiven yet, but she'd have to make a second attempt when she returned for her NEWTS.

Hermione felt exhausted and adjourned to her bathroom to change for bed. She slipped into a long, thin cotton sleeping gown, and took down her hair, brushing it before she went to bed. She took one look at her grandmother's large empty four poster bed and knew she couldn't sleep there. Grabbing one of the pillows, she padded into the den, laid on her couch, and pulled one of her grandmother's afghans from the back of old divan over her. Hermione was quiet and dared not make a sound as she waited for sleep to overtake her.

As her mind relaxed and wandered about various, seemingly unconnected ideas she felt herself teeter on the precipice of sleep, jerking awake every few minutes as she adjusted to the creeks and noises in her new surroundings. First it was the icemaker, then a cat down the street, then the footsteps of a neighbor… Down, down, down… her mind dropped into peacefulness, half conscious and beginning to will her mind to think of him. Of his soothing voice…'Hermione…'

'You can't love me Hermione. You don't know me…'

She answered her own memories, But I do love you… I do… 'Don't pretend,' she remembered and then her eyes popped open.

He hadn't pretended. He wasn't pretending… he couldn't.

His words came back to her so clearly now— 'In January it would have been easier for me to reject what you said and how I feel. Hermione, I don't think I really knew what I lost— until you were gone.'

Now that she was truly gone, how did he feel? Hermione felt goosebumps flush her skin as the rest of his passionate remarks echoed in her mind, searing her heart.

'You think you are the only one who can feel strong emotion? That you are the only one who is afraid someone else won't understand? You made me crazy with worry for you.'

'I'm glad they didn't fade. Hermione, ever since you left… you've stayed with me. If something had happened to you…'

He almost… he had almost told her he cared. Not outright, but he showed her. He hadn't pretended. After the wards came up he continued to remain open to her, saying very little, but maintained eye contact, touching her intimately, slowly… permitting sleep only in the wee hours.

"Severus, I need you…" She wrapped her fingers around her pillow and slipped into an anguished sleep, waking up in the morning with tears still on her cheek.

-------------------

Snape did his best to ignore what happened. Everyone else seemed to be getting along well enough. There was no neon reminder of the spell anymore during mealtimes and all students appeared to be focused on their studies, or their peers. Weasley and Potter had even stopped giving him nasty looks, or at least Weasley had scowled enough at Potter to discourage him from further sneering.

Hermione had never returned to his class. She would never again raise her hand in the air, or coach her peers through their lessons. All of the students appeared not to notice her absence, as they had 4 months to grow accustomed to her being gone. But as far Snape was concerned, he had to start all over again. He couldn't get used to her absence, and he didn't want to.

Gratefully, Ron and Harry seemed to keep the news to themselves because the rumors Snape feared that would spread about him and Hermione were non-existent. It appeared that only Minerva had been told of the issue and she had remained silent. At times, after staff meetings she would ask about him politely, and there would always be that something in her eye that suggested she was asking a bit more than just how his day was. Snape rebuffed any attempts by Minerva to reach out to him, and noted that Dumbledore avoided addressing any of his concerns on the matter. And Snape was certain he had concerns.

The end of term was mostly boring and tedious. Students quietly waited for the end of every class, willing the summer to come. Draco had his best semester yet academically speaking in potions. He frequently saw Pansy and Draco together, and marveled at how he also conversed with Potter and Weasley sans hexing. Something important happened this year for him, and it so easily could have gone in another direction.

Snape would always begin his classes with a firm and disgusted tone of voice but his heart wasn't in it. He was tired. The wards had been up for a week. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord called them all for a meeting, and he could almost hear a loud ticking sound signifying the end of his days on this earth, or at least a trip to St. Mungo's for the cursing he would suffer. He was surprised he hadn't heard from Lucius, but then, Snape had threatened to kill him. And he still meant it.

The days were fine mostly. It was the evening hours that caused problems for him. He threw himself into his work, grading papers, planning lessons, brewing potions for his and Madame Pomfrey's stores. But the end of everyday brought the inevitable need for sleep. Since he had sworn off more sleeping potions and other sleep aids, he would lie awake in his bed, desperately trying to empty his head of all emotion, and find himself unable to do it. When he closed his eyelids he saw her smiling face, leaning over him looking at him in such a way that he could not deny her love for him. He could see her unruly locks of hair tangled about her face, and the apples of her cheeks high as she grinned at him. In those small moments Snape could not ever remember possessing such a feeling of contentment and utter joy, and in the same moment realizing she was not there he felt a sharp pang of loss so deep it weakened him.

After Snape turned spy, after all of his sins were laid bare to Dumbledore, Snape did not feel he deserved any measure of happiness. He would live his life in service and gladly die for the cause to bring the Dark Lord to his knees. Snape was a proud man, and being a repentant Slytherin was not easy. Snape was not about self-pity, though he pretty much felt he was a lost cause. Remus and Dumbledore had encouraged him on more than one occasion to settle down, date, or find some extra-curricular something to occupy his time in a productive way outside of work, outside of the Order. His new book was as close as he got, but even then it was a solitary occupation. It did not require him to go out and talk with anyone really, or risk anything emotionally. Now, Snape's world was turned upside down and on its ear.

When he closed his eyes and remembered Hermione looking at him he realized she didn't expect him to be deserving or earn anything. He could either accept her love or not. She left it up to him. Everything in Snape's life had been on conditional terms, strings were always attached, hence Snape's motto 'nothing is what it seems.'

But with Hermione, everything was exactly what it seemed. It had been so difficult for him to trust and count on people, but he knew he could rely on her. She was honest, she laid everything out. 'I want you know without a doubt— I love you, Severus. I will always love you. Whenever, if ever, you are ready for more, I will be here.'

How could he push her away? Snape had distanced himself far too much. To protect himself, to protect other people. The tradeoffs of being a spy.

"What on earth are you waiting for?" Minerva had asked. Of course, she had said that about his putting any personal relationships on hold in general and not about Hermione Granger. He was sure Minerva would disapprove of him pursuing her star pupil.

He felt guilty for sending her items without a note, but he had tossed aside five attempts before accepting that nothing he could say would be sufficient.

Rolling his head to the side, he glanced across the room, catching a glimpse of his book out of the corner of one eye. He decided to make up for his previous error.

------------------

After her first practice with the band and a bit of dinner, she packed her belongings and headed up to Hogwarts. She felt like she would test better if she spent the night up there, rather than apparate in the wee hours of the morning. Besides, she had business to attend to, and she couldn't put it of any longer. She hoped almost two weeks might be long enough to settle her heart down enough for a civil conversation with Severus, but if he was as rattled as she had been, they might have a time of it.

Hermione raised a shaky fist and knocked at his door, the sound more confident than she felt.

"Enter," came the deep baritone sigh. It irked her that he always seemed dismayed at any student's knock. Why on earth had he become a teacher if they were such a bother?

Hermione walked in and shut the door behind her. "I hate to impose on you, but I needed to talk with you about the Christmas present I sent." She explained her purpose immediately. Stay on topic, don't cry. Get out alive.

Snape looked up from his papers, his expression difficult to read. The hard lines from his face were gone though. "What is it that you need?" Please talk to me.

God. That question left her wide open for a straightforward remark, but she didn't take the bait. Stay on topic, keep it together. Don't make it more difficult for both of you. "The members of the SOS don't know who I gave their blood to. It belongs to you now, so I suppose you can do with it as you choose." Talking about an Order-related subject was a safe ground.

His eyebrows rose at her tentative comment, which was laced with a bit of deference. She knew he was in his full rights to refuse her request. But Snape would not refuse her. How could he? How could she think he would deny her this? She was clearly trying to be bold in asking at all.

"My intention was to make a nice batch of healing potion from each sample of blood given and make a few extra for ones who didn't participate. It will be pretty powerful for those who use potion made from their own blood, or give it to blood relatives. I would suggest we could use the rest for the upcoming war. The potion will keep indefinitely. We can make a batch of topical cream also, for gaping wounds and poisoning when antidotes aren't handy." She offered more suggestions and a lengthy explanation to ensure his agreement, even though with Snape an affirmative response was not what any student could normally expect.

Though she didn't have to qualify her request, he would have given what she required. He trusted her that much.

"It's pretty quick to prepare. Would you like to use the lab now?" Snape inquired quietly.

"Yes, thank you." Hermione was taken aback at his offer, but it made practical sense. She didn't know when she'd get another chance to return. She refrained from saying 'sir' or 'Professor' or 'Severus.' She noticed that he avoided calling her by her name as well. Focusing on the task at hand made it only partly easier to ignore the deafening silence in the dungeons as he marked papers quietly.

She brought the unmarked box to his desk, and he looked at her, puzzled for a moment. "It will not open, not even for me." She placed the box in front of him and longed for him to touch her, but he waited for her to withdraw. He seemed distant, but not cold. It was awkward.

He was impressed at the lengths she had gone to protect such a dangerous substance. In the wrong hands (and not so many years ago, his hands would have been the wrong hands) virginal blood could be used in the most terrible and dark magic.

Snape shuddered to think about it. He touched the lid, fingering the clasp and it opened quite easily— frightening. She smiled and thanked him, returning to the work station. He found it interesting that Hermione had considered the worst possible scenarios before sending it to him. She undoubtedly had cursed it not to be used in an ill way, or perhaps she was making a serious threat on him if he did use it for dark magic? Did she trust him that much? That thought astounded him. She didn't even have the confidence that she herself could not be turned or compromised. Of course she would know where it was, who to go to. If Hermione knew about someone as obscure as Gesupelte, surely she knew what horrifying and tempting potions could be created from her own blood… stronger truth serums… pain inflicted beyond imagining… mind altering potions that made Imperio forgivable.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, looking up occasionally from his work. He wanted to talk with her, but with her handling such delicate and costly materials he did not wish to distract her with such emotionally charged conversation. A little voice in the recesses of his brain lectured him— 'You're making excuses Severus.'

She pulled two large cauldrons and did some quick math. It would take her 30 minutes to make a large batch of potion and cream. Dividing each cauldron into 26 parts, she removed two drops of blood from each vial and mixed it with contents of each bowl. She decanted and labeled each immediately. The last twelve she made carefully. The placed a drop of blood each from her, Ginny, and Pansy and mixed the last batch of potion. Six of the potions and creams were for Pansy, Ginny, and herself. She felt Kendra and Melanie should receive a supply of potion and cream more than anyone. Hermione hoped that the combination of their blood would make it tremendously powerful. She didn't want Kendra and Melanie hurt anymore. The last two flasks were for Severus. She couldn't stop herself from making it. She cleaned up, and couldn't help but sigh when she saw that he had left her alone. Alone.

Perhaps he couldn't bear for her to be there. It made her feel marginally better to think that her presence did mean something to him, and therefore he left to avoid that pain. If he truly cared nothing for her he would have resumed his callous comments and rude behavior. In the same moment she felt a stab of pain in her heart in the thought that she had deliberately inferred something from his absence that he likely had not intended. Why couldn't he just be here and talk to her? Why couldn't he tell her how he felt or spell out what the limitations were? She hated that she kept deliberately reading into things that weren't there just to placate her bruised heart.

Son of a bitch.

She boxed up the potion and cream, leaving it with a note on the desk. She closed the lid on the box she had charmed to open only for him, and left it warded on his office chair. Be well, Severus.

Snape paced in his bedrooms letting off the frustration boiling underneath the surface of his skin. He was terrified, not knowing what to say. What was there to discuss? How empty his rooms felt now that she was gone? It was useless to explore the apologies for a relationship that could never happen, but then she was going to be an Order member soon… how were they going to break the awkwardness of that? He returned to his office, disgusted with himself that he was avoiding her in such a way after going to seek her out not a week before. Hermione had always been so gracious. She didn't push. She could have been cold. She could have sent him a note asking him to make the required potion but she didn't.

Snape paled and his head fell with disappointment— seeing the immaculate classroom, free of any sign she had been there. Snape ran to his classroom door and saw no one in the hallway. He ran toward the front of the ground and before he could catch her, saw her disapparate from the edge of the grounds. Snape felt like he was making the same mistakes all over again. In school he couldn't manage to talk to a girl, apologize for any wrongdoing, or share anything about himself. Now that she was gone, he could think of a million things he wanted to ask her about. What was she planning to do for work? Is she alright? Was she angry with him?

Snape slammed his office door and took his seat behind his desk, seeing the locked case of vials in his chair, and the potion she had left for him. It was labeled H.P.G. He smirked. So a drop from each? He picked up the folded paper, the writing revealed as he touched the message. Clever charm work for notes you didn't want just anyone to read.

I know you are quite able to brew this yourself, but would like to ask that you keep a tiny amount on your person at all times. If you wear it around you neck, it shouldn't be noticed and would be handy if you were unwell. Please be safe. H

Months had passed since she'd blessed him and still she was going out of her way to protect him. Snape wondered why he hadn't brewed it earlier. It was an ugly time whenever he was punished at a Death Eater meeting, and given recent events he was truly surprised he hadn't been called yet. He went to his bedroom and retrieved a long chain, slipping on a pendant with a vial. He had several, though he hadn't used them often. He poured in a small amount of potion immediately, careful not to spill a drop. The costly opalescent liquid held a piece of her— he wouldn't squander it.

He wouldn't.

---------------

Hermione couldn't stay after seeing him, and rather than spend the night at Hogwarts like she'd planned, instead apparated back in the morning to take her NEWTS. In the end, she felt it helped her confidence. She saw herself as an already graduated student coming back to take some tests she'd missed. She felt she handled herself well and with the poise of a professional. Instead of worrying herself to death over every little question like she used to, she found they went surprisingly well. Four months alone could change one's perspective on what is and isn't important enough to worry about.

Her potions NEWT was uneventful. It was mostly essay with some practical mixed in, but Professor Sprout was the attending Professor for that exam. She didn't know why the professors for the respective tests didn't match up with what they taught. She didn't see Professor Snape as she entered her DADA NEWT. She had selected to take a practical 'exercise' rather than engage in a simple demonstration of defensive techniques as had been done with charms and transfiguration

She found her way to the labyrinth, as she would be tested in the maze.

"Miss Hermione Granger?"

"Yes, sir."

The large broad shouldered wizard wore a bright gold badge that read: Examiner Alfred Darley. There were four other examiners present, all eyes on her. It was intimidating to say the least. What she couldn't figure out was how they were going to grade her if they couldn't see inside the maze.

"You will walk to that point and have one hour to complete your exam. You are being timed, and you will be pursued." He gestured to two rather eager looking wizards behind her, wands at the ready.

God, I'm going to be chased! She willed her heart to slow, already calculating her first moves, her wand dropping smoothly in her hand. She had been by Harry's side since the beginning, helped found the DA, the SOS, faced Voldemort and the Death Eaters… she had been through hell and back. They were no match for her, were they?

"Ready… go!"

The hedge closed behind her, effectively sealing her in the maze for the test. A few spells from her hunters sailed past her but failed to hit their mark. Hermione took off at a dead run, fooling her followers into thinking that she would expend a lot of energy by being too aggressive at the outset. She ran quickly ahead and then slowed, creeping silently along the hedge, careful to be mindful of the plants growing there— strangling vines, Devil's snare and other deadly plants.

She thought for a moment about who was grading her, and wanted to show off as little as possible, yet she still had to show sufficient advanced NEWT level spells. She almost regretted not taking the easier exam, it would've betrayed fewer of her skills. If the judges were watching, they were also making note of her competencies…a dicey chance at tipping her hand in the upcoming battle where anyone could be her enemy. She was beginning to regret a little of her decision to take the practical. Since January, she preferred to keep a low profile.

There were several mindteasers, reminding her something of Professor Snape's logic puzzle which had protected the Philosopher's Stone. She solved the riddles and puzzles quickly, grateful for the lack of a chess match. Solving the last of three puzzles, she stepped through the formerly solid mirror to the other side. Though unaware of it at the time, Hermione had just made it over halfway through the maze.

The world became black and she blinked. She found upon closing her eyes, she was able to see and walked forward. A few more steps and the world turned upside down, her stomach lurching— she remembered Harry mentioning something similar after the Triwizard Tournament. She closed her eyes again and walked forward, opening her eyes, the world righted itself and she dashed forward, nervous that the obstacles had slowed her down.

Watching the exam from one of the towers, Snape saw Hermione make her way through the maze. He was pleased to proctor this exam— it was his favorite and the most exciting to watch. Because of his fame and no small amount of skill, Harry Potter was always touted to be the most brilliant DADA student, but Snape held Hermione's more subtle technique of evasion in higher esteem.

Two wizards followed in behind and Hermione cast a disillusionment spell on herself. Initially she evaded them easily, until she came upon the creatures placed in her path. She cast all spells under her breath, so her location could not easily be discerned. When she knew her magic could be viewed by those nearby, she ran ahead.

When she saw the fairy eggs, she gathered them in anticipation of a bowtruckle ambush. She later stupefied an enormous troll. Laughing to herself, she wondered if it was the same troll from her first year. There were a surprising number of plants, roots and flowers on the way. Hermione was careful not to breathe when passing some of them as some fragrances were poisonous or had sedative properties. She was tempted to choose some plants and herbs to take with her for her own stores, as so many were valuable for potion making, and made a mental note of each in case she needed to brew anything during the exercise.

Snape watched carefully as she approached the next obstacle, an easy one if one knew what to look for—unfortunately, more than a fair number of students became paralyzed in fear because of it and consequently failed or accomplished the task with a significantly decrease in the amount of exam time remaining. Hermione tread softly. She hadn't seen any obstacles in a while and was more wary because of the suspicious absence of danger. She turned the corner and saw Severus crying out in pain, bloody and dying on the beautiful carpet of grass beneath him.

Snape gasped from where he stood as he saw Hermione's worst fear— that he would die. He saw the look of horror and disbelief cross her face, and then her hesitation. Boggarts were cruel to those whose fears were so gruesome, one could not make light of them. Come on, Hermione…

Tears sprang to her eyes immediately, but it made no sense— she had just seen him last night, and he was here in broad daylight, during a test… 'It's a boggart!', she thought but then couldn't find anything funny about it. The sight of his dead, mangled body, and ash white skin stole every bit of breath she had. She closed her eyes and thought really hard about Neville's attempt to rid himself of the boggart in their third year, and that outrageous hat. "Riddikulus," but no sound came out. Her wand hand was trembling. "Riddikulus!" she shouted with better aim.

But the dead Snape still bled, the blood pooling beneath him, large gashes apparent in his side and on his face. She had to get rid of it—she couldn't permit the judges to see… they would ask questions. "Riddikulus!" she shouted at him and the blood became ketchup. The boggart Snape stuck in a finger and licked it, making a look of loathing. She laughed at it, wondering if Severus had a strong preference one way or the other. She ran quickly, worrying about the footfalls behind her and wanting to outrun the boggart who might follow as she didn't have a trunk or wardrobe to put him in.

Bravo, Hermione. Snape mentally applauded her courage in overcoming her fear, and then noticed her approaching enemy. Capps was an Auror, and a good one. He had seen him before during the NEWTS (that man never pulled punches) he was always close behind Hermione throughout the exercise, the other tracker on the opposite side of the maze.

Capps snuck up on her, just around the corner. She couldn't hear him, but she could feel the hair stand on the back of her neck. She threw a rock at the far wall and ran in the opposite direction. She was nearing the end of the maze, she could see the exit from here. Tempted to make a run for it, she channeled some patience and suppressed the urge to take the quick and easy way. The nearness of her goal gave an illusion of safety, so close now…but it was too good to be true. Casting another disillusionment charm on herself, she flattened her back against the wall as her skin trickled with the magic that made her blend in with the concrete. She cast another quick spell and watched as her cloaked figure approached the finish line.

The judges at the maze's exit smiled at the student, and just as her toe crossed, two wizards behind her sent twin stunners flying to her back. The stunners sailed through her duplicate form, not at all a real person. Hermione swiftly stepped away from the hedge and stunned both pursuers from behind, knocking them flat to the ground and then used a Body Bind to make sure they were secure. She casually crossed the finish line, entirely unharmed.

She smiled at her captives and whispered, "Finite incantatem." Their bonds were removed. They were so sure they had caught their prey, and yet pleased that the clever witch before them had passed her NEWT.

One of the judges, Examiner Madeline Keynes, stepped forward and said, "Most students don't get past the mirror. If you had to work through the rest of the maze and were running out of time what would you have done to shorten it?"

Hermione thought about her answer. "Well, there were a number of plants at my disposal. It would've been easy to brew something on short notice. Either some bomb to cloud the vision of those pursuing me or I could make a flammable fertilizer…"

"Did you say flammable fertilizer?" One of her hunters asked.

"Yes. I could set the hedge on fire, walk through and then activate the inert components in the ground with water to regrow the hedge behind me."

Several judges looked skeptical. As if she would make something up. Hermione looked behind her and cocked her head to one side. Quickly she clipped a piece of quick growing Devil's Snare and walked away quickly from the annoyed plant. With a flick of her wand she dried it out and crushed it with a rock she found on the ground. She pulled a piece of nettle from a nearby flowerbed (there were flaming nettle and other flammable plants throughout the hedge). She mixed it with the Devils' Snare powder and threw it at the hedge with her simultaneous incantation, "Incendio!" The bushes burst into a tall flame producing smoke and a large gaping hole through the dense hedge. Using her wand like a hose, she extinguished the fire and the re-hydrated Devil's Snare grew like an invasive weed, angrily filling in the vacant space in seconds.

It was clever, but she didn't find it that impressive. However, the judges were taken aback at her display. It took her all of forty seconds to put together.

"Well done! Well done, Miss Granger," Examiner Darley said, clearly pleased. "You finished the maze in eighteen minutes, twenty seconds one of the shortest times on record."

Hermione couldn't help but beam at the praise. She had clearly avoided many traps. There was only an hour to finish the maze and she had finished in less than half the time. She wasn't the only one proud of her efforts at that moment. Professor Snape had the bird's eye view from the tower. From there he could see every swish and flick, every defensive position. He noticed how she paid attention to the plants she was tempted to pick for herself and how she walked harmlessly past flowers that could have knocked her unconscious had she breathed even shallowly in passing. He couldn't repress a satisfied smile in seeing her prepare the flammable fertilizer from only two ingredients. Yes, indeed. That is Hermione Granger, ladies and gentlemen. If only she hadn't strolled across the finish line, she could have beaten my own time.

He watched as Hermione shook the judges' hands. She was handling it all in a very dignified manner, where other of her classmates had jumped up and down, or were so injured from their test that they were incapable of jumping without a trip to see Madame Pompfrey.

Hermione left the maze to enter the school. Snape noted with some personal sadness that Hermione wasn't smiling at all, and seemed to be trudging through her day. Remus had mentioned her stellar performance on her Charms practical, but made special note of her blank expression. She had not acknowledged a single student and took no initiative to converse with others before her final. He thought it odd. Hermione was more sociable than most, and her jitters were usually obvious before exams despite her exhaustive preparation. Today she didn't seem jittery at all, just empty. Snape didn't think much of it until he saw her blank expression with his own eyes. She looked like she hadn't rested and she appeared sad.

Pansy knew precisely when Hermione would finish her NEWTS because Ginny had blabbed. And McGonagall had been the one to provide Ginny with said information.

Just as Hermione left her last final she felt a small wave of relief wash over her in being done. Really done. She felt kind of a queasy happiness. And in that same moment she felt a pang of sadness that she no longer needed to be here. Her departure was scheduled as soon as she could find her damn cat. The cloak she wore over her casual clothing was the only sign that she was still a student. When she made to remove her clasp, it felt warm to the touch and she looked at it closely.

ROR- Now! P

Hermione walked briskly through the front halls until her feet found the changing staircases and ran the rest of the way to the fifth floor.

"SURPRISE!"

All of the SOS plus Melanie and Kendra were there to greet her and congratulate her on finishing. Hermione didn't have time to sort through her emotions at the shock of seeing everyone there before most of them accosted her, hugging and patting her on the back, exclamations of how happy they were to see her, questions shouted out about where she'd been.

"Hermione! We're so glad you're back…"

"Can't believe you finished your NEWTS already…"

"Is it true? Are you done?"

She and Pansy presented them each with potions made of their blood, which made several of the girls more than moved at the results of their struggle. It made Hermione glad to see all of them getting along so well, conversing easily with each other. Ginny and Pansy said they had acclimated well after January. She knew in seeing the group, their sisterhood would last and last.

"Hermione? Can you come over here for a sec?" Orla asked.

Hermione obliged and sat on a small couch in a small seating arrangement in the corner. She almost couldn't recognize the frail form of Kendra, a girl she only remembered seeing completely the year before, and at the Death Eater hideout, only in the dark.

"I-I just wanted to say thank you." Her voice was meek and timid, having found it only recently. She felt uncomfortable in the crowd and Hermione could tell she wanted to leave.

Hermione's throat tightened, but offered her a genuine smile. For a moment, she found herself unable to say anything. "Your welcome. You deserve a happy and safe life, Kendra." She handed her the vial of potion made from hers, Pansy's and Ginny's blood.

"What's this?" She asked, holding up her pale vial of murky opal liquid.

"Healing potion, special. Made just for you." Hermione made her voice softer purposefully, less abrasive. Kendra appeared to shrink back with loud noises and raised voices. "It's terribly potent so use it sparingly. It will very likely heal you even if you are on the brink of death…"

Kendra nodded. She surprised Hermione immediately by taking a small sip.

Hermione's mouth fell open as color filled in Kendra's sallow complexion. She sat up straighter and taller, removing her hands from around her middle. She thought she had crossed her arms defensively, but apparently she had been in pain.

Orla, Pansy and Melanie gasped in astonishment. "Kendra… are you okay?" Pansy asked.

Tears escaped Hermione's eyes and several other members smiled through their joy in seeing the fruits of their sacrifice made plain before them. Hermione couldn't find a single regret in that moment about any decision she had made since last summer.

Kendra offered a genuine smile and nodded. She had kept her pain to herself. She was too shy to ask for help and Madame Pomfrey had done all she could for her. Hermione refrained from hugging her. She resolved to keep in touch with her and check on her recovery. Pansy said that she had lost her mother, and that her father was found dead shortly after her return.

Pansy hooked an arm around Hermione's neck, "She plans to stay with an aunt. She's nice. I've met her once. She'll be well cared for."

"And where will you stay?" Hermione asked.

"I was actually going to see if I could stay with you at your new flat," Pansy said with a grin. "But Melanie's cousin is asking several of us to stay with her at her home in Luxembourg. It's Unplottable and we'll be well hidden."

"What about Draco?"

"He's not too happy, and he planned to ask you also…" Hermione looked shocked at the suggestion. They'd kill each other.

Pansy continued, "But relax, he is staying here at Hogwarts. It's the safest place for him until we find a way to undo the tether."

"The what?" Hermione had never heard of this.

"Tether. There is an implant of some sort in his father that binds their blood so Lucius can locate Draco anywhere."

"Holy mairde! He can do that?"

"That's how Dumbledore figured he found Draco at the bar," Pansy explained. "Now we just have to figure out when we can remove it."

Oh crap. The club. Hermione felt guilty for looking at her watch. She could only stay for fifteen minutes before the party made her late for the rearranged practice with the band. "I'm sorry…"

"But you've gotta go? It's okay. You have a job already?" Pansy raised an eyebrow.

"Kind of."

"What— no bartending?"

Hermione laughed. "No bartending. But when you graduate I may recommend Monica Bruce for a show."

"You're singing?"

"Shhh. At Rue Nineteen in two hours." Hermione's voice dropped to a hush, and then wondered why she was so embarrassed. Perhaps it was because she didn't have some flashy magical job waiting for her somewhere. "I have to run. Thanks for all this. You didn't have to."

"Yes I did. We did. They missed you. You better write me." Pansy hugged her tightly.

Hermione quickly said her goodbyes, seeking out Harry and Ron before she left. Surprisingly they were right outside the Room of Requirement.

"Leaving so soon?" Harry asked.

"Are you mad?" She winced. They hadn't spoken in two weeks and she knew he found out.

"Noo. I think you're nutty in the head, but I'm not mad." Harry shrugged. Ginny had long since beaten some sense into him.

"You're running off so quick, 'Mione?" Ron asked, tugging at her sleeve.

"Sorry, guys. But I wish I had time to find Crookshanks," she moaned. Hermione stamped her foot and looked up and down the hall, as if the ginger fiend would leap out from any nearby shadow.

Harry pulled out his Marauder's Map and gave Hermione his best, most devilish grin.

Thanks to Harry, Ron, and the map, Hermione had managed to coax Crooks out of a corner on the third floor. He seemed to like his new darker home amongst the rows of armor. His eyes looked almost sinister in the darker light, but when he leapt into her arms he became her precocious familiar again, even though they still had some catching up to do.

As she made to leave, Harry sulked audibly. He shuffled his feet almost as loudly as Ron usually did when he was upset. Both of them had huge non-verbal cues. Harry would be leaving for the Dursley's in a few days. "I'm going to miss you, you know?" Harry groaned.

Hermione sighed and turned around to address her rather defeated looking friend. "Harry… It's not like we're not going to see each other this summer. Pretty soon I'm going to get my own car, and I can apparate…"

Harry's face lit up.

"If you think I'm going to leave you rotting on Privet Drive both then you're barmy!" Hermione grinned madly as she mock-scolded him.

Ron smiled at them both as Harry grinned a huge smile. Harry was saved. This summer would be different—he finally wouldn't be left out. He wouldn't be alone.

Crooks seemed a bit angry when Hermione had to leave for her first gig. Though when she returned from Rue Nineteen, he forgave her after she fed him. At least she remembered to pick up cat food on the way home, otherwise she would've had to leave…again, further increasing her cat's skepticism on her reliability as his guardian. At night, Crooks had sniffed and re-sniffed every square inch of the apartment, walls included. On the third pass at two in the morning, Hermione realized he was looking for a place to sleep. He was never a snuggler while she slept (probably for safety reasons in case she rolled on him), but he did prefer to sleep near her and there was no room on the couch. She still wasn't sleeping in her grandmother's bed, though currently she would argue that the divan was more comfortable…a blatant lie.

Hermione stumbled into her kitchen and pulled out the comfortable disposable house of many a cat— a plain brown paper bag. Hermione crawled back into her space and Crooks followed. Only a little shuffling could be heard until his soft purring came. It was a long exciting day, and finally sleep claimed her.

Snape had missed her yesterday evening, and hoped to see her before the evening meal if she planned to stay. He crossed Pansy Parkinson's path later that afternoon— Pansy said Hermione disappeared after her Arithmancy test. She met only briefly with the SOS, saying her goodbyes more quickly than she would have liked. Apparently she had found a job, though Pansy had declined to elaborate.

Snape felt kind of hurt that she hadn't mentioned it to him. She had wanted to work in the field of potions and wondered now that her time was free, where her aspirations would lead her. The least he could do was wish her well. Soon, she would be an Order member. He figured he could talk with her then.

-------------------

It was early Saturday morning at 12 Grimmauld Place after a meeting to decide on new Order membership. Only Snape, McGonagall, Remus, Moody and Tonks remained.

"Are you sure we have to do this? It always seems like such an intrusion. We know her. She's not the enemy for Circe's sake!" Tonks said, and felt full well she knew Hermione's habits enough after tracking her for months, seeing where she lived, people she met, fleeing from Death Eaters. She felt like Hermione's privacy had been trod on enough.

"It's strange to hear you, an AUROR, say that," Moody hissed, his glass eye swiveling in all directions.

Remus felt he knew Hermione well enough, but no one of his age could deny that they had been fooled enough times by seemingly trustworthy people to be dearly sorry for their blind faith. He had been fooled into thinking that his lifelong friend, Sirius, was a traitor for thirteen years— and all of this masterminded by none other than his other childhood companion— Secret-keeper for Lily and James, the traitor, Peter Pettigrew. The rat had not been the only turncoat in their circle.

"It's Order policy for good reason and you know it," Remus said to Tonks, almost unkindly.

"I have some business this morning, but I can come back this afternoon to monitor her movements," Tonks said apologetically.

"I can take the afternoon but not tomorrow," Remus said to the young witch. "Can you take Sunday instead?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Sure."

"I'll sit Sunday afternoon to sunrise," Moody offered, getting up from his chair. Moody preferred evening watch. He was always more suspicious of activities after dark. Most members could scarcely tolerate his paranoia, though Dumbledore seemed to find him amusing.

Lupin, McGonagall and Snape sat in front of the mirror. Promptly at 8:00 a.m. the large mirror showed a sleepy girl in a long cotton nightgown take her hot tea into the bathroom. Dumbledore had already been to her flat, charmed all of her clothes and mirrors to permit this specifically timed exercise. 48 hours to go.

This was the necessary ritual— the measure to ensure that every member was trustworthy. Even though it seemed to some an extreme measure for someone so well known to the group, it was preferable to blindly risking some of the war's most precious secrets, the strategies of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins had always attempted to listen in, but they had no concept of what went on really in the grand scheme of things. They protected much, and it was worth any extra steps they might take, even though it might be construed as an invasion of privacy. Once one pledged themselves to the Order, one gave up such luxuries.

Snape sat with Minerva and Remus, wishing that the DADA professor would take his leave, but to Snape's chagrin Remus stayed, chatting amiably with Minerva about school and other unrelated matters. All three of them had spent their fair share of time watching the everyday activities of prospective members, screening their daily lives for anything unusual or out of the ordinary. Snape was finding himself a little apprehensive about Remus' presence there, though he didn't really know why at first until Hermione got out of bed… couch. Couch?

Hermione pulled herself together and took a cup of hot tea into the bathroom. She drew a shower, as hot as she could stand it.

"Why is she sleeping on the couch?" Minerva asked.

"Maybe she had company over," Remus suggested.

"Certainly not!" Snape blurted out, then recovered, qualifying his earlier statement. "She just moved in, surely she doesn't have a guest already." Minerva gave him an impish look, and Snape grew horrified that she'd say something. At this rate he'd be giving himself away.

Remus smirked. Snape had claimed earlier that he hadn't made judgments bout her. And completely missed the mark.

Crookshanks exited his home from the paper bag and stretched his long, ginger, feline body.

"Thank Merlin, that, that… thing is out of the school," Minerva said.

"Minerva, I thought you loved cats, given your particular feline inclinations," Remus jibbed.

The elder witch gave him a sour expression, but would not stoop so low as to cruelly bring up his own animalistic tendencies. "That cat is half-kneazle and a bloody menace. He has been in my office no less than four times, going after mice I had reserved for transfiguration classes."

"Are you certain they wouldn't be better off being eaten than tortured by the atrocious fumbling attempts at transfiguration by your less-promising students?" Snape offered glibly with a half-smile, half-sneer.

Remus laughed, thinking of mice running toward the cat and away from the students. The mirror changed viewpoints from time to time, showing a different angle of the apartment but always showing the subject.

"Albus sure got her good. Charmed her flat and every article of clothing," Minerva observed.

Hermione stretched and yawned loudly. Her cotton nightgown was lightweight, almost see-through with tiny detailed pleats down the front. Snape was beginning to feel a little unsettled, seeing her again this way, on one side of a mirror, unable to touch her or speak with her. At least she was safe, and they knew where she was. Hermione turned to face one of the mirrors she'd hung and scratched her head. Remus laughed and Snape scowled at him.

"Her hair enormous in the morning! Gods, gargantuan!" He chuckled a little more and Minerva laughed too, acknowledging that it was indeed funny.

Minerva shot a sly look to Snape. She knew why he was here, even though he wouldn't admit it.

Snape caught Minerva's glance and looked back at Hermione, his mouth upturning in a corner. Her wildly untamed hair was a somewhat endearing quality about her, something uniquely her… beautiful. No doubt she had been teased about it in school like his own lank locks. Yet when she touched him, she ran her hands through it appreciating it like any other part of him. It made him feel whole to have her look at him with such wonder and acceptance. He wondered what she thought of his nose—he always thought it was too big for his face. As a child, Snape was never vain, but being preoccupied with appearance was something he grew into with age. He couldn't help becoming obsessed with it as much as everyone called attention to such things. He made a point of wearing fine clothes, a way of overcompensating for his other deficiencies. It seemed funny that it was quite possible that Hermione didn't see anything wrong with his appearance at all.

She padded into the bathroom and began her morning ablutions, brushing her teeth and again the three of them were chatting away while nothing of importance seemed to be happening. Hermione walked into her room, hesitating before touching the bed. She turned away from it, blinking her eyes several times. All three spied the enormous bed. Snape swallowed— he knew exactly why she hadn't slept there. It was too big. He felt the same way about his own bed as it took him an hour longer to get to sleep every night as opposed to his usual short drop.

In a fluid motion, Hermione pulled her gown straight over her head and flung it on the bed. She was naked but for her knickers, and soon she bent over and pulled those to the floor as well, tossing them in a laundry basket. Snape's teeth clenched, forgetting in so many times that they did this that they saw every detail of a person's life… dinners, friends, trips to the loo, nasty habits… showers. He really wanted Remus to leave, but it would look suspicious if he asked him to go.

It irked him even more, when instead of looking down, Remus was looking more intently than ever at Hermione's lithe form.

"Minerva, do you see that?"

Hermione turned again, and the mirror switched views. She reached into the shower to turn on the hot water, quickly fogging the room.

"See what, Remus?" She sat up looking at Remus and then scrutinizing the image before her.

"Oh, you can't see it anymore. She had a… blue thing. A tattoo maybe."

Snape shook his head. He had seen all of Hermione and there was no tattoo.

"Where?" Minerva wondered. Hermione doesn't seem the type to get a tattoo.

"Just below… well, just below her navel. I couldn't see it clearly."

"So obviously not the Dark Mark then, Remus," Snape said with disdain. Now with the whole hunt for the tattoo, there would be no taking his eyes of her. It was pointless to make a remark about her privacy, since they were so obviously intruding on it. Snape found himself wishing Remus to be struck with a case of mysterious blindness.

Hermione slipped in the shower and scrubbed her hair, taking her time to soap all of her body. Snape wondered if she really relished these ordinary things, since she had spent such a long while in the caves without them. Seeing her shower was some cruel torment to Snape. He had no time to relish how sexy she was because he was entirely preoccupied with Remus fanatical search for the non-existent tattoo.

After ten minutes she stepped out, drying herself off with a large towel. To Snape's dismay, she removed it from her body and wrapped her hair up in it, leaving her body naked.

"She keeps turning."

"I still can't see it, Remus. The mirror is fogged," Minerva said, eyes darting every so often to Snape. She knew he was not amused.

'Cover yourself, woman!,' thought Snape. Beautiful, beautiful woman…

Soon enough, Hermione took her hair down, opened the door and used the towel to wipe down the mirror.

Damn it. Still naked. Snape was starting to feel a little warm.

She rummaged for a brush and brushed out her hair behind her, grateful that Sleekeasy's permitted the brush to actually comb through it. She reached for her hairdryer and the diffuser attached to it. It worked better than a drying charm, which for some reason caused her hair to frizz. It took at least ten minutes for her to dry her hair and with the door open and the hairdryer blowing the fog in the mirror began to evaporate.

"Here we go," Remus said. "There it is!" he pointed.

Hermione turned off her hairdryer and looked for the first time at her reflection in the long mirror. She turned away to dress and then spun back around in shock. "Oh shit!" She peered close to the mirror and bent down, trying to examine the blue circle on her lower abdomen.

"You're just now noticing it?" Remus asked the mirror incredulously.

She couldn't see it very well, and began rummaging around in a drawer. "Where is it?" She muttered to herself. "Ah..." She pulled a hand held mirror and angled it toward her abdomen so she could take a closer look.

"Well bugger all!" Hermione hissed, looking at it from all angles. The small blue pentacle was visible clear as day to both Hermione and her three observers. Then she started to snicker, and she snickered until it became a chuckle, until it emerged as a great big belly laugh. "This is just the spell that wouldn't end!"

Minerva and Remus laughed also, but Snape did not. He was still puzzled as to when that happened, and allowed a small smile to creep across his face as she walked to her dresser, still naked, searching for a spare bit of parchment. She scribbled out a note to Pansy and retrieved her owl. He was a beautiful brown barn owl, and Katie had assured her, a brother of Buckwheat. She hoped that his legendary stealth and intelligence was hereditary. Hermione walked to her window…

"You're still naked, Hermione," Remus called out between cupped hands, echoing Snape's own thoughts.

As if she heard him, Hermione stopped halfway and looked down, embarrassed. At least the drapes were closed. She dropped the owl back on his stand and rifled through her drawer again. She hastily slipped on her solid French cut underwear (quite a change from the lacy thong she wore when he last saw her, Snape noted) and an attractive, non-matching, push-up bra.

She emerged from her closet wearing a pair of camel colored slacks and a delicate button-down blouse with cap sleeves and threw a light jacket over. Then she changed her mind. She took her wand and shrank the matching jacket, slipping it into the pocket of her summer cloak.

"Here we go Jack, take this to Pansy Parkinson. She's probably still at Hogwarts. Off you go."

After locking her window, she tried to finish her tea, but it was cold so she discarded it in the sink. When she walked into her office and closed the door, the mirror showed the den only and did not follow Hermione inside.

"Why can't we see past that door?" Snape asked aloud.

"Albus said she sealed that room specifically. Peculiar really— she didn't say why. Oh, here she comes," Minerva said.

Hermione emerged carrying a stylish leather bag, which she slung over her shoulder. They watched her lock and ward the apartment and disapparate from the alley outside. Minerva explained to Remus and Snape how the place had been secured, and Snape noted with amusement the runes on the front doorframe when she left.

Hermione apparated from the shadowy passageway beside her apartment to the uneven cobblestones in Diagon Alley. Her Muggle clothing was covered by a light cloak. The Muggleborn witch disappeared quickly from the public street into the more limited crowd at Flourish and Blotts, thankfully only one of two people were perusing the selection of books and not at all interested in the new patron who had entered. Snape felt a lump begin to form somewhere in his throat.

Remus was now on the edge of his seat hoping to catch a glimpse of what he had missed when he had escorted a cautious Hermione to the same location. He felt a little guilty in possibly seeing something she didn't want him to know, and she had sworn him to secrecy as to even the whereabouts of her trip. And his fellow peers had most definitely asked him where they'd been. It had been a difficult question to dodge. For the life of him he couldn't hazard a guess as to why Flourish and Blotts would need to be kept secret for any reason, or why Hermione would continue to be involved in anything that needed to be kept that secret. He had only seen a lace cuff through the door that morning, and now he finally took a long look at the very attractive woman attached to it.

Katie Renou walked through the aisles from the back, arms outstretched to greet Hermione.

"Hi Katie," Hermione said smiling walking into Katie's embrace.

"Come on back. You have lots of mail…"

"Good, because I need the work."

Hermione followed her to the rear of the establishment and into Katie's office. The mirror flickered when Hermione crossed the heavy wards guarding Katie Renou's office. She sat in the comfortable feather tufted chair that decorated her eclectic office influenced by English antiques and a collection of artwork and calligraphy she had collected over her travels.

Remus quirked an eyebrow— work?

Snape wondered if quite a bit was about to be given away here, and became uncomfortable. Katie would be outraged if any client's privacy was compromised, and uncertainty began to wash over Snape with the realization that his own secrets were likely about to be divulged. He was a little disappointed when the mirror didn't stop working when she crossed the threshold of Katie's office.

"Would you care for some tea?" Katie asked.

"Yes, please."

"How did it go?" Katie asked plainly giving Hermione a hopeful smile, but feeling like she already knew the answer by her solemn expression.

Hermione smiled again, but she didn't want to. She took a deep breath and sighed. "Jury's still out."

Oh dear. Katie shook her head. "That well, huh? I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head, and Snape felt relieved yet also curious as to her feelings. Jury's still out. She would wait for him like she said? Of course he should take her at her word. Why should he doubt her? But had only been two weeks.

"I wondered, because… he sent something for you."

Hermione looked shocked. "He did? Why?" Her voice seemed so angry, Katie was almost startled by it.

"Don't be surprised, it was business related."

Hermione's demeanor changed dramatically, her mouth falling open. "Really?"

"Maybe you should address this first, before you attend to the offers. Let me allow you some time." Katie handed her the scroll Snape had sent the previous day and Hermione's hand shook a little. Katie closed the door and left Hermione alone.

Hermione eyes closed as she ran her fingers over the wax seal. Snape wondered if Remus noticed that it was his. The three of them were utterly silent, watching her every move with suspicion. This was a side of Hermione none of them had ever seen before and so all were intent on her mysterious visit. Snape waited with anticipation, fascinated he could witness her reaction to something he sent, and hoped that she didn't hate him for not telling her personally.

She broke the seal and read, his spidery script on the page was blurring.

Dear Artist—

I apologize for not discussing this with you earlier. I find myself in your deep debt over your contribution to the book. In the beginning, I had no idea that the calligraphy would be such an important addition. The book is doing so well, in fact selling out other texts of the same genre, that I feel no small measure of guilt in failing to share some of the earnings with you.

Therefore, this morning five percent of the proceeds of the book will be transferred to your account at Gringotts.

Do not refuse it—you deserve it. Best of luck in your future endeavors, if they are anything like what you have attempted in the past, you will undoubtedly succeed.

Yours truly, SS

Her glassy eyes closed tightly, her heart beating so rapidly that she clutched the letter to her chest, catching her breath. Her face flushed hot and she pressed her hands to her face to cool it. Yours truly. Severus wasn't a man to throw words around lightly.

Severus remained perfectly still, though his heart rate likely matched Hermione's own beat for beat. It pained him to see her expression, unsure of her feelings merely based on a few tears.

They could not see the contents of her letter, though from Katie's discussion with her, Minerva could discern that it was from Severus. From the look on her face, she wondered what he had told her, and hoped somewhere in her heart that love would prevail in this instance. Damn the rules, and damn this stupid war, sucking everything that was good from everyone around her.

Remus and Minerva seemed taken aback at her nearly silent weeping, It was brief, and Hermione stopped several times… gathering herself to meet with Katie. Her grief was private and she was tired of letting it get to her.

Snape knew such an offer might be shocking— 'And when she sees the sum in her account she'll be shocked alright,' he thought. He imagined her tears had nothing to do with his offer and more to do with how they parted and how he still hadn't spoken to her, not really, like she deserved. He had written the same letter nine different ways before sending it. Better not to mix their unusual situation with their business relationship. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was trying to compensate her in some way for what he could not give her emotionally.

She conjured a handkerchief and touched up her face, unaware of how much time had transpired. Apparently, it was long enough that Katie had tentatively knocked on the door to check on her.

"Come in," Hermione said as clearly as she could, but she couldn't prevent the nasality coming through.

"Shocked?"

"He told you?"

Katie smiled and sat in the chair beside Hermione, adjusting her full skirt as she sat, clasping her hands and dropping them in her lap. "He sent a note. He's right you know. You do deserve it."

"I don't know what to say, I mean I know the book was doing well, but I-I had no idea."

"It's my job to give you some idea. Take a look at this," she said, retrieving a sales log from her neat desk. Turning to page she had marked, she handed the register over to Hermione. "Here."

Her fingers skimmed the entries. "What am I looking for?" she asked.

"Line thirty three."

Hermione's mouth hung open, her hand flew up to cover her astonishment. She spoke through her fingers. "Oh my God. Is that a projection?"

"No," Katie said with a grin. "That's total sales for the book since January." She paused. "Mind you, that's profits from Flourish and Blotts only, and likely a fraction of what he has earned."

Remus had been silently calculating since the mysterious references to a 'him' began. He was reasonably confident he could work it out, but when Katie said 'book' Remus' head turned sharply to face the man on his left.

Snape couldn't help but feel a certain amount of satisfaction in seeing Hermione begin to comprehend exactly how great five percent could be, and was so captivated by her facial expressions and her conversation with Katie that he was completely unaware of the two peers scrutinizing him.

"She's your calligrapher?" Minerva asked in astonishment.

"That's not what I was going to bring up," Remus growled.

Snape finally sprang to attention and shut his eyes, clenching his jaw. Damn it. "Remus, I would really prefer you hold your tongue. As you can imagine, I hardly wanted you to remain here for this extensive study of Hermione's daily habits."

Remus and Snape had their terse moments, but Remus did not exactly hold onto as much past bitterness as Snape did. He wouldn't consider holding something like this over his head, though he was sure that's what Snape was expecting from him. Remus wasn't one to judge people, but if he had not known of Hermione's feelings and the cruelty of the spell, his protectiveness would have won out and Snape would be a hex ridden lump on the floor. He took a deep breath, his mind still reeling from the age difference, why she left, and Snape's status as a spy. "I'm just… surprised is all. It's a lot to… think about."

"Indeed." Snape ignored Minerva and turned back to the mirror. "And the calligraphy issue should not ever be mentioned to anyone. Ever. Katie is terribly secretive about keeping the identity of the clients and the artisans confidential, even from each other. I had no idea Hermione penned the book until last week."

"She is incredibly talented," Minerva said in awe of her work on the manuscript.

"At a number of things," Snape mused.

Remus coughed uncomfortably.

"Bloody hell! Get your mind out of the gutter! I meant other than academically, like her musical talents for example."

Katie held up a box full of requests and shook it.

"Those are?" Hermione reached out for the box.

"All requests for your calligraphy. It is now suddenly en vogue to commission traditional work. Not that you need the money anymore…" Katie said, her voice rising at the end as if asking a question.

"Even if I don't need the money, I need something to occupy my time or I'll go mad." Hermione set the box in front of her and ran her fingers through her hair.

"He'll come around."

Hermione looked up with a snort that said, 'Don't be so sure.'

"I'll leave this with you then. I've already taken liberty to change identifiers and handwriting on the requests, so no more worries about that." Hermione laughed. "If you'll pardon me for prying, even if he wasn't… receptive to a relationship you really don't seem like the kind of woman who would give up so easily," Katie observed, yet also hinting and giving Hermione a meaningful look through narrowed eyes.

Hermione's face fell a bit, the sorrow renewed. "I um… I didn't exactly offer him an opportunity to respond to my declaration, and he did try to talk with me but..." Hermione sighed heavily and stared off in the distance, yet somehow looking through the unseen mirror and straight into Severus' eyes. "Now, I'm sorry interrupted him. I wonder what he would've said. Exploring things further really isn't possible right now due to other… complications. But you are right," Hermione said with her mouth upturned to a growing smile. "I'm not a woman who gives up easily. And if he knows anything about me, he knows that." The tone of her voice changed at the end of her statement suggesting a very determined woman indeed would be sure and hook her man. He wasn't getting away that easily.

Snape's soul stirred at that comment. She won't give up on me… He had never expected such devotion from another, certainly not any he could trust But Snape didn't know what he could do about it, except the most painful truth… they would have to wait. A relationship would only be possible if they survived the war. And at this rate, who knew when that would happen? Minerva chanced a glance at the hopeful man, and though she didn't articulate it, she was hopeful for him too.

"So what are you going to do?" Katie asked conspiratorially.

Hermione sighed. "For now, I'll have to wait."

"I know you love him, but don't put your life on hold forever, Hermione."

"He's worth waiting for Katie. And besides," Hermione pulled out a stack of papers from the box. "I have plenty of other things to keep me busy."

Katei winked at her. "I sorted them. The top stack is requests for party invitations, weddings, and letters. There are three requests for books, you'll want to take a look at those. And, as it was impossible to conceal the identity of the client on the last job, you have a rather large request from the Ministry."

Hermione bolted upright in her seat. "You're joking!"

Katie sat in front of Hermione and grasped her hands between them, lowering her voice, her eyes widening. "I'm serious. It's a big project, Hermione. And a lucrative one. They wanted to know your identity…"

"And you laughed in their face."

"And I laughed in their face," Katie affirmed with a chuckle.

Hermione pulled out the offer, which came in the form of an enormous, extravagant scroll. "Good grief! How long would I have to finish this? A year?"

"Can you imagine the possibilities?"

Hermione scanned the document as Katie continued to explain. "See? They aren't even asking for traditional work. You could use magic."

Hermione's mouth went wide and then formed an 'oh' of exclamation. She could feel a hardness form in the pit of her stomach making her sick. "Oh Katie… this could be so dangerous. I'm not so sure I'd want this kind of responsibility." Hermione worried her lower lip. "I would need a lot of time to think about it."

"They want to pay you for the finished seal and if they use it in the entryway then they will pay you an extra fee," Katie said.

Hermione's eyes went wide, her wheels turning. A seal, embedded in the floor of the Ministry of Magic. Every witch or wizard tried there, every Ministry of Magic employee would walk across it… The possibilities in that were too good to pass up. She couldn't do this alone and knew she would need help. She laughed. It was outrageous. Hermione imagined all of the SOS performing a spell in the middle of the MOM. Hysterical.

"Fudge would have a cow if he knew it was me."

Katie snickered. "I know you told me that you would never work for the Ministry, but this is just…" she searched for the words.

"Too good of an opportunity to pass up," Hermione said, and almost jumped out of her seat, her hand flying to cover her open mouth.

"Have ideas already?" Katie asked with a grin.

Hermione grinned until her cheeks hurt, eyes flashing brightly. "Oh Katie— it's going to take me so long to formulate a proper response." Hermione cracked her knuckles dramatically, grabbing a piece of paper and a quill from Katie's desk, beginning to jot down some ideas.

"Take your time, focus on the other offers first," Katie lectured like a mother.

Hermione did take her time. She sipped tea and sorted through other offers, calculating money and time to determine what would be most helpful and easiest to handle while she considered the Ministry offer. She drafted responses for five offers, declining others due to time constraints or deadlines that would pass too soon. Four were for parties or weddings and the last was the smallest book offering, but the most sentimental— a book of poetry for a fiftieth wedding anniversary allowing her to take as many artistic liberties as she wished in penning it. By early afternoon, Buckwheat had delivered the correspondence and already returned with three of the five replies from her eager clients, along with their deposits. Slowly Hermione rose from her chair, and took a long slow stretch and a yawn.

Katie returned as she had several times to check on her progress. "All done then?"

"Looks like." Hermione shrunk the Ministry request. "I think you better keep this locked up somewhere ultra-private."

Katie plucked the scroll from her grasp, waved her off and rolled her eyes. "Tut, tut. I am the Mistress of Secrecy, darling."

Buckwheat punctuated her comment with his own hoot of agreement.

"I need to drop by Gringotts and Mr. Lemmings and swing back home before work tonight."

"Work? No bartending I hope," Katie said innocently, sipping her tea.

Hermione swatted her arm playfully as she left her office with a full knapsack. Hermione turned around and stuck her head back in the doorway, holding onto the doorjamb. "Thank you, Katie. Really. I'm not sure I said that before. You really helped me keep it together out there," Hermione confessed with a sparkle in her eye.

"You're welcome, dear. My pleasure."

"That's interesting," Remus said aloud.

"I don't want to hear it," said a preoccupied Snape.

"Not that, she's doing a job for the Ministry. And it's big."

"Remus, you heard Severus. Her work with this woman is secret. We need to let her come to us with this matter. At the very least Hermione should consider going to Severus with this matter, since he is aware of her occupation."

"She should tell the Order," Remus said firmly.

"You know how this works, Remus. This is an observation period, not a time where we show up in her life and tell her how to live it. She is quite capable of making her own decisions, and we know next to nothing about the Ministry's request. We don't even know whether or not she'll take it," Minerva said in defense of her former student.

"You know she'll take it, Minerva," Snape interjected. "She loves a challenge. They asked her to create a seal for the MOM, with or without magic. How tempting it that? Did you see her face light up? She's already working out her plan."

Remus and Minerva knew that as well as Snape did. Snape just hoped she would come to him as Minerva had suggested, and wondered what ideas Hermione was cooking in that brilliant mind of hers.

Hermione went straight away to see Mr. Lemmings in the back of Eeylops Owl Emporium. Hermione and the store clerk chatted amiably, and he expressed relief on her safe return to the wizarding world. His polite but concerned inquiry about her health reminded her that her disappearance had been publicized. She was hoping most passers-by would have forgotten her, or at least find the news dwindling in importance. Snape watched as she ordered a list of standard calligraphers' ingredients in greater quantities than most. Remembering vaguely how familiar she and the vendor had been last summer, and then how she hung around Schrivenshaft's front window in Hogsmeade, he wondered why, as a seasoned spy, he did not notice the clues identifying her as his calligrapher.

Snape leaned forward in his chair as Hermione made a deposit and checked her balance at Gringotts. Hermione nearly lost her balance and a few shades of color when the Head Goblin showed her a slip of paper with the contents of her vault. The goblin showed no reaction to her shock and she left after thanking him. The goblin smirked at her misplaced gratitude.

Thankfully, she thought, the Goblins at Gringotts were discreet enough to allow the transactions from his account to hers to remain a secret. She knew Severus was aware of the same. She checked her watch, picked up a sandwich and ate it quickly at her flat while scribbling ideas for the Ministry project between bites. Jack returned from Hogwarts with Pansy's reply, leaving her contemplating their bond and Pansy's concerns about loyalties of certain other SOS members. Hermione's teeth clenched and became angry during certain passages.

'…Ginny and I were thinking—because we are all bonded through our experience (and the tattoo I suppose could be a link of sorts) maybe we can't deliberately betray each other, since we're sisters. And even though you may not think that the members of the SOS would ever betray each other, that doesn't mean they wouldn't consider the aims and objectives of Lord Voldemort. Some of our sisters may not want themselves on the chopping block, and may not agree with some of his methods, but that doesn't mean they don't agree with the fundamental ideals behind his movement…'

Hermione broke out in a cold sweat and sat, dumbfounded, on the couch.

'…I have concerns about Daphne and Tracey. I won't go into the reasons why now. Let's just say I overheard some disturbing things, 'Mudblood' and 'filth' was thrown around in conversation. I was so angry Hermione. To hear them speak, I mean— how could you ever think about your sister that way? I have no doubt of our bond and affinity for one another. If our bond of friendship and sisterhood weren't true on some level, we wouldn't have been able to heal you. I just don't know how they get past their prejudices to form friendships and then can suspend those positive experiences to continue to believe such warped logic about pureblooded superiority…'

"What's wrong with her?" Remus asked. "She so pale."

Minerva's and Snape's own faces drew taut with concern at how disturbed Hermione looked. Her emotions roiled under the surface of her skin.

Shaking with righteous anger, Hermione didn't know whether to punch something or cry. Her sisters… supporters of Voldemort. She took a few deep breaths and paced around the room, shaking her head and chewing her lower lip. She snatched up the letter again and reread it.

'…Maybe the tattoo isn't such a bad thing, Hermione. It will be a daily reminder of our magical bond and what we went through (Did I say daily? Well, in your case a bi-weekly one— How on earth could you not notice?) Every time I see it, I don't think of Draco as much as I think of that spell, and all of our meetings, and of Kendra and Melanie. There could still be hope for Daphne, I'm just saying be wary of blinding trusting your sisters with other information…'

She tossed it on her dresser and threw herself on her grandmother's bed, worriedly rubbing her face.

Snape stood out of his seat. "There it is… you can see the reflection of it in the dresser mirror." He walked up to the looking glass and stooped to peer at the tiny writing, at least the parts that were legible.

"Really? What does it say?" Minerva asked.

Snape summarized what parts of the letter he could read, astonished at the forethought that the Pansy, Ginny and Hermione had put into evaluating the beliefs of their peers. They didn't make the common mistake in holding the loyalty for friends synonymous with shared ideals. Those were mistakes that everyone on this side of the mirror had made.

Minerva stiffened at how detached Snape was when relating the suspicions about Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. But perhaps nothing surprised him anymore.

She let out a short laugh. "We're as bad as they are," she thought aloud.

"I'm sorry, you are going to have to be more specific, Minerva," Snape said dryly.

"Students think we teach and do almost nothing else but teach. They think we don't understand what's happening in the larger world, not contemplating all of the details and nuances of the politics of war. They think that our lives are uncomplicated because they only see us in the classroom. But we're guilty of the same thing. We were all sitting around yesterday weren't we, Remus? We were wondering what job Hermione was going to get… if she would go to a Muggle University, glad she got her own flat, relieved that the spell was over so she could have some peace right? And look at all she's preoccupied with! This is a day, just one day in the life of Hermione Granger."

She spent two hours in the sealed room with Katie's orders where three observers were no longer able to see her, emerging with a package wrapped in a purplish paper Snape recognized as work for a client. She sent it out with Jack before grabbing a large tote and her purse. Instead of apparating she walked, and the three professors wondered where she was heading next if she had told Katie earlier that she had 'work' to do.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Hermione trotted down the street, waving to the man at the flower stand by her flat. They were already acquainted and he set up his booth close to show times. Snape barely registered her whereabouts as she slipped in through the double doors of Rue Nineteen, which at first glance looked rather non-descript during the day. But who could mistake the manager Tom Phelps for anyone else with that finely wrapped Cuban hanging from his lips? Not that Snape smoked, and he was sure Hermione didn't appreciate it as he did, but Mr. Phelps had fine taste in cigars.

"That's the place Hermione sang last year," Remus said to Minerva.

Snape smirked. Gryffindors were always so blunt.

"This is an outrage! One of the finest students ever to grace our school is working in a club," Minerva said.

"It's not our fault, Minerva. What were we supposed to do? We didn't even have time to market her skills properly to any contacts we have." Remus groaned. He was already feeling they had failed her.

Snape snorted. Hermione didn't want just any job, she wanted to learn.

Remus continued, "…She wasn't supposed to graduate for a year and most people assume she's still in school. The Ministry would've been throwing themselves at her, but now…" He laughed. The whole women's movement at the school hadn't helped her image much. Few people knew the whole story but Fudge knew enough to veto any hire slip with her name on it.

The pair droned on about the wasted talents of Hermione (with Minerva terrified that she was again bartending as she had joked with Albus), and Snape watched the scene unfold in the mirror as Hermione set down her bag on one of the empty tables by the band.

"Yo! Hermione!" A man called out.

The band half-cheered and clapped, elbowing Hermione appreciatively as she walked by.

They had a great time last night. They played well. Hermione had finished her NEWTS and filled with that feeling of accomplishment and completion, she sang her heart out. She felt really free. Everyone did. They cut up carried on and laughed with the crowd. Friday night, the band (and Hermione) faltered in the middle of a song, and the conductor stopped them dramatically, yelling "CUT! CUT! SHUDDUP!" Everyone laughed, patrons included, and they started the piece over, better than before.

"Wooo!! Way to go!"

Hermione blushed. The clapping yanked Remus and Minerva out of their ranting and they paused to see what the commotion was about.

"Thanks you guys," Hermione said saddling up to the edge of the platform and leaning her fanny against it. She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of music and a three-ring binder. She stuck a red marking pencil in her hair. The murmuring continued, joking about last night's events, the smaller conversations blending and getting louder as people competed to be heard. Finally Stevens silenced them with a loud whistling between two fingers.

"HEY! Shuddup. Let's get this started, ladies. From the second page of No Ordinary Love."

Hermione flipped quickly to the spot, but mentally knew what stanza and entry he was speaking of before looking.

"One and two and…" the conductor mouthed and Hermione came in, sang a few bars and stopped as the conductor cut her off.

"Wider than Victorian lace… Ta-ller than th…"

Stevens made the cut sign and started again. And again.

They repeated this five or six times until he was satisfied, Snape becoming more irritated each time he interrupted her beautiful voice. But, Hermione didn't seemed bothered by it at all. When Steven gave her direction, she took out her little red pencil and made markings where he wanted words clipped, stressed, or softened and each time her cadence sounded a touch different, giving each phrase a lift.

They changed around, skipping different styles of music.

"…surely you want it back… Is it a…"

A high whistle cut her off mid-verse. The band never tired, though the three eavesdroppers were exhausted just watching the two hour practice.

"From the top please." Stevens raised his baton and began the tune.

"We can only turn into… one.
And I won't ever be too
Far away to feel you
And I won't hesitate at all…

Whenever you call…"

"Next, please… next, next, people." He clinked his baton against the stand ceasing unnecessary chatter. "From the second stanza…"

"I am thinkin' of you
In my sleepless solitude tonight
If it's wrong to love you
Then my heart just won't let me be right
Cause You're just so far, like a distant star I'm wishing on tonight…

I'd give my all to have
just one more night with you
I risk my life to feel
You body next to mine

Cause I can't go on
Living in the memory of our song
I'd give my all,
for your love
tonight…

Baby can you feel me…'

"Cut, cut cut… Beautiful. Next piece, Lush Life."

Halfway through, Stevens raised his voice, "Let's do something sexy."

"Sexy, hmmm?" Hermione raised an eyebrow and sorted through her music quickly as the pianist groaned.

Yet another last minute piece.He was good, but hated it when Steven pulled this shit.

"This will knock your socks off." Hermione stood up straight and relaxed her neck. Now I'm no Lagaylia, but this is sexy as hell. Hermione dropped her voice into her lower register, and she had been practicing. She thought about performing a charm to make her voice lower just so she wouldn't strain it so, but it was a method of last resort.

The pianist was happy because the tune was simple. He couldn't understand what was so special about it yet until Hermione opened her mouth to vocalize the seductive moans of the opening stanza. She enunciated every word, each consonant flowing together in a continuous swell. Her lips pressed together as if in a kiss or sweet memory as each beautiful line left her lips. She sang out to the crowd, but the song was also for her… alone, like she had been for the last months.

"Ooooo…. Aaah. Oooaah… Slip away…

Stuck inside this lonely place...
Wondering if I'm ever gonna see your face…
it can bring you down...
while this world goes round.
Time is still inside my room…
You know it's not too late, can't be too soon—
To be lost and found… to be up and down…

And oh… I gonna wrap my arms around you
Won't let you slip away, can't let you slip away form me
And oh… I'm gonna let my charms astound you…
Won't let you slip away can't let you slip away from me.

I thought that love was here to stay…
Didn't realize I was led astray…
Thought the world was mine, never look behind.
I never though that spring would turn to fall
Oooh… now I see the writing on the wall…
Now I'm feeling fine, just to pass the time…"

Pretty soon Stevens incorporated violins and other instruments to fill out the sound, never over shadowing Hermione's breathy, but confident seduction of every member of the band.

Snape shrank back a little at the melancholy lyrics. He was almost certain that most of them described their current predicament pretty well, and while he might have been flattered he was feeling the guilt and regret press on him.

So enthralled by the hypnotic sound of her voice he was unaware that the piece had ended, under Stevens whistled and the band cheered. The band loved new music and this was pretty good.

"Good work, ladies and gentlemen." The ad dispersed and Hermione slipped toward the rear of the theatre.

Snape didn't notice at first how her hands were trembling. Hermione leaned against the wall, and sighed into her hands, trying to dampen the sad emotions welling inside her. She shook her head. You can't do this, you have to go on.

Stevens approached her from the left, "You know blues singers do some of their best work when they sing from a sad place. You were fabulous Friday night. Even in practices… wow."

Hermione snorted. "I'm glad you get some pleasure out of my suffering," she said dryly. She knew Stevens was trying to say something to cheer her up but it wasn't working.

Stevens shifted his feet around a bit. He was working up his nerve to ask her something, and Hermione caught on quickly.

"What is it John?" She glared at him and dared him to ask the question he was holding behind his teeth.

"I know Nick said that you wouldn't sing…"

"No!" Hermione stopped him cold right there. "I will not sing that song."

Such a dialogue perked the ears of the eavesdroppers, and Snape straightened stiffly, liking John Stevens less and less with each passing word.

"Why not?" he asked with a bit of bite. "People have been requesting it a lot."

"No. You cannot ask me to do this." Hermione set her jaw firmly and looked away from John as if the matter was settled, rummaging through her things to find something she didn't need, just to brush him off.

"I could make it a requirement."

Hermione spun on her heel, looking all the more imposing. "Or else what? You'll fire me? You know, I haven't asked for much. I decline to sing one song and now that's all you want me to sing. I am not, repeat not, singing that bloody song." As if on cue, Mark the pianist began playing the very obvious intro to Everytime We Say Goodbye.

John rolled his eyes, as his pianist's timing was off. This was not the way to persuade her.

Hermione's eyes narrowed further, and resisted the urge to stab a finger into his chest. "John, I've been through a lot recently and that is just too painful for me. I understand your wife left you recently. How would you like for him to play Every Time You Go Away?"

He made a sour expression, and then gritted his teeth. "I see your point. Sorry, I asked." He slipped out and left her to prepare.

Damn right. Bugger off.

As Snape watched her get ready for the performance, he could only consider himself a very, very lucky man. Hermione was all woman. Anyone seeing her under these circumstances and out of the assigned role she had as student at Hogwarts could instantly recognize it in how she carried herself. People at Hogwarts, including her peers Harry, Ron, and the Weasleys hadn't really acknowledged this side of her at all. Last May at Rue Nineteen, they were awed by her performance but thought it was a studious act from a girl who always primly followed rules and made sacrifices for the cause. The room full of Gryffindors couldn't have been more proud. At that time Snape had been impressed with her talents, but still felt that she was a young slip of a girl with something to prove. The know-it-all once again showing off her plumes.

Hermione carried herself with dignified grace, head held high even when people weren't watching her.

Hermione slipped in the back and changed out of her slacks into an almost sheer black dress. It was sleeveless, plunging low in the front and back revealing ample cleavage (thank God for charms), and the tiny, black cylindrical beads which studded in waves along the filmy fabric were the only things providing any modesty for her. She was grateful for the light dress with no sleeves. The lights and length of the performance made it unbearably hot up there.

She touched up her make-up and Remus noticed Snape's preoccupation with the figure in the mirror. Hermione was a beautiful young woman and no one had noticed, not even Snape— until Hermione brought matters to his attention. Today, Remus noticed his change in posture, his facial expressions, his whole change in attitude when he looked at her. But Snape would never speak of her with either of them. Remus dared not to mention it.

They watched silently as she sang through several songs and found her rhythm.

Snape hissed as the tissue beneath the tattoo of his left arm burned him deeply, almost to the bone.

"Severus!" Minerva whispered as she turned to address her colleague. He always hid and display of pain well, do to have him cry out in present company really worried her.

Voldemort must be angry, Snape thought, dreading his visit with his false Master. The last time he had been so fiercely summoned was after he had failed to kill Harry after the TriWizard Tournament.

Minerva looked up at him with a worried expression. "Go on then, be careful." She always said what was repetitive in the extreme. Go, don't let Voldemort kill you. Come back alive. Minerva always said that to him when she knew he was being called. He tried to hide it from her, but if she was ever in his company, she always seemed to know. Since his return to work for the light, Minerva had extended an almost uncomfortable amount of compassion his way, but she meant well by it.

Minerva knew his role was important, but she could never get used to seeing him leave. She had been an especially strict to him when he was her pupil, but then she was angry at Severus' dabbling into darker magic. She always wondered how he could do so well in DADA and not in Transfiguration. That is, of course, where he picked up his snappish criticism 'foolish wand waving' from. He dared to sarcastically dismiss Professor McGonagall when he didn't make a superior grade on a transfigurations test. She gave him a week's detention. It was one test, and Snape did admirably after that, even though his thoughts were always preoccupied with simmering cauldrons. She tried to hide a fond look toward Severus. Any sympathy she showed him was misinterpreted as pity. Minerva saw him pause in leaving to a summons for the first time, and knew then without a doubt how he cared for Hermione. She desperately wanted happiness for him. He had known so little of that.

Rather than leave immediately, he endured the pain as best he could, hesitating a moment, chancing one more look at Hermione. She finished the last note of her song and thanked the crowd. Something came across her face that seemed disturbing to him, almost sad, and Hermione approached the mike.

"I was told… that I could um, make a dedication. So, wherever you are love— be safe, be well—this one is for you." She sucked in a deep breath audible on the microphone and her high, clear voice happily sailed through the notes, in her stomach held a bubble of emotion. Her eyes twinkled and her cheeks rose to her eyelashes as she sang.

"From the very first time I rest my eyes on you boy, my heart said follow through,
but I know now that I'm way down on your line, but the wait is feeling's fine…
So don't treat me like a puppet on a string, 'cause I know how to do my thing….
Don't talk to me as if you think I'm dumb, darlin'…
I wanna now when you're gonna come…see…

I don't wanna wait in vain for you love…"

Snape felt filled with her song, and rather than feel vulnerable about stirring his emotions prior to his pressing meeting he felt her instill him with some sort of protection as Gaia stirred, aware of the blessing. It was the first time he had been reminded of Gaia's presence in his being since before Hermione's return.

He wanted to stay desperately, and listen to her sing for him, one last time. Gods, please let this not be the last time. Snape stood up and left in a flurry of black fabric, his cloak whipping behind urgent footsteps leading him to the park across from Grimmauld Place. He shoved all of the feelings welling inside him behind the wall only an Occlumens of his caliber could erect and apparated to the Dark Lord's side.

Immediately, he dropped to one knee. "My Lord."

"My dear servant," Voldemort hissed with contempt, emphasizing the faithful word that did not describe his tardiness. "Such a long time it takes for you to come to my side."

"You have my deepest apologies, my Lord. How may I be of service?" Snape could feel the air crackle with the Dark Lord hostility. His master's words were laced with a quiet contempt and venom that left the forest as cold as a den of Dementors. Snape's wand in the hook of his sleeve, seven inches from his fingertips felt like seven feet where facing the Dark Lord was concerned.

"Of late, you seem unconcerned with how your services are best utilized. You supposedly have been in my service for twenty years, Severus. Just like Lucius over here." Lord Voldemort turned his head to the crumpled form of the elite wizard on the ground. Lucius clearly had seen better days.

Snape just stayed quiet and waited for instructions. Punishment from Voldemort was harsh, cruel, and in some cases barely survivable. But it was not, and never was swift. The Dark Lord liked to draw things out. Snape had no love left for his old friend Lucius, who had long since turned into a monster nothing like he remembered from childhood. Still, he had pity for the current condition of his peer. Snape had a sinking feeling that the form of Lucius was foreshadowing his own future. Seeing his blood on the grass and seared clothing, his cane sheathed wand by Voldemort's side told Snape things had gotten pretty ugly. Voldemort never took their wands. He always left them with a way to defend themselves, if they dared to try. Obviously things had progressed to a point where Lucius felt the need to use his wand; otherwise it would've never been taken from him. This was very bad. He had no idea what they had discussed, but he could hazard a guess.

Voldemort told Snape to stand up, and he did. He could tell however, by the glint in his reptilian eyes that conversation was over. "Crucio!" Punishment before explanation. "Crucio…crucio…crucio…"

As Snape slipped into unconsciousness, he detached himself from the pain and escaped to his mental sanctuary, the place where his mind and body were free from physical harm. It was another plane of existence, and one where he felt so blissful and at peace that he many times had found it hard to turn away from to face pain and the harsh reality of living. The torture he was enduring was always at the edges of his mind, the only hint that his dissociation wasn't real.

But his sanctuary was different this time, he brought her with him. Hermione was who most brought him peace. He was in his own bed, the silky sheets against his skin…soothing him. Snape gazed at the woman of his dreams. She looked so beautiful. He reached out to touch the figment, his thumb grazing across her lips, down her chin to her neck and collarbone. As his skin made contact with his vision, he was instantly reminded that it wasn't real. She wasn't real, not here. And he couldn't stay here if he ever wanted to be with her. Really be with her, protect her.

"Severus, are you finally awake?" A firm hand reached down to shake his shoulder.

Snape opened a bloody eye, blinking several times to focus on the shape before him.

"There you are. Now we begin again. Crucio."

--------------------

Hermione woke up the next morning and stretched. She spent a large part of her day completing the addresses and invitations for two small dinner parties and sending them out to Katie via Buckwheat, who arrived to pick them up promptly at five in the evening. Once she had some time to herself, she thought on the Ministry project, actually it had occupied her thoughts most of the evening and the next morning.

She had jotted down a lot of ideas but they could all so badly backfire, she really needed a sounding board, and one who could keep her confidences. She drafted a small note to Severus, pausing before addressing it with his first name. She tore it up and started again:

Dear S I need your advice and discretion on a matter. Can we meet in a day or so to discuss it?

She signed it with her signature ambiagram, realizing she had never explained to him how she came up with the design. She sent Jack on his way to Hogwarts and hoped for the best. She hadn't expected to need to talk with him so soon, and hoped he wouldn't think her to be intrusive on his space. It really was important business, and hoped that he wouldn't read any ulterior motives into her letter. He was a Slytherin though, and they could be suspicious of anything.

It bugged her that she didn't know how he'd respond. If she sent a letter to Harry or Ron or Ginny, she could reasonably predict their responses. It bothered her that aside from guessing that he might claim to be annoyed, or inconvenienced, or flat out refuse her— she couldn't come up with any other possibilities. She worked on the poetry book, stopping every hour to stretch her arms and legs, catching a bit of lunch mid-day. The longer Jack was gone, the more preoccupied she was with his return.

Two days later, Jack sailed in the window, scroll attached to his foot. Hermione raced to his side and her feathered familiar let out a low hoot. Hermione couldn't believe it. He hadn't even opened it. Jack couldn't deliver it. Hermione almost screamed in outrage. How dare he not even accept mail from her? "Coward!" Hermione fumed, as she paced around her apartment. "I can't believe he didn't even open it… that is just really low…" she grumbled all the way around her apartment and down the stairs to get her mail.

Now that she was formally a Hogwarts graduate, Hermione immediately received her letter for induction into the Order. It was inconspicuous, a letter in her mailbox of all places. She didn't notice it at first, sorting through her mail like she always did. It was among a multitude of pieces of junk mail— three credit card applications, two bills and the invitation. At first glance it announced how she could have already won one of thousands of fabulous prizes. When she made to toss it into the garbage it flashed a brilliant array of colors— red, oranges, and gold. She threw it from her immediately, inspecting her hands and body for any sign of poisoning or curses. She looked at the envelope again. It hadn't exploded but resumed its previous disguise. After casting a few charms over it, she determined it likely was not a trap and tentatively touched it again. It transformed into a brilliant colorful invitation with a gold seal with a Phoenix imbedded in the wax. She broke the seal and opened it.

Tonight 10:30pm.

And soon as she read it, it burst into flames and turned to a pile of ash. Then, the ash transformed into a piece of junk mail once more. Hermione reached again to pick it up, but it still captioned the empty promise of millions. She tossed it into the garbage, impressed with the invitation and anxiously awaiting her initiation into the Order of the Phoenix.

Hermione always wondered what an Order initiation would look like. She, Harry, Ron, and Ginny had all fantasized about it… what it would be like when they were finally old enough to see what went on behind the swinging kitchen door.

Oddly she found herself thinking less about the initiation rites and the excitement of being a part of the Order's war against Voldemort and more concerned with how she would interact with Severus when she walked in the door of 12 Grimmauld Place. They couldn't continue to ignore each other. After Ron and Harry found out about Severus, she wondered how many people knew, who Dumbledore had told. It was quite possible it would be discussed, especially if it was considered to be a risk to Severus in his role as spy. Her heart beat fast and she willed it to slow.

This is important. I can't believe I'm thinking about him at a time like this. All Hermione ever wanted to be was useful, and now with so much of her time spent thinking about him (Still!), she felt like her life was an utter waste. Top of my class, passed all my NEWTS, still don't' know what the hell I'm doing. Hermione… you wanted a purpose…

Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door. She reached the small steps too the shabby door and lifted the silver serpent door knocker to rap three times.

"Come in Hermione," McGonagall said with a small smile.

Hermione slipped past her former professor and saw Mrs. Weasley. She gave her hand a squeeze and ushered her into the kitchen without speaking.

Everyone was looking very somber and Hermione couldn't figure out why. Remus kept nervously glancing at his watch, prompting Hermione to look at her own. It was 10:28pm. Arthur and Kingsley Shacklebolt were speaking in hushed tones in the corner. Tonks, who was usually the bubbly bright one, was mysteriously silent.

Hermione leaned her head toward McGonagall. "What? What's wrong?" she asked in a whisper.

McGonagall's kips formed a firm worried line before she spoke. Before she could say anything, Dumbledore presence filled the room. His face was long and serious, though he seemed to make an effort to be cheerful upon seeing Hermione.

Hermione was waiting for Severus to walk in behind him but Mrs. Weasley warded the door shut.

"Ah, Hermione. I'm glad you could join us. I'm afraid it will just be all of us today," he said wearily to the group.

Everyone shuffled uncomfortably and sat around the elongated kitchen table which had been enlarged to accommodate everyone. This was Hermione's first meeting so she didn't really know what was troubling everyone else so much.

Albus cleared his throat, "I now call the Order of the Phoenix in session. I have the pleasure of introducing one of Hogwarts most recent graduates, Hermione Jane Granger. Will the person who petitioned for her admittance into the Order please make themselves known?"

Professor McGonagall stood. "I did, Albus."

"And why did you make such a recommendation?" he asked.

"Hermione is a dedicated and talented young woman. She has shown everyone over the years how creative and loyal she can be to her friends and to the larger community. She has served the Order well in the past, initiating magical protection for the school and extending help to her classmates and at the risk of her own life, though I believe not foolishly so."

"Who supports Minerva's sponsorship of Hermione Jane Granger?"

"I second," came from Arthur, Molly, Remus and Tonks.

"Hermione, please step forward." Hermione pushed herself from the table and walked toward Dumbledore. Dumbledore took her hands in his, and Hermione permitted him to look deep into her eyes. "Order membership is not a light burden to bear. I know you take your responsibilities seriously so I want you to listen to what I have to say very carefully. The Order business is secret. The Order business is not always legal. The Order comes before family, before friends, before money, before things, before self. The Order is about more than its members. The sole purpose of the Order is to achieve the end of the tyranny of Voldemort and all who follow him. Hermione Jane Granger, do you accept this responsibility?" The gravity in Dumbledore's voice rumbled in room.

"I do." Hermione said unblinking, not losing Dumbledore's gaze for one moment.

Being a witch or wizard and swearing to such statements was a very serious matter. It was, in essence a magically binding contract.

With the DA, one such as Marietta Edgecombe could survive boils. Hermione was pretty sure with Dumbledore at the helm of the Order that she's die a thousand slow deaths in the pit of hell before she ever betrayed a secret or shirked her duty.

"Raise your wand please, Hermione."

She raised her new wand in the air, feeling a bit nervous, but trying to put on a noble and serious face.

"Touch your wand tip to your head, heart, wrists, abdomen and feet after you say each of the following statements… 'I swear to protect with my life the secrets of the Order…"

Hermione tapped and responded, "I swear to protect with my life the secrets of the Order."

"I swear to come to the aid of all the world when called by the Order…" Dumbledore said.

The world— God. She breathed through her mouth. "I swear to come to the aid of all the world when called by the Order…" Head, hearts, wrists, abdomen, feet. Hermione felt the binding magic wrap around her, a chill down her neck to her toes… pulsing through her, sealing the spell, ensuring her commitment.

"I will not abandon my post. I will share my home. My property, my money if needed…" he continued.

"I will not abandon my post. I will share my home. My property, my money if needed," she echoed, tapping her body again in the proper sequence. She said the words and felt the magnitude of what she was promising shock her to the bone. Hermione Granger always believed there were limits. According to the oath she just took there were no limits on sacrifice.

She felt a thrill run through her, realizing what everyone in this room had pledged. Dumbledore waved his wand over her and muttered a few words. It was like a truth binding spell, she felt the magic bind her body to everyone else in the room as the magic wove through her.

Now Dumbledore was no madman, but what Hermione quickly realized is that for over twenty years most all of the people around this table and more had sworn the same oath, offered the same resources to uphold and fight for all that was good. She looked around at all of the wizards and witches who were living a modest life. Perhaps the Weasleys weren't poor, but in fact lived a meager life to support the Order? Maybe they offered their home to Harry and her out of obligation as well as out of love?

As much as Hermione wondered about what sacrifices had been made, friend and family lost, she could look into every one of the members' eyes and see sincerity there, and kinship. Like the SOS. And when she walked in she felt like an alien, an outsider. Was the intense feeling of belonging like magic? Did everyone feel this way? Did Severus? Did he feel it, the connection of her membership wherever he was?

She hadn't realized that she had been standing there in awe for some time. The other members didn't seem to mind, and found her silence not at all unusual. Dumbledore gave her a warm smile. He hugged her tightly.

"Fellow Order members, I present our newest inductee." Everyone clapped and stood to greet and offer their congratulations.

Members dispersed quickly, leaving Dumbledore and the Weasleys. McGonagall stayed behind too.

Minerva leaned over and whispers in her ear, "He wanted to be here." She seems visibly worried that Snape was not present.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione sighed, not wanting to think about why he didn't show, but after the oath she just took she did begin to worry. Surely he wouldn't miss an initiation just to avoid her.

Minerva placed a hand on her shoulder to get her more careful attention. "Hermione, Severus had never missed a meeting. Not ever."

She had hoped, at the Order meeting to see him… and yet she had dreaded it also, worrying about an indifferent stare and apparent rejection, like their evening together meant less than nothing. Now, wondering about his safety she would give anything for a stare, even a cold one if it meant he would be okay.

"That's why everyone was so quiet then," Hermione's trembling voice concluded.

Hermione's heart leapt with a pang of worry. One more evening at the side of the Dark Lord, bowing in mock servitude, hiding his loyalties in a secret place along with so many other secrets that would swiftly earn him a death sentence.

"How long as he been gone?" she dared ask.

Minerva looked at her with watery eyes and whispered, "Too long Hermione."

"Oh my, God." Hermione blinked repeatedly, shaking her head, unaware she had spoken out loud. Minerva squeezed her shoulder and pulled her into a hug, but Hermione turned away. They were still in earshot of others, and Hermione was too private of a person to make a public display of worry.

After leaving Grimmauld Place, Hermione leaned against a tree in the nearby park before disapparating. She shut her eyes, and said a small selfish prayer, hoping somewhere that Severus was safe, and coming home.

Author's Notes:

Once again, thank you thank you so much for your reviews and kind words and patience. I did however see my first flame because I waited only 6 weeks to update, someone thought I abandoned the fic. Geez y'all 35,000 words is a lot to proofread and refine. But I also just got pregnant in the last 6 weeks (wink) so now you know what kept me! Hooray!

I say it again, y'all are so awesome! Thanks to all of you who have stayed with me through the whole thing, prodding me along!

Anna- Of course I KNOW, I'm ME. (Said in best impression of Don Ameche, ever seen Trading Places? If not, never mind). I am only a little cruel, so I will leave you with a teaser:

And so Snape's torture continued until he awoke, half-healed but weary. He was sitting on a cot in a white room, and knew this setting was the last place any Death Eater wanted to be. Most captives never returned from this room, certainly no Death Eater turned spy. Snape realized that his wand was still with him, partly because Lord Voldemort found it amusing, and partly because he probably had not the strength or the audacity to fire back at his punisher. At the same moment he realized he had his wand, he also realized he was not alone in the room.

As a defensive reaction, he jerked himself upright from the bed, staring into the cold reptilian gaze of Voldemort and a rather smug looking Lucius Malfoy.

Oh Bugger.

"How is it that a Mudblood can command powerful magic from a wand such as yours?"

How about that!!!

Shabopo- Hey! Thanks for the review, hope you are doing well. Things are pretty exciting at our house right about now.

Duck- Thank you thank you, I hope no brain damage has befallen you! And the Burden of Sight is temporarily on hold (ever since I caught The Twenty's plot bunny) and will likely resume after Dec.

The Perfectionist- Thanks, I hope you like it. I have already written the ending. I just have to get the middle thing.

Fanfiction Fan- Oh yeah. The next chapter will likely be much shorter. Hopefully soon soon.

Gin- I am unhappy at your review placing me in the third person. I am right here. Never left. In six weeks I have caught up on all my reading at ashwinder and wrote this chapter, intending to end it in one, but there were too many details. As for the Burden of Sight, I was intending to end it earlier than it's current length, however readers asked me to continue and now I'm trying to write 'THE WAR'. Ohmygod, I have no idea how to do that, so it will likely have to wait until after the holidays as I have a huge quilt project due Christmas. And I hand quilt. Eek!

Nilwethein- Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

Tabii- I'm here in Houston. Typing, pecking, typing…

crs- Sad face. I haven't forgotten. I must have really tormented you guys with my frequent posting previously. It is much harder to wrap up a fic neatly and (cry) put it to bed than it is to begin it. Thank you for your review.

Qr8fizz- Thank you for your review. And yep, she did leave Hogwarts, take her NEWTS and not tell anyone until Snape spilled the beans. Even Pansy doesn't know yet. Likely only one more chapter and an epilogue. Voldemort doesn't think anything is impossible for him. Very resilient SOB. Thank you for your review. More soon.

Jade 121- Thank you for reading and reviewing! Here it is!

Lady Belaqua- Thank you so much for your review, I assure you that your review does not go lost amongst others. I value your feedback and thank you for the time spent to send me your thoughts.

asdf-As you wish.

J Deann- Ohh…. Sorry. Updating now. Thank you for your prodding! J

cayla- Here you go!

Whizbees- I'm sorry you were sick, hope you are better bow that I've given something for you to read

Meriadoc/ Celithathein- Thank you. (Blushes)

N- Thanks tons!

DeepWaterAngel- I thank you, but alas do not have the energy for a sequel. If I did, it would revolve around the war, and the seal that Hermione is undertaking for the ministry, as well as the relationship between Draco and his father, and how Draco would find his role in the world. I nearly put him sharing a flat with Pansy and Hermione, but I just couldn't plausibly work it in. Hermione wanted space, but she can be guilted into things I think. Ah well. Too late. One more chapter. Tahnk you for offering your fic to extend. Unfortunately, as you can tell, I'm struggling with finishing my own or risk flogging by the masses.

Juniper- I hope you've been able to finish reading by now. I haven't had problems seeing it all on fanfic. I was posting on ashwinder and then I lost the info on how to format my text for uploading to their website, so I think I only have the first 5 chapters on that one.

Lyress- Thank you for hanging on and giving your support and feedback. I liked the Krum part too. At first he wasn't there and then I added him. I figure, anyone could be pulled into the DE madness, especially out of family honor or obligation. I like the different characters. We must see Draco, Goyle and Krum making their own decisions choosing their own paths. Even Ron comes to some sort of understanding with Hermione. I promise and update sooner that 6 weeks for this last one!

DustofAPhoenix- Thank you Fire, for your kind review. Many times I have been Hermione in the bar pouring shots, and unfortunately have never been in Snape's shoes. I never in my life thought I'd do something like this and it's just… cool! It's nice to have a way to expel and shape that creative energy. Good luck with your fic, and when you post. Post one chap at a time so you can get feedback and correct as you go. I regret that with the previous fic, the Burden of Sight, I posted 15 or more chapters at once. Sigh. I can't wait to read your masterpiece!

BrooklynScott- Thank you. I think some on the best tension in creative writing is when characters are misinterpreted or misunderstood, or carry a secret. In short, I love angst.

Ephirel- Oh my gosh, I'm very flattered. I have lost so much sleep over finishing people's works in an evening. Going to bed at 4-4:30am, must get up in an hour and a half to get ready for work. Sorry I didn't go more into the Goddesses. I had intended to, and that is a weakness in my knowledge. Perhaps if I pick back through it, I can add some stuff. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.

Franflutewitch- I'd love for him to propose too, but I think that thought might give him a heart attack. The war is on and he'll probably wait for things to gel before he moves on such a thing. Despite her love for him, he will probably still be mindful of her youth, and that niggling in the back of his mind that he's not good enough. Fran, I love you tons and will e-mail you soon before I post with the news above. Thank you for your encouaragement.

Joani- Thank you for reading and reviewing! Twice. wink

Brook- Thank you for re-reading! I have too (just to get ideas on how to wrap this puppy up).

LynPiton- Thank you! Me too. GIRLS RULE!

Laicamiel- Thank you, and I can't imagine a plotting Dumbledore to try and get those two together unless he knows of some prophecy or something. I fall for Severus too, especially when he's unable to deny the warmer feelings which clash with his role, and force him to look at himself in a different way. Surprise, surprise, It's 9:23am here and I actually did get a good nights sleep!

Strawberry 22- Congratulations to your and your sister! And as for the goddesses, each couple has a pair. Hermione had a Gaia, and Snape has a Gaia. Ron still has a goddess, so does Melanie, and Harry, Millicent, Lisa, Terry and Neville. And your right about Kendra's wards n stuff. I forgot to write it in, but I expect the door was warded. No pureblooded wizard would ever guess of someone finding her through an air vent.

Starlight Soul- Yay! Thank for your review. Interesting your should mention Minerva and Remus, since they sit with him during the review of Hermione's day.

Gina- Finally! Here you go.

That one chic- And I finally got around to the lemons, though I did have to cut a few lines that made me sweat too much for Thank you for your review. Hope you like this chapter as much as the last!

Fiona McKinnon- Yes ma'am.

DemonSorceress- Thank you and thank you for the blessings.

SweetSouthernBelle517- Thank you for the high praise. You keep me going. (Type, type…)

Wytil- Okay, Dumbledore did know Krum was a DE, and he is an Order member, though secretly. Dumbledore doesn't want Hermione to tell anyone because Krum's membership in DE and in the Order is very well hidden. Thank for your feedback! Hope you like the next chapter.

ahiwai- Thank you, I'm glad you like it! I can't wait to get our couple back together if Severus survives the big faceoff with V.

Ladyshoes- Thank you tons! The scene in the pentacle was the first plot bunny. Then I had to back way up and write it.

Jenn- Thank you Jenn! (Blushes furiously). I enjoyed writing it, and can't wiat to finish the fic. I promise this is not the end of the lemonade.

Heather- Still having problems with formatting for the chapters on ashwinder. Ugh. Oh my God, to duplicate it. Geez that's a lot of trees. I had no idea, it would ever be this long.

cayla22- Thank you for your review, and for your patience. I hope you find this chapter worth the wait.

Lillian-is-fickle- Thank you! Hope you kept reading!

Tycho- Thank you fro the review and thank you for your patience!

Amsev- Thank you! I tried hard to write good lemons after such a long wait. I've read so many good ones, it's a tall order. Hope you like the next chapter.

Shauna- Yay! I'm Dumbledore's biggest fan, but I don't think he's omnipotent. He just was appointed that status (like Harry, nice parallel when he defeated the big V when he was a baby). Dumbledore like Harry is a powerful wizard but just a regular man. Notice how a lot of them think him a bit crazy (like the Daily Prophet reports of Harry the summer after his fourth year). Pawn to Queen and Roman Holiday… you flatter me!

Kat77- Oh my gosh, don't ditch your boyfriend too much. I had to set limits on my fanfic reading so I could spend more time with my husband.

onesnowyowl- Thank you very much. I say if you've got it, flaunt it. I'm glad you have bog hair. I have big hips. They used to make me pretty self conscious, but my husband loves them! Girl power!

Wackoramaco87- Nah, you Capricorns aren't that bad at all! Thank you for your cheering. More between Hermione and Severus soon, I promise. One more chapter and a epilogue.

AtheneSaile- They will! Of course, I wouldn't leave you hanging.

Poetrychik- Glad not to disappoint! Hope you aren't upset at the lack of lemons in this chapter. More later!

Rose- Thank you so much for your review, I hope you review more often though. They are very helpful to writers, criticism included. Thank you for you feedback and I hope you enjoyed the next chapter.

artemisgirl- We will find a way, I assure you. wink

Nightqueen- Thank you fro your eloquent review. You keep me going! Hope you like the next chapter! Not much farther to go….

June Williams- I swear I will send you one when it's done. Don't quite know how to work n a proposal, this isn't a Marriage Law Challenge. And there have been a million and one ways I've gotten revenge on Lucius. For example, Lucius comes up to the school and all of the SOS lock him in a room protected by goddesses, Hermione and Pansy go get Melanie from the infirmary to get her to heal by caning him as he had her. Cruel. Brutal. Couldn't write it. Wasn't plausible. I may still work Lucius in before I post or in the next chapter. It may not be punishment per se, but it will be humiliating.

Lately on the ride to work I've been proofreading or listening to music. I've found my creative process is better if I'm at home. On my lunch hour, I write more tamely because as a social worker I'm a bit more restrained in my thinking. Can't write when my heart and mind aren't free.

Rosmerta- Snape is does so dumbfounded that her feelings are real, he can't say anything snarky in his own defense. I love it. Thanks for your review.

jean jelly bean- Do I have kids? I could cry. Just found out I am pregnant two days ago! Yippee! I have loved writing the story and can't wait to write the next chapter and finish it.

missing the cat- Thank you, congrats on the new baby! Thank you for your review!

Beky- Not stopping the story! Hope you like the next chapter!

Miz- Poor Snape. Gotta love him. Dumbledore struggles with his own opinions. He loves Hermione like a daughter I'm sure. He saw her over eagerness as she wanted to use the timeturner her third year to take more classes. I'm sure he sees her as a mature young witch, but picturing her with a man like Severus probably threw him for a loop. Minerva will talk some sense into him.

Sam- Thank you so much for your review. I'm glad it was worth the wait. Here is another long chapter for you and the next I hope will follow shortly. As for the Burden of Sight, I'm finding it difficult to write the war and will likely pick it up after Christmas due to other obligations. More soon! Enjoy!

Anna York- Thank you, I'm so glad. Still working on it. I've had a lot of help from betas and especially advice from Keket Amunet and Shabopo.

archangel- Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Ak-Siren- Thanks. I can't imagine developing this into an original story because all of the characters would have to be so different. I'm glad I introduced some religious components, it made for some interesting developments and banter among readers. I will be sad when it ends too, but like Hermione and her NEWTS I will have an odd thrill of completion.

racheldiego- Thank you for sticking with me through the fic! I hope the last chapter lives up to your expectations!

Syco Callie—Haha LOL. Ah poor, Hermione. Love makes people blind. We need things spelled out for us. Thank you for noticing the subtleties of Krum's actions. They were intentional. Snape is much better as a spy. Snape asked pressing questions before he gave Veritaserum and then danced around the subject so he could deduce what he could while trying to figure a way to get her out.

Steph2bwld- Oh my god, maybe you should e-mail it to me in a single file… he hee! I swear I was kidding, I will give you happy ending. Make Severus beg? Severus does not beg. That would wreck me emotionally. I can't imagine Snape ever having to be in a pleading position again after serving the Dark Lord. But for once, he will be seeking her out… that's all I'm saying. You're pretty good at anticipating what Snape would say to Dumbledore. I don't think he'd ever tell him to shove off, but he does practically tell him to stop lecturing him. Thank you for your review and enthusiasm!

Stellarsnape- Thank you! And the loose ends are taking sooo long to wrap up. Ah well, one more chapter to help that happen.

XxPhenixX- Thank you once again for all of your help with the Latin. I'm still planning to go through the fic again and re-edit and reload. Lucius is such a slime, I love repelling him. Thanks for the feedback on Minerva and Albus, I like them both too. Minerva strikes me as someone who can keep him in line. Yes, of course we will see more of Harry and Ron. They are Hermione's family as much as anyone. The tattoo is a blue pentacle. What a last laugh for the spell. Thank you for liking the singing and bartending. I know it's kinda cheesy, but I like it.

MxSRose- Thank you for your review. I'm glad the last chapter was worth the wait! Here is a little more angst. More soon, almost done now!

HazyDayClearNight- Lucius has such a high creep factor so me. He's like a stranger in a deserted alleyway that you're afraid to pass. Thank you for the props. Here's the next installment!

Pandora Nervosa- Snape is in denial because he's done so much wrong he feels he can not possibly repay for his past transgressions. Everything in life has been denied him in childhood, that's why he was so jealous of James. Ah and as for everyone's reaction, you only get a few. Hope Harry's is what you're looking for.

Maria- Thank you! Will it be a musical?

Otakuannie- I hope there is a Danny in your life. I was always attracted to people like him. Good luck with school!

SimplyScribbling- Thank you for acknowledging that. It would cheapen the work to just throw them together at the end in a very implausible way. I hope you enjoy the morning after. Both are hurting, and can bear to create another opportunity for a painful parting or rejection. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing throughout the fic, One more chapter until our story is concluded!

Kylara- Thank you for your review, I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I'll be cautious with the lemons and will hopefully post the rest on ashwinder once I figure out the formatting.

Sognatrice- "She's going to bloody well get herself murdered to death." That was supposed to be a joke. Like when Dan Ackroyd said "They'll give us one hundred years in the electric chair…" in Sneakers. Ha. L Maybe it wasn't that funny. Thanks for your review!

Athea Grey- You are dead on at that. Hermione's had time to process her feelings and Snape's just getting started. I like Ron's character. There's so much more to him. Let's write some more and clear this mess up shall we?

Maria- Thank you, I'm glad your liked our Sister!

Cinnamon- Thank you so much for your review and you're right about Severus. He would rather be tortured than be vulnerable. I think he's been rejected quite a bit in his life. People learn to stop reaching out when they've been hurt, like when he reaches for his wand and gets burned by the goddess. I have to give total credit for the dropping of the glass and the leftover shards to Keket Amunet (genius!). I love all of Rowling's characters. They are each wonderful in their own right. She develops them just right and then somehow, they become our friends and family. Draco's growing up, but still not trustworthy enough yet. He is still choosing. It will be a huge risk indeed if Dumbledore decides to extend and invite into the Order after he graduates. No more independent study for Hermione, and what now indeed! More soon!

Ezmerelda - Thank you for your review, And alas, I cannot post at ashwinder because I have lost the way to format my Microsoft Word to be uploadable. Thank you for sticking with me through this whole thing! It means a lot.

Min Hee- Aww. I'm sorry. I hope you get your man/woman… desire. Soon. Thanks for the complement Slytherins do rock, unfortunately I was always too prim and proper to be placed in that house. More soon! Thanks for your review!

Severesa- Thank you I agree. Only a little more to go! Thanks for R&R.

heartnut- Wow, not explicit? Thanks. Hey to you and your dad! Hey and if your dad writes a review, do you think he could label it 'heartnut's dad'? Grin. Thank you thank you! Hope you read the first review above, there is a teaser for the next chapter in there! No pressure, just very busy! Thank you for hanging on!

wood-n-snape- Thank you so much for your review! I try to keep you captivated, though I hope you won't be disappointed with so many people not knowing about Seversu and Hermione. Perhaps more will find out. When you say you laughed and cried, that makes me so happy! If you can experience that rabge of emotion when reading, then that means I did a good job! More soon!

Dragonmaster Kurai- Thank you, and it is ending soon. One more chapter. Thank you for reading!

Saturngurl123- Thank you for reading. Our couple is parted again…. Ah we will have to wiat until next time.

Zephyre- Thank you for joining in. I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thanks for the review.