A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm so glad you liked the last chapter, it's my favorite so far and it was actually the second chapter I wrote, (chapter six was written first and then I filled in the rest randomly...my brain is too disorganzed to write in chronological order!) Although now I'm starting to get a little nervous, apparently I have a lot to live up to. Here are two more chapters to read while I edit the others and work on getting to the ending I have already written.

Chapter Ten

Hermione decided that if she were to win any concessions from Severus then she would need more information. So she did what she did best, research. The library contained old yearbooks where she found basic statistics on him, but what she needed was practical information. She needed to talk to someone who knew him better than she did.

"Professor McGonagall, I have a question," she said timidly a week later. McGonagall looked up from her marking and waited for Hermione to continue.

"It's about Severus," she started.

"Hermione, I would advise you to speak to Molly Weasley about such matters," the older woman responded quickly, her face turning a shade of pink Hermione had never seen before.

"Oh no! Nothing like that," Hermione cried, her own face turning red. "I just need advice from someone who knows him."

"What kind of advice?"

Hermione explained how he had tried several methods of manipulating her.

"I'm finding it hard to stay one step ahead of him," she told her.

"Well, he is pretty strong willed. But perhaps if he thinks something is his idea he will be more apt to do it," McGonagall offered. Hermione mulled this over.

'Yes,' she thought, 'that just might work.' The rest of the day she spent distracted trying to come up with a plan.

"Perhaps you should go early," Professor McGonagall said finally after repeating a question three times with no reply.

"Oh, Professor I'm sorry," she cried chastised.

"I understand," the older woman told her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "being married is never easy and even more so I should think considering your husband." She smiled at Hermione and then shooed her from her office.

She returned to the dungeons that night ready to put her plan in action. Waiting until Severus was comfortably settled marking third year papers, she advanced.

"You know I really detest this color green," she said, watching him from the corner of her eyes. He didn't deign to answer.

"I was thinking we could redecorate in here." He looked up at this, the look on his face effectively communicating his opinion on the matter.

"Maybe red and gold," she continued, "or pink. I've always loved the color pink. And maybe some doilies."

"You most certainly will not put doilies anywhere," he sneered, before going back to his papers. She could tell she had irritated him by the increased scratching of his quill. Hermione felt sorry for the students whose papers he was grading at the moment, but she had to do what she had to do.

"Ok, so no doilies. But what about a change of color?" she asked.

"I refuse to live with Gryffindor colors," he said disdainfully, "or pink." She sighed loudly to show her frustration and then sat back quietly and waited.

She didn't have to wait long.

"Blue," he said shortly.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"We could change it to blue."

"Blue," she said, "it's a nice color. But what shade, do you think?"

"Nothing pastel. But perhaps a shade or two lighter than navy. I can talk to the house elves tomorrow about it."

"That sounds like a good idea," she assured him. She thought about insisting that one of them did it themselves instead of the house elves, but she decided against it. The battle was won and she didn't want to ruin it. She would insist that Dobby, who was paid for his work to do it though; she could offer him some new socks as payment for the extra work.

Her satisfaction with the situation diminished, however, as they went to bed.

"Don't think that I don't know what you did tonight," he said as he climbed into bed.

"What?" she asked trying to sound innocent and failing. She never was a very good liar.

"Suggesting pink doilies or Gryffindor colors so that I would be more likely to accept something less extreme…like blue," he said. She couldn't see his face in the dark but she knew that the scowl was there nonetheless.

"But it was your idea to change the color scheme of the rooms to blue," she protested.

"That's what you wanted me to think."

"Does this mean I'm stuck with Slytherin green?" she asked dejectedly.

"No," he replied, "but I know all your tricks. I am a master of manipulation—something you will do well to remember." He rolled over away from her, plumping his pillow and settling in.

"That just means I'm learning from the best," she said softly, not knowing if he heard her.

Hermione returned from class the next day to find their rooms a lovely shade of blue. With a contented sigh, she plopped down on the couch. After months of feeling like a stranger in her own home, she finally felt as though she could be comfortable now that the dark green was replaced with a calming blue. These were no longer his rooms but their rooms. It was purely symbolic but still it remained an important step.

Her introspections, however, were interrupted with the abrupt materialization of Harry's head in the fire.

"Hermione," he shouted in a panic.

"Yes, what it is?" she said startled by his sudden appearance.

"Ron, they've taken Ron!" he exclaimed. Her stomach dropped, her worst fears realized.

"Who?" she asked despite already knowing the answer. Harry was already in pieces but she was determined to remain calm.

"Death eaters…Malfoy, I think….and others too."

"What happened exactly Harry?" she asked.

"We were in Diagon Alley and they just apparated out of nowhere, grabbed him and apparated away. I don't know what to do. I tried to floo Albus but no one seems to know where to find him. And Lupin is away in Wales, and I sent Hedwig to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley but she hasn't come back yet. Hermione what do we do?" he said nearly hyperventilating. She knew that he was thinking of Sirius. He didn't want to repeat history, but neither could he sit and do nothing while his best friend was kidnapped.

"We need to go back to Diagon Alley. There is a spell that can trace where someone has apparated to. Once we figure out where they have taken him we can formulate a plan," she told him. "I'm coming through the floo and then we can go together." He nodded and then moved aside as she stepped into the fireplace.