Through The Times Of War Chapter 2, a harry potter fanfic

-o-o-o-o-o-

CHAPTER 2

OF SECRETS, STRANGE THOUGHTS AND TIMES OF WAR

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hermione?"

"No, Harry, I am not going to help you with that essay! Honestly, how will you ever manage your N.E.W.T.s if you go on in this manner?"

"It's not about the essay."

"Oh." Hermione looked up from her Defence Against Dark Creatures text. She was a bit perturbed at finding lines of worry marring Harry's brow.

"Well?"

"Okay, I don't know how to go about this…"

"What is it about – or maybe, who?"

Harry stared hard at the elegant blue feather quill in Hermione's hand.

"Draco."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "That will be Malfoy's first name, right?"

"Yes."

"And… what about…Draco?"

Harry sighed and finally meeting her eyes said, "You will not – no matter what – tell this to Ron, okay?"

"Harry…"

"Okay?"

"Uh…right."

"Right. Next, you will not tell this to anybody else either."

"Where is this leading to, Harry?"

"Okay?"

"Yes, I agree, but…"

"It's about… the Order," said Harry, his voice lowered to barely a whisper.

Hermione nodded, shooting around a cautious look. There was no one near their table. It was Friday night – and the day before Valentine's Day.

She was startled to find that Harry had pulled out his wand. "Harry, what…"

She didn't quite catch the quickly mumbled words, but she could see that he had put on the Privacy Charm – the best against eavesdroppers – visible or invisible.

"There is a traitor in the Order."

Hermione had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. Oh Merlin! A traitor in the only truly able association against Voldemort!

"But how do you know, Harry?"

"I am a member of the Order, Hermione. I have been one ever since my sixteenth birthday."

This caused Hermione's eyebrows to go up further – if that was possible. "You never told… well, I perceive you were sworn to secrecy?"

"Yeah. But that is only one part of it."

"But then… how come you are telling this to me? And what was that about not telling Ron? And… Draco, Harry?"

"One thing at a time. First, why I am telling this to you is that because I want you to help me keep an eye over Ron… let me finish before you speak, Hermione! Okay, second, well, you did observe that Ron has been very closed up this year… I know that doesn't mean that he is a traitor, but a Weasley is a traitor and we know it."

"Snape?" shot Hermione, narrowing her eyes.

Harry nodded. "He saw someone with red hair who was being addressed as "Weasley" during a Dark Revel. I have no idea about how he gets to know this stuff although he is the most reliable among all – that is what Dumbledore says."

"Okay, well… so what about my third question, Draco?"

"Would you stop that if I start calling him Malfoy?" asked Harry dryly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You've got to admit it is strange hearing his first name from your mouth, Harry."

"Okay. Draco. Well, he might soon become a member of the Order. That is it. Don't ask me anything. I promised him I won't spill out his secrets."

"You are doing that already."

"This is not a secret. Dumbledore knows it too."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. Of course Dumbledore knew it!

There was a long silence between them. Hermione was going over all that Harry had told her.

Suddenly Harry said, "I think Snape is wrong – he has to be!"

Hermione flinched at the vehemence in his voice.

"Harry…"

"I mean Weasley! They are the best people in this world! Well, everyone except Percy…"

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other.

"You think so?" asked Harry quietly.

Hermione shook her head. "He is rather like Mr. Crouch, Senior, I think. Not necessarily evil."

"Something like Umbridge? Not a Death-Eater, but an enemy nonetheless."

"Well… er… maybe."

"Not necessarily the Death-Eater type? Well, perhaps not…"

"There has to be some family traits in him, hasn't there?"

Harry shrugged. "Snape has to be wrong, you know. Or maybe he is doing this on purpose."

"Really, Harry Potter!"

"I mean it is Snape who says so. What if he himself is the traitor and wants to disrupt our work and…"

Hermione interrupted him. "Harry, he risks his life out there doing Merlin knows what and you are suspecting him!"

"How do we know what he does out there?"

Harry's hatred of Snape had not lessened a bit but only grown since Sirius' death.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that he can be the traitor, Harry. If Dumbledore believes him…"

"Dumbledore can be wrong," said Harry, temper rising. He got up and removed the Privacy Charm.

"Thanks for listening, Hermione. I sort of did want to get it off me…"

Hermione patted his hand understandingly.

"And Ron…"

She nodded slightly.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"You really didn't know that the Dark Lord is back?"

Cain glared at the Potions Master. "I was…"

"Whatever," interrupted Snape.

There was a short silence between them.

"There was a Death-Eater meeting yesterday."

"You didn't go, I suppose?"

"I didn't know Dumbledore had… taken measures to ensure that I won't go."

"Good for you."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"No," answered Cain with a wry smile. In a more serious tone, he added, "I have to chaperone the kids in Hogsmeade tomorrow."

Snape stood up as if he had received a shock. "By Merlin!"

"What is it, Severus?"

"Hogsmeade – tomorrow – Death-Eater meeting yesterday! Putting two and two together, I would say that there was a connection between this."

Cain considered this. "While it is possible, it might be a coincidence."

"It won't hurt to take precautions," hissed Snape angrily. "Especially with that dunderhead Potter!"

"Potter is not a dunderhead, and no, it won't hurt to take precautions. I will go and talk to Dumbledore right now."

"I am coming, too."

-o-o-o-o-o-

III

'This is ridiculous,' thought Hermione, as she glared at the Arithmancy problem she had been working on for the last few minutes – which was indeed saying something because, according to her standards, it was definitely a simple problem.

Her mind had been revolving around what Harry had told her. Much as she believed that it wasn't Ron or any other Weasley, she found that she could, in no case blame the Potions Master. Hadn't she seen his desperation to fight the Dark with her own eyes? Well, it might be that it was something more on personal grounds for him, but still. Somehow, she could not believe that he would be wrong on purpose.

She put down her school books and decided that she could read something light for now. Something she won't feel stupid at if she didn't pay attention. But what? She had already read all the novels she had brought from home.

Sighing, she got up and decided to go out for a walk. There was still some time left before the curfew – better put that to good use. Maybe the cold February air would help her clear her track of thoughts.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione wondered who Cain was to Snape. Snape had recognized him and by the first looks didn't really like him. But with passage of time, Hermione had observed that there was a formal amicability between the two men like acquaintances who cared a bit more than just not wanting the other to die. Thinking, Hermione sat down near the lake and cast a Warming Charm around herself.

As there was chill in the air and snow hadn't fully melted, everything was still and quiet. The students mostly didn't venture out in the cold. Even the Squid had decided to rest in the warmer waters nearer to the bottom of the lake. Somehow, in such peaceful settings, it seemed impossible to think of the turmoil in the world beyond the walls of Hogwarts. It was so safe and comfortable here. It seemed as if there was no reason to fear anything.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione was startled out of her reveries by the voice of the feared Potions Master. She hurriedly scrambled up and faced him. "Good evening, sir."

He inclined his head almost imperceptibly. "May I enquire what you are doing here at this time of night, Miss Granger?"

"I was…" Hermione stopped. What could she possibly say?

"Breaking school rules, which cannot go unpunished; now can it, Miss Granger?"

Hermione didn't reply. One grows used even to hatred, I guess, she thought. Though I wish he didn't hate me so.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew, Miss Granger. Now follow me."

Lucky I made it out without a detention, she thought, scowling slightly at the Potions Master's back. It wasn't as if she didn't know that he was on their side. She had known since the end of the fourth year – since the beginning, as she often thought of it. However, she was just too well aware that it was far from the beginning. It had begun more than fifty years ago when a certain arrogant Muggle Riddle had left his lover with an unborn child – his child – just because she was a witch. Oh Merlin! If only he had known then what that would have culminated into.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus didn't quite understand the need for telling Miss Granger what they feared on the afternoon of the morrow. He admitted (to none but himself and that too, quite deep down) that Miss Granger was quite an exceptional witch. But that did not mean that she would be able to fight Death-Eaters. Not without getting someone killed. Gryffindors had the tendency to make a mess out of the simplest solutions, especially if they were aware of everything beforehand.

However, here he was, much against his wishes and by Dumbledore's orders, telling the bushy-haired Gryffindor the danger that hung over the head of the students tomorrow.

At the end of his speech, Miss Granger launched, as per his expectations, into a questionnaire.

"But, sir, won't it just be easier to cancel the trip to the village?"

Sensible. But hadn't the girl heard of the old wizard saying, "The easier way is usually the more difficult one."

"We could do that, Miss Granger. We could do a lot of other things for that matter. But running away isn't always the solution. We need a confrontation to measure the height of their power. We need an assessment of the enemy, you could say. The Dark Lord has hitherto refrained from a direct attack so we are not fully aware of the volume of… his supporters."

How he did not use the word "Death-Eaters", did not escape Hermione.

The girl nodded. He was glad that he didn't have to explain it deeper. Though this was now his life, he still didn't like it. Treachery, spying, hatred, death, murder, rape, lies, mutilation, torture, prejudices, old customs born of hate, rituals, darkness… unconquerable darkness… He still hated it though he would rather be dead than not follow it to the end. It was his nemesis and his salvation.

"There will be the Aurors, there?"

"No, we don't want anyone in the Ministry to get a wind of this. There are many Death-Eaters in the Ministry – Lucius Malfoy for one."

"Only Order members?"

"Wearing glamour charms."

"Harry would know about it, won't he?"

"Considering he is the target, Miss Granger, I would think that is most reasonable. Although I expect you to not to tell this to anybody."

"I won't," said Hermione, indignant that he would suspect her of letting out secrets.

"And anyone would include Mr. Weasley."

Hermione sighed. She wished they won't suspect Ron. It was Ron, for Merlin's sake! How could he be a Death-Eater?

"Yes, sir, I know."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You know – what?"

Hermione wondered if Harry had told her of his own accord or by permission from Dumbledore. She didn't want him getting into trouble just because he trusted her and wanted comfort from a friend.

"That I ought to maintain secrecy, not tell Ron and all," she said, avoiding his eyes.

Snape narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Hermione clasped her hands tightly, looking down.

He got up from his chair and came round to her side of the table. "I think, Miss Granger, that you know more than that. I think you know more than you ought to. Might I enquire how?"

"I don't quite know what you mean, Professor," she said stiffly, knowing that he was standing right behind her chair. It made lying to him easier, though. One could never look into his eyes and lie. It just didn't seem possible. Or maybe it was just her…

Snape put his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned forward until his face was level with Hermione's.

"You know, Miss Granger, I have been a spy for so long that it is now my second nature to differentiate lies from truth. So better answer my question."

Hermione shivered involuntarily feeling his breath on her neck. She was staring intently at her hands, but she could feel his eyes on her face, trying to read her emotions. His proximity unsettled her. She wondered if he could hear her heart beat.

Severus' office then was just lighted by three candles in the candlestick on the table. It was positioned such that it illuminated Miss Granger's face. Her brown eyes seemed so liquid that for some moments he was entranced by them. It felt as if he had never seen such beautiful eyes, though there was nothing different about them and they were pretty ordinary eyes. His eyes travelled down the her brown curls, nestling what light they could get in that almost dark room, he vaguely thought that he had never seen that golden chain around her neck before. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed… he shut his eyes tight for a moment.

He had meant to intimidate her… frighten her into saying what he suspected she knew but she ought not to have known… But things were going a bit wrong here. He was being ensnared by her innocent, guileless, virginal charms.

Hermione sat there like a statue. It seemed as if she had lost all her power of reasoning, thinking and questioning for a moment. It was so quiet… so surreal… as if she was in the middle of a queer dream. She had those once in a while. But never had the Potions Master so strongly featured in them. In his present stance, he seemed so threatening… so powerful… as if he could easily crush her… she had to tell him the truth or he would so harm her…

Stop that! She told herself angrily, he is not going to do anything of the kind. He is just scaring you. You're not scared of him. You are a Gryffindor!

She got up abruptly, not looking at him.

Snape was momentarily startled, but he was glad to be brought out of the stupor her propinquity had placed him into. He, too, straightened up.

"I think I should go back to my dormitory, sir," she said hurriedly, releasing the breath she didn't knew she had been holding.

"This will be reported to the Headmaster, Miss Granger," said Snape, his voice back to the low and dangerous, "you are in possession of classified information of the Order. Something you are not supposed to know at all."

"I don't know what you are talking about," said Hermione, staring at the floor, "Goodnight, sir."

And before he could say a word, she ran out of his office and hurried towards her dormitory, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the corridor.

"Goodnight, indeed, Miss Granger! You'll see it won't turn out into anything good, though," whispered Snape, more to himself and the dungeon walls than to anyone else.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione couldn't sleep that night. Not out of fear for she was no longer as scared of the Death-Eaters as she was a year ago. She had almost grown used to this – accepted it like a normal way of life, well, for now, at least.

Her sleeplessness was the result of worry – worry about Harry, Ron, Ginny and all the other students whose lives would be exposed to danger tomorrow. It had to be done and she understood why. But still… it scared her so!

She brought up her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. As she rested her chin on her interwoven fingers, her unruly curls brushed against her hands. She shivered slightly and she knew it was not from the cold for she had put Heating Charms all around her bed. It was the feel of his breath on her neck.

It was so odd. She wondered why she was so affected by it. It wasn't something extraordinary or anything.

Sitting in the darkness of her dorm, with nothing but the moonlight to break through the blanket of darkness, Hermione felt her mind wander back to the Potions Master. It was not a new situation. Ever since she had discovered the gravity of Severus Snape's work, she had spent many a nights in thinking about him.

He was a man who had affected her much throughout her school-life. Her amazing performance in Potions was mainly due to him. She had no particular passion for Potions, not anymore than she had for all her studies. However, it was the deep desire to please the biased Potions Master that made her work the hardest and best for Potions. But he had not responded. He had not acknowledged her hard work. He had done nothing to show his appreciation, for Hermione knew that he appreciated her. It was just an impulsive feeling, but it was there.

But this year had not gone so well. Maybe teachers were just tired of praising her. Maybe they thought that she didn't need any more encouragement or praise. Whatever the case, this year none of the teachers had given her the "special" compliment, which they usually did until this year. It wasn't something anybody but her had noticed. She reasoned that she already did do quite well in her studies, they felt no need to show that they appreciated it.

It unsettled her. She mostly worked for her grades. More than the desire of gaining knowledge was the desire to excel, the desire to show that she was an exceptional witch despite her birth. She was not ashamed of who she was. She respected and loved her parents – Muggles or not wasn't a fact she bothered about.

And in all this turmoil, her work hadn't been up to the mark. That was a calamity! Worse than a casualty! Hermione had been distraught over it (Harry and Ron had put it down to "that time of the month"). And in all this chaos, Hermione realized that Professor Snape was same as ever. Instead of disheartening her, this was an anchor to her. Someone was still the same old person she knew, someone to rely on to be the same even on the doomsday.

But now it wasn't the same. Not after she had seen him so weak and injured that night. Not after she had known how truly tough his life was. There was something different about her feelings towards the Potions Master. He had made her realize her things. Things like the grades weren't the most important things in the world. Things like good grades won't help her survive in this dark world. Things like how much more there was to the world than her own little shell.

And for that she was grateful to him. She treated him with much more respect. She did not resent him for his over-strict censure of her essays. She could see beyond the partial teacher to the man who was dying day by day of his own will.

Tonight, in the quiet of his office, another aspect of the mysterious Potions Master had been revealed to her. His power – his power of intimidation. She wondered if he interrogated the captives of the Order. He would certainly be very successful if he did.

Parvati stirred murmuring something in the bed next to hers. It brought Hermione back to the reality, out of the sanctuary of her thoughts. Breathing deeply, Hermione stretched out her legs. Yawning and stretching her arms, she lay down to catch a few hours' sleep. It won't do to be weary and sleepy if she were to face the Death-Eaters tomorrow.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Severus Snape was no better. It wasn't often that his work and thoughts related to the same allowed him the luxury of delicious sleep. Tonight was no better. However, the reason tonight was a different. It was a reason he had paid no special attention to. Not until some days ago when he had gone over hundred and one ways to kill Hermione Granger, partly to amuse himself, and partly because he couldn't sleep due to the pain.

Presently, he was not planning to kill Hermione Granger for she had done no great harm to him. No, he decided, what she had done was no great harm, it was a very, very great harm. She had made him see her as a woman.

Oh Merlin! What was he thinking? She was a Gryffindor! She was a know-it-all! She was a Muggle-born! She was a load of other things. One of them was that she was his student.

Another part of his mind pointed out that it was his own self that had made him observe in more than impersonal manner, her eyes, her curls, her breasts…

Snape sat up, rubbing his head. It was true that he had led a life of celibacy for the past fifteen years. But it was by choice. Abstinence from indulging desires, in his opinion, was the best form of penance for past sins. But what was it culminating into? Was he so perverted as to see his students in a wrong way? Surely, it wasn't as if needed to get laid. No, Severus Snape was above such petty desires. His life had more purpose than fooling around with one-night stands. He had a job to do, spying duties and promises to keep and in fulfilment of it all, he knew that he was playing a major role in saving the world from ultimate doom.

Amidst this, he did not have time for… well, being a dirty old man for that was exactly how he felt right now. Had he no sense? The girl was sixteen! A minor still! No, he decided, he had better things to – something which won't lower his self-esteem. Severus Snape had, as yet, not turned immoral concerning sexual principles and he wasn't about to do that now or ever.

By Merlin! The girl wasn't even a beauty!

-o-o-o-o-o-

"They are planning to attack Hogsmeade tomorrow," said Regulus, taking off his cloak.

Arthinus was lying down on the couch, one leg draped over its back. Without opening his eyes, he said, "Indeed? Well, I think that the standards have fallen. They are attacking children. Next thing you know they will be going for new-born babes."

"No, the Dark Lord has done that already and failed," muttered Regulus, moving towards the liquor cabinet.

Arthinus laughed mirthlessly. "On whose side are we, Regulus?"

"Don't ask me. I gave up ages and ages ago. I am still scared to go back to the Dark Lord."

"Not that he would accept you."

"That is the reason, too. Whiskey or brandy?"

"I am feeling sick tonight. I don't want anything to drink."

Regulus shrugged and sat down on the chair near the fireplace.

"I think I will pay my dear brother a visit this summer."

"You'll be termed a traitor, too."

"Why should they know where I am?"

Regulus shrugged. "These things have a queer way of going about. Things always go wrong!"

Arthinus snorted. "Aren't you going to help make them better?"

"Not in anything that has me risking my life. I didn't know you were alive. I saw no reason to attempt a return to the Dark Lord. It was better when I thought that you, too, were dead. I was at least living peacefully."

"Would you have returned to the Dark Lord if you had thought that I was alive?"

"No," said Regulus, swirling his drink in his glass. "Somehow, I don't want to go back."

"If they find out you are alive, you know you are as good as dead, don't you?"

"Unless you tell them."

"True."

There was silence for a while. "How did you break through my charm?"

"Easy. I knew that you hadn't died."

"How?"

"Bartemius would have seen to it that you had a proper funeral, you know. I still don't understand why he liked you. In any case, he was truly unaffected by your 'death'. It had to mean that he believed you were alive."

"You don't know for sure? Didn't he ever tell you?" asked Regulus, turning to face him.

Arthinus didn't reply.

"Why not?"

"I wish I knew why not."

Regulus flinched at the vehemence in Arthinus' voice. However, he went on, "He might not have trusted you at that point."

Arthinus sat up in a swift motion and glared at Regulus. "Oh, indeed! And whatever makes you think so?"

"It was just a feeling," Regulus downed the drink in a single gulp.

"You're stupid!" hissed Arthinus angrily. "There is no reason why he shouldn't have trusted me! You are mad!"

Regulus, deciding that he didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Arthinus' strange dark curses, wisely kept his mouth shut.

Arthinus stared at him angrily for a while, and then settled back on the couch.

Could there possibly be any truth in Regulus' comments? There had been something different about Bartemius during his last months here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He had overlooked the instinct then, for he had trusted Bartemius then more than anything else in this world.

Then there had been the night when Bartemius had told him that Aurors were after him – Moody, in particular. Not that Arthinus was scared of Moody, but he didn't want to take risks. He had followed Bartemius' advice and had gone out of the country. Only when he was safely hidden in a corner of Nigeria, had he come to know through different sources that it was not him Moody was searching, it was Bartemius.

And he had been caught along with Regulus' cousin, her husband and his brother. They had not been spared. Life time in Azkaban…

Arthinus knew it was hopeless to try and rescue him. Azkaban was something he really dreaded. He hated Dementors with his heart and soul. So instead, he had started tracking down the rumours about Dark Lord's whereabouts.

When he found that he was back in England, he had tried going back but old… memories had overpowered him… a three-year period of his life he had forgotten all about, except in his darkest nightmares.

When his Dark Mark had burnt once again, he had not returned. He knew that he was, like Regulus, believed to be dead. What difference would it make?

To him, it did, as soon as he knew that Regulus was alive. Though he had done a good job at hiding his handwriting, Arthinus was a genius at that sort of thing. If his half-brother was the best Potions Master in whole Europe, he was the best Charms Master in Europe.

And then Dark Lord had convinced Dementors to join Dark Side. Well, that almost decided it – he was not going back. He was damned terrified of Dementors – a fear bordering on phobia.

No, he decided, he was not going back to the Dark Lord.

He didn't quite know what he would do right now. Maybe go to see the attack tomorrow? Hmmm… come to think of it, there were a few curses he would love to try on Lucius.

He heard Regulus break his glass and stagger to his bed.

Well, at least he had some idea about what he was going to do.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry sat down on the window-sill looking out at the night scene. If he wasn't so worried about tomorrow, he would have said that it was romantic. As it was, he wasn't thinking about anything even remotely like it.

He had never been happy when he had lived with the Dursleys. He had hated Dudley with a great intensity and had often wished to be taken away from there. And now that his wish had been fulfilled, he wasn't quite sure if he liked it. It was true that his life was much, much better than before. Plus, he had gained a few things in life. But he had lost yet more.

One of such losses was Sirius. He still felt, and especially at nights, quite deeply the void that had been created in his life since Sirius' death. It was somewhat eerie how every other thing seemed to remind him of Sirius.

He had learnt from Remus that Sirius had changed the "Black Will" just a week before his death. He had made Harry his heir. His decision had been quite impulsive. Harry wondered if Sirius had had any forewarnings about his fate. It was rather "Trelawney-sounding", but it was Trelawney who had shown him his horrible fate. Why him?

Again and again he had asked the question – why him? What was so special about him? Why had he to be the boy in the Prophecy? Why not Ron or Neville or Dean or Seamus? Heck, why couldn't it be Draco Malfoy? He won't have minded that even. But why him? There had been nothing exceptional about his parents, had there?

Well, nothing at least which he knew of. He was quite sure Mrs. Weasley loved Ron as much as his mother had loved him.

And yet, it was him, Harry Potter, who had been chosen, even before his birth, to bear such a great burden as was carried very rarely even by much older shoulders.

There had to be a reason. Yes, there had to be a reason.

Magic… it was indeed a very deep mystery.

He turned slightly and looked at Ron – his first true friend. His best friend…

And now such was his position that he had to eye even him with suspicion.

He hated this – and yet he realized the bitter truth, much must be sacrificed during the times of war.

Sirius! How I wish you were here to help me! I need you, Sirius, I need you now! Please, please come back. You were always there for me, weren't you? So why not now? Please, come back, Sirius! Please come back…

-o-o-o-o-o-

VII

Wrapped up in his strange thoughts, Severus did not know when he had fallen asleep. It was a troubled sleep, filled with nightmares he did not remember. However, something had so greatly troubled him that he woke up with a start.

His bedroom was still immersed in darkness, so he knew that he had not slept for long. He touched his forehead. It was clammy with sweat.

Still breathing hard, Severus reached for his wand by his bedside and flicked it to light the candle.

Considering nothing was amiss in his room, it had to be his nightmare which had woken him up. However, he couldn't remember even the slightest detail about it. Although the feeling or whatever it was that had woken him up was pretty strong.

He was still pretty disconcerted.

A walk around the castle and points off any little dunderhead he came across was what he required. First Granger, then this. He had a nagging suspicion that he would go mad much before Dumbledore would cross the line.

-o-o-o-o-o-

He was feeling slightly better – but only slightly. There was this so irritating curiosity to find out what had woken him up. But he was as far from finding the answer as ever.

He had spent some time outside and the chill air had somewhat cleared his head. But now he was shivering. Better go in before he died of the chill.

To his disappointment, there had been no students up and about in the night. It was as if all were aware of the danger that hung above them and wanted to be deep in the sanctuary of their dormitories – safe and blissfully unaware in their sleep.

A wandering thought unsettled his newly-gained calmness – what if Voldemort attacked Hogwarts when everyone was asleep – like now?

It was a very disturbing thought and since he knew that he needed his wits about him, Severus pushed it down for contemplation later.

As he turned down the corridor leading down the dungeons, he saw a student out of bed and standing near the last window there. Seeing that the Slytherin Common-Room was so near, he sighed. He really didn't want to take points off his house, but if it was a Death-Eater whom he knew to be such, he would.

-o-o-o-o-o-

No such luck…

"Draco?"

"Professor Snape!" the boy was startled.

"What are you doing out of bed at this time of night?"

"I – I… I couldn't sleep. It… all… is worrying me."

Yes, he might confront his father tomorrow. "Come down with me."

Draco followed him wordlessly. Sometimes it made him so unsure and yet at other times he liked it that the boy looked upon him with so much faith.

Taking out the bluish-green vial of potion from his personal stock, he handed it to him.

"Here."

The boy drank it without question. As he finished the last drop, the lines of tension marring his smooth, perfect brow, straightened.

"The Peace Potion," he said.

"A relatively light one. But don't depend on it always. It is addictive."

Draco nodded. "Thank-you, sir."

Severus inclined his head and then said softly, in an almost fatherly manner, "Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Professor."

-o-o-o-o-o-

VIII

As the first rays of the sun fell on her face, Hermione sighed and opened her eyes. As a rule, she was a heavy sleeper. But her sleep last night had been mixed with short periods of waking up and nightmares, and all in all, it hadn't been a very satisfying sleep. Therefore, she decided to get a good soak in the bath before she prepared for today.

It was long before curfew still, but she doubted anyone would be awake. And she was right, too. Even Filch seemed to be asleep.

She took off her clothes and stepped into the hot water. It felt so pleasant, so natural. Another anchor in this ever-changing world… how she was growing to love the normal, most ordinary activities of her life!

She mentally went over the list of hexes that would prove useful in the run-in with the Death-Eaters. She had learnt some really dreadful ones this summer and meant to put them to use. Some had been taught to her by Lupin in his spare time.

Lupin… he had seemed so different this summer. She put it down to Sirius' death. It had affected them all. But Remus Lupin had seemed so utterly devastated.

Oh no! He didn't normally show it. No, he was the same old trustworthy Lupin to all even now. But she could see that he had lost the brightness of his eye and his reassuring smiles were more forced than anything else.

However, because he cared so much for Harry, he did not show his grief. He had built a wall around him and but was so hollow from the inside.

Hermione was worried about him. She and Ginny had discussed him one night. At first, it surprised her that Ginny could get past his 'façade' of cheerfulness. But even though Ginny was youngest with six brothers and usually the most pampered and over-protected, she was quite mature. Now that she had gotten over her crush on Harry, she seemed so different! Hermione felt towards her as if she was a sister she had never had. It was a comforting thought. She wondered at those who didn't like their sisters. Being an only child, Hermione had always sought for more than just 'best friends' in Harry and Ron. They were like her brothers. And now, she was glad to have a sister.

Though, to come back to her original train of thought, she was also scared for Lupin. One never knew what people could do in desperation.

As she walked back to her dormitory, she prayed fervently that he be able to cope with Sirius' death.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the depths of the Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic, London…

A lone figure walked down the dark corridors in the early hours of the morning. It was heavily robed and hooded and it seemed impossible even to make out if it was male or female.

However, since the person had put on neither the Concealment Charm nor the Invisibility Charm, it could be surmised that whoever it was, he/she well knew that there were anti-Concealment and anti-Invisibility wards ever since the attack here almost a year ago.

And this also pointed to the fact that the person had no black intentions to proclaim.

The person finally reached the place where the confrontation between the members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Death-Eaters had taken place a year back. It was the place where one end of the room had the fateful Veil.

But soon, the person found that he was in the company of another. However, the newcomer was not hooded. And it could be clearly seen that it was a man – blonde and about forty years of age.

"You're back, then? Does it mean that you are ready to risk all for his sake alone?" asked the blonde man.

The nod which the hooded person gave was almost imperceptible.

"Well, good then. I will restart on it. But the formalities will take time."

Again just the nod.

"You really must love him to do this for him. Anyway, come back in a month or so. Just send me an owl two days before you do, though. To avoid all… complications, you understand?"

A nod of comprehension.

"Okay, let's go then. I am not supposed to be here until noon today."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The sun was up and shining brightly, though the weather was chilly. Hermione went down for breakfast with Harry and Ron. Harry put his arm around her reassuringly. Though they had exchanged no words, he could read her eyes.

"Who are you searching for, Ron?" asked Hermione, noticing that Ron was looking up and around every few minutes and was really not paying any attention to his meal.

"Ummm… no one really," he muttered, gobbling down his food and staring intently at his plate.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She turned questioningly to Harry.

He shrugged.

Hermione was glad that she was able to keep her appetite and her food inside her stomach even though she felt so nervous.

Finally, it was time to go out.

As they neared the Entrance Hall, Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder.

It was Professor Snape.

"It will do well if you keep your cool, Miss Granger. Be careful – and refrain from reckless display of Gryffindor foolhardiness." And seeing that Potter was staring incredulously at him and then at Hermione, he added, "You, too, Potter." Both were equal in his eyes, weren't they?

Who was he trying to convince? Inwardly, he rolled his eyes at himself.

She nodded. He was right. It won't do to be all flustered up in front of a myriad of Death-Eaters.

Taking a deep breath, she linked her arm with Harry's and went to face whatever was outside, waiting for them.

Professor Snape watched them with emotionless eyes. He fingered the Calming Potion in his robe-pocket.

No, it would only serve to make the girl weak in the long run. She needed to do his on her own.