Chapter 4

Back in the Habit

I glared across the table at Malfoy. "No," I snapped. "Absolutely not. Spies aren't of any use to us this time. The enemy doesn't seem to have any tactic, and to use Ron, of all people…he's too noticeable…"

"I'll agree with you there, Hermione," Lupin sighed tiredly, "but on the other hand, a spy would still be useful. Just not Ron."

"I could go," Tonks volunteered, with a sideways glance at Lupin.

"You most certainly will not," her husband snapped, for a moment looking quite like the werewolf he was. "You'll be risking two lives, love; save yourself for another time." She made a face at him, but when Remus's fingers spread across her stomach, she conceded defeat, and shrugged at me, as though to say, Well, I tried.

"I agree, Remus; it would be foolish to send Nymphadora when she carries another life," Kingsley Shacklebolt said in his deep voice. "There must be another."

I felt, suddenly, the feeling that one feels when you know you are being watched; sure enough, I turned, and Snape was looking at me, a queer sort of smirk on his lips. "It wouldn't be so hard to disguise Miss Granger," he suggested.

"Hermione?" Ron croaked, his face turning grave before my eyes, aging him five years at least.

Lupin looked deeply troubled. "Severus, she's still rather young. And we will need her around here; she's already proven useful in the scheming of plots and plans…"

I sat quietly, thinking, mulling over Snape's preposition in my mind. On one hand it was smart; I would be best at understanding the information, and I'd become rather good at Legilimency in the past few years; unless this new enemy was another who was excellent at Legilimency, like Voldemort had been – which I highly doubted – I would have very little trouble.

"Yes, Severus, she is rather young," Arthur Weasley said, a troubled frown creasing his brow. "It would really be terrible to lose…"

"Arthur," Tonks said quietly. "Let Hermione think for herself. I wasn't much older than her when I joined the Order, after all, and she's a great deal less clumsy – and more useful – than I was."

In turning to look at her, I caught Malfoy's eye. His haughty expression wasn't so flawless at the moment. I looked at Tonks and came to my decision. "I'll do it," I said, very softly.

Everyone managed to look relieved and worried at the same time; Ron's grip on my arm tightened just noticeably.

"Are you sure, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked anxiously.

I nodded again, more firmly this time. "Absolutely."

"We'll leave you with Severus, then," Lupin said; at his words everyone stood except for Snape and I. "Best of luck, Hermione." His wishes were echoed around the room, and slowly it emptied out.

Snape called to Malfoy as he approached the door, "No, Draco, you stay here; we'll have a use for you." Malfoy doubled back and joined us. The room was empty; Ron, the last one out, had closed the door behind him after a soft word of luck to me. I raised my eyes to look at Snape and Malfoy; the latter seemed unsure as to why he was there, but was maintaining his dignified aura. "Now, Miss Granger," Snape said, not looking at me. "Spying is not easy. There are always risks, the most dangerous one of which is the threat of being discovered." He finally looked at me. "We shall test your mind power first. Ready?"

I nodded, never taking my eyes from his. "Legilimens," he hissed, and suddenly I felt it, the ramming prod of breaking and entering, and I threw up my barriers, my safety, determined to keep him from my most delicate memories, and the darkest, the most painful.

We battled like this for some time. He never made entry. Finally, tight lipped, he gave a short nod of assent and the attack immediately stopped. "Mr. Malfoy," Snape addressed his former student. "You are more familiar with the Unforgivable Curses than I am. The Cruciatus Curse, if you please."

I glanced at Malfoy, thinking bitterly that he would rather enjoy this, but I received a shock when my eyes touched on his; the pale grey looked a little afraid, and his face had turned chalk-white. Snape, seeing Malfoy's hesitation, snapped, "Draco. Now."

He raised his wand and I braced myself; "Crucio!" he cried, and I buckled, my lips sealed together to keep from crying out, as the white-hot pain surged through me; I resisted with all my might the urge to whimper, to so much as gasp, even though my insides were surely being ripped apart…

The pain, rather abruptly, stopped. Malfoy was even whiter than before; the curse had sapped a great deal of his strength. He avoided my eyes when I managed, painfully, to straighten up. Snape, despite himself, looked the tiniest bit impressed. "Very well, Miss Granger, very well…Draco, the Imperious Curse."

He didn't hesitate this time, but as my mind was wiped blissfully blank, I caught the last of his trail of thoughts: Granger, forgive me…

Then came the first order: Bow.

Don't think so, said that tinny voice at the back of my head. I felt woozy, lightheaded, but clung to that sane thought, expanded on it.

Bow.

No, the voice said, a little more firmly, and I felt myself lock into place; the water above my head was growing thinner. Absolutely not.

Bow! Now!

The voice sounded angry, but I could see sunlight, just barely. No!

Climb onto the table, then!

Why? I was getting even closer; soon, I would breathe again.

Do it.

No! I won't!

I broke the surface, gasping slightly, and quickly calmed my breathing. Malfoy had looked away again, lowering his wand. Snap gave me a curt nod and said, "Let's see how well your mind power is after all that…Legilimens!"

No warning, I had time to think in stun, and then my memories were accessed; the worst night of my life lay before me, and I was throwing up my mental barriers, pushing him out, getting him away. I came out of the nightmare panting slightly.

Snape was glaring at me. "Practice, Granger, you'll need it," he snarled. "But at least you have proved more adept at Legilimency than Mr. Potter."

I froze; a strong feeling was poisoning me, so thick and boiling that it felt like acid. "Don't you dare," I said quietly, "speak of Harry that way."

Snape had frozen, too; maybe he knew he'd made a mistake. "However sorry we all are for Mr. Potter's death, that does not mean that we may bury his faults."

"Yes, that's all you ever saw about him, wasn't it, Professor?" I said coldly; something inside me had snapped. "Someone who had too many faults for you to even consider tolerating, a person that you thought was the living reincarnation of his father; James and Harry blended together in your mind, Snape. You never knew which was which. Harry never deserved what you did to him, what you are still doing to him." I glared into the black eyes with all my might. "You hated him, and he couldn't understand why. He was just like you in some ways; he wasn't popular, either, you know. Your house made life a living Hell for him. And you know that you never cared. You scorned his Godfather, and his parents; you never gave him a chance to rise above their mistakes. And that, Severus Snape, was your biggest mistake of all." Smartly, I turned on my heel and left the room, letting the door bang closed behind me.

I walked slowly and laboriously up the stairs, ready to take a nap before trying to Disapparate, my thoughts aching and spinning and never slowing as that night, that terrible night, came flooding back into my mind. I'd been so certain that it had to be a nightmare, as I fought Death Eaters to keep my own life.

As I sat down on my old bed, I put my head in my hands, remembering suddenly the thought that Malfoy hadn't intended me to hear: Granger, forgive me…

"Why?" I asked aloud. Had those thoughts been in his mind since first year? Was the emotion those cold grey eyes sometimes revealed…actually regret?

"Granger."

I looked up at him, hastily wiping away the tears that had been ready to spill from pain and confusion. Draco Malfoy looked awkward, standing in that doorway, as though he had no idea why he was there, but he seemed strangely graceful at the same time, his eyes sparkling with exhaustion and his face suddenly flushed, not quite so pale as before. His hand rested lightly on the doorframe, fingers absentmindedly stroking the wood. I met his eyes unwillingly, for it had been he who tortured Harry Potter the most. "Yes?" I said, my voice oddly cold.

He seemed to hesitate, looking out the window that was behind me. Then he said, "Are you Apparating back?"

"I'm going to rest first," I said shortly, swinging my legs up onto the bed to make the point that he should get going. "I'll splinch myself if I go now. You should probably take a breather, too, you look pale as death."

He leaned against the doorway, not looking at me. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" he said, smirking to himself, but there was something uneasy about the smirk.

"No," I said, quietly and truthfully, but I didn't look at him. "I wouldn't."

He was silent for a long while. When I finally looked up again, he wasn't looking at me anymore, just staring at the doorframe opposite him, his gaze unfocused and blank. Just as it had been hard to hate him when he reminisced about his mother, it was hard to hate him when he looked so remarkably lost. "Malfoy, you really do need to rest," I prompted quietly. "Using those curses is exhausting."

He didn't appear to hear me. Frowning, I got up and walked over to him. His eyes had closed; he looked oddly torn, as though contemplating some major issue. "Draco," I said softly, "are you awake?"

There was no answer. I shook my head, managing a slight smile, and levitated him over to the far bed. I lay down on the other bed, shutting my eyes tight to keep the unreasonable tears at bay as my mind turned again to that night, and the loss of my best friend. I was finally drifting when I heard him mutter, "You called me Draco."

When I looked over at him, though, he was already lost in his dreamland, and softly, muffling my cries with the musty pillow, I followed him into sleep.