Hey everyone!
I know I haven't posted in a while, but this is only Part One of Chapter 4 because I began typing, thinking I would get to some major plot, and I've only started, and look how long it is. Therefore, I broke it into two parts so no one would hurt me. ::smiles meekly:: I know, bad me. I'll have to get Snape to give me a detention…
Anyway, this chapter may make little or no sense, but from here on, things are going to move pretty fast. And the last part of this chapter may seem like it has nothing to do with anything, but I wanted to give some foreshadowing for events to come…
Blah blah blah. You people know the drill. Read, like, dislike, review, bitch, moan, spit at me, whatever. Just leave a review.
Toots.
Chapter 4 Part 1
"What do you mean he was summoned?"
Hermione gave Ron a piercing look as Harry smirked, moving his knight to capture one of Ron's pawns. "What do you think, Ron?" she said agitatedly.
His brow furrowed, "How should I know?" he said, standing by his wounded pride.
He rested his chin in his palm as he moved a bishop to take Harry's once- victorious knight, and Harry threw himself into the back of his chair with a frustrated sigh. "Because there was a meeting last night, you git!"
Ron looked up with a cute frown on his face, obviously not following on the same thought patterns. "Huh?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at Harry. "ANYWAY," she said loudly, and Ron 'hmph'ed' and looked back at the chessboard, murmuring obscenities into his hand. She leaned back in the rouge armchair as the fire threw shadows across her face, "He was in a lot of pain. I'd never seen anything like it before. He seemed panicked, like he didn't know what was happening," she explained.
Harry's face contorted with confusion. "He would know what it feels like, since he's been a death eater since the years when he was at Hogwarts. That's at least twenty years," Harry said, once again occupied with the chess game he was sorely loosing.
Hermione averted her gaze to the night sky blanketing the forest outside the window as snow began to fall again. "Geez, it's snowing again," she muttered. Pulling her blanket tighter around her, she looked back at their game. "I'm still concerned about him, though," she said.
Harry looked up at her while Ron surveyed the board, looking (or hoping) for another move. "Who, Snape?" he asked, and Hermione blushed. "Why, Herm? He gave you detention! You should be happy to get away from him!"
Hermione's face colored again, and she turned away, not wanting Harry to see (Ron was too preoccupied with the chess board to even notice that she and Harry were deep in a meaningful conversation). "He's a human being, Harry. If you were hurting I'd worry about you, too."
Harry looked up, giving her a searching look. "Hermione, just a week ago you exploded at him, telling him you'd rather he rot in hell-"
"Yes and now I realize I was wrong," she cut him off, not wanting to hear her own cruel words repeated. "I didn't realize how he must carry a very large burden."
Ron smirked. "How do you know he's not really working for the Dark Lord and not double crossing Dumbledore?" he asked, finally understanding what they were talking about. "I mean, it's not like he acts very friendly towards anyone, and he still attends all the meetings-"
"He's not, Ron," Hermione said, not bothering to look at him, "I know he seems to be acting, but I know it's not a joke. He's not working for Voldemort anymore." She knew he wasn't pleasant to most people, but the pain she had seen in his eyes the night before told her that it wasn't what he wanted; but for him, he had no way of freeing himself.
Realizing Hermione was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Harry took charge and changed the subject before Ron grew to be too out of hand. "So," he said, moving his pawn to take one of Ron's bishops. "What's happening this weekend, Herm? You're going to Hogsmeade with us, aren't you?"
"Yes, I suppose," she answered, trying to hide a shiver that ran up her spine. She hoped neither boy would notice, knowing how the both of them were very protective of her; like she was a small child. She resented it, but knew it was only out of love that they badgered her every time she coughed or sneezed.
"You alright, Herm?"
She looked back and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine," she lied, "just a little chilly, is all."
"Check," Harry muttered to Ron, then focused back on Hermione, "Are you sure?"
"Yup."
Which was also a lie. She had been very concerned in the past few hours. She had never seen so much anger and frustration in one person, especially when it was aimed at themselves. She felt for him, though she often caught herself, wondering. Why did she care? He'd only been an evil selfish man up until a week ago, and suddenly, it was as if those things had never happened. He seemed vulnerable to her. Like… a child.
"I must be going," she said, standing as the blanket fell to the floor. "I have detention again in a little bit."
Harry looked up as Ron moved a piece, studying the detached girl. "You sure you're ok, Hermione? You want one of us to walk you there?" She seemed she was spacing in and out of reality, having trouble concentrating on conversation or on a person. He noticed in class she wasn't paying attention, which really scared him. The day Hermione Granger didn't pay attention in class, anyone was bound to get a little frightened.
"No, I'm ok. I'll see you guys later." And with that, she slipped out of the portrait hole.
Harry turned back to the chessboard as Ron reclined in his chair. "I don't see why she's so strung on him. It's not like he's obsessively nice to her or anything." Harry swept his queen smoothly along the glass board, and she possessively hammered a small pawn. "I mean, besides Neville, she's the most picked on in class."
"Yes, I know," Harry replied as Ron moved him into check again. "She obviously sees something in him that we don't."
Ron sniggered. "Apparently."
Harry rested his cheek in his palm thoughtfully. "I just wish she would tell us what."
*
Hermione walked slowly towards the dungeons, her heart heavy. It was apparent that Ron and Harry wouldn't understand. They just didn't see the eye-to-eye when it came to Snape; they hadn't seen his face that night. The emotion… she couldn't even begin to describe the types of hurt she had seen…
Approaching the wooden doors with apprehension, she grabbed the ancient handle and pulled, and the door scrapped noisily against the floor. Recoiling as the disturbing din scratched her ears, she peered into the dark classroom, and slid inside.
It was very chilly; the usual green fire that burned brightly in the corner hearth was extinguished, and the common torches didn't burn. The atmosphere was cold and gray; only a small amount of light from the setting sun filtered through the stained-glass window above Snape's desk at the front of the room. It cast an eerie glare over the bookshelf full of potion vials; the green, blue, and red containers gleamed unwelcomingly and the raw ingredients shimmered warningly in the wooden barrels in the corner.
She walked cautiously towards the front of the room. She was about to call out to see if Snape was in the dungeons when a small whimper echoed from one corner of the room.
"Professor?"
Panic suddenly overtaking her, Hermione quickened her pace, trying to follow the sound. She only heard it once, though, and had trouble placing the soul from which it had been produced. "Professor? Where are you? Answer me!"
She heard the ruffling of cloth; something was moving. Hearing it off to the right, she quickly spun on her heel and began looking under desks. If he was being summoned again…
"Hermione?" a hoarse, tired, raw voice echoed, sounding strained.
Her anxiety returned. "Where are you? Tell me, I'll help you-"
"Go back to your common room," he said weakly, "Detention has been cancelled."
Anger settled on her face. Damn the stubborn man. "I'm not leaving until I find you. So either you can tell me, or I'll keep searching." She peered into the nook between the bookshelf and the wall, thinking he was hiding from her on purpose.
He cursed, sending Hermione another message. She was close. "Please, Professor," she begged, "tell me where I can find you. I want to help you- "
She turned past the corner of his sturdy oak desk, and found him huddled underneath it, curled away from her. His cloak covered his face; his body trembled in pain as he buried his head in his arms. "Oh dear…"
She crouched down before him, falling to her knees. Pushing his hair out of his face as she had the night before, she tried to read his features. Stained with fearful tears, his eyes were afraid; she'd never seen such panic in anyone's face before. They were no longer menacing; they were almost pleading.
"You didn't go to Dumbledore, did you?" she asked calmly. When he didn't even try to place a disapproving look upon his face, her alarm was renewed. He simply shook his head quickly no, fresh tears beginning to flow. Taking his face into her hands, she felt a shiver run through her arms and down her back. One message it sent her was of the immense torture he felt, of the sting of his mistakes; she could feel it searing off of him and running through her palm and fingertips. Another message was terror; he was deathly afraid of what was happening to him. He had no idea what was in store for him, and he apparently didn't want to die. She felt a pang of sorrow for him, and felt a need to help him.
The last feeling she felt was discomfort. He was obviously just as embarrassed as she was experiencing this kind of contact. He was a professor, she was a student; nothing could change that. Yet still; Poppy had never been practiced at advanced healing. This girl; this young, intelligent, quiet child was able to do greater things than Hogwarts' hired nurse.
"It's alright," she cooed, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as she tried to comfort him once more. "Calm down."
She muttered Latin healing spells again as he offered his arm to her, but the discomfort didn't recede; it had advanced ten times in intensity since the last night, and Snape tried to keep from breaking down right in front of her. She wouldn't know him to be weak; he was just as strong as anyone. He wouldn't let her think that he was pathetic.
Frowning slightly because her spells refused to work, she racked her mind for others she had learned. She knew advanced healing spells, but those involved using soul energy; she could be in bed for days if anything went wrong. But, still…
Sighing and making up her mind, she grabbed his hand. "Come out from under there," she said calmly, "I can't help you if you're hiding underneath your desk."
He grudgingly complied, and she pulled him next to her. Sliding tiredly to her side, he felt faintly light-headed; his head throbbed. He leaned into the crook of her neck, feeling as if he was going to loose consciousness, his stomach growing uneasy. He caught her off guard, but she didn't mind, knowing for this particular spell the Healer needed a great deal of physical contact with the patient because the Healer would be transferring some of their energy into the patient, and this would soothe the ache.
Snape felt embarrassed, truly stripped of all dignity; but he didn't care. He couldn't think. It didn't matter anymore.
Directing her energy at his body and focusing her gaze on his face, she slowly began to drain the positive energy from her body into him through his hands, which she had firmly clasped in her own, their palms touching. She felt him immediately relax his muscles, and felt him collapse completely onto her. His breathing slowed, became less labored, and his eyes closed. Within an hour, he was completely subdued and serene, and Hermione expected, asleep.
Grabbing her wand and muttering a spell to lighten his weight, she awkwardly cradled him against her and carried him towards the door she suspected lead to his private rooms. She felt guilty going into his quarters, but didn't know what else to do with him. She hoped he hadn't locked the door with any advanced spells, but after muttering a low 'Alohomora' the door lock slid open and she pushed the door on its hinges.
The room was dark, and after quietly whispering 'lumos' she lowered him gently onto his quilt, and grabbing a blanket off to the side on top of a small trunk, covered his shivering form. She felt she had done her part, and taking one last look at him, hurried off to find the Headmaster.
*
Hermione jogged down the corridor, finding nausea settling uneasily into her stomach. Slowing down in exhaustion and weakness, she raised a hand to lean against the wall to catch her breath. She peered around the corner of the wall, and found the stone gargoyle only a few feet away. She walked slowly over to it, and then found she didn't know the password.
"Oh come on, don't play this game with me," she muttered at it. "I've had a long day, and a crisis has arisen concerning one of the professors and I desperately need to speak with the headmaster."
It didn't budge.
She grunted and searched her brain for every type of Honeydukes sweet she could come up with. After listing off a good chunk that she new, she finally came up with 'Caramel Cats' and the gargoyle stepped aside, and she bolted up the gliding staircase.
She rapped on the door. "Headmaster?" she called, "Professor Dumbledore?"
She heard footsteps padding on soft carpet, and the door slowly slid open. "Yes, childing? Come in, please; I was just about to have some hot chocolate…" Professor Dumbledore offered.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I'm awfully sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass up that offer. Professor Snape has fallen ill, and I found him under his desk while attending my detention," she explained, and watched as Dumbledore's eyes became gradually more and more concerned. Dumbledore made a move to speak, but she cut him off before he could start to tell her to go back to her common room. "Please, Professor, he's passive right now, but I felt the need to inform you; I believe he was summoned again. He's in his private rooms; I didn't want to leave him alone in his classroom." She lowered her chin as her cheeks colored. She figured she would be scolded; a student never entered a professor's chambers without permission. She would probably be given even more detentions on top of what she already had.
To her complete surprise, however, Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you, Hermione," he said warmly, "for taking care of him in my absence. Pray tell, did this occur during any other time that you have been in his presence?" he asked quietly.
Hermione colored again. Snape would probably be furious at her for discharging such personal information, but the headmaster had every right to know. "Yes," she said sheepishly, "last night. He told me that he would see you, and, being a student, didn't feel it necessary or politically correct to escort him to your office door."
Dumbledore gave a heart-heavy sigh. "He's a masterful potions brewer, but a very stubborn man." He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for informing me, Hermione. I'll be sure to go and see how his condition stands."
"I hope he will be ok. Should I go back to the common room?"
"Yes," he replied, "I believe that that is an excellent idea."
Hermione fumbled with her fingers, "Euh… Professor?"
Dumbledore looked back from his descent down the staircase, "Yes?"
"Tell him… t-tell him I hope he feels better, and that I hope it doesn't h- happen again," she rushed.
Dumbledore smiled in response. "Thank you for caring, Hermione." She blushed again. "I know even though he doesn't show it most of the time, he greatly appreciates it."
He swept off towards the dungeons, and she blinked once; he had gone. Hermione hurried back to the common room, for a long night of restless tossing and little, or no, sleep.
*
Hermione slouched at the breakfast table that Saturday morning, and played with her crisp toast. She had completely forgotten about spreading jam or marmalade on the flaky bread, and was more interested in watching it crumble into miniscule pieces than actually eating it.
Harry stared at her after taking a huge bite of his biscuit. "Rough night, Hermione?" he said through a mouthful of butter and crumbs.
"Hmm," she answered, closing her eyes. Snape hadn't appeared at the high table, and she figured he was still recovering from the ordeal of the night before. Hermione had then slumped to the table with a damp spirit, and Ron and Harry had refrained from noticing for most of the meal, much to her pleasure.
Ron reached across the table and wrapped his fingers expertly around the rim of the saltshaker. "How was detention?" he asked.
Hermione closed her eyes and cradled her head on her arm. "All right," she lied.
Harry paused in his eating frenzy. "Are you coming down with something?"
"No, I'm ok. Just had a rough night, is all."
Harry and Ron looked up as the usual storm of owls fluttered into the Great Hall. Not expecting any mail, Hermione closed her eyes and propped her head in the crook of her arm. She was startled awake again, however, when an owl landed in her bowl of cereal. Surprised at even receiving any mail, she sat up quickly and untied the red ribbon, noting the Hogwarts seal on the front. Quickly sliding her finger underneath the flap, she hastily opened the letter. Inside, she found the untidy scrawl of the Headmaster.
1 Dear Ms. Granger-
I would like to have a meeting with you concerning your last detention. It has been brought to my attention that Professor Snape is currently in a state of illness, and I would like to speak with you to discuss arrangements. Please see me in my office after you finish with your meal. Thank you.
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hermione smirked. She looked up to find Harry and Ron staring at her with half-expectant gazes. "What?"
"What's it say?" asked Ron.
She threw it to him. "I have to see Dumbledore about my last detention."
"Last detention?" repeated Ron.
Harry leaned forward on the table on his elbows. "Was he summoned again?" he asked, a serious expression on his face.
Hermione looked down at her place, eyeing the few crumbs left upon the shiny surface. "Yes," she replied quietly.
Ron frowned as he read over the letter. "So… what does that have to do with your last detention?"
Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands, and Hermione shot him a disbelieving glare. "Ron, what are we going to do with you?"
"Is he all right at least?" Harry asked.
Hermione rubbed her neck with her hand. "I have no idea. He was in a poor state when I left yesterday." She pushed back from the table and stood, brushing some odd crumbs off of her robes here and there. "I'm going to go talk to Dumbledore. Meet me in the common room later?"
Harry nodded, and Ron stared back at her with a befuddled expression.
*
Hermione walked slowly towards Dumbledore's office, noticing the rising feeling of déjà vu in her chest. She was glad the password hadn't been changed since the last time she had been there, and knocked nervously on the door.
She heard the doorknob click, and Dumbledore's warm face appeared before her. "Ah, Ms. Granger," he said with a smile, "Thank you for coming on such notice. Was your meal enjoyable?"
"Yes, very much so, thank you," she lied.
"Come in, come in," he shooed her inside, and she took a seat timidly in front of his desk.
Dumbledore swept over to a boiling kettle on a shelf in his office. "I just made a pot of tea, would you like a mug?" he asked jovially.
She blushed, pushing some stray brown hair behind her ear. "No, thank you, Professor," she lied. She was so nervous, what if she spilled on herself and made a complete fool of herself?
Dumbledore seemed to sense this falsehood, because he ignored her answer and poured her a mug anyway. Setting it down before her, she colored but picked it up tentatively, and found herself enjoying the way her hands warmed upon contact.
He sat in his chair before her, sipping from his cup. "I spoke with Professor Snape yesterday."
Hermione looked up from her cup with wide-eyes. "Was he ok?" she asked, suddenly conscious of the way her voice quaked.
He smiled. "Yes, he was fine. He was a little shaken, but otherwise in good health. I want to congratulate you on your use of cool logic and skills in a time of need. That shows bravery and level-headedness."
"Thank you, Professor."
Dumbledore turned his wise eyes upon her. "Which brings me to another topic. Professor Snape has informed me that you performed very advanced magic in that classroom… would you like to tell me about it?"
Hermione finished her sip of tea quickly. "W-Why?" she asked, afraid of punishment.
He smiled. "You are not in trouble, Ms. Granger… I would simply like to know what types of magic you used and where you learned such magic that even Poppy Pomphrey could not perform."
She found her face blushing again. "It was in a book I was reading once… something about advanced magic healing. I found it very intriguing… it was something that I could master fairly easily without much practice. When Harry received bruises or cuts or scrapes from Quidditch, I was able to heal them with a touch, and without a wand. Harry never understood it, but he backed up my studies from that day on. Once Ron fell and broke his arm, and I was able to heal it without him going to the nurse. He was afraid of her asking too many questions."
She was then afraid she had said too much, but Dumbledore simply smiled, nodding for her to continue. He sat with his fingers intertwined in his lap, a thoughtful expression settled on his face.
"For months I would heal small injuries for close friends… like the Weasley twins, who constantly received minor maladies from Quidditch as well. I never thought twice about it. It was just something that I did. It wasn't something I practiced; it was just a part of me, like it had been there all along, I had just needed to acknowledge its existence and learn how to use it."
Dumbledore sipped his tea again, "And is this the type of magic you used to help Professor Snape the past two previous nights?"
Hermione hung her head. "Yes."
To her surprise, Dumbledore smiled again. "I'm very proud you, Ms. Granger. A very small percent of the wizarding population are born with the gift of healing."
"You think it's a gift?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, I think it is a very wonderful gift. What's more, you have a big heart, and you use your gift to help others, which makes it not only your gift, but also a gift to other people as well. I think Professor Snape would agree with me as well.
"Which leads me to the next order of business." Dumbledore stood and began to pace. "I believe Professor Snape told you that you had to fulfill three detentions for him?" Hermione nodded. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, your behavior the last two nights has made up for your deed and you are free to go, and you don't have to sit through another detention."
Hermione looked up at him again. "Really?"
Dumbledore turned to her again. "However, I have a job for you."
Hermione's gaze became serious again. "What would you like me to do?" she asked hesitantly.
Dumbledore sat again. "Professor Snape has informed me that he is in need of some ingredients to restock the potions' department." He took his mug again, "To retrieve these ingredients, he needs to go to Hogsmeade to the Apothecary, which is the only store close enough that carries these items. I would usually allow him to go alone, but since the previous night's happenings, I am slightly reluctant."
"So you want me to go with him, to keep an eye on him?" she asked.
Dumbledore looked up, amusement and knowledge present in his eyes. "You are very wise, Ms. Granger." She became embarrassed again. "Yes, that is exactly what I would like you to do. I really don't want to ruin your chance at a day at Hogsmeade, but Poppy has to stay on school grounds to tend to students, and incase of emergency, she is the hired Hogwarts nurse, so she can't leave. I need someone there who will watch over and take care of him, and you are the only witch in Hogwarts that can fulfill these requirements."
"You're trusting me with a Professor's life?" she asked skeptically.
"Yes, I trust you completely. Not all students are as reliable and caring as you are. This is a strong quality that the Sorting Hat looks for while deciding where to place them during the ceremony. These qualities are most prominent among Gryfindors. You happen to be one of them, and you also possess a keen power of healing. Therefore, you are the only one I can send with him."
Hermione didn't know whether to take this as a compliment or a curse. But before she could ponder too long, Dumbledore's voice cracked into her thoughts. "After he has made the necessary purchases, you are free to join your friends and have a normal visit."
Hermione stared into her hands. She had never taken anyone under her care before; she wouldn't know how to act. What if she did something wrong, and only made his condition worse?
"You don't have to do this Hermione, this is only a proposition. If you feel that it would put too much pressure upon you and you don't feel that you would be able to handle it, then you are free to decline the offer."
"No," she answered before she could stop herself, "I'll do it. I think I can handle it."
Dumbledore grinned. "Thank you very much, Hermione. You don't know how much this means to me, and if he knew, Professor Snape. Which reminds me," he crossed his hands upon his desk, "Professor Snape has no knowledge of this agreement. He thinks that you are simply doing this as your last detention. If he knew, I daresay he would fight me to the death, thinking he didn't need anyone's assistance. Please do not tell him of this arrangement."
"Oh, no, I won't, I promise," she answered.
"Good, good." He finished his mug, and a small house elf arrived to take it off to the kitchens. "I think that Hogsmeade opens to Hogwarts students in two hours. Please be ready to go fifteen minutes prior to that time, and meet Professor Snape in his classroom. He will escort you to Hogsmeade, most likely by apparition."
"All right." Hermione rose to leave. "Is there anything else, Professor?"
He smiled and stood to escort her to the door of his office, "No, I believe that is all there is to discuss. Thank you again, Hermione. It's a truly noble thing you are doing. And it also interests me that you didn't ask for anything in return for your services."
"Oh, no, Professor, that would be too selfish of me. I'm only doing a service to the school, and that deserves no reward. The only reward I will receive is the assurance that Professor Snape has a safe journey." She walked towards the door, and Dumbledore opened it before her, and she left.
"Hermione Granger," he muttered to himself after she had left, "A truly amazing child."
*
"Come now, Ms. Granger, don't waste my time. I want to make this trip as short as possible."
Hermione jogged after the sweeping black robes of her Potions Master, careful to make as little noise as possible. He seemed irritable since the night before, but she knew better than to question him. She followed him down several corridors, until they reached the front doors. He led her outside, and turned to her at the bottom of the steps. "We'll have to travel to the perimeter of the school to be able to apparate. Are you up for a walk?"
"Yes, sir," she answered mindfully.
The sun was unusually bright, especially since Professor Trelawny had predicted heavy rain all day. She followed him to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, close to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was outside tending to his vegetable patch when he saw her and gave her a friendly wave. She waved back, but Snape gave her a deadly glare, and she recoiled. He marched up to the trail they had walked their first year for a detention. "Follow me closely," he ordered, "I will not lie to you; the forest is dangerous."
With that, he turned and began to make his way through the forest.
Though it was complete daylight outside, very little sun made it through the canopy of leaves towering above them. Hermione found the shadows that hid behind the rocks and dead foliage and the deafening silence that coated them both foreboding, but said nothing of it. Snape would only sneer and tell her how childish she was being; he wouldn't care. She had the distinct feeling that they were being followed, yet she usually was always slightly paranoid in social situations.
She jumped several times when she heard rustling behind her, but was disappointed (or relieved) to find that nothing was there. Figuring it was her mind playing tricks on her, she continued without saying a word, walking in the cold footsteps of the mute man before her.
She could see streaks of light highlighting Snape's hair as he walked quickly down the dirt path. He didn't say anything to her, and she wondered it he had forgotten her presence. They walked for what seemed like hours but Hermione suspected it was only about half an hour that had passed. She reminded herself of the secret passageway Harry had used previous years, thinking of how much easier it would have been to use that instead…
Snape came to a halt in front of her. "We've come to a particularly difficult part of the path. Be careful."
She nodded and followed quietly. Snape held back undergrowth, unruly thorns and clinging bushes out of her way, and she found herself grateful but embarrassed. Several times, though, Hermione had to help dislodge angry twigs from his cloak. Sometimes he'd even had to help her over large logs that had fallen over the path.
"How much farther, Professor?"
Snape paused. "We should be halfway there."
Only halfway? her mind echoed. Her shoulders automatically slumped and she sighed. That tunnel that ran underneath the school soon seemed so much more appealing than this route…
Suddenly she felt as if the back of her robes was being yanked from behind. She yelped with a combination of fear and surprise and clutched at the back of Snape's cloak, clinging close to him. He spun around, alarmed. "What is it?" he asked urgently.
She still hung on to his cloak, "Something grabbed me, Professor," she answered timidly.
Snape looked down the path behind her as she looked up at him expectantly. His eyes quickly darkened. "Centaurs," he muttered with distaste.
Hermione turned her head back, her eyes falling on the sleek body of a horse, and the handsome face of a human. Another centaur stood next to him, eyeing her with fascination. Both had sleek horse-like bodies of shimmering chestnut and cream-colored fur, and amply built upper human bodies. Hermione found she suddenly had the urge to reach out and stroke the gleaming fur, but refrained. Snape didn't' seem to trust them, so neither did she.
"Ronan," Snape said curtly; she expected he was addressing the chestnut in front of her. "Goliath," he nodded to the other.
"Severus Snape," Ronan answered.
Snape sniggered with disgust. "Was it really necessary to startle my student like that? She doesn't like being here as it is."
1.1 That's an understatement, she thought to herself, suppressing a smirk.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave as soon as possible, Severus," Ronan said importantly.
Snape's lips curled in repugnance. "Why is that? You think you can start ordering me around?"
"No," Goliath answered for him, "It's just that theirs is a pure evil prowling here in the woods. We are unsure of what evil this is," he explained. "It has slain one of our brethren before today's sunrise. We awoke to find a corpse beside us."
Snape faltered. "Who?" he asked.
Ronan looked down at his hooves, "Samoan."
"I'm sorry," said Snape. "Didn't she just give birth to a young foal about a month ago?"
"Yes."
"Firenze also tells us he has seen them lurking in the shadows… most of the centaurs are staying in large groups in the forest to ensure safety in numbers… but we had to come and make sure you were informed. How far are you from your destination?" asked Goliath.
"I believe we are only halfway to the other side of the forest," Snape answered.
Goliath's eyes became concerned. "You won't make it to the other side," he whispered.
"We'll transport you," Ronan said quickly, "It will be harder for them to catch you while you ride upon our backs."
"Ronan," Goliath said warningly.
He looked back at him angrily. "We may not be great friends with the humans, but their blood runs with ours, and it is cruel to leave any animal in the woods with this type of evil stalks them. They are more vulnerable than we are." Snape seemed to suppress a snort at this; apparently he didn't consider himself vulnerable.
"Here," Ronan bent down upon his front knees, "We will aid you."
Hermione held back; she'd never ridden a horse before, never mind a centaur.
"Go on, Hermione," Snape gave her a small push, "Would you like help getting on?"
She nodded numbly, taking tentative steps closer, Snape's warm hand upon her shoulder.
He lifted her with ease up onto Ronan, and she sat dully on his powerful back. She could feel his muscles flexing as he stood. "You might want to hold on," the centaur said, and reached back to her hands, wrapping them around his waist. "Here, like this."
She linked her hands around his waist, holding on for dear life. Oh, the things she got herself into…
Goliath seemed much less happy to have a human as cargo. "Hurry up," he said, leaning down, "We haven't got all day. Our tribe needs us as well, you're not our only priority here."
Snape walked swiftly over to him and hoisted himself up, settling on his back as Hermione had. "Alright," said Ronan, "Let's go."
*
It was a bumpy ride to the edge of the forest, and Hermione hung on for dear life for fear of flying off. Though the ride was smooth and Ronan's even strides beneath her relaxing, she was beyond nervous. Snape seemed to be having a harder time with Goliath, however, because it seemed he was trying to buck Snape off, not caring if a random tree or branch hit him.
Hermione was very relieved when then came to a grand clearing, rolling hills and valleys dipping and rising before her eyes. Ronan stopped, and lowered himself to let her slip off of him. "Thank you very much," she said politely.
"You're very welcome," Ronan answered with a smile, "The pleasure was all mine."
Goliath and Snape came some time after, and Goliath let Snape climb off, or more like threw him. Goliath sneered at Snape, and Snape answered with an equally evil glare back. "Thank you, Goliath," he said threw gritted teeth.
Goliath snorted, crossing his arms and raising his nose above him. He turned quickly and galloped off into the brush again.
Ronan sighed. "You'll have to forgive him, he's slightly biased against humans. He hasn't had very many good past experiences with them."
"I can tell," snorted Snape.
He smiled at Hermione. "Well, I must be going back. I want to make sure my tribe is still intact. Have a safe journey."
"You too," she answered.
And with that, he trotted back into the depths of the forest, the sound of his hooves beating against the earth retreating swiftly.
Snape watched after him, and turned back to her once he had gone. "Well, now that we're beyond Hogwarts perimeters, we can Apparate off here." He extended his hand towards her. "Take my hand, and we'll be off."
She rested her hand in his palm and he pulled her closer to him, "Hold on tight, I don't want to lose you now."
As his fingers clasped around her hand and she felt a tingle run through her, her world suddenly dulled and became various shades of gray and melted, her sight fading into darkness…
There, the first installment. I know it seems like ANOTHER boring going- nowhere chapter, but just… give me some time. I PROMISE the next part will have EVERYTING you people have been waiting for. I absolutely promise. If it doesn't, you can give me detention with Snape and I'll help Hagrid tend to his rabid beasts :ahem: at his hut. And I'll take this story off. Really, I will. Just, leave a review. Please? Pretty Please?
Thanks for reading!
~Shorty
I know I haven't posted in a while, but this is only Part One of Chapter 4 because I began typing, thinking I would get to some major plot, and I've only started, and look how long it is. Therefore, I broke it into two parts so no one would hurt me. ::smiles meekly:: I know, bad me. I'll have to get Snape to give me a detention…
Anyway, this chapter may make little or no sense, but from here on, things are going to move pretty fast. And the last part of this chapter may seem like it has nothing to do with anything, but I wanted to give some foreshadowing for events to come…
Blah blah blah. You people know the drill. Read, like, dislike, review, bitch, moan, spit at me, whatever. Just leave a review.
Toots.
Chapter 4 Part 1
"What do you mean he was summoned?"
Hermione gave Ron a piercing look as Harry smirked, moving his knight to capture one of Ron's pawns. "What do you think, Ron?" she said agitatedly.
His brow furrowed, "How should I know?" he said, standing by his wounded pride.
He rested his chin in his palm as he moved a bishop to take Harry's once- victorious knight, and Harry threw himself into the back of his chair with a frustrated sigh. "Because there was a meeting last night, you git!"
Ron looked up with a cute frown on his face, obviously not following on the same thought patterns. "Huh?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at Harry. "ANYWAY," she said loudly, and Ron 'hmph'ed' and looked back at the chessboard, murmuring obscenities into his hand. She leaned back in the rouge armchair as the fire threw shadows across her face, "He was in a lot of pain. I'd never seen anything like it before. He seemed panicked, like he didn't know what was happening," she explained.
Harry's face contorted with confusion. "He would know what it feels like, since he's been a death eater since the years when he was at Hogwarts. That's at least twenty years," Harry said, once again occupied with the chess game he was sorely loosing.
Hermione averted her gaze to the night sky blanketing the forest outside the window as snow began to fall again. "Geez, it's snowing again," she muttered. Pulling her blanket tighter around her, she looked back at their game. "I'm still concerned about him, though," she said.
Harry looked up at her while Ron surveyed the board, looking (or hoping) for another move. "Who, Snape?" he asked, and Hermione blushed. "Why, Herm? He gave you detention! You should be happy to get away from him!"
Hermione's face colored again, and she turned away, not wanting Harry to see (Ron was too preoccupied with the chess board to even notice that she and Harry were deep in a meaningful conversation). "He's a human being, Harry. If you were hurting I'd worry about you, too."
Harry looked up, giving her a searching look. "Hermione, just a week ago you exploded at him, telling him you'd rather he rot in hell-"
"Yes and now I realize I was wrong," she cut him off, not wanting to hear her own cruel words repeated. "I didn't realize how he must carry a very large burden."
Ron smirked. "How do you know he's not really working for the Dark Lord and not double crossing Dumbledore?" he asked, finally understanding what they were talking about. "I mean, it's not like he acts very friendly towards anyone, and he still attends all the meetings-"
"He's not, Ron," Hermione said, not bothering to look at him, "I know he seems to be acting, but I know it's not a joke. He's not working for Voldemort anymore." She knew he wasn't pleasant to most people, but the pain she had seen in his eyes the night before told her that it wasn't what he wanted; but for him, he had no way of freeing himself.
Realizing Hermione was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Harry took charge and changed the subject before Ron grew to be too out of hand. "So," he said, moving his pawn to take one of Ron's bishops. "What's happening this weekend, Herm? You're going to Hogsmeade with us, aren't you?"
"Yes, I suppose," she answered, trying to hide a shiver that ran up her spine. She hoped neither boy would notice, knowing how the both of them were very protective of her; like she was a small child. She resented it, but knew it was only out of love that they badgered her every time she coughed or sneezed.
"You alright, Herm?"
She looked back and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine," she lied, "just a little chilly, is all."
"Check," Harry muttered to Ron, then focused back on Hermione, "Are you sure?"
"Yup."
Which was also a lie. She had been very concerned in the past few hours. She had never seen so much anger and frustration in one person, especially when it was aimed at themselves. She felt for him, though she often caught herself, wondering. Why did she care? He'd only been an evil selfish man up until a week ago, and suddenly, it was as if those things had never happened. He seemed vulnerable to her. Like… a child.
"I must be going," she said, standing as the blanket fell to the floor. "I have detention again in a little bit."
Harry looked up as Ron moved a piece, studying the detached girl. "You sure you're ok, Hermione? You want one of us to walk you there?" She seemed she was spacing in and out of reality, having trouble concentrating on conversation or on a person. He noticed in class she wasn't paying attention, which really scared him. The day Hermione Granger didn't pay attention in class, anyone was bound to get a little frightened.
"No, I'm ok. I'll see you guys later." And with that, she slipped out of the portrait hole.
Harry turned back to the chessboard as Ron reclined in his chair. "I don't see why she's so strung on him. It's not like he's obsessively nice to her or anything." Harry swept his queen smoothly along the glass board, and she possessively hammered a small pawn. "I mean, besides Neville, she's the most picked on in class."
"Yes, I know," Harry replied as Ron moved him into check again. "She obviously sees something in him that we don't."
Ron sniggered. "Apparently."
Harry rested his cheek in his palm thoughtfully. "I just wish she would tell us what."
*
Hermione walked slowly towards the dungeons, her heart heavy. It was apparent that Ron and Harry wouldn't understand. They just didn't see the eye-to-eye when it came to Snape; they hadn't seen his face that night. The emotion… she couldn't even begin to describe the types of hurt she had seen…
Approaching the wooden doors with apprehension, she grabbed the ancient handle and pulled, and the door scrapped noisily against the floor. Recoiling as the disturbing din scratched her ears, she peered into the dark classroom, and slid inside.
It was very chilly; the usual green fire that burned brightly in the corner hearth was extinguished, and the common torches didn't burn. The atmosphere was cold and gray; only a small amount of light from the setting sun filtered through the stained-glass window above Snape's desk at the front of the room. It cast an eerie glare over the bookshelf full of potion vials; the green, blue, and red containers gleamed unwelcomingly and the raw ingredients shimmered warningly in the wooden barrels in the corner.
She walked cautiously towards the front of the room. She was about to call out to see if Snape was in the dungeons when a small whimper echoed from one corner of the room.
"Professor?"
Panic suddenly overtaking her, Hermione quickened her pace, trying to follow the sound. She only heard it once, though, and had trouble placing the soul from which it had been produced. "Professor? Where are you? Answer me!"
She heard the ruffling of cloth; something was moving. Hearing it off to the right, she quickly spun on her heel and began looking under desks. If he was being summoned again…
"Hermione?" a hoarse, tired, raw voice echoed, sounding strained.
Her anxiety returned. "Where are you? Tell me, I'll help you-"
"Go back to your common room," he said weakly, "Detention has been cancelled."
Anger settled on her face. Damn the stubborn man. "I'm not leaving until I find you. So either you can tell me, or I'll keep searching." She peered into the nook between the bookshelf and the wall, thinking he was hiding from her on purpose.
He cursed, sending Hermione another message. She was close. "Please, Professor," she begged, "tell me where I can find you. I want to help you- "
She turned past the corner of his sturdy oak desk, and found him huddled underneath it, curled away from her. His cloak covered his face; his body trembled in pain as he buried his head in his arms. "Oh dear…"
She crouched down before him, falling to her knees. Pushing his hair out of his face as she had the night before, she tried to read his features. Stained with fearful tears, his eyes were afraid; she'd never seen such panic in anyone's face before. They were no longer menacing; they were almost pleading.
"You didn't go to Dumbledore, did you?" she asked calmly. When he didn't even try to place a disapproving look upon his face, her alarm was renewed. He simply shook his head quickly no, fresh tears beginning to flow. Taking his face into her hands, she felt a shiver run through her arms and down her back. One message it sent her was of the immense torture he felt, of the sting of his mistakes; she could feel it searing off of him and running through her palm and fingertips. Another message was terror; he was deathly afraid of what was happening to him. He had no idea what was in store for him, and he apparently didn't want to die. She felt a pang of sorrow for him, and felt a need to help him.
The last feeling she felt was discomfort. He was obviously just as embarrassed as she was experiencing this kind of contact. He was a professor, she was a student; nothing could change that. Yet still; Poppy had never been practiced at advanced healing. This girl; this young, intelligent, quiet child was able to do greater things than Hogwarts' hired nurse.
"It's alright," she cooed, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as she tried to comfort him once more. "Calm down."
She muttered Latin healing spells again as he offered his arm to her, but the discomfort didn't recede; it had advanced ten times in intensity since the last night, and Snape tried to keep from breaking down right in front of her. She wouldn't know him to be weak; he was just as strong as anyone. He wouldn't let her think that he was pathetic.
Frowning slightly because her spells refused to work, she racked her mind for others she had learned. She knew advanced healing spells, but those involved using soul energy; she could be in bed for days if anything went wrong. But, still…
Sighing and making up her mind, she grabbed his hand. "Come out from under there," she said calmly, "I can't help you if you're hiding underneath your desk."
He grudgingly complied, and she pulled him next to her. Sliding tiredly to her side, he felt faintly light-headed; his head throbbed. He leaned into the crook of her neck, feeling as if he was going to loose consciousness, his stomach growing uneasy. He caught her off guard, but she didn't mind, knowing for this particular spell the Healer needed a great deal of physical contact with the patient because the Healer would be transferring some of their energy into the patient, and this would soothe the ache.
Snape felt embarrassed, truly stripped of all dignity; but he didn't care. He couldn't think. It didn't matter anymore.
Directing her energy at his body and focusing her gaze on his face, she slowly began to drain the positive energy from her body into him through his hands, which she had firmly clasped in her own, their palms touching. She felt him immediately relax his muscles, and felt him collapse completely onto her. His breathing slowed, became less labored, and his eyes closed. Within an hour, he was completely subdued and serene, and Hermione expected, asleep.
Grabbing her wand and muttering a spell to lighten his weight, she awkwardly cradled him against her and carried him towards the door she suspected lead to his private rooms. She felt guilty going into his quarters, but didn't know what else to do with him. She hoped he hadn't locked the door with any advanced spells, but after muttering a low 'Alohomora' the door lock slid open and she pushed the door on its hinges.
The room was dark, and after quietly whispering 'lumos' she lowered him gently onto his quilt, and grabbing a blanket off to the side on top of a small trunk, covered his shivering form. She felt she had done her part, and taking one last look at him, hurried off to find the Headmaster.
*
Hermione jogged down the corridor, finding nausea settling uneasily into her stomach. Slowing down in exhaustion and weakness, she raised a hand to lean against the wall to catch her breath. She peered around the corner of the wall, and found the stone gargoyle only a few feet away. She walked slowly over to it, and then found she didn't know the password.
"Oh come on, don't play this game with me," she muttered at it. "I've had a long day, and a crisis has arisen concerning one of the professors and I desperately need to speak with the headmaster."
It didn't budge.
She grunted and searched her brain for every type of Honeydukes sweet she could come up with. After listing off a good chunk that she new, she finally came up with 'Caramel Cats' and the gargoyle stepped aside, and she bolted up the gliding staircase.
She rapped on the door. "Headmaster?" she called, "Professor Dumbledore?"
She heard footsteps padding on soft carpet, and the door slowly slid open. "Yes, childing? Come in, please; I was just about to have some hot chocolate…" Professor Dumbledore offered.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I'm awfully sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass up that offer. Professor Snape has fallen ill, and I found him under his desk while attending my detention," she explained, and watched as Dumbledore's eyes became gradually more and more concerned. Dumbledore made a move to speak, but she cut him off before he could start to tell her to go back to her common room. "Please, Professor, he's passive right now, but I felt the need to inform you; I believe he was summoned again. He's in his private rooms; I didn't want to leave him alone in his classroom." She lowered her chin as her cheeks colored. She figured she would be scolded; a student never entered a professor's chambers without permission. She would probably be given even more detentions on top of what she already had.
To her complete surprise, however, Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you, Hermione," he said warmly, "for taking care of him in my absence. Pray tell, did this occur during any other time that you have been in his presence?" he asked quietly.
Hermione colored again. Snape would probably be furious at her for discharging such personal information, but the headmaster had every right to know. "Yes," she said sheepishly, "last night. He told me that he would see you, and, being a student, didn't feel it necessary or politically correct to escort him to your office door."
Dumbledore gave a heart-heavy sigh. "He's a masterful potions brewer, but a very stubborn man." He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for informing me, Hermione. I'll be sure to go and see how his condition stands."
"I hope he will be ok. Should I go back to the common room?"
"Yes," he replied, "I believe that that is an excellent idea."
Hermione fumbled with her fingers, "Euh… Professor?"
Dumbledore looked back from his descent down the staircase, "Yes?"
"Tell him… t-tell him I hope he feels better, and that I hope it doesn't h- happen again," she rushed.
Dumbledore smiled in response. "Thank you for caring, Hermione." She blushed again. "I know even though he doesn't show it most of the time, he greatly appreciates it."
He swept off towards the dungeons, and she blinked once; he had gone. Hermione hurried back to the common room, for a long night of restless tossing and little, or no, sleep.
*
Hermione slouched at the breakfast table that Saturday morning, and played with her crisp toast. She had completely forgotten about spreading jam or marmalade on the flaky bread, and was more interested in watching it crumble into miniscule pieces than actually eating it.
Harry stared at her after taking a huge bite of his biscuit. "Rough night, Hermione?" he said through a mouthful of butter and crumbs.
"Hmm," she answered, closing her eyes. Snape hadn't appeared at the high table, and she figured he was still recovering from the ordeal of the night before. Hermione had then slumped to the table with a damp spirit, and Ron and Harry had refrained from noticing for most of the meal, much to her pleasure.
Ron reached across the table and wrapped his fingers expertly around the rim of the saltshaker. "How was detention?" he asked.
Hermione closed her eyes and cradled her head on her arm. "All right," she lied.
Harry paused in his eating frenzy. "Are you coming down with something?"
"No, I'm ok. Just had a rough night, is all."
Harry and Ron looked up as the usual storm of owls fluttered into the Great Hall. Not expecting any mail, Hermione closed her eyes and propped her head in the crook of her arm. She was startled awake again, however, when an owl landed in her bowl of cereal. Surprised at even receiving any mail, she sat up quickly and untied the red ribbon, noting the Hogwarts seal on the front. Quickly sliding her finger underneath the flap, she hastily opened the letter. Inside, she found the untidy scrawl of the Headmaster.
1 Dear Ms. Granger-
I would like to have a meeting with you concerning your last detention. It has been brought to my attention that Professor Snape is currently in a state of illness, and I would like to speak with you to discuss arrangements. Please see me in my office after you finish with your meal. Thank you.
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hermione smirked. She looked up to find Harry and Ron staring at her with half-expectant gazes. "What?"
"What's it say?" asked Ron.
She threw it to him. "I have to see Dumbledore about my last detention."
"Last detention?" repeated Ron.
Harry leaned forward on the table on his elbows. "Was he summoned again?" he asked, a serious expression on his face.
Hermione looked down at her place, eyeing the few crumbs left upon the shiny surface. "Yes," she replied quietly.
Ron frowned as he read over the letter. "So… what does that have to do with your last detention?"
Harry sighed and buried his head in his hands, and Hermione shot him a disbelieving glare. "Ron, what are we going to do with you?"
"Is he all right at least?" Harry asked.
Hermione rubbed her neck with her hand. "I have no idea. He was in a poor state when I left yesterday." She pushed back from the table and stood, brushing some odd crumbs off of her robes here and there. "I'm going to go talk to Dumbledore. Meet me in the common room later?"
Harry nodded, and Ron stared back at her with a befuddled expression.
*
Hermione walked slowly towards Dumbledore's office, noticing the rising feeling of déjà vu in her chest. She was glad the password hadn't been changed since the last time she had been there, and knocked nervously on the door.
She heard the doorknob click, and Dumbledore's warm face appeared before her. "Ah, Ms. Granger," he said with a smile, "Thank you for coming on such notice. Was your meal enjoyable?"
"Yes, very much so, thank you," she lied.
"Come in, come in," he shooed her inside, and she took a seat timidly in front of his desk.
Dumbledore swept over to a boiling kettle on a shelf in his office. "I just made a pot of tea, would you like a mug?" he asked jovially.
She blushed, pushing some stray brown hair behind her ear. "No, thank you, Professor," she lied. She was so nervous, what if she spilled on herself and made a complete fool of herself?
Dumbledore seemed to sense this falsehood, because he ignored her answer and poured her a mug anyway. Setting it down before her, she colored but picked it up tentatively, and found herself enjoying the way her hands warmed upon contact.
He sat in his chair before her, sipping from his cup. "I spoke with Professor Snape yesterday."
Hermione looked up from her cup with wide-eyes. "Was he ok?" she asked, suddenly conscious of the way her voice quaked.
He smiled. "Yes, he was fine. He was a little shaken, but otherwise in good health. I want to congratulate you on your use of cool logic and skills in a time of need. That shows bravery and level-headedness."
"Thank you, Professor."
Dumbledore turned his wise eyes upon her. "Which brings me to another topic. Professor Snape has informed me that you performed very advanced magic in that classroom… would you like to tell me about it?"
Hermione finished her sip of tea quickly. "W-Why?" she asked, afraid of punishment.
He smiled. "You are not in trouble, Ms. Granger… I would simply like to know what types of magic you used and where you learned such magic that even Poppy Pomphrey could not perform."
She found her face blushing again. "It was in a book I was reading once… something about advanced magic healing. I found it very intriguing… it was something that I could master fairly easily without much practice. When Harry received bruises or cuts or scrapes from Quidditch, I was able to heal them with a touch, and without a wand. Harry never understood it, but he backed up my studies from that day on. Once Ron fell and broke his arm, and I was able to heal it without him going to the nurse. He was afraid of her asking too many questions."
She was then afraid she had said too much, but Dumbledore simply smiled, nodding for her to continue. He sat with his fingers intertwined in his lap, a thoughtful expression settled on his face.
"For months I would heal small injuries for close friends… like the Weasley twins, who constantly received minor maladies from Quidditch as well. I never thought twice about it. It was just something that I did. It wasn't something I practiced; it was just a part of me, like it had been there all along, I had just needed to acknowledge its existence and learn how to use it."
Dumbledore sipped his tea again, "And is this the type of magic you used to help Professor Snape the past two previous nights?"
Hermione hung her head. "Yes."
To her surprise, Dumbledore smiled again. "I'm very proud you, Ms. Granger. A very small percent of the wizarding population are born with the gift of healing."
"You think it's a gift?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, I think it is a very wonderful gift. What's more, you have a big heart, and you use your gift to help others, which makes it not only your gift, but also a gift to other people as well. I think Professor Snape would agree with me as well.
"Which leads me to the next order of business." Dumbledore stood and began to pace. "I believe Professor Snape told you that you had to fulfill three detentions for him?" Hermione nodded. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, your behavior the last two nights has made up for your deed and you are free to go, and you don't have to sit through another detention."
Hermione looked up at him again. "Really?"
Dumbledore turned to her again. "However, I have a job for you."
Hermione's gaze became serious again. "What would you like me to do?" she asked hesitantly.
Dumbledore sat again. "Professor Snape has informed me that he is in need of some ingredients to restock the potions' department." He took his mug again, "To retrieve these ingredients, he needs to go to Hogsmeade to the Apothecary, which is the only store close enough that carries these items. I would usually allow him to go alone, but since the previous night's happenings, I am slightly reluctant."
"So you want me to go with him, to keep an eye on him?" she asked.
Dumbledore looked up, amusement and knowledge present in his eyes. "You are very wise, Ms. Granger." She became embarrassed again. "Yes, that is exactly what I would like you to do. I really don't want to ruin your chance at a day at Hogsmeade, but Poppy has to stay on school grounds to tend to students, and incase of emergency, she is the hired Hogwarts nurse, so she can't leave. I need someone there who will watch over and take care of him, and you are the only witch in Hogwarts that can fulfill these requirements."
"You're trusting me with a Professor's life?" she asked skeptically.
"Yes, I trust you completely. Not all students are as reliable and caring as you are. This is a strong quality that the Sorting Hat looks for while deciding where to place them during the ceremony. These qualities are most prominent among Gryfindors. You happen to be one of them, and you also possess a keen power of healing. Therefore, you are the only one I can send with him."
Hermione didn't know whether to take this as a compliment or a curse. But before she could ponder too long, Dumbledore's voice cracked into her thoughts. "After he has made the necessary purchases, you are free to join your friends and have a normal visit."
Hermione stared into her hands. She had never taken anyone under her care before; she wouldn't know how to act. What if she did something wrong, and only made his condition worse?
"You don't have to do this Hermione, this is only a proposition. If you feel that it would put too much pressure upon you and you don't feel that you would be able to handle it, then you are free to decline the offer."
"No," she answered before she could stop herself, "I'll do it. I think I can handle it."
Dumbledore grinned. "Thank you very much, Hermione. You don't know how much this means to me, and if he knew, Professor Snape. Which reminds me," he crossed his hands upon his desk, "Professor Snape has no knowledge of this agreement. He thinks that you are simply doing this as your last detention. If he knew, I daresay he would fight me to the death, thinking he didn't need anyone's assistance. Please do not tell him of this arrangement."
"Oh, no, I won't, I promise," she answered.
"Good, good." He finished his mug, and a small house elf arrived to take it off to the kitchens. "I think that Hogsmeade opens to Hogwarts students in two hours. Please be ready to go fifteen minutes prior to that time, and meet Professor Snape in his classroom. He will escort you to Hogsmeade, most likely by apparition."
"All right." Hermione rose to leave. "Is there anything else, Professor?"
He smiled and stood to escort her to the door of his office, "No, I believe that is all there is to discuss. Thank you again, Hermione. It's a truly noble thing you are doing. And it also interests me that you didn't ask for anything in return for your services."
"Oh, no, Professor, that would be too selfish of me. I'm only doing a service to the school, and that deserves no reward. The only reward I will receive is the assurance that Professor Snape has a safe journey." She walked towards the door, and Dumbledore opened it before her, and she left.
"Hermione Granger," he muttered to himself after she had left, "A truly amazing child."
*
"Come now, Ms. Granger, don't waste my time. I want to make this trip as short as possible."
Hermione jogged after the sweeping black robes of her Potions Master, careful to make as little noise as possible. He seemed irritable since the night before, but she knew better than to question him. She followed him down several corridors, until they reached the front doors. He led her outside, and turned to her at the bottom of the steps. "We'll have to travel to the perimeter of the school to be able to apparate. Are you up for a walk?"
"Yes, sir," she answered mindfully.
The sun was unusually bright, especially since Professor Trelawny had predicted heavy rain all day. She followed him to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, close to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was outside tending to his vegetable patch when he saw her and gave her a friendly wave. She waved back, but Snape gave her a deadly glare, and she recoiled. He marched up to the trail they had walked their first year for a detention. "Follow me closely," he ordered, "I will not lie to you; the forest is dangerous."
With that, he turned and began to make his way through the forest.
Though it was complete daylight outside, very little sun made it through the canopy of leaves towering above them. Hermione found the shadows that hid behind the rocks and dead foliage and the deafening silence that coated them both foreboding, but said nothing of it. Snape would only sneer and tell her how childish she was being; he wouldn't care. She had the distinct feeling that they were being followed, yet she usually was always slightly paranoid in social situations.
She jumped several times when she heard rustling behind her, but was disappointed (or relieved) to find that nothing was there. Figuring it was her mind playing tricks on her, she continued without saying a word, walking in the cold footsteps of the mute man before her.
She could see streaks of light highlighting Snape's hair as he walked quickly down the dirt path. He didn't say anything to her, and she wondered it he had forgotten her presence. They walked for what seemed like hours but Hermione suspected it was only about half an hour that had passed. She reminded herself of the secret passageway Harry had used previous years, thinking of how much easier it would have been to use that instead…
Snape came to a halt in front of her. "We've come to a particularly difficult part of the path. Be careful."
She nodded and followed quietly. Snape held back undergrowth, unruly thorns and clinging bushes out of her way, and she found herself grateful but embarrassed. Several times, though, Hermione had to help dislodge angry twigs from his cloak. Sometimes he'd even had to help her over large logs that had fallen over the path.
"How much farther, Professor?"
Snape paused. "We should be halfway there."
Only halfway? her mind echoed. Her shoulders automatically slumped and she sighed. That tunnel that ran underneath the school soon seemed so much more appealing than this route…
Suddenly she felt as if the back of her robes was being yanked from behind. She yelped with a combination of fear and surprise and clutched at the back of Snape's cloak, clinging close to him. He spun around, alarmed. "What is it?" he asked urgently.
She still hung on to his cloak, "Something grabbed me, Professor," she answered timidly.
Snape looked down the path behind her as she looked up at him expectantly. His eyes quickly darkened. "Centaurs," he muttered with distaste.
Hermione turned her head back, her eyes falling on the sleek body of a horse, and the handsome face of a human. Another centaur stood next to him, eyeing her with fascination. Both had sleek horse-like bodies of shimmering chestnut and cream-colored fur, and amply built upper human bodies. Hermione found she suddenly had the urge to reach out and stroke the gleaming fur, but refrained. Snape didn't' seem to trust them, so neither did she.
"Ronan," Snape said curtly; she expected he was addressing the chestnut in front of her. "Goliath," he nodded to the other.
"Severus Snape," Ronan answered.
Snape sniggered with disgust. "Was it really necessary to startle my student like that? She doesn't like being here as it is."
1.1 That's an understatement, she thought to herself, suppressing a smirk.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave as soon as possible, Severus," Ronan said importantly.
Snape's lips curled in repugnance. "Why is that? You think you can start ordering me around?"
"No," Goliath answered for him, "It's just that theirs is a pure evil prowling here in the woods. We are unsure of what evil this is," he explained. "It has slain one of our brethren before today's sunrise. We awoke to find a corpse beside us."
Snape faltered. "Who?" he asked.
Ronan looked down at his hooves, "Samoan."
"I'm sorry," said Snape. "Didn't she just give birth to a young foal about a month ago?"
"Yes."
"Firenze also tells us he has seen them lurking in the shadows… most of the centaurs are staying in large groups in the forest to ensure safety in numbers… but we had to come and make sure you were informed. How far are you from your destination?" asked Goliath.
"I believe we are only halfway to the other side of the forest," Snape answered.
Goliath's eyes became concerned. "You won't make it to the other side," he whispered.
"We'll transport you," Ronan said quickly, "It will be harder for them to catch you while you ride upon our backs."
"Ronan," Goliath said warningly.
He looked back at him angrily. "We may not be great friends with the humans, but their blood runs with ours, and it is cruel to leave any animal in the woods with this type of evil stalks them. They are more vulnerable than we are." Snape seemed to suppress a snort at this; apparently he didn't consider himself vulnerable.
"Here," Ronan bent down upon his front knees, "We will aid you."
Hermione held back; she'd never ridden a horse before, never mind a centaur.
"Go on, Hermione," Snape gave her a small push, "Would you like help getting on?"
She nodded numbly, taking tentative steps closer, Snape's warm hand upon her shoulder.
He lifted her with ease up onto Ronan, and she sat dully on his powerful back. She could feel his muscles flexing as he stood. "You might want to hold on," the centaur said, and reached back to her hands, wrapping them around his waist. "Here, like this."
She linked her hands around his waist, holding on for dear life. Oh, the things she got herself into…
Goliath seemed much less happy to have a human as cargo. "Hurry up," he said, leaning down, "We haven't got all day. Our tribe needs us as well, you're not our only priority here."
Snape walked swiftly over to him and hoisted himself up, settling on his back as Hermione had. "Alright," said Ronan, "Let's go."
*
It was a bumpy ride to the edge of the forest, and Hermione hung on for dear life for fear of flying off. Though the ride was smooth and Ronan's even strides beneath her relaxing, she was beyond nervous. Snape seemed to be having a harder time with Goliath, however, because it seemed he was trying to buck Snape off, not caring if a random tree or branch hit him.
Hermione was very relieved when then came to a grand clearing, rolling hills and valleys dipping and rising before her eyes. Ronan stopped, and lowered himself to let her slip off of him. "Thank you very much," she said politely.
"You're very welcome," Ronan answered with a smile, "The pleasure was all mine."
Goliath and Snape came some time after, and Goliath let Snape climb off, or more like threw him. Goliath sneered at Snape, and Snape answered with an equally evil glare back. "Thank you, Goliath," he said threw gritted teeth.
Goliath snorted, crossing his arms and raising his nose above him. He turned quickly and galloped off into the brush again.
Ronan sighed. "You'll have to forgive him, he's slightly biased against humans. He hasn't had very many good past experiences with them."
"I can tell," snorted Snape.
He smiled at Hermione. "Well, I must be going back. I want to make sure my tribe is still intact. Have a safe journey."
"You too," she answered.
And with that, he trotted back into the depths of the forest, the sound of his hooves beating against the earth retreating swiftly.
Snape watched after him, and turned back to her once he had gone. "Well, now that we're beyond Hogwarts perimeters, we can Apparate off here." He extended his hand towards her. "Take my hand, and we'll be off."
She rested her hand in his palm and he pulled her closer to him, "Hold on tight, I don't want to lose you now."
As his fingers clasped around her hand and she felt a tingle run through her, her world suddenly dulled and became various shades of gray and melted, her sight fading into darkness…
There, the first installment. I know it seems like ANOTHER boring going- nowhere chapter, but just… give me some time. I PROMISE the next part will have EVERYTING you people have been waiting for. I absolutely promise. If it doesn't, you can give me detention with Snape and I'll help Hagrid tend to his rabid beasts :ahem: at his hut. And I'll take this story off. Really, I will. Just, leave a review. Please? Pretty Please?
Thanks for reading!
~Shorty