Chapter 12
A.N.; you might think you have already read this and you're done with it, but a chapter of two pages is not a chapter in my opinion (when it comes to this story, for the other one I'll more then easily settle with a chapter of a page and a half) so here is the longer, full, version. You can skip the beginning.
'Our deal is off, but I will still have you, little mudblood!' Malfoy sneered. He was lowering himself down to her when a loud rattle of stones behind them made him turn his attention from his prey. A secret passage way had opened. Professor Snape was standing there, with Draco besides him, wands discretely at the ready.
'Now, what did I say about leaving Professor Granger alone, Lucius?' Snape drawled. With a few strides he was right besides Malfoy, with Draco close on his heals. 'Draco, I hope you can escort your father to the front door; he seems to have forgotten the way.'
Lucius gave a faint snort. 'Since when does the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts take orders from a teacher?'
'Since now. I'm Deputy Headmaster, Lucius.' Snape's lip curled.
'What about Decree Twenty-Five?'
'The latest decree, Thirty-Four I believe, limited the High Inquisitor's power. He has to report all actions to the Headmaster or Deputy Headmaster.' Snape cited, his black eyes narrowed. 'I think your visit ended some time ago, Lucius.'
'Defending the mudblood wench, Severus? Why? Is she your Transfiguration mistress?' Malfoy's voice was silk and it chilled Hermione's blood. However, it did not seem to affect the others. Snape raised an elegant eyebrow at Malfoy's comment, but made no comment. Draco remained silent.
'She's not worth it, Severus. This trollop isn't good for anything.' Hermione's state of frozen shock suddenly erupted into fury, at the situation, at being saved by Snape yet again, at the terrible names Malfoy kept throwing at her, and at the sheer exhaustion she felt in every fiber of her being. She bolted upright and spit Malfoy in the face.
Malfoy's reaction to her assault was instantantaneous. He hurled her at the door, slamming her hard against the wooden surface. She almost passed from the pain she received upon impact.
Before Malfoy could hex her again, Snape's wand was pointing into Malfoy's face. 'It is apparent you should leave, Malfoy.' Snape sneered into the other wizard's face.
This time, Malfoy did not respond. Instead, he turned to Hermione, and whispered to her in a lascivious tone. 'Until next time, mudblood.' With another muttered word from him, the door opened. He straightened his robes and left, his son escorting him as Snape had instructed.
Once the Malfoys were out of the classroom and the doors again closed, Hermione let her breath out. She staggered down to the door, a flood of tears already pouring down her cheeks.
Snape lowered himself to her level to examined her state. There were some magical burns on her chin, some bruises from her falls, and raw flesh where the ropes had cut into her flesh.
'You should go see Madame Pomfrey.' Snape said, sounding mildly concerned.
'I can't.' she replied tersely. At his hippogriff-like stony stare, she felt obligated to elaborate. 'I've been experimenting with potions of questionable origin. She would be able to tell and she wouldn't be happy. I'll just heal my wounds myself.'
'Don't be thick. Come. Can you stand?'
She tried to get her feet under her, but cried out as pain shot through her ankle. She must have sprained it at some point.
'I see you cannot.' Snape drawled. With a graceful swish and flick of his wand, he had her levitating in the air.
'Professor Snape, I appreciate your help, but would you please put me down.' Hermione protested. It felt awkward to float like that in the air; no, wait, she actually found it quite scary. She knew there was no reason for her to fear he would drop her. Still, it was unsettling, and when he did not release the charm, she insisted. 'Professor, I insist you put me down at once.'
In response, he raised an eyebrow. With another movement of his wand, he had her in standing position, her feet touching the floor as he ended the charm. The moment it stopped, Hermione fell to the ground in a heap once again. It was obvious she was in pain.
'Are you hurt?' There was an edge to his voice.
'That was cruel.' She whimpered through clenched teeth.
This time he did not bother with a levitating charm, instead, he bent down and picked her up. He should have done this from the beginning, Hermione thought. After all, she was a muggleborn, and even after so many years in the magic world, some things never would come natural to her. One of them appeared to be floating in mid-air with nothing supporting her. After all, she wasn't even good at flying on a broom.
This time. Hermione did not protest. She just stayed in his arms, trying to hold her sobs in. Snape got her through his office and into his rooms. The journey through the hearth was quite uncomfortable, but he held tight and didn't drop her. Once there, he placed her on the sofa and examined her injuries a little closer.
They weren't major. He had interrupted Malfoy in time.
Hermione was very quiet all this time. In truth she had no idea what to say under these circumstances. Snape's conduct was unexpected. He wasn't being overtly nice, but he was being very careful with her injuries. His touch was gentle. He looked so absorbed, like when working on a complicated potion. She almost chuckled at this thought, but controlled herself. When Snape lifted his gaze to her face Hermione's large brown eyes greeted him, a smile playing on her lips. He arched an eyebrow at this but she just turned her head.
Hermione didn't know what to say at the moment. Some expression of gratitude was in order but she couldn't really put it in words. She had never thought she would be so grateful towards Snape, and yet this wasn't the first time Snape had saved her. Things he had done in her school years could have been counted as saving, and yet on those occasions it was mainly directed at Harry and she just happened to be along for the ride. This time, however, Snape had played a very active role in her rescue, a role that might leave him with a bit of a backache, really.
Her gaze was now on the steadily crackling fire. For once it wasn't purple or blue flames, but looked more real, though this one was a bit more towards lemon yellow than a straightforward orange. Above the mantle, there was a painting but with the dim light you could only see the eyes. And for all Hermione could see they were onyx black and glaring at her. She tried to see more of her surroundings, unfortunatly, the couch faced away from most of the room.
'Are you feeling dizzy anymore, Granger?' Snape said loudly, breaking into her thought Lost in her reverie she hadn't heard him the first two times he asked her something.
'Umh, no, not really,' but when she tried to shift her weight on her right shoulder she flinched, 'I mean,'
Snape didn't bother to listen to her ramblings. He placed a cup with some kind of potion in it in her hands and then stood up. He moved over to a set of shelves against the wall. They had been covered by ragged draping so she had not noticed the place until then. It was filled with potions, probably of the more useful sort, she mused. He took out some vials and jars.
'Drink the potion.' he ordered. It was a common wigenweld healing potion, yet it was very powerful. She screwed up her face at the taste. It wasn't one of the most awful-tasting potions, but it wasn't a pleasure to sip nonetheless. Hermione turned to see what Snape was doing with the vials; she was surprised to see him passing right through what seemed like a solid fallen piece of furniture. This isn't normal, she thought to herself. He's not a ghost or anything of that sort but she was sure he had passed right through it.
Suddenly she heard a noise from somewhere behind the couch. It sounded like a door opening.
'Merlin, I hate the architects who built Hogwarts. This room is impossibly high. It took me ages to climb all the stairs.' Hermione recognised the voice as belonging to Draco Malfoy. A rather out of breath Draco entered the room.
Using his most mocking tone, Snape said, 'There is the hearth, you know.'
'Your office is warded and I didn't think it wise to break the spells.' Draco countered.
'Why did you come her any way?' he said, his lips turning up in his typical sneer.
'To tell you some things Father just confessed to me about Granger.'
For a moment Snape's eyes met with Hermione's. Malfoy had not yet noticed her presence in the room and for the moment she was not going to reveal it.
Snape eyed Malfoy warily. 'What business could be between Professor Granger and your father?'
'For all the galleons in your vault you wouldn't believe the mess Granger has landed herself in.' Draco paused in thought. 'It seems that Granger has been involved in some of father's businesses for some time. To make a long story very short, he told me she broke some kind of agreement between them. You know how cross father gets when somebody disobeys him.'
'Yeah, I have some idea about his reaction.' Snape shrugged.
'No need to be sarcastic, Severus, I know to keep it all to myself when in your company, so, as I was saying, since she was of no use to him now that she was no longer cooperating, Father decided to get rid of her, or maybe teach her a lesson, I'm not sure. But the interesting thing is-he sent her to Azkaban.' Draco said in a hollow voice.
'From what I know she was sent to Azkaban because of some illegal books and equipment stored in her house.' Snape eyed Hermione, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as Malfoy continued.
Draco stopped pacing the room and fixed Snape with a penetrating stare. 'Yeah, but how do you think the Ministry found about about them? Father tipped them off. From what he let slip, I believe most of the things stored in her house came from father's private collection.'
'Interesting bit of information.' Snape said, his dark eyes glittering.
Hermione eyed him apprehensively. She had not told him or anyone else about her business with Malfoy Sr. She had hoped she could keep this a secret. However, since Malfoy had poked his aristocratic nose in her business at Hogwarts it seemed impossible for it not to come to the surface.
Malfoy seemed to move forward but he hit something. 'What the... Gallopin' Gorgons!' he exclaimed 'What's this doing in the middle of the room? I haven't been fooled by this illusion in years.' he said, straightening up...then he lifted his head up and looked straight at Snape, a suspicious look on his face. 'There's someone else here, someone who buys your cunning little spells.'
Trying to rid herself of her first impression of this place she looked at it again. And it was true, there was a rather strong illusion charm to make the place look deserted, probably in case anybody walked to his room thought the entrance Draco had just moments ago. The objects weren't fallen to the ground like she had first thought but neatly stacked on shelves and tables.
Snape gave him a bored look.
'So, who do you have around Snape?' Draco asked quite smug. 'Anyone you'd like me to meet.' His tone was positively glowing.
'We already know each other all too well, Mr. Malfoy.' Hermione said, pushing herself into a standing position, casting him a glacially cool look. He was too much like his father for her comfort and it wasn't that easy to play this role.
'Granger. What are you doing here?' he asked with genuine curiosity.
'Snape's patching me up' Hermione admitted rather sulkily.
Draco hiked his eyebrow, but his face remained impassive. 'Do tell...I guess I should let the good doctor get back to attending to his....patient.'
Malfoy had poured himself a glass of scotch while talking to Snape about his father. He seemed very at home in Snape's quarters. 'Well, I think I'll leave, Severus. It's almost time for dinner.'
Draco said, taking a sip from his glass. 'Wouldn't want to miss dinner.' He added, gulping what was left in the glass. At the door, he turned and looked back.
'Don't forget about "the falcon hunt".' With that he left the two looking at each other, dazzled. Without breaking eye contact, Snape asked her:
'Are you feeling better now, Miss Granger?' the way she was standing there, staring back at him, made her look like a child that had done something bad waiting for punishment. And all that made him call her "Miss". However, it all sounded somewhat affectionate...no, it couldn't be...
'I'm fine, just very tired. So if you'll excuse me...' Hermione replied. She would have continued if it wasn't for another potion that Snape had poured down her throat at that moment. This one had a truly awful taste--it stung moving down her throat, making it impossible for her to speak. A shiver went down her back.
Snape applied some arnica tincture on her wounds. Once it seemed to take effect, he took out his wand from his sleeve and applied some healing charms. When he moved to heal her almost broken ankle, Hermione tensed, remembering Gilderoy Lockhart's performance in deboning Harry in their second year, but, as it turned out, Snape was not only better at dueling than Lockhart, but also a much better healer.
Hermione no longer felt any pain at all. Not even Poppy would have done a better job. He must have practiced this hidden talent on himself, she thought.
After he applied a series of concealing spells that totally masked the bruises, he gazed at her for a moment.
'You are going to be alright now.' He told her evenly.
'Fine,.. yes...' Hermione stuttered 'Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it, Professor' she managed to thank him, though not without turning pink to the tips of her ears.
He turned around to return the vials to their rightful place. 'I believe it would be wise to make your way to the dining room.' Snape said in a firm manner that left no room for arguments. 'You most certainly need a good meal by now.'
When Hermione entered her room it was well past curfew; she had paced the corridors in long strides for hours, trying to label and categorize each and every one of the strange events that had happened in such quick succession over the past few hours. Not in her wildest dreams did she expect this weekend to turn out so disastrous.
When she reached her bed, it did not take her much time to fall into a deep sleep. Her exhausted body couldn't take much more of this. She had been feeling weary for some time and her mind also needed a break. She felt Crookshanks jump on her bed and slowly make his way up the duvet until he was sitting behind her. If she were less tired she would have made the effort to push him off her pillow but it really didn't matter now.
She felt the cat sniff her neck, tickle the sensible skin behind her ear.
She sucked in her breath as it touched a sensitive spot. She heard a chuckle from behind. Startled, she practically jumped off her side to face what was behind her. She couldn't have been more surprised of what she saw. Ron was sitting there with a boyish grin on his handsome face.
Hermione slowly lifted her left arm to touch his face, to see if he was for real. Ron caught her arm in his and he lifted her arm, gently tugging on her sleeve revealing the soft skin and tenderly brought his mouth to place a soft kiss on the underside of her arm.
When his lips touched her skin pain surged through her every pore, bringing tears to her eyes. She screamed at the top of her lungs, waking up from yet another awful dream. The pain did not vanish together with the spectre of her lost lover, it instead only intensified.
Hermione slowly tugged at her nightshirt's sleeve. In the flickering light of a candle she had not extinguished, she revealed the underside of her forearm. On the white, pale skin the ever-feared dark mark was clearly visible. An audible gasp escaped her clenched jaw.
She nearly fainted at seeing the hideous skull with the ugly serpent coming out of it's mouth. The excruciating pain emanating from it, speeding throughout her entire body, kept her awake.
Hermione scanned the mark with a critical eye. What she could not see at first in the dim light was that it wasn't really like a tattoo but more like a very peculiar bruise, something like a blood clot just below the skin.
She scrambled to her feet, wanting to get her wand from her robes, but ended up in a heap on the floor. 'What's happening?' she whispered. She sat, curled up in a ball on the floor, collecting her thoughts as her mind cleared from the spell and the shock. Sensibility, reason, and logic all came back to her, calming her down and hardening her heart.
Her knees felt wobbly and she propped herself on the windowsill. She pressed her forehead to the glass. It was cold and it eased her newly forming headache. The grounds were quiet and scarcely lit up by the moon hidden behind dark clouds. She was bewildered when she caught sight of a dark hooded figure moving across the grounds, towards the Forbidden Forest. A gale of wind caught of guard the person and in the pale gleam of the moon she saw blond traces from under the hood. What did it mean? Hermione asked herself.
The Great Hall was packed with students commenting on the latest events. All over the place, small groups were huddled over news papers commenting in hushed tones the going-on's at the ministry. As Hermione walked over to her place at the teachers table, the sight made her remember her school years, the time when the second war had begun.
Her sleep had been restless, and on the way to the Great hall she had managed to get caught by a moving staircase twice. She seated herself and quietly started her breakfast. Not even at the arrival of the post owls did Hermione look up. When a very close flapping of wings and the weight of an owl on her shoulder startled her out of dreamy state. She turned around to see the so familiar snowy owl. Hermione took the message of her feet and warmly petted Hedwig.
Hermione untied the message and unrolled the small scroll. On the parchment it read:
Hermione, would you kindly look to your right? HP
Startled, she did as instructed, only to find herself looking at the amused face of Harry Potter.
'Good morning, Hermione. You look terrible, you know?' Harry joked.
'Gee, thanks Harry,' she replied, taking a last sip of orange juice before the food disappeared and her chalice was magically emptied. She sighed. 'I've had a bit more trouble than I can handle right now. That's all.' She whispered, but tried to cheer herself up, or at least to look like. 'Sorry I didn't notice you. What brings you here?' she asked, feeling herself warm a little in the presence of her old friend.
'You wouldn't have noticed trolls tap-dancing in front of you this morning, would you?' Harry laughed. Then his tone turned serious. 'There are things I wish to sort out with Dumbledore, and I also have classes to teach.' When he saw the frown on Hermione's face, he quietly mumbled that Molly had joined her husband for a couple of days. There were all sorts of things to sort up after the recent tragedy. They both sat in silence for a few moments, uncomfortable with acknowledging the reason for his presence.
'So, you're here to teach Muggle Studies?' Hermione raised an eyebrow.
'Cut me some slack, Hermione. I may have never set foot in that classroom, but I've lived half of my life as a muggle.' Harry exclaimed. 'And anyway, Remus asked me to help him make a little demonstration of duelling.' He paused and looked at the vacant seat besides him. 'He's thinking of starting the duelling class again.' Harry finished.
'Shouldn't be much more successful then Lockhart's attempt.' Snape commented dryly as he passed by.
'Greasy git, still sneaking on everybody.' Harry muttered, but didn't say Snape mustn't have heard, as he kept walking. Harry bit his tongue from further comment. Hermione suspected he might have held his tongue because of her involvement.
Harry glanced towards the four tables, the place was almost deserted by now.
'Well, let's get going before we're late for class.' Harry smiled, offering a hand to her.
They walked together along the corridors talking animatedly.
'And where's Mel?' Hermione asked him as they turned a corner.
'I left her with Albus, I bet she's going to wreck his office. But, last time I checked he quite enjoyed seeing all his gadgets smash to smithereens.' Harry said with dry humor. 'It's settled that she'll stay with the other teacher in the staff room while I'm teaching. So you can see her later.' Harry informed her.
Hermione guided Harry to his classroom, as he hadn't bothered to find it himself. Once there, she left to go to the headmasters office. She wanted to speak to him. She had to tell him about what she had discovered. Once in front the griffin, her determination to tell Dumbledore about the dark mark had evaporated. She paced in front of the statue for some minutes. How could she go in there and tell the old man about the dark mark? She thought to herself. She didn't even know herself how it had appeared there. She had wracked her mind all night as to how it had materialized on her left arm, every supposition more preposterous then the other. She stopped one more time in front of the stone griffin deciding between entering the headmasters office and telling him everything, or just turning away and letting Dumbledore find it out anyway one way or another.
Just as she was about to start back towards the Transfiguration classroom the griffinÅ turned to reveal the staircase leading up to the Headmaster's door. She dutifully walked up and knocked on the door. It swung open, to reveal Dumbledore sitting at his desk with the little red head girl sitting on his office playing with the strange silver instruments while talking animatedly with the headmaster. Dumbledore peered up at her, his blue eyes sparkling enough to rival the silver streaming from his desk.
A.N. please reeeeeeeeview.
A.N.; you might think you have already read this and you're done with it, but a chapter of two pages is not a chapter in my opinion (when it comes to this story, for the other one I'll more then easily settle with a chapter of a page and a half) so here is the longer, full, version. You can skip the beginning.
'Our deal is off, but I will still have you, little mudblood!' Malfoy sneered. He was lowering himself down to her when a loud rattle of stones behind them made him turn his attention from his prey. A secret passage way had opened. Professor Snape was standing there, with Draco besides him, wands discretely at the ready.
'Now, what did I say about leaving Professor Granger alone, Lucius?' Snape drawled. With a few strides he was right besides Malfoy, with Draco close on his heals. 'Draco, I hope you can escort your father to the front door; he seems to have forgotten the way.'
Lucius gave a faint snort. 'Since when does the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts take orders from a teacher?'
'Since now. I'm Deputy Headmaster, Lucius.' Snape's lip curled.
'What about Decree Twenty-Five?'
'The latest decree, Thirty-Four I believe, limited the High Inquisitor's power. He has to report all actions to the Headmaster or Deputy Headmaster.' Snape cited, his black eyes narrowed. 'I think your visit ended some time ago, Lucius.'
'Defending the mudblood wench, Severus? Why? Is she your Transfiguration mistress?' Malfoy's voice was silk and it chilled Hermione's blood. However, it did not seem to affect the others. Snape raised an elegant eyebrow at Malfoy's comment, but made no comment. Draco remained silent.
'She's not worth it, Severus. This trollop isn't good for anything.' Hermione's state of frozen shock suddenly erupted into fury, at the situation, at being saved by Snape yet again, at the terrible names Malfoy kept throwing at her, and at the sheer exhaustion she felt in every fiber of her being. She bolted upright and spit Malfoy in the face.
Malfoy's reaction to her assault was instantantaneous. He hurled her at the door, slamming her hard against the wooden surface. She almost passed from the pain she received upon impact.
Before Malfoy could hex her again, Snape's wand was pointing into Malfoy's face. 'It is apparent you should leave, Malfoy.' Snape sneered into the other wizard's face.
This time, Malfoy did not respond. Instead, he turned to Hermione, and whispered to her in a lascivious tone. 'Until next time, mudblood.' With another muttered word from him, the door opened. He straightened his robes and left, his son escorting him as Snape had instructed.
Once the Malfoys were out of the classroom and the doors again closed, Hermione let her breath out. She staggered down to the door, a flood of tears already pouring down her cheeks.
Snape lowered himself to her level to examined her state. There were some magical burns on her chin, some bruises from her falls, and raw flesh where the ropes had cut into her flesh.
'You should go see Madame Pomfrey.' Snape said, sounding mildly concerned.
'I can't.' she replied tersely. At his hippogriff-like stony stare, she felt obligated to elaborate. 'I've been experimenting with potions of questionable origin. She would be able to tell and she wouldn't be happy. I'll just heal my wounds myself.'
'Don't be thick. Come. Can you stand?'
She tried to get her feet under her, but cried out as pain shot through her ankle. She must have sprained it at some point.
'I see you cannot.' Snape drawled. With a graceful swish and flick of his wand, he had her levitating in the air.
'Professor Snape, I appreciate your help, but would you please put me down.' Hermione protested. It felt awkward to float like that in the air; no, wait, she actually found it quite scary. She knew there was no reason for her to fear he would drop her. Still, it was unsettling, and when he did not release the charm, she insisted. 'Professor, I insist you put me down at once.'
In response, he raised an eyebrow. With another movement of his wand, he had her in standing position, her feet touching the floor as he ended the charm. The moment it stopped, Hermione fell to the ground in a heap once again. It was obvious she was in pain.
'Are you hurt?' There was an edge to his voice.
'That was cruel.' She whimpered through clenched teeth.
This time he did not bother with a levitating charm, instead, he bent down and picked her up. He should have done this from the beginning, Hermione thought. After all, she was a muggleborn, and even after so many years in the magic world, some things never would come natural to her. One of them appeared to be floating in mid-air with nothing supporting her. After all, she wasn't even good at flying on a broom.
This time. Hermione did not protest. She just stayed in his arms, trying to hold her sobs in. Snape got her through his office and into his rooms. The journey through the hearth was quite uncomfortable, but he held tight and didn't drop her. Once there, he placed her on the sofa and examined her injuries a little closer.
They weren't major. He had interrupted Malfoy in time.
Hermione was very quiet all this time. In truth she had no idea what to say under these circumstances. Snape's conduct was unexpected. He wasn't being overtly nice, but he was being very careful with her injuries. His touch was gentle. He looked so absorbed, like when working on a complicated potion. She almost chuckled at this thought, but controlled herself. When Snape lifted his gaze to her face Hermione's large brown eyes greeted him, a smile playing on her lips. He arched an eyebrow at this but she just turned her head.
Hermione didn't know what to say at the moment. Some expression of gratitude was in order but she couldn't really put it in words. She had never thought she would be so grateful towards Snape, and yet this wasn't the first time Snape had saved her. Things he had done in her school years could have been counted as saving, and yet on those occasions it was mainly directed at Harry and she just happened to be along for the ride. This time, however, Snape had played a very active role in her rescue, a role that might leave him with a bit of a backache, really.
Her gaze was now on the steadily crackling fire. For once it wasn't purple or blue flames, but looked more real, though this one was a bit more towards lemon yellow than a straightforward orange. Above the mantle, there was a painting but with the dim light you could only see the eyes. And for all Hermione could see they were onyx black and glaring at her. She tried to see more of her surroundings, unfortunatly, the couch faced away from most of the room.
'Are you feeling dizzy anymore, Granger?' Snape said loudly, breaking into her thought Lost in her reverie she hadn't heard him the first two times he asked her something.
'Umh, no, not really,' but when she tried to shift her weight on her right shoulder she flinched, 'I mean,'
Snape didn't bother to listen to her ramblings. He placed a cup with some kind of potion in it in her hands and then stood up. He moved over to a set of shelves against the wall. They had been covered by ragged draping so she had not noticed the place until then. It was filled with potions, probably of the more useful sort, she mused. He took out some vials and jars.
'Drink the potion.' he ordered. It was a common wigenweld healing potion, yet it was very powerful. She screwed up her face at the taste. It wasn't one of the most awful-tasting potions, but it wasn't a pleasure to sip nonetheless. Hermione turned to see what Snape was doing with the vials; she was surprised to see him passing right through what seemed like a solid fallen piece of furniture. This isn't normal, she thought to herself. He's not a ghost or anything of that sort but she was sure he had passed right through it.
Suddenly she heard a noise from somewhere behind the couch. It sounded like a door opening.
'Merlin, I hate the architects who built Hogwarts. This room is impossibly high. It took me ages to climb all the stairs.' Hermione recognised the voice as belonging to Draco Malfoy. A rather out of breath Draco entered the room.
Using his most mocking tone, Snape said, 'There is the hearth, you know.'
'Your office is warded and I didn't think it wise to break the spells.' Draco countered.
'Why did you come her any way?' he said, his lips turning up in his typical sneer.
'To tell you some things Father just confessed to me about Granger.'
For a moment Snape's eyes met with Hermione's. Malfoy had not yet noticed her presence in the room and for the moment she was not going to reveal it.
Snape eyed Malfoy warily. 'What business could be between Professor Granger and your father?'
'For all the galleons in your vault you wouldn't believe the mess Granger has landed herself in.' Draco paused in thought. 'It seems that Granger has been involved in some of father's businesses for some time. To make a long story very short, he told me she broke some kind of agreement between them. You know how cross father gets when somebody disobeys him.'
'Yeah, I have some idea about his reaction.' Snape shrugged.
'No need to be sarcastic, Severus, I know to keep it all to myself when in your company, so, as I was saying, since she was of no use to him now that she was no longer cooperating, Father decided to get rid of her, or maybe teach her a lesson, I'm not sure. But the interesting thing is-he sent her to Azkaban.' Draco said in a hollow voice.
'From what I know she was sent to Azkaban because of some illegal books and equipment stored in her house.' Snape eyed Hermione, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as Malfoy continued.
Draco stopped pacing the room and fixed Snape with a penetrating stare. 'Yeah, but how do you think the Ministry found about about them? Father tipped them off. From what he let slip, I believe most of the things stored in her house came from father's private collection.'
'Interesting bit of information.' Snape said, his dark eyes glittering.
Hermione eyed him apprehensively. She had not told him or anyone else about her business with Malfoy Sr. She had hoped she could keep this a secret. However, since Malfoy had poked his aristocratic nose in her business at Hogwarts it seemed impossible for it not to come to the surface.
Malfoy seemed to move forward but he hit something. 'What the... Gallopin' Gorgons!' he exclaimed 'What's this doing in the middle of the room? I haven't been fooled by this illusion in years.' he said, straightening up...then he lifted his head up and looked straight at Snape, a suspicious look on his face. 'There's someone else here, someone who buys your cunning little spells.'
Trying to rid herself of her first impression of this place she looked at it again. And it was true, there was a rather strong illusion charm to make the place look deserted, probably in case anybody walked to his room thought the entrance Draco had just moments ago. The objects weren't fallen to the ground like she had first thought but neatly stacked on shelves and tables.
Snape gave him a bored look.
'So, who do you have around Snape?' Draco asked quite smug. 'Anyone you'd like me to meet.' His tone was positively glowing.
'We already know each other all too well, Mr. Malfoy.' Hermione said, pushing herself into a standing position, casting him a glacially cool look. He was too much like his father for her comfort and it wasn't that easy to play this role.
'Granger. What are you doing here?' he asked with genuine curiosity.
'Snape's patching me up' Hermione admitted rather sulkily.
Draco hiked his eyebrow, but his face remained impassive. 'Do tell...I guess I should let the good doctor get back to attending to his....patient.'
Malfoy had poured himself a glass of scotch while talking to Snape about his father. He seemed very at home in Snape's quarters. 'Well, I think I'll leave, Severus. It's almost time for dinner.'
Draco said, taking a sip from his glass. 'Wouldn't want to miss dinner.' He added, gulping what was left in the glass. At the door, he turned and looked back.
'Don't forget about "the falcon hunt".' With that he left the two looking at each other, dazzled. Without breaking eye contact, Snape asked her:
'Are you feeling better now, Miss Granger?' the way she was standing there, staring back at him, made her look like a child that had done something bad waiting for punishment. And all that made him call her "Miss". However, it all sounded somewhat affectionate...no, it couldn't be...
'I'm fine, just very tired. So if you'll excuse me...' Hermione replied. She would have continued if it wasn't for another potion that Snape had poured down her throat at that moment. This one had a truly awful taste--it stung moving down her throat, making it impossible for her to speak. A shiver went down her back.
Snape applied some arnica tincture on her wounds. Once it seemed to take effect, he took out his wand from his sleeve and applied some healing charms. When he moved to heal her almost broken ankle, Hermione tensed, remembering Gilderoy Lockhart's performance in deboning Harry in their second year, but, as it turned out, Snape was not only better at dueling than Lockhart, but also a much better healer.
Hermione no longer felt any pain at all. Not even Poppy would have done a better job. He must have practiced this hidden talent on himself, she thought.
After he applied a series of concealing spells that totally masked the bruises, he gazed at her for a moment.
'You are going to be alright now.' He told her evenly.
'Fine,.. yes...' Hermione stuttered 'Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it, Professor' she managed to thank him, though not without turning pink to the tips of her ears.
He turned around to return the vials to their rightful place. 'I believe it would be wise to make your way to the dining room.' Snape said in a firm manner that left no room for arguments. 'You most certainly need a good meal by now.'
When Hermione entered her room it was well past curfew; she had paced the corridors in long strides for hours, trying to label and categorize each and every one of the strange events that had happened in such quick succession over the past few hours. Not in her wildest dreams did she expect this weekend to turn out so disastrous.
When she reached her bed, it did not take her much time to fall into a deep sleep. Her exhausted body couldn't take much more of this. She had been feeling weary for some time and her mind also needed a break. She felt Crookshanks jump on her bed and slowly make his way up the duvet until he was sitting behind her. If she were less tired she would have made the effort to push him off her pillow but it really didn't matter now.
She felt the cat sniff her neck, tickle the sensible skin behind her ear.
She sucked in her breath as it touched a sensitive spot. She heard a chuckle from behind. Startled, she practically jumped off her side to face what was behind her. She couldn't have been more surprised of what she saw. Ron was sitting there with a boyish grin on his handsome face.
Hermione slowly lifted her left arm to touch his face, to see if he was for real. Ron caught her arm in his and he lifted her arm, gently tugging on her sleeve revealing the soft skin and tenderly brought his mouth to place a soft kiss on the underside of her arm.
When his lips touched her skin pain surged through her every pore, bringing tears to her eyes. She screamed at the top of her lungs, waking up from yet another awful dream. The pain did not vanish together with the spectre of her lost lover, it instead only intensified.
Hermione slowly tugged at her nightshirt's sleeve. In the flickering light of a candle she had not extinguished, she revealed the underside of her forearm. On the white, pale skin the ever-feared dark mark was clearly visible. An audible gasp escaped her clenched jaw.
She nearly fainted at seeing the hideous skull with the ugly serpent coming out of it's mouth. The excruciating pain emanating from it, speeding throughout her entire body, kept her awake.
Hermione scanned the mark with a critical eye. What she could not see at first in the dim light was that it wasn't really like a tattoo but more like a very peculiar bruise, something like a blood clot just below the skin.
She scrambled to her feet, wanting to get her wand from her robes, but ended up in a heap on the floor. 'What's happening?' she whispered. She sat, curled up in a ball on the floor, collecting her thoughts as her mind cleared from the spell and the shock. Sensibility, reason, and logic all came back to her, calming her down and hardening her heart.
Her knees felt wobbly and she propped herself on the windowsill. She pressed her forehead to the glass. It was cold and it eased her newly forming headache. The grounds were quiet and scarcely lit up by the moon hidden behind dark clouds. She was bewildered when she caught sight of a dark hooded figure moving across the grounds, towards the Forbidden Forest. A gale of wind caught of guard the person and in the pale gleam of the moon she saw blond traces from under the hood. What did it mean? Hermione asked herself.
The Great Hall was packed with students commenting on the latest events. All over the place, small groups were huddled over news papers commenting in hushed tones the going-on's at the ministry. As Hermione walked over to her place at the teachers table, the sight made her remember her school years, the time when the second war had begun.
Her sleep had been restless, and on the way to the Great hall she had managed to get caught by a moving staircase twice. She seated herself and quietly started her breakfast. Not even at the arrival of the post owls did Hermione look up. When a very close flapping of wings and the weight of an owl on her shoulder startled her out of dreamy state. She turned around to see the so familiar snowy owl. Hermione took the message of her feet and warmly petted Hedwig.
Hermione untied the message and unrolled the small scroll. On the parchment it read:
Hermione, would you kindly look to your right? HP
Startled, she did as instructed, only to find herself looking at the amused face of Harry Potter.
'Good morning, Hermione. You look terrible, you know?' Harry joked.
'Gee, thanks Harry,' she replied, taking a last sip of orange juice before the food disappeared and her chalice was magically emptied. She sighed. 'I've had a bit more trouble than I can handle right now. That's all.' She whispered, but tried to cheer herself up, or at least to look like. 'Sorry I didn't notice you. What brings you here?' she asked, feeling herself warm a little in the presence of her old friend.
'You wouldn't have noticed trolls tap-dancing in front of you this morning, would you?' Harry laughed. Then his tone turned serious. 'There are things I wish to sort out with Dumbledore, and I also have classes to teach.' When he saw the frown on Hermione's face, he quietly mumbled that Molly had joined her husband for a couple of days. There were all sorts of things to sort up after the recent tragedy. They both sat in silence for a few moments, uncomfortable with acknowledging the reason for his presence.
'So, you're here to teach Muggle Studies?' Hermione raised an eyebrow.
'Cut me some slack, Hermione. I may have never set foot in that classroom, but I've lived half of my life as a muggle.' Harry exclaimed. 'And anyway, Remus asked me to help him make a little demonstration of duelling.' He paused and looked at the vacant seat besides him. 'He's thinking of starting the duelling class again.' Harry finished.
'Shouldn't be much more successful then Lockhart's attempt.' Snape commented dryly as he passed by.
'Greasy git, still sneaking on everybody.' Harry muttered, but didn't say Snape mustn't have heard, as he kept walking. Harry bit his tongue from further comment. Hermione suspected he might have held his tongue because of her involvement.
Harry glanced towards the four tables, the place was almost deserted by now.
'Well, let's get going before we're late for class.' Harry smiled, offering a hand to her.
They walked together along the corridors talking animatedly.
'And where's Mel?' Hermione asked him as they turned a corner.
'I left her with Albus, I bet she's going to wreck his office. But, last time I checked he quite enjoyed seeing all his gadgets smash to smithereens.' Harry said with dry humor. 'It's settled that she'll stay with the other teacher in the staff room while I'm teaching. So you can see her later.' Harry informed her.
Hermione guided Harry to his classroom, as he hadn't bothered to find it himself. Once there, she left to go to the headmasters office. She wanted to speak to him. She had to tell him about what she had discovered. Once in front the griffin, her determination to tell Dumbledore about the dark mark had evaporated. She paced in front of the statue for some minutes. How could she go in there and tell the old man about the dark mark? She thought to herself. She didn't even know herself how it had appeared there. She had wracked her mind all night as to how it had materialized on her left arm, every supposition more preposterous then the other. She stopped one more time in front of the stone griffin deciding between entering the headmasters office and telling him everything, or just turning away and letting Dumbledore find it out anyway one way or another.
Just as she was about to start back towards the Transfiguration classroom the griffinÅ turned to reveal the staircase leading up to the Headmaster's door. She dutifully walked up and knocked on the door. It swung open, to reveal Dumbledore sitting at his desk with the little red head girl sitting on his office playing with the strange silver instruments while talking animatedly with the headmaster. Dumbledore peered up at her, his blue eyes sparkling enough to rival the silver streaming from his desk.
A.N. please reeeeeeeeview.