AN: Reviews have hit the triple digits…HECK YES! (As Napoleon would say) My formatting keeps going wonky! GAH! Oh...and it was brought to my attention that perhaps I should plug my other HG/RL stories since...well...maybe you'd like it too. My other HG/RL is Beauty and the Beast, a lighter tale than this one!

Disclaimer: (I swear this is the last one of these I'm doing) No…nope…nada…nein…etc.

Reviews: venusrose (Umm…I'm sorry:D), ponyboyluver, Led-Zeppelin-Jr (A bit of Hogwarts in this chapter for you.), Ruby Malfoy (Pomfrey is a bit blunt, but the poor dear can't help it.), CapnSilver, Lady Norkstar, Carpetfibers (Oh wow…a feast of compliments for which I thank you!), Gecko149, dubtheeunforgiven (Arg? Sounds piratey, anyway, Remus gets his due, just wait.) , megzzy6688, Smiles28, and Aelimir (One of my faithful reviewers! Yes, the package was Mione's gift. Good eye…I forgot to connect the two. The father shall be revealed soon…)

v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v

Last Chapter: For a moment, he thought he saw disappointment in her eyes, but he knew that was foolish. Who was he kidding even thinking she thought of him in such a way?

v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v

A knock on the door reverberated around the chilly, quiet room. Being the lowest level of dungeons at Hogwarts, the cold was understandable accompanied with the fact several inches of ice had glazed the earth. No answer came from the room. The solitary man sat in an uncomfortable chair (in his opinion) behind a desk, which had two chairs sitting on the opposite side. The person at the door was not who he was waiting for. Another knock came. Indifferently, he called out, "Come in."

In scurried a set of house elves, each going through a barrage of curtsies and bows, which took some skill since they carried an entire tea tray. "Master Malfoy, we has brought the tea you was asking for," said one in a particularly squeaky voice, attempting to avoid the man's eye contact. "Where would you be liking us to place it, sir?"

"Put it on the desk and build a fire while you're down here. One should have already been roaring, waiting on me but apparently Dumbledore has let the service here slide considerably."

Trembling, they placed the tray on top of some papers before two went over to the fireplace leaving the other to the man's bidding. "Would you be liking the tea poured?"

"No, I won't need your services any longer after the fire is tended to and no one is to be sent to check on this room or told I'm here. No one. Do you understand?"

Heat from the fireplace began creeping its way through the room along with the glow that now illuminated the eerie specimens floating in jars sitting on the shelves. The house elves in their uniforms nodded their bowed heads, murmuring "Yes, sir"s.

"Good," said Lucius curtly. "Now get out."

Amusedly he watched as they hurried out and shut the door behind them. Groveling house elves would never get old to him. He listened as their small footsteps became fainter and fainter to hear. He did not need one of them bursting back into the room, falling over itself because it had forgotten the crumpets or something equally trivial and ruining everything. Feeling secure that they had gone, he lifted up the teapot and started to pour.

Steam rose from the teacups as he hurriedly filled them to the top. He sat aside the teapot and drew one of the cups toward him. The other he left sitting on the edge facing the empty chairs opposite him. Deftly Lucius removed something from inside one of his numerous cloak pockets. The vial appeared to be empty; however, as it caught and refracted the light, a liquid could be seen, barely, since it was crystal clear. He paused to listen again. A faint sound made its way down the hall. Quickly he uncorked the bottle and poised it over the other cup…the steps were right outside the door now…no knock came, instead the door was flung open to reveal a…

…very windblown Severus Snape with his collar turned up and clutching a handful of something leafy and green. He regarded the man sitting in his chair with a mix of surprise and a look in his eyes as frigid as the weather. Lucius gave him an equally chilly smile and shifted his hand so that the vial slid farther up his sleeve. How did he manage such impeccable timing? thought the blonde man. Inwardly he sighed. He always ended up doing everything the hard way.

Snape, still holding whatever it was in his hand, wordlessly shut the door behind him. Underneath the desk, Lucius positioned his wand at the door. He only needed a moment; he only needed him distracted briefly.

"Lucius, I wasn't expecting you. Surely, this isn't a social visit. What does Volde-" The last part of Snape's question was cut off by Lucius bringing his index finger to his lips and shaking his head.

"Shut the door," he said edgily. He slipped his wand safely into his pocket and pointed with his other hand at the now slightly ajar door behind Snape.

Keeping the bewilderment from his face, Snape backtracked to push the door closed. Only looking down once then never removing his eyes from Snape's back, he slipped out the vial and poured only a few drops into the other teacup. By the time Snape had turned back around, Lucius was already dropping sugar cubes into his own cup.

"You're right," began Lucius as Snape took a seat across from him, "this isn't social. Master sent me to ask what progress you're making on finding our precious little Mudblood."

"Dumbledore doesn't tell me much," began Snape. He put the plant down next to the china cup. "It may be a few more weeks until I can get something we can work with."

"Is that Wolfsbane?" Lucius nodded down at the greenery with its purple flowers. "Must be for something important for you to walk to the greenhouses with the weather being like it is. Have a cup of tea to warm you up before we discuss any further."

"It's for a demonstration in my lower classes." He declined the sugar Lucius was now offering to him. "I like my plain."

Demonstration, indeed, thought Lucius. Idly, he watched as Snape lifted his cup up to his lips and…paused. The darker-haired man seemed to be thinking then actually glanced down at the tea. He can't…not even Severus Snape is that good…However, his fears quickly evaporated as the Potions Master only asked if the tea was Earl Grey or not. Lucius nodded, took a sip from his own cup, and waited.

Snape brought the cup to his lips and tilted it a bit. Eagerly, Lucius watched as the other swallowed the liquid down. The breaking of china as the cup slipped to shatter on the floor did not cause him to jump nor did he even pause from the drink he was taking as Snape's body slumped in the chair.

"Sorry it had to come to this Severus, but the Dark Lord doesn't quite believe you when you say Dumbledore isn't telling. After all those Cruciatus curses, you'd think your loyalties would stay put. Now," Lucius stared at Snape's slack face and glazed eyes, "can you hear me, Severus?"

"Yes," answered Snape in a monotone.

"What has Dumbledore told you about the location of Hermione Granger?" Lucius leaned forward on his elbows to listen better.

"He told me," said Snape and stopped.

The blonde man nodded his head. "He told you what?"

Snape faintly smiled before saying, "He told me where she is and I've been there. I've seen her."

Lucius started to feel his patience already wearing thin. Even under a potion, Snape was still evasive. "Where is he keeping her? Is she under the Fidelius Charm?"

"She's in a house. He protected it with the charm so no one can find it."

"Did Dumbledore write anything down so you could find this house?" persisted Lucius.

"Yeah," answered Snape dazedly, his mouth hung open a bit. "I've got it right here in my pocket." He reached into his robes and pulled out a well-worn piece of paper.

"Give it to me," softly demanded Lucius and snatched it out of Snape's hand. He read over the curved loopy handwriting and smirked at the incapacitated man as he stuck the paper safely in his own robes.

"Well the Dark Lord was right about you, Severus; you do have your uses after all. I didn't believe him for the longest time, but it's too bad you couldn't have given him this information willingly. You could have been a top Death Eater." Snape blinked; he was beginning to come out from his stupor. Lucius had what he needed anyway. "One last question, were you the one who smuggled the Mudblood out?"

Snape's mouth had closed and his eyes were starting to focus. He had come back too far, Lucius realized, for him to answer anymore. Master will torture that answer out of him before he kills Severus. Too bad it couldn't have been me to do the job. He rose from his chair, dusted off his robes, and picked up the Wolfsbane. As he passed the fire, he threw it into the flames. Hand on the door, he turned to look at the other man still slumped in the chair. The memory potion mixed in the Veritaserum would take care of any fleeting memories Snape might have. All the Potions Master would remember was falling asleep in front of his office fire while having tea. A triumphantly wicked smiled played on Lucius' lips as he made his way down the hall into the dark.

v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v

Shadows moved slowly across the wall as heavy clouds skirted the night sky. Hermione had been watching them for a while now or at least she felt she had been staring for a long time. Instinctively, she reached over at her bedside table's top drawer to open it. She quickly withdrew her hand, remembering that it was empty of what she wanted. Remus had taken away her Dreamless Sleep Potion.

Her room illuminated briefly as the moon reappeared and reflected off the ice outside, courtesy of a late January storm. She snuggled down deeper under the covers, convincing herself to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes everyone reappeared in that horrific dream and recently a new person she did not know emerged, a woman her face masked by hair, advancing on her.

Hermione sat up again, pulling the covers around her bare shoulders. Her door looked back at her and if it had been opened, Remus' door would have looked just as taunting. He had taken away her potion that she had come to rely on to get sleep. She knew it was not to be taken the in amounts she had been, but she did not really care. Remus explained that she could become dependent on it and even suffer major health risks even to the baby. He had told her gently as he cleared out her stash that if she should ever need him in the night for any reason, all she had to do was walk across the hall and wake him. He would be more than willingly to stay up with her until she dozed back off.

Instead of doing as he had asked, Hermione picked up her new diary. The full moon had only been a little over a week ago and Remus had once again had a potion mishap, though not as serious as the first two. Just as Pomfrey had predicted, he refused any help from her both times. Hermione kept telling herself he needed all the sleep he could get and she need not disturb him. She thought she had been making a breakthrough recently, but Remus was as stubborn as he was kind. Sometimes she felt like he wanted someone close but then he decided against it. The man was an anomaly. Sighing, she opened her diary to its last entry.

I was able to produce a faint, wispy Patronus today, but I can't seem to make a form. Remus says it takes practice and not to get discouraged. Maybe my memory isn't happy enough. Madam Pomfrey popped up right in the middle of one of my attempts. Needless to say, she wasn't too happy about that, and well I wasn't too happy to see her, but I guess that's not true. I wanted to know yet…I didn't. Harry and Ron's recent letter of support and condolences made me want them here even more, even if they did see me in such a state.

She performed a quick wizard ultrasound. Thankfully, Remus didn't leave me to it alone; he held my hand as she did it. Cheerfully, she announced that it was a boy. I don't know how I should feel. I'm wearing the dreadful maternity clothes now and whenever I look down, I think It's a boy. He's my boy and someone else's and that's what scares me the most. Even more than the prospect of picking out a name, which Pomfrey thrust upon me in the form of a book. What to Name Your Magical One is endless. I'd never thought about names before, not that I ever expected to so early.

Not to mention Remus is no help in that department, but he has other stuff on his plate like the full moon. He's been edging away recently, and I think that's why. I don't know if he'll ever understand that I have no problem with his lycanthropy unlike most of the other people he has to encounter. He cannot help what happened to him. Why can't he–

A sharp crack like the shot of a gun jolted her from her reading. Such sounds had been frequent since the thick coating of ice. Tree limbs could often be heard snapping off under the weight and tumbling to the ground. The sound startled her so that she jumped and snapped the diary shut. She was not going to sleep anytime soon. Wearily, she removed herself from the warmth of her covers to see if the other inhabitant of the house was having the same problem she was.

The sound of even breathing greeting her as she pushed open the door informed her that Remus was catching up on some much needed shut eye. His still form was on its side, curled up on the left of the bed. Softly she made her way toward him. He did not stir as she stood on the side farthest away from him, debating on how exactly to approach the situation. Seeing his tranquil face, she suddenly did not have the heart to wake him. Hermione rubbed her numbing shoulders. Maybe if I just sat here a bit, I'd relax some, she thought.

She eased herself gently down onto the bed's empty side. Her freezing legs she slipped under the comforter. Remus still had not moved but continued his steady breathing. Hermione wondered if he was just pretending like he had the other time when she had stolen his pillow. No, he would have said something by now.

She shivered; her upper body was not covered. Conceding, she slid further down into the covers. I'll only be here a moment. I just need to relax a little, just enough so I can get a few more hours of sleep. That's all. I won't be here when he wakes – But she did not finish that thought because she had drifted off to sleep.

Remus tightened his hold on his pillow. Brilliant sunlight was trying to shine through his closed lids and he drifted between sleep and wakefulness. About that time was when his brain registered something was wrong, different. His pillow was warm, had hair, an arm, and was softly breathing. Timidly, he opened his eyes. The supposed pillow he had been grasping turned out to be a sleeping Hermione Granger.

His arm held her around the waist while her arm was laying on top of his. He was within inches of her face and he could feel her heart faintly beating. How had this happened? Remus assured himself he had in fact went to sleep alone last night, but now he had somehow wrapped himself up in a woman to say the least and he had not had the pleasure of that in awhile. Of course, there is no pleasure here, he said to himself, as he looked her face over. Of course not.

Her dark lashes rested on her cheeks while her hair trailed like banner on the pillow and her shoulders. She was warm against him and looked so peaceful that he did not know whether or not he should wake her. Remus however did not get to make that decision since Hermione stirred and blinked sleepily at him on her own accord.

Instead of pulling away as he figured she would have done immediately upon finding herself in the arms of the likes of him, she said, "It's too cold," and then actually snuggled closer to him.

By this time, Remus did not know what to think, so he just laid there and let her get closer. She would regret anything later; they always regretted doing anything, anything with him. "It is cold," he answered. "Perhaps if I went downstairs and started a fire, then it would warm up some."

Surprisingly again, she murmured, "No, stay. You're warm, Remus." Her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck.

"Hermione," he began slowly, "I think –"

Both of her brown eyes trained in on his. They held a look that caused his stomach to drop and softly she cut off his sentence, "Remus, you think too much." With that, she pulled him closer and closed her eyes. Remus did not need to think as he met her lips. He moved his arm from her waist, lightly traced her arm until he found her hand. As the kiss deepened, he felt he would never be able to think properly again.

v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v

Time was of the essence. The labyrinth of corridors and hallways were dim in between the randomly mounted torches. He kept his hood up as he walked, not looking at the various lackeys that went by. They were going the opposite direction he was. His arm still burned from being called just a few moments ago. He was not going to the meeting, but to the opposite end of the complex where he needed to get into a certain box. Snape quickened his pace.

He did not have much time. The information Malfoy would be presenting to Voldemort could only keep them away for a short period of time. As soon as they realized the information was false, he had to be far from here. Snape could not help but smirk at the thought of Malfoy. How stupid he was to believe he could pull such a thing on Severus Snape. Malfoy's quickly brewed Veritaserum had such a distinct odor even a first year could have smelled it. The symptoms had been easy to mimic and the fake information even easier to give.

The glint of a silver hand caused Snape to bend his head low to not be recognized. Peter Pettigrew scurried past, heeding his master's call like the little rat he was. Snape sneered at him in absolute revulsion. He had more reasons than anyone to find the piece of filth revolting. What had caused him to be so jumpy during his first visit with Hermione was the fear she would remember what Pettigrew had done to her. What Snape, thankfully, had walked in on.

After weeks of careful inspection, Snape had come upon Hermione's room by mistake. It had been an out of the way door stuck far back in the corner so that one's eye just skipped over it, not to mention it was on the lowest level. Cautiously, he had swung the door open and bit back curses from flying at what he saw. Hermione's prostrate form lying underneath Pettigrew's bulking weight. Even though somehow sedated, she had been struggling against him and whimpering slightly, both hands held back invisibly. Pettigrew's hands roamed eagerly over her gown and he seemed to be trying to get his trousers off. An icy statement from Snape had sent the rodent into a panic, rushing out the room, not even caring that the carefully monitored Snape had found the hiding place of the dark's new secret weapon. Later she had been discovered missing, and Snape had calmly walked the premises searching with the others, knowing she was miles away and gladly sent a few curses Pettigrew's way that caused him to fall flat on his face.

Snape resisted the urge yet again to curse Pettigrew to oblivion and continued walking deeper into the building. Soon he came upon a fork, took the left way, and stared at a dead end. A red-haired man leaned against the only door, which was at the very end. He regarded Snape indifferently, probably thinking him a stupid, new inductee who had lost his way.

"He's calling," said Snape, "and I've been sent to relieve you so you can go to the meeting."

"I was told to stay here and under no circumstances was to leave," replied the man gruffly.

"Did Lucius Malfoy tell you that? He's down in the meeting passing out drinks. It seems he doesn't want you to go." Snape kept in the shadows.

"Yeah," started the man, "it was Malfoy. He's passing out drinks, you say. Always thought he didn't like me, but I never thought he'd keep me away from a draft. You sure you want to stay?"

"I'll stay until you can get back," said Snape then added, "but don't be rushed."

"Alright. Thanks. You can keep this between us two. Can't you?" he asked as he was leaving.

Snape nodded under his hood. "Of course."

As the man disappeared down the hall from sight, Snape unlocked the door, slid in, and carefully shut it behind him. Inside was pitch black. He muttered Lumos and his wand lit up. He held his wand high, searching among the many objects scattered along the bookshelf. A box, he said to himself, it's in a box. Stuck behind a taller carton, he pulled out a heavy wooden box. He hissed in pain and quickly put it on the bed next to him. It had been like putting his hand onto a fired up stove. Bracing himself, he opened the lid, then waved his hands as if that would cool them off. Inside laid a perfectly round white orb.

Quickly, he retrieved a piece of paper and quill from his robes. He could not take the orb with him that would prove too obvious and dangerous so he would have to be an extremely fast writer. Unlike the orbs the Ministry used, this one was clearly manufactured differently. A small raised dot caught his attention. He pushed it in and watched as a floating figure rose from the orb and revolved slowly.

As Megan Hollowell began to speak, Snape put the quill to parchment and wrote, knowing that this was his only chance. Footsteps could be heard as the figure began reciting the part he already knew. Snape snapped the box shut, put it back, and shoved the paper back in his robes. Voices were arguing outside the room. The Potions Master pulled a pouch from a pocket. He scooped out the contents, threw it over him, and thought of Hogwarts.