Disclaimer: They aren't mine. Not now…not ever. Anything recognizable belongs to JKR and Company. Anything else is simply me having a bit of fun!
A Tense Situation
~Chapter Eleven~
It was a grim looking Harry Potter that arrived back in the Gryffindor Common Room nearly two hours later. His talk with the Headmaster had been anything but reassuring and now rather than just having to worry about Ron and Hermione being in danger, he had the added complication of worrying about Susan as well.
"I knew this would happen," he muttered, entering the Common Room.
"Knew what would happen, mate?" Ron asked, looking up from the latest copy of Quidditch International, a popular monthly Wizarding magazine that had been delivered earlier that afternoon.
Harry looked around in an effort to make certain that there was no one else in the room to overhear them and then stopped suddenly, momentarily forgetting about Ron's question.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"She's with Susan and Ginny," his friend answered with a careless wave of his hand. "Something about a girl's night, although it can't be much of a night considering that they're all supposed to be back in time for curfew and that's in ten minutes."
The Boy-Who-Lived absently shook his head in acknowledgement of the information and sat down on the long sofa in front of the fireplace. No matter how long he had been at Hogwarts, he would never get used to the glowing fire in the fireplace, especially at the beginning of summer. Of course, the fire itself was more for atmosphere than anything else and had been charmed not to emit any heat due to the warmer season, but it still was quite a sight as far as he was concerned.
"So what did Dumbledore have to say about you-know-what?" the red-haired young man questioned.
"Not much," Harry replied with more than a hint of disgruntlement in his voice. "He said that the matter has already been taken into consideration and that if necessary, she will be moved to a safer location as soon as the school year is finished."
"Safer location?" Ron repeated, his brow furrowing with confusion. "What's safer than Hogwarts?"
"That's just it, Ron," Harry said, looking at his friend earnestly, "Hogwarts isn't all that safe any more and even though Dumbledore won't admit it, I know that he doesn't have complete control over everything that happens here. I'm not so certain that he ever did."
Ron's reply was lost amongst the sounds of the Common Room entryway as it opened to admit Hermione and Ginny, the latter of the two girls giggling as if she had just heard the joke of a lifetime.
"Honestly, Gin," her brother complained, "Do you have to do that? We could practically hear you half the castle away!"
He was almost sorry that he hadn't taken time to think about his words before opening his mouth as both young women shot him frightful glares. Deciding that retreat, in the form of silence, might be his best bet for the time being, he reopened his magazine and slunk behind the glossy pages that were covered with moving pictures of Chudley Cannon's team members flying to and fro. Only the flame red tips of his hair could be seen peeking out from the top of the enchanted journal.
"Did you get to talk with Professor Dumbledore, Harry?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's antics and walking over to stand beside her friend.
"Yes and he didn't have anything reassuring to say except that he was monitoring the situation," the young man replied glumly.
"Which doesn't mean a whole lot, at least according to Harry," Ron's voice muttered from behind the magazine.
Giving an exasperated sigh, Hermione reached over and tugged the magazine out of his hand and stuffed it into her book bag. Seeing the incredulous look that passed over her friend's face at the loss of his new toy, she simply sighed. "Ron, you can have it back when we're done discussing things. It's very difficult to try to talk to you when I look in your direction expecting to see your face and see the Wizard on the cover of that magazine instead. Honestly!"
"But it's Victor Krum!" he protested, hand held out expectantly in the hopes of retrieving his newly found reading material.
"Which makes it even more disconcerting," Hermione stated, moving her bag further out of Ron's annoyed grasp. Though she still kept in touch with Victor occasionally through letters, she had not seen him in nearly two years and it was more than a little disturbing to look at a picture of her friend's face and seemingly hear Ron's accent and higher pitched voice rather than the low-toned, broken English of Victor's own voice
A snicker from Ginny, having taken in the pouting look on her brother's face, had both Harry and Hermione laughing while Ron simply threw up his hands, signaling his surrender in the matter.
"I'm going to call it a night," Ginny announced after the laughter had calmed down. Giving her brother a soft smile as means of an unspoken sibling truce, she politely said good night to the others and headed up the stairs to the girls dormitories.
"Perhaps we should move this somewhere less public," Hermione suggested after wishing her friend a good night and watching her petite form vanish up the stone stairwell. A few moments later, with Harry and Ron hidden underneath the folds of fabric that comprised the Invisibility Cloak, they entered the Head Girl's room, located just down the hall from the Gryffindor Common Room, and discussed the situation at hand.
"Hermione," the Boy-Who-Lived turned his attention to the female of the trio. "Does Susan suspect that she might be in danger?"
"Well, I'd say that she suspects something given that she categorized our behavior during the past few days as 'distracted' but I don't think she realizes that she may be in danger," Hermione answered thoughtfully.
"We don't even know that she is in danger," Ron logically pointed out. "We just think that she might be given the fact that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is out to get us. Again."
"Yes and if he fails then he's likely to turn to the next person that Harry is most likely to miss," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"Too bad he's not going after Filch instead," Ron answered with a grin. "It sure would be nice to be able to sneak around the castle after curfew just once without having to worry about him catching us."
"Or Mrs. Norris for that matter," Harry murmured in agreement.
"Oh for Heaven's sake," Hermione muttered with irritation. "Would you two finally grow up and focus on what's important here?"
Agreeing as much for the sake of not being railed at further by the strict young witch as for anything else, they focused their attentions and discussed several topics including Susan's possible need for further protection and the wands that would be coming their way the following morning. Little was decided that hadn't already been discussed fully, but at least they felt better for having solidified what few ideas had come to them thus far.
Twenty minutes later, the soft shuffle of Ron and Harry's footsteps could just barely be heard as they moved carefully under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak and returned to the Gryffindor Common Room.
What they didn't see was the pair of intense gray eyes that silently watched as the portrait to the Gryffindor entrance opened for seemingly no reason at all.
'What are you up to, Potter?' wondered the young man hidden in shadow as he stared calculatedly at the recently closed portal. Knowing that he wasn't going to receive the answers to his question by standing in the corridor, he turned and resumed the nightly rounds required of the Head Boy. Something was gearing up and ready to happen; he could feel it though he couldn't exactly explain how, and Draco Malfoy would all but bet his life that it had everything to do with Harry Potter.
/^\^/^\^/^\
It was early Friday morning when Lucius Malfoy stepped into the small office of the Ministry worker he had come to see. He looked around the darkened room that could really be described as more of a nook and his lip automatically curled with extreme distaste. His own office while he had worked for the Ministry of Magic had been spacious and airy, befitting of a Wizard in his social position, but this? It was little better than the accommodations for the House-Elves back at Malfoy Manor so far as he was concerned. Still, the less fortunate half of society did need to remember its place and he instantly decided that the Ministry was succeeding at that small task if nothing else.
"Lucius," greeted a nervous feminine voice that had just come from the file room located off to the left. One glance into the room showed a small space no bigger than a pantry and the man consciously hid the inherent disgust he felt for the lack of opulence in his surroundings.
"Have you heard anything more in regards to our little party this weekend?" Lucius asked quietly, covertly referring to the upcoming Dark Revel that was to take place the following evening. Although his tone was congenial enough, the woman could sense the underlying steel and calculation beneath the seemingly innocent enquiry.
"I told you that I would contact you if I found out anything," she replied tightly in a voice just above a whisper. Looking nervously at the open doorway, she gestured for her guest to have a seat and then quietly walked over and closed the door.
"You cannot come here asking me questions like this, Lucius," she nervously told the man in a slightly louder voice. "It isn't safe and your presence could quite possibly raise questions; questions that I am quite certain you would rather avoid."
The last line was delivered rather pointedly and the older Malfoy had no doubt that she was referring to the fiasco two years prior when he and several other Death Eaters had engaged Harry Potter and his friends in an effort to retrieve the highly vaunted prophecy that was still one of the Dark Lord's main obsessions. He grimaced in remembrance of that particular situation. It had been a very furious Master that the Death Eaters had been treated to after that night and their failure to recover the prophecy had not gone unpunished. Months of Crucio and being left out of the activities of the Inner Circle had left Lucius wondering if he would ever be able to insinuate himself back into the Dark Lord's good graces. His loss of position at the Ministry hadn't pleased the serpentine figure either and if it hadn't been for his own highly placed social connections and overly large bankroll then he might very well have found himself permanently housed in Azkaban along with the rest of his colleagues that had been captured during that evening. Merlin, how he hated Harry Potter and his sidekicks! The interfering children had much to atone for and he nearly salivated in anticipation of the following night when two of those blasted children would receive their just rewards. He only hoped that the Dark Lord would allow him the honor of applying the punishments, especially to the curvaceous young Mudblood.
"Be very careful, my dear," the blond haired man warned softly as a tight smile played about his lips. "You have been a very valued and respected member of the Ministry for many years now and are considered to be quite fair in your dealings with those around you. It would be a shame if that respect were to be damaged irrevocably. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Enough of this," she snapped, her anger at being threatened winning out over her fear of the loathsome Wizard that sat before her, a twisted smirk firmly settled on his face. "I told you that I don't have anything new to report and I don't. I have kept my end of this so called bargain and I expect you to keep yours."
"All in good time, my dear," he answered, obviously unperturbed by her emotional outburst. "Provided that everything goes well at the party, you will be free to continue with your happy little life in this administrative nirvana you call a career."
The last part of his answer was delivered with more than a hint of derision as he made a very obvious gesture to her surroundings.
"You promised that if I did this and gave you the information you demanded that she wouldn't be harmed," the woman said softly, wondering yet again if the man was going to keep his word and deliver the promised protection of the young girl that meant so very much to her.
"And she won't be," he assured her in an off-hand matter that hinted at boredom on his part. "Provided that the information you have provided me with proves to be accurate. It would be…unfortunate… if our friend were to be displeased. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes," she whispered, remembering the not-so-little bout of Cruciatus she had endured a few days prior for seemingly no reason. What exactly would the Dark Lord do to her if her information failed to bring about the results promised by Lucius Malfoy? And what was to say that such a fate wouldn't befall her anyway? One thing she had learned in her brief dealings with the less than savory characters of the Wizarding world was that honor was scarce and the time honored values of truth, loyalty and keeping one's promises, were nothing more than tools to be played with. She sighed silently, wondering once again how she had managed to get into such a mess and if she would ever be able to pull out of it. Of course, even if Lucius did keep his word, and she seriously doubted that he would unless it suited his purpose to do so, she didn't know how she was going to live with her conscience that would surely nag her to the point of insanity.
"I see that we understand one another quite well," the Wizard quipped, thoroughly enjoying his game of cat and mouse. "I shall leave you now, but be prepared tomorrow evening as I will personally escort you to the party."
"Afraid I might run away?" she asked with more than a hint of bitterness.
Lucius looked at the woman that now stood mere inches away from him and smiled, though the action never reached the cold hard depths of his eyes. "The thought had occurred to me," he admitted lightly. "And considering that it is both of our necks on the line should anything go wrong, then yes, I believe that I will take certain precautions by keeping an eye on you. After all, I wouldn't want you to suddenly develop an overwhelming sense of conscience and run off telling stories to the wrong people."
"You're referring to Albus Dumbledore," she whispered softly, wondering if even the most celebrated Wizard of their time would be able to get her out of her current predicament, let alone understand her reasons for willingly walking into it in the first place.
"Amongst others," Lucius acknowledged without the slightest hint of hesitation. With a slight incline of his aristocratic head, he turned and vacated the tiny office, his stride full of confidence and purpose.
"What have I done?" the woman whispered into the emptiness of the room as she reached across the desk to pick up a photo of a young woman, no more than seventeen years of age, standing outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and waving happily to her from the picture. Her red hair shone like fire in the sunlight and several people that she had come to call friends during the past few years surrounded her.
Laying the picture back down on the desk, she wiped an errant tear from her cheek and took a deep ragged breath. It wasn't supposed to be like this and she had never thought herself the type to fall victim to the demands of the Dark. However, here she sat, gathering and passing along information that would eventually cost several good people their lives and all because she had come to the decision that the young woman in the picture had more of a right to live than anyone else. A decision that she knew the girl in question would disagree with most vehemently were she ever to find out.
Another tear escaped her eye and fell unheeded to land on the parchments littering her desk. Tomorrow night would not only decide if her treachery had been in vain but it would also condemn her for eternity as far as she was concerned. It was a frightening prospect and one that she would have given her own life to reverse. However, being a practical Witch, she knew that such a thing was simply not possible.
"What have I done?" she whispered yet again and sat miserably staring vacantly off into space as she listened to the silence that seemed to bombard her from every corner of the little office with no possibility of comfort in sight.
/^\^/^\^/^\
It was a nervous Gryffindor trio that sat in the Potions classroom Friday morning and oddly enough, even the dark haired Professor seemed to have his mind on other things, though most of the students would be hard pressed to notice seeing that he still barked his instructions at them in his usual acidic manner.
At least that was Hermione's impression as she looked up from brewing the mind-strengthening potion that he had assigned to catch him staring thoughtfully at her for the briefest of moments. Of course, she couldn't be certain that he had been staring at her in particular as he seemed to immediately shift his gaze whenever she would glance upwards, but she honestly thought he just might have been. Not only was his intent look puzzling, but also it was enough to set her own nerves on edge as it silently spoke of a nervousness regarding the upcoming task; a task that still hadn't had every precaution hammered out ahead of time.
'All the more reason to feel like a lamb being lead to slaughter,' she thought worriedly and pushed the horrifying thought as far back in her mind as she could.
She sighed and added the crushed walrus tusk and stirred the mixture in her cauldron clock-wise nineteen times, pausing forty-two seconds before repeating the process in a counter-clockwise direction. The potion that they were currently making was quite complex and while it didn't take all that long to brew, it was still more advanced than she would have credited the seventh year class with being able to brew successfully. It also hadn't been on the original curriculum, which meant that the Professor had substituted it for something else.
A frown marred her brow as her mind toiled over this particular line of reasoning. A mind-strengthening potion would assist in blocking out unwanted intrusion by another into a person's mind and although it was nowhere near as advanced or dependable as Occlumency, it would help a person to focus on one particular thought and debunk anyone from seeing too far into one's thoughts and memories; at least for a while anyway as the potion wouldn't last for more than a few hours at best. She wondered if perhaps Professor Snape had insisted on this particular potion because of the upcoming events of tomorrow.
'But he's going to Obliviate Ron and I,' an inner voice whispered, bringing her back to her biggest fear of all regarding the following day's activities.
'Prior to our forced meeting with Voldemort,' she silently amended, recalling Harry's previous descriptions of the Dark Lord.
No, she still wasn't happy with the thought of an Obliviate and she didn't mind admitting so to either the dark brooding Professor that was currently making his rounds to check on each student's progress or even the Headmaster himself. After all, she had worked hard to get to her current state and she didn't like the thought of anyone tampering with her mind. It was the one thing that was truly hers and she didn't want to risk it in any way. Besides, she and Ron both knew far too much about the Order, which meant that a good-sized chunk of memories would have to be extracted.
There was also the small matter of trust that she would have to place in both the Headmaster and Head of Slytherin. Complete trust was something that she didn't give lightly and in this case she would be entrusting her most precious commodity, her thoughts and memories- the very things that helped to comprise her identity, to two Wizards with decidedly questionable agendas. Even worse was the fact that her faith in the Headmaster over the years had gone from that of an adoring eleven year old child to the calm rationale of an eighteen year old young woman and while she believed that Albus Dumbledore would do everything in his power to defeat the Dark Lord, she wouldn't put it past him to make a few sacrifices along the way. A good case in point was some of the decisions he had made on Harry's behalf throughout the years. Whatever might happen, Hermione was determined that she did not want to be one of the sacrifices unless there was absolutely no other way.
'And what of Professor Snape?' that annoying inner voice questioned, drawing her attention even more inwards as she examined her thoughts of the Wizard she knew so little about.
The man had been at best, unpleasant, and at worst… well, she was too polite to allow her thoughts to roam too far in that particular direction even if she was indulging in a private monologue. No, the man had a sense of honor that, though confusing and slightly questionable at times, was something to be taken into consideration. He had put himself on the line more times for others than could be reliably counted, Harry, Ron and herself included, and from what she had seen upon occasion during her stays at Grimmauld Place, Professor Snape had been the recipient of the Dark Lord's ire on numerous occasions. No, despite his harsh manner and prickly nature, she truly believed that he had their best interests in mind, though she doubted that either Ron or Harry would agree with her newly found assessment of their most hated Professor.
Oddly enough, she found herself more inclined to trust the motives of the taciturn Wizard than she was to trust those of the Headmaster. It was a startling revelation indeed and one she would definitely need to think about after tomorrow's activities had concluded. That is of course provided that she and Ron, along with Professor Snape, actually managed to return in one piece. Just then the man she had been pondering over for the last several minutes interrupted her thoughts.
"Pay attention to your potion, Miss Granger," the Professor demanded in a silky voice from where he had stopped to observe her progress over her shoulder. "It would be highly unfortunate if it were anything less than perfect as so much depends upon it."
She watched thoughtfully as he moved on to Neville's cauldron and delivered his customary scathing remarks. Although, in Snape's defense, Hermione had to admit that Neville's potion was a ghastly shade of chartreuse as opposed to the anticipated midnight blue that the textbook had indicated. It was also far too clumpy to be considered anything even remotely resembling the mind-strengthening potion assigned to the class.
"I can't believe he just threatened your grade, 'Mione," Ron muttered quietly, shooting a dark glance at Snape's back. "Well, it's not like you have to worry or anything. Even if you failed this potion, you'd still have the highest overall grade in the class."
She flashed her friend a small smile before returning her attention to her cauldron. Although she supposed the Professor's comments seemed to indicate that a 'less than perfect' potion would constitute the reprisal of a failing grade, thereby producing the 'unfortunate' outcome he had predicted, she suspected that he was referring to something far more important. It was as if he were passing on a coded message that he couldn't risk the other students in the classroom picking up on; or so the intensity of his momentary gaze had seemed to suggest. She shook her head and laughed inwardly at herself as she acknowledged that all of the recent cloak and dagger activities seemed to finally be getting to her if she truly believed that Professor Snape was sending her covert messages in class. Still, the idea stayed in the back of her mind and grew more insistent with the passing of time.
Adding in the final ingredients, she lowered the flame underneath the cauldron and allowed the potion to simmer as required. Taking advantage of the opportunity afforded to her, the curious Witch allowed her eyes to unobtrusively follow her Professor as he completed his rounds throughout the classroom before finally settling into the chair behind his oversized desk. She could hear the scratching of his quill as he slashed through several student papers. A small, sardonic grin briefly touched her lips as she thought of the amount of red ink the man must go through in a single solitary school year.
'Probably more than the other teachers combined,' she theorized, watching as he made three large strokes with his quill at the top of the parchment in front of him. It was obvious by the stroke marks and the grim set of the Professor's mouth that the student in question wasn't going to be too pleased with that particular grade.
As if feeling someone watching him, Snape looked up and quickly surveyed the class with his gaze finally coming to rest momentarily on Hermione. The sudden unexpected action made her jump ever so slightly as she had become lost in her thoughts. With the quirk of an eyebrow, he nodded briefly to her and allowed his gaze to travel from her simmering cauldron to her startled eyes. It was then that he shot her another intense look and she had the distinct impression that he was once again trying to convey a message of prime importance. Turning her own gaze to the cauldron in question, she was pleased to see that the potion was gently bubbling exactly as it should be. When she lifted her eyes back to meet those of her Professor, he had looked away and she was left with an overwhelming sense of confusion.
He had been trying to tell her something, of that she was now certain, although she couldn't quite figure it out. Whatever it was, she had the distinct impression that it was highly important and had something to do with the following day. She sighed, wishing that the final hour of class would hurry up and end so that she could bottle her potion and leave. She needed to think and she needed time alone to do so. She wasn't certain where the strange little non-verbal exchange played into the grand scheme of things, but she was certain of one thing if nothing else: Severus Snape was up to something and she'd bet her very last textbook that whatever it was, it had everything to do with tomorrow afternoon.
/^\^/^\^/^\
TBC
Author's Note: And another chapter written and read… My many many thanks to all of you who have taken the time to review and again my thanks to those of you who have passed along well wishes regarding my current health problems. I'd also like to send out Chocolate Frogs along with my deepest thanks to OzRatbag2 for continuing to run through this story with an expert eye.
Again, not only are your thoughts and comments appreciated, but many times your ideas help to shape the story so don't hesitate to push the little button and let me know what you think!
~Jules
