A/N: I am very sorry that this took a long time in coming, but I am immensely grateful to those reviewers who read it and reviewed over the past couple of weeks: you prompted me to carry on with the chapter!

Actually, I'm extremely grateful to everyone who reviewed … this story might end up being my last in the world of fanfiction. I don't know … I'll see, but it may be time to move on. Although I guess it depends what the fifth book has in store for us …

Anyway, without further ado, here is the third chapter.

*****

IN THE NOISE OF SORRY NIGHT

Chapter 3

Severus settled himself into a chair in Lucius' study. They were at Malfoy Manor, enjoying it while they still could. 'I wonder if I have the energy to be disappointed in you, Lucius. Or jealous, perhaps.'

Lucius smirked. 'The latter would be more flattering.'

'Or flattening, since we're talking about getting you on your back,' Severus retorted.

Lucius looked faintly hurt. 'Still insulting me, I see.'

The other man gave a wry, rare smile. 'It's how we work best, Lucius.'

'I know.'

There was a slight pause while the two tried to gauge each other's feelings. Then Severus spoke slowly. 'It's been a while since we were together, isn't it, Lucius?'

'Several months, I think.' Lucius smiled. 'Our Master would be disappointed in us.' His forehead creased a little, and he changed the subject. 'I hope Miss Granger did not suffer too cruelly at your hands, Severus.'

Severus hesitated, then abruptly he rose from his chair, and went to the window. When he spoke, there was resentment in his voice, though Lucius could not determine whether it was real or feigned. 'What happened between you?'

Lucius shrugged behind his lover. 'We spent a night together. I intend to punish her for it, my dear Severus. She was working for the Ministry, too … investigating me.'

'I know.' Severus cursed himself for letting it slip.

Lucius hardened his voice, stony. 'What do you mean, you know?'

Quickly Severus worked out his lie. 'Hermione trusts me, remember – she thinks I'm working with her.'

'Against me.'

Now Severus shrugged. 'I suppose.' He had to play it carefully, he knew. Both sides believed that he was secretly working for them, despite having openly declared allegiance to the other. It would be simple to switch his loyalty: he could just begin to change the situation of his lies.

Voldemort took pleasure in the belief that Lucius and Severus were 'together.' One of his most faithful servants with one of his most intelligent: it made a good combination. And the two men were attracted to each other, it was true … but both pursued other interests, Lucius especially. Their relationship was apparently more a formality.

But Severus knew that it ran deeper than that. His warning to Hermione about the damaging nature of intimacy had reminded him just how precarious his situation was. Lucius had the power to damage him, to hurt him seriously. He could betray him to the Ministry … it would not be hard to prove how intimate they had been.

But to gain Voldemort's trust and favour, Severus was forced to carry on this strange alliance. He had to admit that there were benefits … in a world where homophobes were still common, acceptance by another man was unusual, and welcome. And the sex was undeniably good. Lucius was so experienced that seduction came naturally to him now. Severus came naturally to him, too.

He heard Lucius shift in his chair at his desk, and turned back to face him, preparing himself for the attack of grey, steady eyes. 'What are you going to do about her?'

A smirk. 'I won't stand for behaviour like hers, Severus. It's insolent and humiliating. But she won't make a fool out of me for much longer. Our Master wants to meet her … he wants to get to know her rather well, I believe.'

Severus took a sharp breath. He had been right about Lucius, and now he realised the advantages of their connection. Hermione was in danger. He only hoped the stupid girl had listened to what he'd said.

What had Lucius seen in her? Yes, Severus was not attracted to girls as a rule, but surely there was more to be had from another man, a man who could at least hope to understand what Lucius was made of … Severus would far better be able to sense Lucius' moods and thoughts than Hermione, or any other female. Male companionship was more satisfying, clearly … there was much more chance that emotions could be fully shared, felt like twins, like lovers …

Severus, his mind warned him. Remember, these are the sorts of feelings that ruin people. You don't want to let jealousy cloud your judgement; your life is dangerous enough. As a twice double agent, Severus had to use his wits the entire time to prevent anything going wrong which might blow his cover. And in this sense again, he was very like Lucius.

Severus, remember that you have to be ready to betray Lucius when the time come. Perhaps there's no possibility of it now, since you'd be in danger and they're in no real position to offer you any protection, but the time will come. Albus told you. But then, he doesn't know how deep you and Lucius go … he thinks it's just a friendship. Poor, naïve Dumbledore.

And now Hermione had shifted the balance of things. He remembered his emotions at the moment he had met her outside his lover's room, so enormously tumultuous: anger at Hermione for taking his Lucius, anger at Lucius for betraying him, a little lust, and finally frustrated grief that his meeting with Lucius had been postponed. Oh, and the curiosity about Miss Granger's actions and motives. Which came second.

Severus, you really do love him.

He smiled a little coyly to himself. It was hard not to love him, after all. But it was certainly a bad idea.

Lucius' eyes were beginning to flicker gently, and Severus recognised the early signs of lust in his partner. He dismissed all thoughts of safety from his mind. There was always pure, meaningless enjoyment to be had, regardless of the responsibility that came with it.

He slowly held out his arms to Lucius. 'Forget about her for a while, would you?'

The aristocrat stood, and his long hair shifted beautifully as he lowered his head, taking in Severus' lithe body. Then his lips curled in a smug smile, full of desire. 'Perhaps for a little while, Severus.'

*****

Hermione neared the wizarding camp in Holland where Harry was based, and smiled a little to herself. Here she would be safe, safe among people who loved and trusted her, people whom she could trust, people about whom she was sure. Harry was her oldest friend, aside from Ron … but he could not really be called her friend, since they had so little resembling intimacy nowadays. He was still in Scotland, still investigating the passages underneath the old castles of the highlands. They had received a tip from an anonymous Death Eater that they had business in these caves, and although the Ministry had taken these claims fairly lightly and assumed he was lying, Ron, in his own stubborn way, had straightaway led a band of wizards off to the barren heathery hills to investigate.

Poor Ron.

Even Harry – not the most sensitive when it came to people's emotions and reasons – had worked out that Ron was only leaving to get away from Harry and Hermione. It was a little upsetting, the way Ron was reacting so strongly to their relationship. Hermione was not even sure if he knew they had broken up, he had cut himself off so thoroughly.

But Harry at least liked her, Harry knew and understood her. She had realised years ago why he was known as the saviour of the wizarding world. Far from only being a focus point for the fight against Voldemort, he gave off an air of calm and acceptance, of planning around what they had rather than being frustrated about what was already in the past. People who had known Harry's father seemed particularly sensitive to this characteristic in Harry, so she guessed James had probably had it also. A Potter trait.

The camp was exactly as she had remembered it – covering an area of about half a square kilometre, since it was their main base in Holland, a mass of magically shielded buildings conjured from wizard stone. A block for accommodation, a defence block that organised the shielding charms and spells, a training area and a headquarters.

Mad-Eye Moody was at the gate, his eyes darting about in his usual paranoid manner. Hermione, having been a little irritated by this at first, had grown to be grateful for this since it had saved them from an attack from a Dutch cult, apparently unsympathetic to Voldemort but with surprisingly familiar marks on their arms.

When he saw Hermione, his face grew a little grim, and as she reached him he barred her way. 'Name?'

Hermione recognised the line of questions about to come, and took a deep breath. 'Name, Hermione Isabelle Granger, born eighteenth of May, nineteen eighty-eight, position: Auror, clearance: top secret in the Death Eater Investigation Department, otherwise secret, code name: Cinnamon Swan, password for this particular camp … well, it used to be silken apricots.' She broke off and gasped the air before facing him again. 'I am who I say I am, Alastor. I need to see Harry … I've given up my mission. I'm not investigating Lucius Malfoy any more. It's a little urgent.'

Moody's face had relaxed about halfway through her speech, but now grew faintly interested in this revelation. 'Have you, now, lass?' he asked. 'Well, you'd better see him then. He's in the training area, and careful, he's practising curses.'

She nodded, and thanked him, and was about to leave when he said suddenly: 'It's good to see you, lass. I'm sure Harry'll feel the same, you know.'

Her face closed up a little. She did not want to consider whether Harry's feelings for her remained. He was her friend, for now. Perhaps later, but at this moment she only wanted some comfort and safety.

Harry was waiting for her – evidently Moody had sent a message – and he crushed her in a tight hug. 'Fudge said you were coming.' They left the training hall, battered and black with smoke from curses, and walked in the sunlight towards a patch of grass where idle wizards could sunbathe. 'I heard you gave up your investigation of Lucius …'

Hermione's expression froze. It took her a few seconds to force herself to stammer: 'Well … yes. I think he suspected.'

'Why do you think that?' Harry's face was curious, pressing and twisting and trusting her all at once, and Hermione felt unable to lie to him as she had to Fudge. Besides, it seemed stupid for Snape to be her only confidant: that was an inaccurate representation of where her trust lay. Harry ought to know, if he was effectively going to protect her.

'I … he seduced me, Harry.' It was surprisingly easy to tell him, but suddenly she say another side to her situation, one in which she was now helpless. She was frightened, frightened of Lucius with whom she had been in love, and now tears began to fill her eyes at the thought of the havoc she had caused in her life in the last couple of days. A sob rolled up her throat, and then another, and without a shock she was crying in Harry's arms.

She could tell he was shocked, but he kept silent for a few minutes while her raw terror subsided. 'What happened?'

Slowly she told him, explaining about his power over women which she had not believed to be so strong until now, and about his interrogation even as they made love. She had to edit the story a little, to avoid the part where they had, in a world of shades of grey, fallen in love, and finally managed to portray herself as relatively blameless.

When she had finished, Harry hugged her again, harder. 'That bastard … I suppose we should have expected him to try that … but he's wrong if he thinks he's going to get to you. Of course you can stay here. There'll be loads to do, 'Mione. You're an Auror. You'll be fine. Go and see Remus – he might be in a meeting, but he's the official in charge of the camp. He'll tell you how you can help.'

*****

Later, in a quiet corner of the mess, Harry asked her again about the events with Lucius. 'Have you told anyone else?'

Hermione stole a glance around the room – it reminded her too much of the events in the Leaky Cauldron – and then nodded reluctantly. 'Snape knows … he met me just as I was coming out of Lucius' room. He worked it out, you know what he's like.'

'Do you think he'll tell anyone else?'

Hermione considered back to her conversation with Snape. 'I don't think so … he said he'd leave me to make my own decision. I don't really trust him, though, he seems … well, I don't know what he was doing outside Lucius' rooms. He said he had some sort of business there …'

Harry sighed. 'He does it all the time. He feels it's beneath him to tell people about everything he does … he's so bloody stubborn.'

'You can say that again,' Hermione agreed dryly. 'Irritating when it's just small things, but dangerous when we're talking about a notorious but unproven Death Eater.'

'Do you want to do anything about him? Because I'm really not sure his behaviour is acceptable at the moment, not when we're supposed to be being really careful.' Harry looked a little uncertain. 'It's difficult … sometimes I think Dumbledore is blind not to see the odd things that Severus does.'

'Yes …' She thought back to the conversation, remembering her suspicions about Severus' motives. 'It was almost as if he was challenging me to find out, deliberately provoking my curiosity …'

'Do you want to try to find out?' Harry's voice was carefully neutral.

'No!' she replied vehemently, on her first impulse. 'Not if it means going near him again.'

She knew as soon as she'd said it that it was irrational. She was an Auror. She was not supposed to be fazed by a mere Death Eater; in fact, she was supposed to go where they were to try to destroy them. If Snape was working with Lucius on something that could damage them, or his contribution to their effort, then it had to be stopped. Connections between the two sides were unacceptable.

Oh, you hypocrite, Hermione.

She had made a mistake, and now she realised her folly. It put her in the most difficult position imaginable: having to choose between personal and professional fear. Positive feelings were easier to gauge, but she did not know how to decide which fear was the more crippling. If she met Lucius again …

And yet, if she did not investigate Severus, it was altogether possible, even probable, that they would have two destructive enemies, working together, betraying everybody. Severus had a fantastic brain, and Lucius had the confidence and the skill of his body to carry off anything they could plan; together they would be a nightmare.

The only thing that was perhaps preventing them from forming such a dangerous alliance was Severus' uncertainty about where his loyalties lay. If he were back at Hogwarts it would be more difficult for him, for there was Albus Dumbledore, the man whom Severus respected most. So he might be more vulnerable there.

She let her head sink down onto the table. 'Oh God, I hate my job …'

Harry slid a hand under her chin, and looked squarely into her eyes, smiling ironically. 'You don't. You bloody love your job. What else would you rather do?'

And it was true. She could admit it even now, when she was undecided between anxiety and pure, lust-ridden terror. She revelled in the fantastic, overwhelming challenge that it brought her, the surf of the very essence of the war. Her mind would be bored by anything else. This was where she belonged.

'I suppose I've got to go back, then, haven't I?' she sighed. 'Back to Hogwarts.'

Harry nodded a little glumly, and then rose and led her from the mess tent into the darkness of a November sky. 'Walk with me.'

The sky was clear, black and liquid, and Hermione's fear began to fade a little. Harry was here, and if she wanted she could easily have Harry back. Going to Hogwarts would be less difficult if she knew she had love to return to.

As she swept her gaze across the heavens, the moon held her gaze, earnest and piercingly bright. And at the same time, Harry turned to her, took her hand and kissed her.

It was not as she had expected. Harry's lips were familiar – she could recognise the reluctant smoothness, and they were warm and tender, but … it was not the same as it had been. Before, Hermione's heart had swelled at this ultimate expression without words, the immortal kiss … but now she felt nothing, not even physical enjoyment. Tears pricked her eyes as she drew back quickly. 'I … God, I'm sorry, Harry. I can't.'

His face was unreadable. 'Can't? Won't?'

She had lost this battle too. 'I've got to go.' She embraced him briefly, lightly. 'I'll see you soon.'

As she hurried across the camp to her tented room where her things lay still packed, Hermione was blushing, with embarrassment and self-disgust and frustration. How had Lucius managed to affect even this part of her life? He had driven a clean, cold wedge between Harry and her. And it would be the same with everyone. She could never face them properly, having slept with the enemy.

Was that what it was with Harry? He had accepted her. He still loved her. And she had thought, only a minute ago, that she loved him.

But now there was another possibility, and dread began to chew her mind: the possibility that she longed for another pair of lips, bruising, passionate and forceful.

Those of Lucius Malfoy.

*****

A/N: Well, there you are. Up next: Hermione's return to Hogwarts … how is Snape going to react?

~SS~