Disclaimer: We still own nothing, and never will. So there. Turns around, arms crossed
"He's dying Easter eggs," Harry said quietly.
"Huh?"
"While Snape was shaking me and pounding me against the wall, I got a better look in that cauldron. And it was so obvious, too – how we kept finding the eggs on the Potions floor, and Blue Lake and Red #42 are obviously dye colors. Snape must have been dying eggs in my dream, too! But then… but then Voldemort must be in on it somehow!"
Ron shuddered. "Will you please stop saying the name!"
"No. Quick – let's go tell Hermione! Maybe she'll help us once she finds out that we were right."
Ron snorted. "Okay. Pig's snout."
The door to the Gryffindor common room opened. Students were milling around. Hermione was sitting in a chair in front of the fire, with her head on her hands, staring blankly into space. Harry and Ron approached her.
"Uh, Ron, maybe I should be the one to talk; you might… er… screw things up."
Ron looked indignant. "What? How would I possibly screw anything up?"
Harry laid his hand on his best mate's shoulder. "Just trust me, Ron. You would. You would find a way." Ron looked disgruntled, but didn't argue.
Harry walked around the chair. "Er… Hermione?"
She jumped. "Is it time for the Transfiguration exam already?" she said, eyes wide with worry.
Ron stared. "Hermione… the exams are four months away…"
"Oh, yes… of course they are… silly of me…" Hermione ran her fingers through her hair.
"Listen, Hermione—we think we know what Snape is doing," said Harry. Hermione didn't respond.
"He's dying eggs!" cried Ron triumphantly in the pause that followed. "We told you!"
"Ron…" Harry cautioned, giving him a glare to shut him up. Ron obliged.
"Hermione… are you okay? Maybe you need rest?" said Harry concernedly, disregarding Ron's previous comment.
Hermione stood slowly and shakily, and stared at Ron. "What?"
Ron looked down and mumbled "Nothing… nothing…"
Hermione screwed up her eyes and shook her head, an action that would have made her fall over backward, had Harry not been there to catch her. "Whoa… careful…" said Harry, gently helping her into a vertical stance. He looked at Ron worriedly. "Maybe you should go to bed," he suggested to Hermione. He was beginning to be really worried now…
"No! No! I'm not going back there!" she cried, wild-eyed.
"What's wrong with going to bed?" asked Ron, bewildered.
oOo
The bell rang, ending Potions class. Harry was so wound up with leaving, that he hardly took notice of Snape saying "Granger, kindly remain behind," or the fact that he had left his wand behind on his desk.
"Hang on Ron, I left my wand back there," said Harry when they were halfway down the hall.
"Bad luck, mate," said Ron. Harry doubled back to grab the forgotten object.
He opened the door hesitantly, then walked into the room.
He had seen many things in his life at Hogwarts, many strange and frightening things, but nothing he had seen disturbed him quite so deeply as the scene that lay before him now.
Snape had his wand out, and was pointing it at Hermione's heart.
The fiery anger against Snape that had always smoldered in Harry's chest ignited, flared, burned out of control. Snape, the evil, twisted Snape, was the reason Hermione had been looking brainwashed, disoriented… why she had been bursting into tears… Snape was responsible for Hermione's unhappiness, and that Harry couldn't abide. Without a thought to the consequences, he snatched his wand from the desk, and pointed it at Snape.
"You hurt her and I'll… I'll…"
Snape laughed softly. "And you'll what, Potter? I don't think you possess the courage or initiative to harm me."
Harry did not put down his wand. "Let her go! What could a vile git such as yourself want with her?"
Snape laughed again. "Potter, do I detect that you harbor feelings for this filthy little Mudblood? Young love… takes strange turns, does it not?"
Harry took a step closer. His wand was still leveled at Snape, but he was furious to see that the hand holding it was shaking.
"Let—her—go." He stared straight into Snape's eyes.
Snape acted as if Harry was below his notice. Coolly, he turned back to Hermione. "Imperio!" he said lazily. Hermione's eyes glazed over.
"Hermione!" Harry cried. He glared at Snape with the bitterest hatred he had felt in a long time, but his hand was deathly steady now. "Perhaps you didn't understand me," he said quietly. "If you don't let her go… I'll hex you. I swear to God, I will."
Snape now turned his wand to Harry. Hermione slumped against the wall. "You will repeat what you saw to no one… is this understood?" Snape said dangerously; then he seemed to reconsider. "Never mind. Perhaps that simple order is too hard for you. Allow me to make your job easier. Imperio!"
Harry's mind suddenly felt delightfully weightless. No angry, hateful thoughts crowded his brain now… in fact, he no longer had any thoughts at all. Floating through the calm blankness, a voice, Snape's voice, came through. You will not tell anyone what you have witnessed. You no longer know that Hermione Granger was here. Leave.
Harry felt as if the best thing in the world would be to simply walk toward the beckoning door. If he simply walked toward the door, everything would be perfection…
A blur of color in front of him – Snape's cruel face swam into view. He felt another surge of hatred…
Leave, Potter. You'll find it involves walking toward the door.
Harry screwed up his concentration, and fought as hard as he could against the terrible blankness threatening to envelop him. He had had a purpose for staying here – he wasn't supposed to leave…
NOW, POTTER!
Harry struggled harder than he ever had in his life to keep the Potions room in view, but the terrible blankness was creeping in, seeping into the corners of his consciousness… Exhausted, he gave in… but just before the blankness wiped all sight from him entirely, he saw the unconscious body of Hermione, lying slumped against the wall… and remembered exactly what he'd come for. Triumphantly he shook the blankness off, jabbed his wand at Snape, and yelled, "STUPEFY!"
Harry didn't give Snape a second glance; he ran over to Hermione.
He crouched over her, and pulled her head onto his lap. "Ennervate," he muttered, pointing his wand at her. "C'mon Hermione… wake up… please…" He still felt lightheaded, but focused on staying alert. Hermione was in need of care- not him.
"Not so fast, Potter," said a malicious voice behind him. And it wasn't Snape's voice.
Harry turned slowly – and was blinded by searing, excruciating pain in his scar. He screwed up his eyes in agony, then, with a tremendous effort, opened them.
And found himself staring into the faces of Severus Snape and Lord Voldemort.
A/N: We thank all who have reviewed our story thus far. We would like to follow the tradition of many other authors as we now name them:
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