AN: Sorry this chapter was a bit later than I thought it would be, but it took a bit longer to wrestle it into submission. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I hope you will continue to comment. A big Hug to Erin for keeping me going when I got stuck half way through, the best beta a girl could want!
Disclaimer: Not mine, it all belongs the J. K. Rowling, Queen of the Potter Verse!
Chapter Eight: It must be a Mistake
Hermione had been home from school for three weeks. For a change the weather had been gloriously sunny and warm. When her parents had picked her up at the station she had been relieved to find her father had apparently forgiven her. When they had finally arrived home she and her parents had sat down and talked long into the night of all the things that had happened over the past four years. She had told them of Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone, the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry's godfather Sirius and finally discussed the events that had happened at the end of term. Her father had felt angry and upset about her going back again, especially in the face of the newly resurrected Dark Lord. After much more discussion he had finally relented. The headmaster had written to them assuring them that the safest place after Voldemort's return, was Hogwarts. He had also wrote asking that Hermione be allowed to come and stay at the Order's Headquarters for her own protection, one more week and she'd be going to join the Weasley's there.
Hermione lay on a sun lounge on the back patio reading Jane Eyre. It had been one of her favourites for as long as she could remember. As she sighed over Mr. Rochester and Jane finally meeting again and Jane's avowal that her heat is his, the flap of wings caught her attention. A large brown owl wheeled towards her, neatly landing on the table. Taking the parchment and thanking the bird, it flew away, out of site. Unrolling the parchment she frowned.
Dear Miss Granger.
This is a notification from the time-turner management regulators to inform you that due to your use of the time turner for extra lessons and studies you have gained 297 extra days, approximately 11 months. For a complete breakdown of your usage please send a formal request for a statement plus three Galleons to:
Department of Mysteries
Time Management section
Filing room four
Ministry of Magic
London.
As is required by magical law from the Time and Order Bill, number 3773, page 2, paragraph four. This time has been legally added to your age.
All the best,
Morganna Moonglow
Department of Mysteries
Documents and Filing
Assistant Manager.
This must be a mistake Hermione thought to herself. She couldn't possibly have added that much time to her age! Grabbing a pencil and some paper she wrote down how much extra work, studying and sleeping she had done, them multiplied it by the number of term days. By this point her face had turned a grey white colour as she then remembered how she had also used it at weekends and during the holidays in order to get all the homework done and put in hundreds of extra study hours. There was no mistake. Her parents were going to kill her. She had forgotten to mention it to them. Oh crap! She did not want to deal with this right now, everything had finally settled down. How did you explain to your parents that you were really almost a year older than they thought you were? Crookshanks jumped onto her lap purring reassuringly and trying to get her attention.
"Honestly Crook's, I'm getting as bad as Harry and Ron! Trouble just seems to follow me around!" Shaking her head and running long slim fingers through her hair in exasperation, she sighed, and then decided she might as well face the inevitable.
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"You're what?" Her father asked incredulously. "How on earth…"
Jane's mouth was open with shock and she looked from Keith's stunned face to Hermione's highly embarrassed one.
"Oh come on, it's not like I'm pregnant, and having my professor's love child!" She said huffily, her cheeks growing redder by the minute.
"Hermione Jane Granger, you've used up nearly a year of your life just from studying and doing extra classes. I'd almost be pleased if you were having an affair with a teacher, at least you'd be having fun!"
"But the values of those classes were im.."
"Hermione! We discussed this years ago, you're still a child…. Well ok not so much anymore but you were meant to enjoy those years not spend every minute studying!"
"I didn't mean to do this; I just got a little carried away! I'm sorry."
Keith shook his head in exasperation, and then shrugged. He'd realized over the last year that Hermione was very firmly her own person. But she definitely hadn't thought much beyond the opportunity for learning it had presented. Sharing a look with Jane he smiled then looked at his daughter again.
"Never mind Princess, no use crying over spilled milk, after all it's not like we can turn back time." Her parents burst out laughing at her dads joke.
Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes, her father's jokes were almost as bad as Ron's! But watching her parent's laugh at her expense made her smile and soon she was laughing too.
"Dad, your jokes keep getting worse and worse, you know that right?" She said teasingly. Keith smiled and gave her a hug. With a smile Hermione relaxed, that had definitely gone better than she thought.
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August 1st.
The Grangers were sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when the second letter arrived. A snowy owl, not unlike Harry's, flew through a grey overcast sky. The news that this owl brought was going to have more far reaching consequence's than the last.
Unconcerned by the owl's arrival, Hermione simply took the letter back to the breakfast table and opened it while trying to drink her tea. Her eyes scanned the letter then stopped. She turned it over and read the address again.
Hermione Janica Meadows Prewett
34 Brook Street
The Kitchen
Stainpip
Durham.
As the blood drained from her face she felt her stomach doing flip-flops. She shook her head again, coldness rushing into her veins. This time it had to be a mistake. Lowering the cup to the table with shaking hands she raised her eyes to see two pairs of very blue eyes staring back at her.
"Hermione! What's wrong, has something happened to one of your friends?" Jane asked her worriedly. She sat mute. For the first time in seventeen years, Hermione Granger was asked a question that she didn't answer.
"Hermione?" Her father said, his voice sharp, trying to get through to her.
With what seemed a great effort she looked at them both and then, her voice quiet, finally responded.
"You both have blue eyes." She said it accusingly, angrily. There was something they hadn't told her, the letter resting in her hands told her that much.
Their faces identically creased in surprise.
"Mine are brown." She prompted them. Why had she never noticed it before? It was one of the things she had learned in her only year at muggle secondary school. The teachers voice came back again as she remembered the biology lesson.
'Now, a trait like brown eyes is always passed on because the brown allele is the dominant gene. A person with blue eyes and a person with brown eyes would have a brown-eyed child. Two people with brown eyes would have a child with brown eyes unless both had the recessive blue allele. That means there would be a one in three chance for such a couple to have a blue-eyed child. On the other hand, two parents with blue eyes can not produce a brown eyed child."
"You're not my father, and if what this letter says is true, you aren't even my mother!" She thrust the letter across the table to them and stood up, fear and anger making her panic. Every foundation she had, had just been pulled out from under her. Her mother and father had just sat there, neither denying her accusation. She paced the room a few times as they read the letter. Jane began to cry quietly and Keith put a comforting hand around her shoulder.
"Hermione let us explain!" Jane tried to reach out to her daughter but Hermione recoiled from her touch.
"No, not right now, I need to think first, just, leave me alone right now." She took the letter back and went up to her room. Right now she didn't trust herself to stay clam. She could feel her magic tingling under her skin looking for an escape. As angry as she was with them, she had to calm down first before she spoke to them in case she lost control. Pacing the small bedroom, still so childishly eleven, she wanted to scream with frustration. Taking a firm hold of herself she managed to sit down and opened the letter, intent on reading it again.
Dear Miss Prewett,
May I congratulate you on attaining your majority? As you should be aware your mother made you her sole heir upon the event of her passing, your inheritance to come under your control upon your coming of age. Due to your legal age being recalculated by the Ministry, the inheritance scrolls were also readjusted. I have made an appointment for you to come and hear the terms of the will this afternoon at 2.30pm, and to have all legal documents signed.
Silento, Confidelo, Winning
109 Horizont Alley
Just one street down from Diagon Alley, and to your left.
Prewett, Prewett, where had she heard that name before? Ollivander! He had called her Miss Prewett the day she had gone to get her wand. He had known! Who else had known, Ron? Dumbledore? Wasn't Molly a Prewett? None of it made sense. If her parents were dead why was she here, there must be family. Even if there wasn't why have her adopted by muggles? Her shoulders seemed to droop, the anger melting away. There was obviously a much bigger reason behind all this. She had to talk to her parent's; maybe there were reasons for their silence.
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Albus Dumbledore paced back and forward in front of his desk. His usual calm demeanour was shot to hell. He had received not one, but two letter this morning both bearing bad tidings. The first from a contact within the ministry telling his that there were plans afoot to overthrow his position within Hogwarts. This, of course, was Fudge's doing. The man was a weak-minded fool; instead of accepting the truth of the situation about Voldemort's return, he was trying to undermine the credibility of young Harry and himself. Blatantly ignoring the threat from the Dark Lord! The second letter had come from Hermione's solicitors, informing him that due to the conditions of the will, she was now old enough to oversee her inheritance herself.
What to do? How could he possibly contain this situation? By now the owl would have reached the young witch and she would know her true identity. What would her response be? What he knew of the young woman told him it would not be pleasant. However circumstances demanded that he speak with her before she told her friends of the truth!
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"What can we do? We'll have to tell her now, everything. Why hasn't the man contacted us? How can we possibly answer all her questions?" Jane angrily stirred her cup of tea, sloshing some of the contents over the side. "Owe!" She hissed with pain as the burning tea scalded her hand. Keith took the cup from her and poured in the milk, completely at a loss on how to help his wife.
"Mum? Dad? I am ready to hear your explanations now." Hermione had entered the kitchen, still clutching the letter in one hand. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she was completely in control of her emotions now. "I want know why you adopted me."
Jane sat down on the stool, fingers white as they clutched her cup, her mouth a tight line across her face. Meeting her daughter's eyes she began haltingly to explain the circumstances surrounding Hermione's birth.
"At the time you came to me, I was married to a very abusive man. I had been pregnant, but one night he locked me in a room and left the house after a particularly brutal beating. I gave birth to a stillborn baby girl. I was dying when a young man appeared. He promised to give me my revenge if I would take you as my own daughter and protect you. He said that you had to be hidden from your own world as your mother had been murdered that night. He told me that you would be in danger if anyone ever knew of your existence. You were nearly two months old; a spell of some sort convinced the doctors you were new born. That's really all we knew until the day before you got your Hogwarts letter. He had written to us then to warn us that you were about to find out about your magic. He told us we must continue to keep it a secret from you for your own protection. That you would be safe at Hogwarts, he was a teacher there. We never heard from him again."
Hermione didn't know what to say. Why was it so important that her identity be protected, even from her? But knowing the truth now she couldn't blame her parents. Jane had been a wonderful mother and in all the years they had been together she had never once broken a promise. This would have been no different. In possession of more information her formidable intellect began sorting through the facts.
She was most likely pure blood.
She had been hidden before Voldemort's first defeat, so her parents must have been opposed to him.
Some faceless man had protected her, most likely at the price of his own safety should he have been found out.
He was a teacher at Hogwarts. Which meant it could be only one man. Professor Snape.
Snape was a spy for the Order.
Her family names were Meadows and Prewett.
She was probably still in danger.
She could tell no one of her real name.
She would have to conceal everything from Harry and Ron.
There were many more pieces of the puzzle to figure out, pushing it all to the back of her mind she put it behind a door marked The Truth.
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Diagon Alley was not as busy as usual, but then Hermione had never come here so early in the summer before. Past Gringotts bank she found Horizont Alley. Standing outside the small wizarding establishment she read the plaque on the door, heavily layered in gold leaf.
Silento, Confidelo, Winning
Wizards at Law
Since 1653
A small witch with iron-grey hair sat at a desk inside the tiny room. Two dicta quills were busily writing away under her careful scrutiny. Without looking up she asked for her name then pulled a small red rope to the right of her desk.
Moments later an old wizard appeared wearing royal blue robes and a tall green hat.
"Miss Prewett, a pleasure my dear, come this way." He led her into an office, filled with rich mahogany paneling. Holding a chair for her he then sat at his desk and looked at her intently over his gold spectacles.
Under his gaze Hermione felt a little naked, he seemed to be seeing her with eyes that held too much knowledge. Finally he began to speak.
"My dear, you must forgive me for staring so but your resemblance to your great great grandmother is quite uncanny." He said warmly. Hermione smiled back at him.
"I'm sorry sir, but you have me at a loss, I never knew my grandmother." Or my mother for that matter she thought silently.
"Yes, she died before you were born. But you do share the same name. I believe that your mother named you after the lady herself."
"Oh? What was her name?"
"Hermione Guardbright"
Somehow, she wasn't surprised, more than once had she heard that name since coming to the wizarding world.
"Well, we must be getting on with things. I have here a letter from your mother and have the terms of the will. I understand that all of this might come as somewhat of a shock to you, if at any time you wish for me to stop and explain anything, please don't hesitate." Clearing his throat he took a sip of water and drew a parchment to his hands.
"I Dorcas Meadows Prewett, being of sound body and mind do name my daughter Hermione Janica Prewett, my sole benefactor in the event of my death. If this should happen before she reaches her seventeenth year I leave it to the discretion of Vaughn Silento to appoint a guardian until she is of age. Upon reaching her majority all monies in my personal vaults are left to her, as are all estates still in my possession upon my death. In addition, her late father's money and estates, which were left to me upon his death on the 2nd of August 1981, will also pass to our daughter."
"Are there any questions?"
Hermione looked at him then shook her head. The questions she had, he would not have answers for.
"Well in that case I just need you to sign these documents. They make everything nice and legal." Hermione took the gold quill and signed where he had shown her.
"Now as to the matter of the estates, will you be overseeing them yourself?" He asked.
"I don't know, I mean I'm not sure about such things, could you perhaps continues to take care of that?"
"Certainly." He brought forward more documents to show that she wanted his continued involvement with the running of her trust.
Twenty minutes later Hermione stood outside the office feeling a little dazed. In her bag were the keys to her parents' vaults and a list of the estates left by them. Some were overseas but three were in Britain. For a few moments she was felt completely undecided with what to do. Then with a determined twist of her heel she headed for Gringotts.
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Lucius Malfoy entered Gringotts, his proud stature in full evidence. Goblins and witches and wizards alike moved quickly out of his way.
He approached the front desk and made to step in front of the young witch standing in front of him.
Hermione was startled to see someone try to barge in front of her and pulled at his robes causing him to stumble backwards.
"I do beg your pardon, but I believe I was here first!" She said hotly, only then realizing that it was Lucius Malfoy.
Malfoy was staring down at her, his face completely outraged and shocked. The bloody cheek of the girl! Coldly running his eyes up and down the length of her, he sneered.
"I don't believe it's wise to take that tone with your betters, Miss Granger. You never know what trouble you might find yourself in."
"I don't believe myself to be inferior Mr. Malfoy, and it would be wise not to underestimate me just because of my background, you might find you're the one in trouble!" Angrily pushing past him, shaking with well concealed fear and anger she handed over the keys to her vaults.
"Prewett, vault, 556 and Meadows vault, 143." She requested quietly.
The goblin peered at her then nodded his head, he gestured to Gridstop, and the younger goblin led her away to the carts.
Lucius stood watching her go. His excellent hearing allowed him to hear just what vaults she was visiting. He smiled inwardly and conceded that the young witch was definitely not to be underestimated. His suspicions as to her identity now confirmed, he wondered how he could use this information to his advantage.
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Albus Dumbledore stood outside of Gringotts; he had made his way here when he found that Hermione had already left the lawyers office. It was imperative, he speak with her. The one problem in his mind was how much he could tell her, without destroying all of his well laid plans. He wasn't used to events taking unpredictable turns without his prior anticipation of them. It was frustrating to say the least, especially when he was balancing so many different secrets so precariously. It was rather like building a house of cards with a packet of exploding snap, knowing where to place the next card was vital to stop it all falling down around you.
Hermione blinked her eyes in the sunlight, after the darkness of the vaults it was rather difficult to focus. When she did, she realized that her headmaster was standing in front of her, looking rather like an owl that hadn't dropped a howler quick enough.
"Headmaster" She nodded in acknowledgement.
"Miss Granger." He nodded back.
Turning towards the Leaky Cauldron they walked in silence. By some unspoken agreement neither spoke until they were settled at a table in the Leaky Cauldron with two Butterbeers.
Albus almost didn't know where to look. Her clear golden brown gaze was focused and sharp, she was looking at him with the same expression of disappointment and censure his own mother had used when he was a boy. He felt disturbingly ashamed for some reason, and sad that he had disappointed her.
"Miss Granger, I am sorry that all of this has been kept from you, but it was for your own good. Try to understand, we knew your life was in danger and the man who made the decision to hide you in the muggle world did so without informing me of your existence, why it wasn't until the year you came to Hogwarts that I knew of you at all."
Hermione looked at him expectantly and when he said nothing she spoke.
"Headmaster, I want to know why I am in danger."
"Hermione, your mother was a very powerful witch. Voldemort killed her personally. I believe that partly it was for revenge, you see your mother's great grandmother, Hermione Guardbright was the sister of Tom Riddles grandmother, he hated that her line was respected and pure while he had been cast out; he hated his own lack of pure blood. At the time of your mother's death she had been coming to meet me. I believe that she had found some way to destroy him, but alas we may never know the answer to that. There is more, but I cannot tell you what. Nor can I tell you who rescued you that night, so do not ask me that question." Albus gave her his firmest grandpa stare.
"Headmaster, I already know who rescued me that night. It was Professor Snape."
His eyes widened briefly, stunned at her knowledge. "How do you know that?"
"It was quite simple; between my mother's description of her rescuer and his clothing I determined that he had been a death eater, one not loyal to Voldemort. I saw the professors dark mark the night you sent him back as a spy, I put two and two together sir, it wasn't very difficult, even Neville could have figured it out. Is that why he's been trying to tutor me, letting me think he didn't know it was me he was helping? Is it because he feels responsible for me or something?"
"No, nothing like that, Severus has no memory of his involvement in your rescue, or even any idea of your identity. You must say nothing to him! Everything we speak of here is in confidence my dear, you must tell no one, not even Harry. When you start school again we will discuss this further but for now it would be better to wait to speak more in depth in my office. Will you keep silent Miss Granger?"
"Yes, I'll keep my secret, but we will have that talk sir." Saying this, Hermione rose from her seat as the 'notice me not' spell and silencing charm the headmaster had put in place were released.
"Thank you so much sir, I can't wait to my friends I'm going to be a prefect!" She gushed as she waved goodbye.
Albus watched her as she left, Severus was right the girl should have been in Slytherin, she had just managed to manipulate him into giving her a prefect badge. She was meant to get one this year anyway, but by announcing it aloud here, made everyone believe that their little meeting had been about that, a believable cover at the same time as using it to her advantage. There was no doubt about it; she and Severus would make a formidable and perfect couple.
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'The Headquarters for Order of the Phoenix are at number 12 Grimmauld Place'
Hermione read the note then concentrated on the words. The walls of the building in front of her suddenly shifted as the house sprung into view. Molly Weasley answered her tentative knock, sweeping her into a breathless hug; she let Molly mother her all the way to the Kitchen.
"Hermione! It's grut t shee yo, h's yur shumer bn?" Ron was sitting at the table busily shoving food into him mouth as he talked. Hermione grinned at him and answered, used to deciphering his table talk.
"Good to see you too Ron, my summer's been pretty quiet, what about you?"
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Cleaning!" He said exasperatedly. "If you thought we were going to have any fun here you're far wrong. The place has been empty since Sirius' parents died ten years ago; the whole place is crawling with Doxys, Boggarts and other maddened magical pests. I'm just glad there's no garden or we'd probably be de-gnoming all summer!"
"Hermione dear, would you like some lunch?" Molly asked putting a cup of tea down in front of the girl."
"Thanks Mrs. Weasley, a sandwich would be great." She was famished; she'd started out that morning getting the Knight Bus as far as the Leaky Cauldron, then walking until she found the house. Her stomach was protesting hungrily for food.
When Molly was gone from the kitchen, Hermione gave Ron the look.
"So what's really been going on? Have you heard anything? Is Professor Snape all right? Is-"
"Mione'! For Merlin's sake give me chance. We don't really know what's going on, but Fred and George developed these extendable ears so we can listen in. They're just sending people out on missions to try and get allies, set up safe houses and stuff. Yeah Snape's-"
"Professor Snape Ron, he's a teacher and a Master of his craft, give him some credit."
Ron glared then continued.
"He's fine, reports back once a week about what You Know Who's up to. Never stays for long though. So, how did your parents take it?"
"Disturbingly well actually, Dumbledore wrote to them and said I'd be safer at Hogwarts so my dad gave in eventually."
Molly returned to the kitchen then to give then tasks for the day.
"Ron, I want you to use this Doxycide and do the curtains in the last bedroom on the first floor."
"Hermione you can do the first bedroom on the second flood." Handing them cleaning supplies she hustled them off.
Leaving Ron to his Doxy's she climbed the narrow staircase to the Second floor. At least on her own she could use her wand. She was reluctant to tell them that she was now of age and could use magic outside of school. It would bring up too many questions, ones she really couldn't answer at the moment.
As she entered the room, the smell of damp and mould assailed her senses, wrinkling her nose in distaste; she went to open the window to air the room. Taking out the Doxy spray she started scooting it over the curtain, and then started the laborious task of disposing the stunned doxies. As she charmed the sheet off the bed and sprayed the mattress for bed imps a dark shadow moved out from under the bed. Before she could get a grip on what was happening it assumed the shape of her mum lying dead.
Think Hermione, it's just a Boggart, she thought to herself. "Riddikulus!" She cried. Crack! Dad Dead, "Riddikulus" Harry, crack, Ron, by this point tears were streaming down her face. "Riddikulus!" She cried again, Professor Snape, dying, asking her to help him. "NO! Riddikulus!" Using every ounce of energy and trying to find something funny to laugh at the Boggart turned into Snape with a pink tutu and fairy wings then promptly popped out of existence.
Sliding down the wall, her legs like water under her she curled up and cried.
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The next week Hermione made sure she was with people at all times, although she didn't want to admit it her encounter with the Boggart had really frightened her. The week before school started, and Hermione was browsing some of the books in the drawing room. Scanning the shelves full of dark magic books she found a copy of Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. She smiled sardonically; it was the wizarding equivalent of Burke's Peerage. Sitting down on the dusty sofa she opened the book, looking for information on her family. Meadows, was first. Her mother had been the last of that line she quickly realized then onto Prewett. Rosella and Damian Prewett had three children, Gideon, Fabian and Miriam. Molly! Molly was a pet name for Miriam. That meant that Molly was her aunt. But she couldn't say a word. Thinking about the implications of it all, it made sense in a way her feelings for Ron. She loved him very much but more as a brother than anything else, he was her cousin. Just as she was about to close the book the next entry caught her eye. Prince, Severus Snape Prince, son of Eileen Prince and muggle Samuel Snape. Current Earl Rockingham (wizarding line), Leicestershire.
Hermione started when she heard the door open, looking up she was horrified to find Professor Snape nearly collapse on the floor. Rushing to him she helped him stand and then take a seat. His body was shaking with tremors she had only ever read about, but she realized almost right away the after effects of a long bout of cruciatus.
Adrenalin was rushing through her, acting quickly she ran to the kitchen were she knew there were antidotes that helped ease the effects. Rummaging in the cupboard she flung bottles and packets out of her way in frustration. Finally she found the small bottle of clear sky blue liquid, labeled crucio – otium. Otium… ease, it was Latin for ease. Clutching the small vial, she went back to the room and kneeling beside him urged him to drink.
"Professor, please, you have to drink this." A voice managed to penetrate the fog of pain clouding his mind. The instinct to push away the help disappeared as a warm hand stroked his face, trying to coax his mouth open. Giving in, he swallowed the cool liquid and felt it soothe away the pain and spasms twisting his body. Finally managing to focus he realized that the person helping him was none other than Hermione Granger. Brushing her away, he tried to get to his feet, and then toppled back into his chair. Sighing in resignation he focused on her face. Her golden eyes were shining with unshed tears and she was beginning to shake from the effects of the adrenaline in her system.
"Miss Granger, I am quiet well. There is no need to coddle me!" He snapped.
Shocked at his angry words, her eyes turned a darker shade and flashed with fury. "No thanks necessary Sir. It's quite alright!"
"Do not take that tone with me young lady." He replied, his voice having lost some of its harshness. Taking a deep breath he seemed to debate for a moment how to continue, as she continued to glare at him.
"I apologize, thank you for your help. But I must contact the Headmaster, if you would excuse me; I need to floo him at once."
"Of course sir, would you like me to get you anything?" She said, mollified by his apology.
"Tea, if you would be so kind. Earl Grey, no milk, one sugar."
"I'll be back in twenty minutes then, will that be sufficient?"
"Yes, thank you Miss Granger, I should be finished with the headmaster by then."
She left the room, the light of the fire flaring up behind her. Finding the good tea service, she put a kettle on to boil water as she looked for the earl grey. When she had made the tea, she checked the time then cast a warming charm on the pot to keep it hot while she waited to go back in. The house was eerily quiet; she had not noticed how late it had become while she had been looking at the book. It was nearly three in the morning. Stretching her arms above her head, she felt the satisfying click as her spine snapped back into place. Rubbing her shoulders to find some relief from the knotted muscles, she thought again of what had happened in the drawing room. Never in her life had she spoken to a professor like that. But then nothing was quite as it had been anymore.
The changes had been taking place for some time, but she was now only realizing how drastic they were. She was an adult by wizarding standards; she was a pure blood whose parents had been killed by Voldemort. Her whole identity was different. Not because she was pure blood, or because she was an adult but because her whole perception of the world had changed. Her real parents had been murdered, the anger and pain the thought filled her with, was too unbearable to think on. She suddenly realized, in some small way, how Harry must feel. The useless feeling of revenge and rage, which until now had been held at bay were battling to be set free. Seeing just what had been done to Professor Snape made it real.
Voldemort was real, death was real, the utter helplessness of everyone involved with the Order felt that much more raw. Harry could let it all out though, she couldn't. It would take more strength than she had to suppress all the emotions that were demanding to be set free. Holding back tears of frustration she hissed with pain when she found her nails drawing blood from her palm, where her fists were clenched trying to help her maintain control. Shaking herself she lifted the tea and went back to the drawing room.
"Professor?" She called as she went into the room, balancing the silver tray on one hand.
He looked up and motioned for her to come in.
She set the tray down on the coffee table and began to pour him some tea. He watched her in silence and then taking his cup he conjured one for her. She raised her brows in surprise at his silent invitation to join him.
"Contrary to popular belief Miss Granger I am capable of being civil on occasion." He cocked one eye brown in question as he waited for her to take the cup. "Nor am I in the habit of biting" he added acerbically.
She blushed in embarrassment and took the cup, filling it with hot tea and adding two sugars. "Thank you Professor Snape."
They drank their tea in a frighteningly companionable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.
"It must be a record, you have yet to ask me a question," he teased her.
Hermione held back the sinfully girlish giggle rising in her throat and took a chance with his uncharacteristic behaviour to respond in a like manner.
"Contrary to popular belief Professor, I am capable of suppressing my curiosity when the situation demands."
The corner of his mouth twitched in response and a feeling of acceptance settled in her heart. Here was the professor she had come to know over the past year through his tutoring notes.
"Are you feeling better?" She asked quietly. He nodded once and continued with his tea. In the dimly lit room, two lost souls relaxed in front of a warm fire, each with thoughts completely their own, neither quite ready to acknowledge the beginning of a tentative friendship.
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When Hermione and Ron got news of their new status as prefects, Molly had organized a celebratory dinner. They all relaxed in the inviting kitchen, which had very quickly become Molly's sole domain. As people talked amongst themselves, Hermione felt an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach, turning she noticed Harry bent over something Moody was holding. She could tell from his body language that he felt terribly uncomfortable. Just then Sirius also looked over.
"What's that you've got there, Mad Eye?" He asked, reaching out for the paper. Harry stood up and left the room.
"I was just showing the boy a picture of the original Order." He said giving them a parody of a smile from his twisted face.
"Let's see, then." Everyone crowded round as Moody began to point out the order members, people from the original order chipping in with stories of those who had passed on.
Hermione, sitting by Remus, looked intently at the picture.
"There's Gideon, Prewett. Took five Death eaters to bring him and his brother Fabian down. Brave man, a tougher wizard I never met." Hermione sat completely still. Mad Eye was talking about her father. He had been an order member. A handsome Wizard with dark red hair and blue eyes smiled and waved at her. Fighting the urge to cry, she listened to Mad Eye again.
"….Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother, and there, Dorcas Meadows, you remember her, pretty and smart, Voldemort killed her himself." A witch with flowing blond curls and honey eyes, one hand resting on Gideon's shoulder, looked at them with a silent and secretive smile hovering on her lips. For a moment she met Hermione's eyes and then smiled at her lovingly. Hermione had to get away; excusing herself she ran up to her room and threw herself on the bed. The look in the picture's eyes told her everything. Her mother had recognized her, she had probably been pregnant when the photo was taken. A tidal wave of grief swept over her. Unable to stop it she wept and cried as the pain tore at her heart. The loss of those who had so obviously wanted her and loved her made her keen in agony. Anger and hopelessness drove her to beat at the pillows on her bed, desperate to hit out at the world that had stolen her future. Stolen her parents' lives and their chance at raising their daughter. Stolen the chance of her from ever getting to know them. Hours later when the worst of her tears had dried she fell asleep, still sniffing and starting as she dreamed of all that could have been.
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Dear Diary,
School has started again and there is a feeling pervading the castle of suspicion and unease. The rift between Dumbledore and the Ministry is so very apparent to everyone, especially with the appointment of the new DADA teacher. She was given the position by the ministry and seems intent on us learning nothing. None of the years are receiving any practical training in defence, only book theory. However, this is the one class where I know that just reading about it will not help us in the least if we are attacked. The students are being left vulnerable and confused. Umbridge is also trying to discredit Harry in nearly every lesson, she's giving him detention after detention and when he returns there is something not right about it all. I'm smart enough to keep my head down after the first confrontation with her but the evil old toad can't stop me from doing something about it. I'm not meek or mild or about to jump to please her just because she holds the rather unqualified, position of professor. If she wants a war, she'll get one. The Ministry can say as it pleases, but at times like this other voices rise up to shout the truth and smarter voices whisper in dark places. When the Gestapo terrorized and spread misinformation in Nazi Germany, there were other groups that sent out a message or truth. They were the resistance and that is just what we need now at Hogwarts.
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Dumbledore's Army.
Hermione's P.O.V
I debated the merits of a casting a jinx on the parchment, which was to hold all of the members' names. I had come up with the idea of holding defence classes in order to practice defensive spell work, which was being denied us. With all the names of the members on the parchment it would ensure no one gave us away, but just in case, it might be better to have jinx incorporated into the parchment, to prevent someone telling. I quickly dismissed that idea. If there was a spy in our ranks better to have them marked in some way so there would be no doubt as to their identity. Smirking with satisfaction I wove a sneak clause into it.
After the Meeting at The Hog's Head
By the time we got back from the Hog's Head I felt quite proud of myself. I'd take on a Slytherin any day and come out on top. I told them that everyone who signed the paper were promising not to tell anyone, especially Umbridge about the group. I think it was the right decision. If I had told them the consequences of breaking the contract no one would have signed. Next step, how to contact everyone with meeting times?
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The Next Week
After the first meeting my research finally paid off. I managed to master a Protean Charm and created fake Galleons which would show the date and time of the next meeting whenever the master key was altered. Harry had been quiet taken aback and remarked that is was rather like Voldemort's way of calling his death eaters. Which honestly is where I got the idea from, but if something's not broke don't fix it! I'd told him rather acidly that he's notice I'd decided to engrave it on bits of metal as opposed to on our members skin. I swear Professor Snape if rubbing off on me. After I realized what I'd said I could have kicked myself, I sounded just like him.
Dear Diary,
I've been continuing my work in the lab since term started but with one thing and another I've not had as much time. Professor Snape is still studiously avoiding the fact that I know he knows he's helping me. I never see him alone and I often wonder if the night I helped him had ever happened. He's been even nastier in class than he was last year, but I understand now why he does it. I worry about him a lot, twice I've seen him stumble through the grounds on the way back from what I can only assume are DE meetings. Last night I had to hold myself back from going to him. He had collapsed on the lawn not far from Hagrid's and just as I was about to put my cloak on and go down, I saw Dumbledore and McGonagall come out to help him. I don't understand why I'm drawn to him. He's not a nice man, nor a kind one, but there is a nobleness of spirit that I see in him. If only Harry and Ron would give him a chance. Harry had been learning occlumency from him but the lessons are not going well. On a few occasions Professor Dumbledore has taken me to his office for the same reason and I feel fairly confident that my own lessons are progressing well. Unfortunately the Headmaster refuses to discuss Harry or anymore about my own situation for the present, but he knows it's only a matter of time before he must.
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May
The secondary potions lab was brightly lit and Hermione was working on a batch of the Draught of Peace. She was stirring it counter clockwise waiting for it to change a pale yellow when a noise startled her. It was the sound of smashing glass and then of a door slamming shut. Turning off the flame as she had lost count of her stirring, she opened the door to look out. The Professors office door was ajar and slivers of glass twinkled in the torchlight. Frowning she made her way to the door and then knocked. Concerned that there was no response she went inside.
Snape was sitting at his desk completely oblivious to her presence. The look on his face was frightening. At a loss as to what she should do she slowly reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up suddenly and glared at her.
"What do you want Miss Granger? Come to laugh at the greasy git have you? Potter certainly didn't waste any time blabbing his mouth off did he?" He asked angrily. Stepping back at the aggressive tone she met his eyes and shook her head.
"I don't know what you're talking about sir. I was just next-door and heard breaking glass. What happened?"
"What happened?" He roared. Hermione stood her ground, she was not going to let him push her away, he was very obviously upset about something, the least she could do was try and help.
"I only want to help you sir. I respect you a great deal and to be honest it scares me to see you lose your control. I only want to help," she repeated gently. As she waited for him to either kick her out or say something more she remembered her mother's love for the old saying. 'You'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.'
"Your friend Potter had the audacity to look into my private pensive. I guard my privacy very closely Miss Granger. Stored in that pensive are some of my worst memories, and also some of the more dangerous ones. With Potter snooping around in there he not only invaded one of my more embarrassing moments but he also put at risk my role within the order. My reason for joining Dumbledore is stored in that pensive Miss Granger if he has seen it and the Dark Lord invades his mind, I am a dead man." He said the last so wearily that Hermione touched his shoulder again. She squeezed it in sympathy. She couldn't believe Harry had been so stupid and callous as to have snooped in such an underhanded way. It was much worse than reading someone's diary.
"I'm so sorry Professor, I can't understand what would make him do such a thing, he was in the wrong."
"Save your pity for someone who needs it Miss Granger.
"No, Professor, it's not pity. You're not a man anyone could feel sorry for. You are who you are and you don't apologize for it or make excuses, I could never pity you. Besides, I only pity people who I have no care for…" she stopped, this had definitely gone too far. She had said much more than she had meant to.
"Be careful Miss Granger, I am not a nice man; your feelings would be wasted on me." His voice was so low and barely above a whisper, but the rue in his tone was her undoing.
"No, I don't believe they are." He met her eyes then, and the longing for something more than simple survival was present in his eyes. He put his large pale hand over hers, stroking the back of it gently. His fingers were surprisingly warm and the calluses on the pads or his fingers felt rough against her skin. Tiny jolts of energy shot through her at his touch, and a burning desire to know him better invaded her soul
"Thank you Hermione, you will never know how much that means to me."
"Don't thank me, Professor; just let me be your friend."
He didn't answer her, just stared at her intently for a moment and then looked away.
"You had best return to Gryffindor Tower Hermione, it's almost past curfew."
"Yes Professor Snape" she said quietly walking to the door.
"Hermione," she stopped, her hand mere inches from the door.
"You may call me Severus in private."
As she returned to her dorm, a flicker of happiness grew in her heart; he was going to accept her friendship.
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Dear Diary,
I've been in the hospital wing for a few days now. We fought at the Ministry, against Death Eaters. I was hit by a curse; Madam Pomfrey's feeding me ten potions a day. Sirius Black died, killed by his own cousin. There's nothing I can say to Harry, I don't even know how to try. He seems so lost without him. I'm not sure what this will do to him, but whatever it is, it won't be good. When I stood there in Umbridge's office, I was sure we would win through. Before Snape had left the office he had looked at me for one tiny second his lips sneering but his eyes full of concern. I knew he had understood Harry's message that he would try and get to the Order.
As it all turned out Sirius had never been at the ministry, Voldemort was just using Harry's dreams against him. None of us came out of the battle unscathed. I'm sure Harry is blaming Snape for Sirius's death, but if he had simply swallowed his pride and apologized and asked Snape to take him back this might never have happened. However, there is no use in what ifs and if only. We'll be going home soon I don't know what will happen over this summer, but I still have to have that chat with Dumbledore, there seems to be more answers I need to make sense of the puzzle my life has become. I hope I have the chance to see Severus over this holiday and try to make our friendship stronger. If he dies now it will only serve as another murder I need to get revenge for. I think I want to start researching potions and charms, perhaps if I could find the right one there might be a way to help Harry.
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Lucius Malfoy was in his cell in Azkaban, furiously pacing back and forth. He had done his best in the bloody ministry to keep things from getting out of hand. He had planned to get the prophecy from Potter, and switch it with a fake one to give to the dark lord, the real one to go to Dumbledore. He even gave Potter a bargaining chip, when he 'accidentally' let it slip that they needed the prophecy intact. He'd given the boy every opportunity to see that he was trying to cover for them and help them; he even deflected one of Bella's curses for him. When things had gotten out of hand he managed to get in control again and had tried to stall for time, hoping the order would turn up. Now he was waiting for Dumbledore to come and give him his next mission. He just hoped that Draco and Narcissa were all right. If anything happened to them he would regret not telling them the truth about his true loyalties, for the rest of his life.
TBC
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