Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to the immeasurable genius of JK Rowling; I just like to borrow them and play with them.
Chapter 42
It was with a mixture of relief and fear that Hermione realised the date Harry would likely face Voldemort for the final time – the date which would ultimately determine where the lives of every witch and wizard went from there – was little over two weeks away.
Lily Potter's birthday would have been on the second of June, the Monday after exams finished and all Hogwarts' students went home for the summer holidays. While most of the seventh-year students were already preparing for the gruelling week of NEWT practical and theory exams, Hermione, Harry and Ron had thus far paid precious little attention to such formalities.
After seven years of obsessive studying, Hermione's outlook on what was important in life had changed dramatically over the past six months, forcing her to reconsider the priorities she had previously been so sure of. Her time was divided between her friends, meetings with the Headmaster and her brewing for the Hospital Wing, which now encompassed preparing potions commonly required during the school examinations period. Despite strict Ministry controls, Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts and even Charms practicals could all be dangerous if a student lost concentration or made an error, and Madam Pomfrey insisted they be adequately prepared. Hermione still endeavoured to spend some time with Ginny, helping the younger girl revise for her own exams, and time alone with Severus was pleasant but rare. Whenever she thought she had a few minutes to sit down and read through her revision notes, something else came up and she set them aside.
In the end, just a week before the exams began, it was Severus who finally convinced her to take some time for herself and go over her seven years' worth of well-organised revision, assuring her neither he nor her friends would begrudge her that. There would still be a life after the war had ended, he told her, and that time was near. Just because most of their time and effort was concentrated on that end didn't mean she shouldn't look past it to her future.
Normally she would have taken his words to heart, recognising his concern and knowing he meant the best for her. Tonight, though, she was tired and frustrated, unable to find time to do everything she felt obligated to be doing, and it irked her that his comments seemed to imply so little importance in her other duties.
"And what about you?" she countered angrily when he told her again not to ignore her future at the expense of the moment. "You don't look past the end of the war. How can I look to the future when you won't look forwards with me?"
It was one of their rare evenings alone; she usually treasured such time, seldom as it was these days, but she was on edge and spoke before she thought. He stood from where he'd been sitting beside her on the couch, striding wordlessly across the room and folding his arms as he stared out the window. Hermione could see his reflection against the darkness outside, his face half-obscured by his hair.
"We've been through this before, Hermione," he said in a low voice. "I am not prone to optimism – I never have been; I said I would try, but you cannot expect me to change overnight."
She got up quickly and went to stand beside him, touching his arm lightly. It hadn't been her intention to offend him, and spoke earnestly to try and diffuse the situation.
"I don't want you to change," she said. "It's just nice to take a step away from reality for a moment and pretend – imagine – what it would be like if Voldemort was defeated and we could just live however we pleased."
"I don't-" he began.
"I know it's wishful thinking," she cut in, "but just humour me, please? Tell me… where will you be in a month?"
He held her gaze, his eyes lit in the glow of the wall torches across the room, either side of the fireplace.
"Where will you be in a month?" she persisted. "Exactly a month from now."
He sighed, but then his expression softened and his face became pensive as he appeared to take her question seriously. A brief smile flitted across his features before he spoke.
"In a month," he began, "I'll be sitting at the High Table, in my usual place, watching this year's graduates cross the dais to accept their parchments from the Headmaster. You'll be one of them, of course, and I'll be forced to bite my tongue so as not to smile as you step up to receive your top-grade NEWTs, some of the highest in Hogwarts' long and distinguished history."
Hermione snorted wryly. The NEWT graduation ceremony was traditionally held a month after the end of the school year, when the exam results were known and the former students could be presented with their parchment and honours.
"Go on," she prompted.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him and continued, "I'll try not to look too disgusted as Potter and Weasley manage to graduate, mostly thanks to your hard work on their behalf."
"Afterwards, when the festivities are in full swing, you'll boldly approach me at the High Table and ask me for a dance, spouting some rubbish about the Head Girl and tradition. I, of course, will only accept under the Headmaster's warning frown, and the rest of the faculty and students will wonder if you've been Confunded and who managed to spike the punch to hoodwink even the Potions master's legendary sense of smell."
Hermione laughed as he tapped his nose, and then took up the story herself.
"And so we'll dance," she said fondly. "You'll hold yourself stiffly because you don't want to give the game away, but I'll persist and rest my head against your shoulder. I'll close my eyes, blocking out everything but the feel of your arms around me, and I can imagine you scowling over the top of my head at anyone who dares to raise a questioning eyebrow at our embrace."
"There will be a lot of scowling," he commented idly.
She twisted her head around to look up at him, seeing the tinge of regret in his tone also mirrored on his face.
"You'd rather I not make a public display of how I feel," she concluded, trying to keep the disappointment from sounding in her voice. She knew he valued his privacy, but perhaps she had foolishly believed that might change when the war was over and he was allowed to really live again.
"I don't generally favour public displays," he agreed, "however there are exceptions to the rule, and I would gladly make one for such an occasion as your graduation. Having said that, I just wonder… I don't want people thinking any less of you because you're… because of me."
She stared at him, dismayed. "Severus, if there's anyone who feels they can judge me on who I choose to love, their opinion is worth nothing to me anyway."
He sighed, running a hand tiredly across his face.
"You believe I mean that, don't you?"
"I do," he assured her. "I believe you mean it now, but-"
"And I'll continue to mean it," she said firmly. "Have some faith in me, Severus. Yes, I've defended my feelings for you to my closest friends, but not because I care what they think of me; I did it because I want them to understand what I feel for you. If anyone asks why I love you, I'll tell them, and if they don't accept it, they're not worth my time. I won't let peer pressure tell me what I should be feeling."
His lips quirked up in a smile as he said, "No, you never were quite as impressionable as others your age, were you?"
She smacked his arm gently, but couldn't help smiling at the carefully veiled compliment. They stood silently together, staring at each other's reflections in the glass. Hermione couldn't tell what thoughts were running through Severus' head, and he closed his eyes after a while.
"Severus?" she asked finally, almost frightened to break the silence and destroy the lingering imagery their words had created. "Will you really dance with me at my graduation?"
He opened his eyes again, meeting her reflection's gaze, and Hermione could have sworn his arm tightened imperceptibly about her shoulders.
"If I can," he said softly.
While Hermione's time in the lab was still mostly spent brewing for the Hospital Wing – the need for potions seemed never to end – Severus was busy with another round of Wolfsbane Potion, the most crucial to date. The full moon fell at the end of the week, and on Thursday night the plan was for Lupin to leave Hogwarts with the completed potion and liaise with those werewolves who would join their side of the war in exchange for the brew.
"They know if we win the war they will have continued access to the potion," he had said quietly one night when Severus expressed concerns over the werewolves keeping their end of the deal. "It is in their best interests to help us."
The number of werewolves Lupin had managed to recruit in his last two trips outside Hogwarts was astounding – almost a hundred at last count, and the most trusted of those had taken it upon themselves to recruit on his behalf during the weeks he was back at the school.
Consequently, Severus was required to make an enormous amount of the potion to ensure there would be sufficient dosage for all those who wanted it. Hermione insisted upon helping him when it came to casting the charms, and he accepted her assistance on the first night with little protest. On the second night, however, he would not be swayed so easily, insisting two sleepless nights in a row were a recipe for disaster when it came to both making the potion and her approaching NEWTs.
She argued that she could sleep late the next morning if she had to, and Pepper-Up Potion was quite acceptable to be used during the exam period, despite his dislike of such a practice.
"Fine," Severus said in a low voice. Hermione suppressed a smile of triumph as he continued, "If you wish do the best for both of us, fetch the roll of parchment on my desk. I need it for quantities."
The instant she stepped from the lab to the sitting room, though, the door slammed closed behind her.
"What-" she began, trying the doorknob only to find it firmly locked. Realising she had been tricked, she stormed over to his desk and picked up the roll of parchment. Unravelling it, she discovered it to be entirely blank.
"Of all the Slytherin things to do," she muttered angrily, walking back to the door and banging on it with her fist. "Severus! Don't be stupid. I'm not going anywhere, so you may as well let me in to help."
There was no answer, and as she listened, she couldn't hear a sound from within the other room. It seemed he had not only locked her out, but also blocked out her inevitable protest with a Silencing Charm.
She knew better than to even attempt to break whatever ward he had locked the door with, so instead she crossed the room and threw herself down on the couch. Staring petulantly into the empty fireplace, after some time she found herself growing tired.
Hermione sat upright with a growl of anger, determined not to fall asleep until Severus emerged from the lab, if only to spite him for keeping her out. Flooing back to her own room, she gathered a pile of revision notes and textbooks, and returned to the sitting room to make the best of the time she had.
It was a petty and childish idea, she reflected, tossing aside her quill just past one in the morning and standing up to stretch. Still, it was petty of him to lock her out, too; she only wanted to help.
When the door opened finally opened again, just past four, Hermione looked up from the textbooks and parchment she had spread out all over the coffee table. Her glare of defiance faltered at his exhausted demeanour.
"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse as he leant against the doorframe.
"Studying," she said. "Did you actually think I would sleep?"
"I thought," he bit out angrily, "you would use your common sense and take better care of yourself."
"I am taking care of myself," she snapped back. "I'm making good use of time that would otherwise be spent lying awake and debating whether I should force my assistance on you whether you wanted it or not!"
He huffed out an angry breath and pushed away from the door, walking unsteadily across the room.
"Don't be stupid, Hermione," he said over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bedroom. "Go to bed."
He closed the bedroom door, leaving it quite clear to Hermione it wasn't his bed he meant for her to sleep in. She stood slowly, gathering up her parchments and books into a neat pile, dismayed at his reaction. She had thought, after waiting up almost all night, that he would let her stay with him as she had the previous night, or at least help him to bed and then leave.
She waited a few minutes, undecided, then crossed to the bedroom door and tried the handle. Unlike the lab door earlier, it wasn't locked or warded, and after a moment of further decision she opened the door quietly, deciding it was worth his ire to attempt to explain herself.
When she approached the bed, though, he was already asleep, sprawled out over the top of the duvet, still fully clothed. Sighing, she sat down on the edge of the bed and toyed with the cuff of his sleeve.
"I wish you weren't so stubborn," she said softly. A trickle of perspiration ran down his temple, and she stood up again, resolved; at least while he was asleep, he would accept her help without protest.
Drawing her wand, she used the spell he had taught her to remove his clothes, cast a cleansing charm over his sweaty skin, and drew the duvet out from under him to drape it across his lower half.
He slumbered on, and she gazed pensively at his face for a moment before stowing her wand and retreating back to her own room.
Hermione deliberately avoided Severus' rooms throughout most of the following day, instead choosing to spend the time with Harry and Ron, encouraging them to go over some Charms and Transfigurations theory with her. Surprisingly, they readily agreed, Harry seeming happy to take his mind off the more serious, practical study he was doing with the Headmaster.
The afternoon passed quickly, but Hermione grew restless at dinner in the Great Hall, knowing Severus would be preparing to brew the final batch of Wolfsbane shortly. Unsure as she was of how he would react after her ministrations the previous night, she found herself unable to stay away.
Parting with Harry, Ron and Ginny in the common room after dinner, she went to her own room and then Flooed to Severus' quarters. He was already in the lab, and didn't speak a word when Hermione sat down opposite him and began slicing and weighing ingredients for the third and final brew.
"I apologise for last night."
The words came out of the blue, and Hermione looked up, surprised, to find Severus had set his wand and knife aside. He was watching her, his chin resting on one hand, and evidently had been studying her for some time.
"I was tired and frustrated," he continued quietly, "and I know that's not an excuse, but..."
She nodded as he trailed off, and he clasped his hands in front of him.
"I don't like being… smothered, I suppose," he explained with some difficulty. "It's not something I'm used to, and it makes me uncomfortable."
She could see him struggling to articulate what he was feeling, and that, more than his words, was a sign of his sincerity.
"Is there a difference between smothering someone and caring for them?" she asked. "If it comes across wrongly, I'm sorry, but I really do mean the latter."
"Perhaps I need to learn the difference," he conceded.
"And perhaps I need to learn when to accept no for an answer." She smiled wryly as he chuckled.
"I think," he said, extending a hand across the bench to grasp one of hers, "that we're both far too obstinate for our own good."
"Yes," she agreed, "and I think you have a potion to make."
"We," he corrected. "We have a potion to make."
Hermione smiled to herself and picked up the next jar of ingredients as Severus stood up, turning to the cupboard to retrieve a long, glass stirring rod. She hated arguing with him; they were both too stubborn to back down without a fight, but she felt when they did talk things through, they understood one another surprisingly well. Disagreement resolved, they set to work on the potion together, Hermione stirring and adding ingredients with care and concentration as Severus cast the charms.
The night was long and tiring, and the following morning, a ragged-looking Severus and an exhausted Hermione took two crates up to the Headmaster's office, both full of flasks brimming with the Wolfsbane Potion. Lupin was waiting, calm but vaguely apprehensive as Severus reminded him the dosage must be in exact proportion to the human weight of the werewolf to work.
The Defence teacher left the school a short time later, the crates of potion carefully packed into a large trunk that floated behind him as he strode down the path towards the main gates.
After returning from Dumbledore's office, Hermione stood at the window in Severus' sitting room, watching Lupin go and hoping things went according to plan. When he disappeared behind a bank of trees, she turned back to the room, catching Severus stifling a wide yawn.
"Sleep?" she suggested.
"An hour or two, at best," he said. "The Headmaster wishes to enlist my help with Potter's lesson later this morning."
The Room of Requirement had become something of a training room for Harry, working with the Headmaster practising offensive spells above and beyond those taught even in NEWT level Defence. It had become apparent that not even the Killing Curse alone would rid them of Voldemort, Dumbledore believed there were other spells, though, some bordering on Dark magic, that when used with the right intent might weaken Voldemort sufficiently for the Killing Curse to work. These were the spells he was teaching Harry in the privacy of the secret room.
The problem then arose from Harry's reluctance to throw the curses at Dumbledore in practice. Even with the old wizard's confidence and ability to block anything Harry did manage to send his way, Harry couldn't muster the intent required to cast some of the uglier curses at the Headmaster.
In a stroke of brilliance, Dumbledore enlisted Severus' help.
"I don't hate him," Harry explained when Hermione questioned the logic of that decision to her friend, "but there are still bad feelings there from what he's done in the past. If I can focus on them, I'll at least be able to practice the curses a bit."
Hermione didn't doubt Severus' ability to block whatever curses Harry threw at him, either, but she wondered exactly how far her friend might go under the guise of practice… and how far Severus might go, too.
Unlike the Headmaster, who had been simply teaching Harry the spells he would need to cast, Severus knew Harry would need to be able to cast and block at the same time. He cast hexes – albeit minor ones – with lightning speed, barely giving Harry a chance to do anything but maintain a shield. Even when the younger man stumbled and that shield faltered, Severus didn't let up.
"Do you think the Dark Lord will let you cast in turn?" Severus mocked.
Harry climbed to his feet as barrage of spells continued, giving him no chance to even form the words of any of the curses Dumbledore had taught him. With Hermione and Dumbledore looking on from a protected corner of the room, Severus goaded Harry on, taunting him until Harry grew angrier and angrier and began faltering in even his blocking spells.
"Pathetic, Potter. Even your mongrel godfather could have done better than that."
As Severus no doubt knew he would, Harry took the attack on Sirius personally, redoubling his efforts against the older man and finally managing to cast some of his own curses, too. In his blind rage, though, most of the curses failed to hit their target, ricocheting off the stone walls in explosions of colour.
Harry persisted, though, and gradually regained some focus as the need for Severus to cast and block himself preventing him from taunting the other man. The longer they went on, the more evenly matched the duel became. Severus was the more experienced, by far, but he was also tired and Harry's anger was bringing out the power in his magic.
"Shouldn't you stop them?" Hermione asked Dumbledore worriedly as a vicious curse shouted by Harry shot past Severus' momentarily faltering shield. The Headmaster shook his head unconcernedly.
"Harry is doing well," he said. "Very well. I wish I'd had the foresight to have Severus work with him earlier."
Hermione frowned doubtfully, but turned her attention back to the duelling pair.
"Come on, Potter," Severus goaded, a shield of shimmering blue bursting from his wand and swallowing a another nasty curse Harry sent his way. "If you don't start concentrating now, you'll never survive a minute before the Dark Lord. You'll be dead, just like your par-"
With a shout of rage, Harry screamed an indecipherable curse and a jet of white light shot from his wand. Severus saw it coming and was already mouthing the counter-spell, but Harry's curse shattered the shield that emerged from his wand and blasted Severus off his feet. Flying back across the room, he hit the wall hard, landed on his feet, but then dropped to his hands and knees.
Pushing out past the protective shield Dumbledore had cast around their corner, Hermione crossed the room quickly, reaching out for Severus' arm.
"Are you all right?"
He nodded but didn't raise his head.
"Just give me a minute." His voice was pained.
Hermione turned to Harry, who was still standing in the middle of the room, panting hard, his eyes flashing with anger and triumph. Dumbledore stood beside him, looking extremely pleased as he surveyed them all.
"Well done, Harry. That was excellent work."
"Excellent?" Hermione echoed. "What was that spell? You could have really hurt him!"
"On the contrary," Severus voiced from behind her, climbing slowly to his feet. "I do believe we are finally getting somewhere, Potter."
Hermione glanced from Severus back to Harry, who looked momentarily thrown by the sudden change of attitude from the older man and lowered his wand in his tightly clenched fist. It was almost as though Harry had forgotten Severus had merely been antagonizing him out of necessity rather than spite… Hermione hoped that had been his intention, anyway.
"What was that spell?" Hermione asked again.
Harry frowned and looked down at his wand, examining the length of wood silently for a moment.
"It was just a Confundus spell," he said perplexedly. "Different to the one we were taught in class – I found it in a book. I thought I could confuse him and then cast a stronger curse afterwards."
Dumbledore looked as surprised as Hermione felt, but it was Severus who voiced the surprise.
"Am I to believe," he began, looking anything but convinced, "you broke through my shield and knocked me halfway across the room with a mere Confundus?"
Harry shrugged, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"That's what I did," he said. "At least, that's what I was thinking about doing, and then… I don't know how… talking about my parents like that… I got so angry, I snapped."
"I daresay that was Severus' intent," the Headmaster spoke up, and Hermione saw Severus nod shortly beside her. "Tom will seek to taunt you, too, but he will not realise your anger gives you power. Now that you are learning to harness that anger, it is a powerful weapon indeed."
Later that night, Hermione was sitting up on one side of Severus' bed. Her Arithmancy textbook was propped open in her lap, but her eyelids were heavy after not sleeping the previous night.
Emerging from the bathroom dressed in his sleep pants, Severus stretched out beside her and was about to lie back when she reached out and stopped him.
"What's that?"
She ran her fingers over his back, where the beginning of a bruise was starting to emerge across his shoulder blades.
"Probably from when your friend hexed me into the wall," he said wryly.
Frowning, Hermione nodded. He had hit the wall quite hard… it was a shame Dumbledore hadn't considered the room might have required something softer than rough stone around its perimeter during Harry's training.
"Well, that's easily fixed," she said, setting her book aside and getting up, only to be halted by his voice.
"It's not necessary, Hermione," he said. "It will be gone in a few days."
"I know it's not necessary," she said gently, not wanting to end up arguing again as they had two nights ago. "I'd like to, though. May I?"
He was silent for a moment, but then nodded.
Squeezing his shoulder in a brief gesture of gratitude, she stood up and went into the bathroom, searching the cabinet full of jars and phials for a basic bruise salve. Returning to the bedroom, she found him leaning back against the headboard.
"Well, I can't reach it like that, can I? Turn over," she instructed, climbing back onto the bed next to him. She laughed softly when he scowled at her tone, and then knelt beside him as he lay down on his stomach.
She frowned at the darkening blue-black of the bruise. It probably wasn't all that painful; she didn't doubt he would have ignored it if she hadn't noticed it herself. Uncapping the jar of salve, she scooped out a small amount and rubbed it across his shoulder blades.
"Mmm, that's nice," he murmured as she worked it into his skin, his voice muffled he rested his head on his arms, face turned towards her. Enjoying the feel of the smooth skin, she continued kneading his back long after the salve had soaked in, moving up as far as his neck and then down to the waistband of his pants. He hadn't spoken for some time and his breathing was soft and even, his face concealed by a curtain of limp hair; she wondered if he had fallen asleep. Smiling impishly to herself, she ran just the tips of her fingers inside the top of his pants. When he didn't react, she grew bolder and moved her hand further down to rub his buttocks.
"Hermione."
His warning growl rumbled up from deep in his chest, but Hermione simply leant forward and kissed his back between his shoulder blades.
"Just relax," she said softly. Returning her attention to further up his body, she rubbed his shoulders and neck, watching his face as he hovered on the borders of sleep again.
When her hands grew tired and she was sure he had fallen asleep, she withdrew, climbed off the bed to undress and then slipped back next to him, pulling the duvet up over them both. Turning on her side to face him, she propped her elbow up on the pillow, one hand beneath her head. She reached out with the other to push his hair back from where it was obscuring his face, and was surprised to find his eyes open and watching her.
"I thought you were asleep," she said softly.
He made a muffled grunt into his pillow before raising his head slightly and adding, "Almost."
Feeling his smooth, warm skin beneath her hands had sent a tingle of excitement running down her spine, and she selfishly wished he wasn't so exhausted.
As though reading her thoughts, he said, "That was… exquisite, Hermione. I wish I could return the favour tonight, but I'm far too relaxed even to move."
"I know," she said, slightly disappointed despite being so tired herself. Trying to cover her disappointment, she snuggled closer to him and added cheekily, "You can make up for it another time."
The weekend before NEWTs began, the Headmaster put the final part of the plan to lure Voldemort to Godric's Hollow into action. It had been decided that Malfoy, having gained the trust of the Order and especially Hermione, would come by news of the plan and take that news to his father and Voldemort.
In order to convince Voldemort further, Malfoy staged a conversation with Hermione in the Potions classroom on Friday night. Both students were using a rare free hour to practice brews for the up-coming practical exam, and while they would normally work in Severus' lab, they had moved to the classroom so Malfoy could show Voldemort the conversation.
In the Headmaster's office, deciding exactly what information Hermione should 'reveal' to Malfoy, Severus expressed concern over informing Voldemort of the Vow Malfoy had taken to serve Dumbledore. The Headmaster, having informed the Order of the Vow already, stressed it would more dangerous for the Head Boy not to mention it, in case his father or Voldemort had come by the information already.
Hermione, listening but not contributing to the discussion until that moment, considered both points of view.
"I think now that the Order is aware of the Vow, it would be foolish not to mention it," she mused, ignoring Severus' dark look as she disagreed with him, "but how is Voldemort going to believe you're not telling him about Godric's Hollow at Dumbledore's instruction? You couldn't go against the Headmaster if he told you not to reveal it, so Voldemort would have to believe we're using you to set him up."
"On the contrary, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said. "As far as Tom is concerned, and from what he will see if he looks into Mr Malfoy's mind, I am not even aware Mr Malfoy knows of the plan. It is you who has told him, in confidence and without my knowledge."
"It will seem to Voldemort I was never meant to know the plan at all," Malfoy added, looking at Hermione. "Only your misplaced trust has given me access to it."
Severus still appeared dubious, but it was still the most certain way any of them could come up with to convincingly set up the confrontation.
That evening, Hermione and Malfoy brewed in silence for some time, until the Head Boy enquired what it was that seemed to be troubling her. After some skirting around the issue, Hermione finally explained that Harry wanted to visit his mother's grave on her birthday, but that he wouldn't let his best friends go with him, not even part of the way.
Hermione rambled on aimlessly for some time about how she and Ron were like Harry's family and they always wanted to be there for him, but sometimes he just closed himself off and wouldn't let anyone in.
Malfoy, as they had planned, convinced her not to pressure Harry about it.
"It's obviously something he feels strongly about," the Head Boy said. "And if he feels he needs to do it alone, maybe you should just step back and let him go."
"I know," Hermione sighed, extinguishing the flame under her cauldron and crossing the room to retrieve a rack of flasks to bottle the potion. "I just… Harry going out there alone, it worries me. I know he can't hide away here forever, but what if something happens to him?"
"No one will know he's there," Malfoy said. "Nothing will happen."
Faux conversation complete, Malfoy sent a missive to his father, giving nothing away but saying he had news of great importance that could lead to the Dark Lord meeting Potter alone.
At breakfast in the Great Hall the following morning, Hermione, Harry and Ron all watched from the Gryffindor table as the Malfoy's large eagle owl swooped low over the Head Boy, dropping a sealed piece of parchment in his lap.
Opening the letter and scanning it quickly, Hermione could have sworn Malfoy paled slightly before he folded the parchment and secreted it in a pocket of his robes. Looking up at the High Table, Hermione saw the Headmaster watching Malfoy carefully, but the Slytherin was looking down at his plate, slicing his bacon a little too methodically.
Later that day, in the Headmaster's office with Draco and Severus, Hermione discovered Lucius Malfoy had requested his son meet him at the castle gates that very night. A second letter, to the Headmaster, stated the elder Malfoy wished to assess his son's readiness for the NEWTs, and ensured the Head Boy would return to the castle the following morning.
After a brief discussion in which Malfoy assured the Headmaster he was prepared to meet Voldemort and divulge the plan, Hermione left the office without the others, intending to spend some time with Harry and Ron, who were out at the Quidditch pitch taking a well-earned break from more serious matters.
Severus and Draco went back to Severus' quarters to discuss the finer points of the plan and await the time when Draco would have to leave, and Hermione headed down the stone staircase and out past the gargoyle into the main corridor.
A noise at the end of the corridor drew her attention, she let out a startled gasp as she found herself face to face with Lucius Malfoy.
What's he doing here? her mind panicked as she took a step back. He's supposed to meet Draco at the gates this evening.
"Well, well," he drawled, an amused smirk creeping onto his face as he drew level with her and stopped. "If it isn't Miss Granger. What a pleasant surprise."
"Mr Malfoy," Hermione said, lowering her eyes and stepping back to allow the wizard to pass. She hoped fervently he wouldn't pay her close enough attention to see her shaking. She knew she was safe in the corridor just outside the Headmaster's office… she thought she was safe… but just his mere proximity was terrifying after the last time they had met.
Instead of moving past her, though, he sidled closer.
"Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, my dear." He spoke softly, his voice dripping with insincerity. "It's been a while since… when was it I last had the pleasure of your company? Ah, Christmas, of course. Such a pity our friend Severus had to interfere… still, no chance of that now, is there?"
"If you're here to see the Headmaster, I expect he's waiting," Hermione said stiffly, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"Oh, I make a practice of arriving a few moments early for meetings," he said, the silver tip of his cane catching Hermione under her chin and forcing it up. "Just in case there are any… unforeseen distractions along the way."
She shrank back and felt the hard stone wall behind her, and Malfoy stepped even closer. She tried to twist away, but her head was tipped right back, the cane digging painfully into the soft tissue underneath her jaw.
"I don't think the Headmaster will condone you assaulting a student right outside his office," she managed to say, squeezing her eyes closed to prevent him from seeing her terror.
"Such accusations without proof," he murmured. "Here I was thinking we were merely having a friendly discussion."
"I have nothing to say to you," she replied, cursing the fine weather that saw the inside of the castle almost deserted this afternoon.
"Indeed," he said. "Perhaps I shall save what I have to say to you for the next time we meet."
He lowered his cane and stepped back a mere inch, but it was enough for Hermione to bring her hands up between them and push him away. She gasped, startled, as he caught her wrist in a bruising grip, forcing her close to him again.
"Do not believe for an instant you are safe outside these walls," he warned, licking his lips suggestively. "When we meet again, I will have my way."
He released her and Hermione heard the rustle as he straightened his robes. Keeping her face turned aside to conceal the hot tears brimming in her eyes, she willed him leave this time. His expensive boots clicked on the stone floor as he strode away, and she sank against the wall in relief.
"Good day to you, Miss Granger," he said as the stone gargoyle sprang aside and he stepped onto the staircase leading to the Headmaster's office. "Best of luck with your NEWTs."
Hermione heard him greet the Headmaster just as the gargoyle closed again, and then she was alone in the silent corridor.
Thoughts of joining her friends outside to enjoy the fine weather had vanished, and her steps automatically took her to Severus' quarters. The sitting room was empty, and she found Draco in the lab. The door to the passage and stairs down to the Potions classroom was open, and Hermione guessed Severus was retrieving something from his other office.
Malfoy looked up at her sudden entrance, raising a questioning eyebrow at her odd expression.
"Your father's here," she said abruptly. There was a clatter as the Slytherin dropped his stirring rod, cursed and retrieved it, cleaning up the potion it had splattered across the bench.
"Where?"
"In the Headmaster's office." Hermione pulled out a stool from under the bench Malfoy was working at and sat down, clasping her hands together in her lap and willing them to stop shaking. "I saw him in the corridor when I was leaving."
"Saw who?" Severus entered from the passage carrying a bundle of parchments and closed the door behind him.
"My father," Malfoy answered for her.
"Did he speak to you?" Severus asked sharply, dropping the parchments on the bench and immediately crossing to where Hermione sat, taking her by the shoulders.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
"Hermione? What did he say?" Severus prompted urgently.
She glanced at Malfoy, who said, "Believe me, whatever he said, I doubt it will surprise me."
Reluctantly, she relayed the basics of their conversation. When she had finished, she raised her eyes to meet Severus'. His face was dark with fury, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled quick, angry breaths.
"Charming," Malfoy muttered under his breath.
"Just… it doesn't matter," Hermione said quietly, holding Severus' gaze and willing his temper to stay in check. She swallowed, the discomfort of the action reminding her she had omitted the elder Malfoy's use of his cane to prevent her from leaving before he allowed it. She didn't intend to mention it, either.
"It doesn't matter?" Severus echoed, disbelieving. "Did he say anything else?"
She shook her head, looking away.
"Did he hurt you?"
She forced out a short laugh. "In the school, right outside the Headmaster's office? Do you think he'd try such a thing?"
The look on Severus face clearly gave away the fact that he expected nothing less from the other man, and Hermione pulled away from him, pacing across the room in an effort to calm herself.
"I should go," Malfoy said, vanishing the contents of his cauldron with a wave of his wand. "I doubt Father's polite conversation with the Headmaster will last much longer."
He watched Hermione awkwardly for a moment, before adding, "I'm sorry for what he said to you."
She shook her head. "It's not your place to apologise," she assured the Slytherin. "Try not to appear disgusted when he tells you about it, which I'm sure he will. You're supposed to hate me, remember?"
Malfoy smiled faintly, walked to the sitting room door and then paused.
"I guess I'll see you both tomorrow, then."
"You will," Severus said firmly, obviously sensing Malfoy's hesitation as Hermione could.
Setting his jaw, Malfoy turned again, and a moment later they both heard the door close as he left via the first floor corridor.
"Now, are you sure Lucius did not hurt you?" Severus crossed to where Hermione had resumed her pacing, halting her midstep by standing directly in her path.
"I'm fine," she snapped, turning from him and pacing a few more steps away before she stopped again. "I just…"
She shook her head, aware of Severus' gaze on her back as she burst out angrily. "How could Professor Dumbledore invite him into the castle?"
Severus sighed, beckoning for her to follow him out into the sitting room. She complied, watching silently as he conjured two tea cups and a pot. She nodded at his look of askance, and he proceeded to pour the tea as he spoke.
"In the eyes of the Ministry, unless proof is provided, Lucius Malfoy has done nothing wrong. He cannot be prevented from meeting with the Headmaster of his son's school."
"It doesn't make sense." She sank into the corner of the couch, drawing her knees up to her chest, and accepted the steaming beverage he passed to her. "We all know what he's done, what he's still capable of… if Harry had seen him today…"
"It is well that he didn't," Severus said. "Potter is not known for his subtlety; he may have unthinkingly given the game away."
"I wonder why he wanted to speak to the Headmaster this time?" Hermione mused. The warm cup clasped between her hands finally seemed to have calmed her nerves sufficiently to focus on the facts rather than emotions.
"That, I don't know." Severus drained his cup and set it aside. "Though I don't doubt Lucius would take pleasure walking the hallways of this school simply because he can. As you said, we all know what he has done, but without proof, our word is nothing; not even Dumbledore's word would stand up at the Wizengamot without proof, and especially not against money such as the Malfoys possess."
"I hope we have some proof of what he's done when this is over," she said.
"I believe we will," he replied. "If Lucius believes without a doubt that Voldemort will prevail, there will be no reason for him to conceal his identity or his loyalties any longer. His confidence in himself, in Voldemort and in his son will be his downfall."
Hermione nodded, thinking for a moment before she added quietly, "I don't envy Malfoy – Draco, I mean… when his father discovers what he's done…"
Severus' expression hardened but he didn't answer, nor did he speak for some time after that.
It was a sleepless night they spent together, waiting and wondering if the Dark Lord would take the bait, and whether they would even know initially, or if Voldemort would send Draco on his way without a word.
It was only just light the following morning when they returned to the Headmaster's office to await the Slytherin's return. To Hermione's surprise, Harry was already there, pacing around the circular office ceaselessly. When Draco did return, the tension in the room was palpable. There was a glimmer in his eyes as he looked at each of them in turn before speaking only three words.
"He'll be there."
Voldemort had taken the bait, eager to defeat Harry once and for all, and positively gleeful with the irony of doing so on Lily Potter's birthday… and at her grave.
One way or another, in just eight days now, it would all be over.
To be continued
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay with updating. I've been working on it almost every day since I posted last time, but it just didn't seem to come together until the last few days… mutters something about new scenes which weren't part of the original chapter plan …I miss being able to sit down and write for 8 or 10 hours straight until the whole chapter is done, but I just don't have that sort of time anymore… (yes, I really used to do that in the past. lol.)
On the bright side, the next chapter already has about 3,000 words, so hopefully it won't be as long a wait… but I said that last time, didn't I?
Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Last but never least, thanks to Potion Mistress, who always manages to take time out of her hectic life to beta for me.
