End of May

Lestrange Manor

A few weeks after the botched raid they were called to Lestrange Manor, this time to socialise with their betters. Well, that was at least true in Severus' case, but probably not for Reg, Severus thought sourly as he stood leaning against a pillar in the large ballroom. It was now completely refurbished to look almost as good as the one in Malfoy Manor, with lots of gold, dark cherry wood and carved cherubs. There was something missing though, he thought, something that the Malfoys had in spades without even realising it: a certain authenticity and sense of quality that simply wasn't possible to imitate.

There was a band playing in the corner, the Dark Lord was talking to some visiting European wizards and everywhere Death Eaters dressed in their finest robes were mingling with Ministry staff, famous and influential wizards, and others who weren't afraid to be seen in the right company. It was the first time Severus had seen the Dark Lord openly showing up to an event, even if it was hosted by his most loyal followers and all attendees had been carefully vetted, but it was still a clear indicator of where the winds were blowing currently.

He'd been there for a few hours and had a cramp in his calf already from skulking in the shadows. There had been speeches, both by some of the Knights of Walpurgis and by some of the invitees, and dancing, which Severus had carefully avoided by making himself scarce, and odd finger food carried on trays by the House-Elves. Not at all his kind of event, at any rate. Still, there was information to be gleaned from it. Who came, who didn't come. Alliances formed and broken, snippets of overheard information.

Regulus was there with his father. Lord Black was talking to the Senior Undersecretary, with Regulus standing nearby almost looking attentive. In the opposite corner, Severus saw Peter Pettigrew skulking in the shadows together with Wilkes. He pulled back slightly so that the Gryffindor wouldn't see him, but figured it was probably too late already. It had been difficult to believe Hermione's conviction that the little rat was not just a cowardly tag-along to the Marauders but a real Death Eater, but clearly she'd been right about that. Again.

Lucius was there too, currently talking to a visiting Ministry bureaucrat from France. He'd told Severus that Narcissa had begged off, claiming the babies were too small, but Severus wondered if that was the whole reason. He'd informed Severus that both babies were eating and apparently healthy, but he'd been frowning too and didn't appear too happy with the Muggle solution to their problems. Severus could only hope there wouldn't be any issues with their magic or health otherwise, old Pure-blood families didn't always produce magical heirs, but there was nothing he could do about it and he certainly had more pressing problems to worry about first.

Another speech interrupted the music, this one from one of the visiting Italian dignitaries, talking about progress and the bright future that lay ahead. It made Severus almost nauseous, but he pushed his unease down, pulling his mental shields up higher. Luckily the Italian wizard didn't talk for long, the music starting up again as soon as he had finished his toast to progress.

Bellatrix was dancing alone in the middle of the room, her husband and brother-in-law standing nearby, watching. Seeing her there made him think of something. He had to try, at least, even if he probably wouldn't be successful. She was a wily witch and not one to cross if it could be avoided, so he would have to be very careful.

Reg was standing in a corner, alone again, his father probably off somewhere in discussion with the Knights. Sticking to the edges of the room to avoid attention, Severus went over to him. "I need to go find something. Cover for me?"

Reg looked around. "What are you looking for?"

"It's… I have to find something," he said evasively. As far as he knew, Hermione hadn't told Reg about the wound on her arm, and he didn't want to break her confidence.

Reg eyed him sideways over his drink. "Alright, be careful."

Severus Disillusioned himself and went upstairs. The Manor was large, but the Lestranges didn't use all of it. The family used to be a lot bigger than just two brothers and a wife plus one Dark Lord. One wing upstairs was completely sealed off, both with magic and with rope tied to the door handles, so he went in the other direction. A large oak door opened into a corridor that was beginning to fall into disrepair, with flaking green paint above the wood panelling, flickering torches and a couple rather ugly landscape paintings on the walls. The floors were covered in a scruffy carpet that might have been blue once, it was hard to see in the flickering lights, but it was faded and threadbare from countless of steps across it.

The first door he tried was a small study, with a bookcase and a scruffy-looking desk by the window, but a quick search found nothing of value. Some debt notes, a few letters to the late Lord Lestrange, but no knife. He cast a few revealing spells but nothing of value appeared. His heart was trying to pound its way through his chest but he kept going, sneaking out again to try the next room.

The second door revealed a bedroom, obviously belonging to a wizard. The bed was unmade, a set of robes were hanging carelessly over a chair that stood in a corner, next to a pair of heavy black leather boots Severus thought he'd seen Rabastan wear at some point. There was a chest of drawers and a large wardrobe along the wall near the door, but Severus didn't find anything of interest when looking through them. They weren't warded, either, and the Death Eater mask carelessly thrown on the floor of the wardrobe showed it was definitely Rabastan's room.

Taking care to open the door slowly, Severus checked that the coast was still clear before creeping across the corridor to try another door.

This time it appeared as if he'd succeeded. The room was much larger, clearly the master suite of the Manor, with large bay windows overlooking the front garden. He didn't see any traces of Rodolphus, but a dress was carelessly thrown over the back of a chair and some jewellery lay scattered on the small dining table by the window. Casting the revealing spells turned up a Cursed comb that would cause the user's hair to fall off, but no knife.

Another door in the room led to the bedroom. From the looks of it, Bellatrix didn't share with her supposed husband. The bed was messy and unmade, but there was no sign of Rodolphus since only Bellatrix' clothes and trinkets lay strewn over the floor, dresser and small dressing table with a mirror that almost gave Severus a heart attack when it commented on his hairstyle. A couple other Dark items appeared when he tried the revealing spells again, but the knife was nowhere to be found. There was nothing to indicate she would have the knife at this point in time, after all, so maybe she'd picked it up later, in Hermione's other timeline. Still, he had to try. He had to save her.

He didn't notice the door opening behind him, not until he had a wand poking at his neck. Panic coursed through him, but he stayed still.

"What are you doing here?" Bellatrix hissed at him. "Sneaking about where you aren't wanted?"

"I… I thought I saw someone come this way," he tried, knowing it wouldn't work. Bellatrix wasn't stupid, plus she had the Dark Lord's favour. It would take a miracle to get out of this mess in one piece.

"Liar! You're a liar and a thief!" Her voice had risen to dangerous heights, both in volume and in octaves. His own wand was in his sleeve, and there was no way he could draw it before being hexed. "I'll take you to the Dark Lord and you'll have to explain to Him what you were doing in my private bedroom. Are you jealous I'm the one he trusts with his most valuable things and not you? It's not here anyway, you'll never get to it!"

He didn't expect the flash of red from the doorway, and neither did Bellatrix. The Stupefy hit her square in the back and she fell like a log.

Regulus moved closer, poking at the witch with the toe of his boot. "Did you find it, whatever it was?"

Severus took a large breath and his heart lurched back into motion. It had felt as if it stopped, earlier. "Thanks, no I didn't. Don't think it's here."

Kneeling in front of her he pulled up an eyelid. She was still out. A careful Obliviate plus a Confundus took care of her suspicions and finding him upstairs, instead making her think it must have been some other, unnamed Death Eater. He hoped it would work, Bellatrix was trained in the Mind Arts so there were no guarantees it would hold. Relief and adrenaline were surging through him in waves, hot and cold as if he was running a fever. Risking another quick sweep of the room still didn't turn up any knife, Cursed or not, and he left quickly with Reg.

"She suddenly stopped dancing and went upstairs so I thought it was best to follow her," Regulus explained. "If she'd caught you…"

Severus exhaled. "I know. Thanks, Reg." He was still shaky, sweat trickling down his neck.

"Think you'd better go now, I'll try to cover if someone asks."

With another nod at Regulus as he headed for the main rooms, Severus took the back route via the gardens and left for the Apparition point.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

The house at Spinner's End was dark and empty. He crashed in the armchair, too drained to turn on the lights or even think of anything else. He made it out, and hopefully Bellatrix would think it was someone else disturbing her wards. It must have been a ward that alerted her, but he hadn't seen any traces of one.

With a flick of his wand at the music player Hermione had given him the room filled with music chosen at random, a Fleetwood Mac album. Hermione… he was still no closer to having solved the problem with her wound, then, and he'd risked it all tonight, thinking himself invincible and much smarter than Bellatrix or the others. Closing his eyes he tried to focus, to find a solution, a way out of the bleak helplessness that threatened to overwhelm him.

He didn't notice the tears that tracked down his cheeks, not until a quiet cawing caused him to look up. Somehow Menace had flown in, sitting on the backrest of the couch. The bird tilted his head to look at him and cawed again, bobbing his head up and down.

Severus nodded slowly. He'd find a way, he'd be better, smarter, not getting caught. He would help Hermione, come what may.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Late May

Hogwarts

Hermione looked up at the House hourglasses high up on the wall in the Entrance hall while heading down to lunch. The Hufflepuff diamonds sparkled in a stray ray of sunlight, and for the first time she realised the sight of them made her proud. She didn't miss Gryffindor's red rubies, not with the friends she'd made in Hufflepuff. Since arriving she had contributed a fair share of diamonds to the pile, although it looked as if Gryffindor weren't far behind, and Ravenclaw was still in the lead.

There had been letters, so many letters between Severus and her. Both longer ones sent via owl and Menace, and short scribbled notes in the notebooks. She'd argued Charms theory and warding with him, he'd lectured her on potions and DADA theory, they got lost in Muggle fiction and music, and his comments on her observations of her fellow students were as scathingly snarky as ever Professor Snape had been.

He shared information from Death Eater gatherings, too, using the notebook for short, impersonal notes. She combined his information with that from Regulus and Kingsley and fed it all into her calculations. They'd had some small successes based on her information since Kingsley had managed to help arrest Yaxley and some lesser Death Eaters during a raid, something that most definitely hadn't happened in her original timeline.

She had warned Severus about Alastor Mad-Eye Moody, and had also written to Amelia about him to see if the Ministry employee could assist with keeping him curtailed. It concerned her that Severus didn't seem to take it seriously. She knew Moody's reputation during the first war, and when she'd met him later he'd been a powerful wizard with a highly prejudiced view on Death Eaters, where he'd very blatantly included Professor Snape.

The Headmaster had stayed out of her way, thankfully. The portraits didn't report anything either but she wasn't entirely sure she could trust what they said, or if their loyalty to the current Headmaster would override their concern for her cause.

She had a free period after lunch and decided to make the most of it. The library was quiet and serene, just the way Hermione liked it. Nodding at Madam Pince she headed for the History of Magic section where there was a table she liked for studying. Not many students came to that part of the library so it was often possible to have the whole big table for herself, even if it could have seated eight. Most of the other Hufflepuffs had Divination, so she had gone to the library to take advantage of the solitude.

Hermione dug out her homework planner from her beaded bag, cross-checking her progress in Charms and Transfiguration against what she'd calculated. She appeared to be well on track, but as time grew shorter until the NEWTS were upon them she also felt herself almost falling back into her old pattern of obsessive studying. She couldn't fail, not now when she was so close to finally sitting the NEWTs and getting proof of her skills, even if it was eighteen years too early. The time travel still made her dizzy sometimes when she thought about it, so she tried not to. For the most part she had adjusted to her new reality, but sometimes the tasks before her felt way too big.

The sound of footsteps got louder. Someone was coming her way. Hermione assumed they would pass her section, but they stopped behind her.

"Why do you even try?" Rhea asked. "You're going to fail anyway, no one would hire someone like you."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to find her Occlumency shields, pushing down the anger that was threatening to well up. "Unlike you, my life plans don't consist of getting married off to an old Death Eater and never be seen again, so I'd rather study now, thank you."

Rhea froze, mouth gaping, turned on her heels and stalked out of the library.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

During their next Herbology class where they had cared for Venomous Tentaculas which included brushing their teeth with a tiny brush and nutritional yeast, Professor Sprout asked Hermione and Fidelma to stay behind. Fidelma had kept her head down after Easter, not interacting much with anyone, and had started helping out in the Infirmary between classes. Hermione suspected it was as much to get away from the others, including Rhea, as out of an interest in Healing.

Once everyone else had left, Professor Sprout turned to Fidelma. "I have been receiving owls from your father. He was quite unhappy with me when you stayed behind for Easter but I managed to convince him it was absolutely necessary for you, however now he's been saying he wants to come to the gates to pick you up after term ends rather than letting you go on the train."

Fidelma gasped. "Please, Professor, don't let them do that!"

Professor Sprout held up her hand. "Don't worry, I told him he wouldn't be able to do that, and that you would board the train with everyone else. We shall have security in place at Hogsmeade, I've asked Caradoc to assist. Now, the bigger problem is what you will do once you're in London?"

"I don't know," Fidelma mumbled.

"I think I have a plan," Hermione began. "I'll take you to meet someone who has promised to host you for a while until we figure out something more long-term, but at least for a few months you should be safe."

She had been corresponding with Regulus via the notebooks, and he had suggested the Black summer residence. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best she could do. They hadn't written as much as she had with Severus, but he had kept her updated with what he knew from the Death Eaters.

"Good, do you need any assistance, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shrugged. "This won't be a long-term solution, Professor, so one of those would be good, please. Otherwise we should be fine as long as we make it through King's Cross station, so maybe some backup there in case something goes wrong."

The Professor nodded. "I'll make sure we have people there, and we'll stay in touch no matter what. Chin up, Miss Fawley, you're not married off yet. We'll get you through this."

"Thanks," Fidelma mumbled and pulled out a handkerchief.

They made it out just before the third-year Slytherin and Ravenclaw students arrived, blinking in the strong sunlight, and Hermione dashed off to Ancient Runes to hand in the latest essay to Professor Scrimgeour. Professor Sprout had been a pleasant surprise after her Time Turning, someone quietly competent with a lot of empathy. Hermione resolved to hand the Professor one of the notebooks before leaving Hogwarts, hoping to be able to stay in touch afterwards.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

The following day she woke up with blood on her pillow again, and when she went to the bathroom she saw that both sets of wounds had started bleeding again. Not much, but clearly Severus' magic had begun to wear off. Despite not really wanting to worry him she wrote him a short message in the notebook. His concern worried her a little, but she really didn't want to think about it too much. He'd solve it, or she would come up with something. She didn't have time to worry about herself, not when everything else was at stake.

After cleaning up the wounds she cast another Glamour on them and headed down for breakfast with the others, trying to appear as relaxed as they were. They didn't know what was coming, thinking only of leaving Hogwarts but not about the reality that lay ahead of them. Sometimes Hermione felt at least two decades older than the others, especially when all they talked about during meals was who was dating whom and who was the biggest star in Wizarding culture. Reality was starting to seep in even at Hogwarts, however, with reports in the Daily Prophet about raids and disappearances and new policies coming from the Ministry, but it didn't seem as if many of the students were personally affected yet. At the Head Table she saw Professor Dumbledore conversing with Professor McGonagall, but neither of them looked overly concerned. Professor Dearborn was talking to the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Professor Kettleburn, and over at the other side of the table Professor Sprout was chatting with Madam Pomfrey. It all looked very domestic, in a way.

Ernest took a seat next to her, even though he usually sat by Martinus and the others.

"Hi," he said, serving himself some toast.

"Good morning." Hermione was skimming her Transfiguration textbook, checking to see if she had covered the material for the latest essay. It looked fine, but what if it wasn't?

He took a deep breath. "Did you finish the Runes essay?"

"Yes, wasn't that yesterday?" Hermione bit her lip, hoping she hadn't missed something.

Red spots appeared on his cheeks. "Oh… oh, yes, it was. Look, would you be interested in heading to Hogsmeade with me some time? This weekend?"

Hermione's stomach sank. Another one who wanted more than she could give. There was no way she'd be interested in anyone at Hogwarts, not like that. Not when Severus… No, just no.

She smiled at him, trying to look contrite. "Sorry Ernest, you're nice and all, but I wouldn't go as more than friends. I'm going with Hestia and June after the Quidditch match, you could join us."

"Oh… alright." He looked down on his plate, focusing on his toast.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Hermione walked with June down to the Quidditch pitch late Saturday morning. She still didn't care much for the game and had managed to beg off going to games where Hufflepuff didn't play, but Hufflepuff was playing Gryffindor for the final match of the school year and they could secure some crucial points for the House cup if they won.

They found Hestia and her sister Gwenog, a first-year who was also in Hufflepuff, already in the stands. Martinus and Sturgis were on the team as Keeper and Beater, and Evie played Chaser.

"There you are!" Hestia exclaimed. "Gwen is saying she'll be on the team next year when she's allowed to try out."

"Yeah, I just need to get a new broom first, mine is like a hundred years old."

Hermione smiled. Gwenog Jones, that was a name even someone like Hermione recognised when it came to Quidditch. "You'll do great I'm sure. Think your family would get one for you if you get good grades?"

The young witch lit up in a smile. "Oh, good idea! I'll Owl Grandad, he'll buy one for me if I say Sprout thinks I'm doing well. He knows her, they were in Hufflepuff together."

"You aren't supposed to encourage her, Hermione!" Hestia protested, laughing.

Hooch came out onto the field and let the balls loose, and all the players were off. Hermione cheered with the others when the Hufflepuff players scored or managed to fend off the Bludgers, but her mind was half elsewhere, wondering what Severus was doing. He'd written about heading to Lestrange Manor the day previous but since then he'd gone silent, making her wonder if something had happened. The Lestranges worried her. Together with Dolohov, Greyback and a few others, they seemed to be among the most dangerous of Voldemort's followers, and something definitely needed to be done about them before they managed to repeat the atrocities they had performed in her original timeline.

The crowd roared and Gwenog was applauding frantically, but Hermione had missed Evie almost falling off her broom before she managed to score ten points. She cheered with the rest of them, but soon her thoughts returned to Severus and everything else. Her crush on him hadn't passed, if anything it had grown stronger. It had been difficult to see him when he dragged her along to the Malfoys, but she'd been comforted by his presence even if it was his fault she had to endure something she had never wanted to do. When she had thought he was talking about himself having a baby it had felt as if the ground had just opened to swallow her. There wasn't anything she could do about it until after she'd left Hogwarts, however, so she tried to push the feelings down with Occlumency and focus on the things she needed to do first.

Suddenly the Gryffindor team scored, their side of the stadium erupting in cheers while the Hufflepuffs booed.

"Did you see that?" Gwenog asked. "Really great shot."

"Yes, it was a good shot," Hermione agreed. It had been, from quite a distance away, and she thought Ginny would have been proud if it had been their team.

The match continued for another hour, with a couple of fouls from each team, more goals being scored and players whizzing by at dizzying speeds.

Gwenog reminded her of Ginny Weasley, somewhat. It was strange to think that Ginny wasn't born yet, that something might happen even to make her never be born, or not grow up the way they had, before. There were so many people she had to try to save. The Prewett brothers, for one, thinking of Weasleys. Shaking her head to dispel the slightly morbid thoughts, she tried to focus on the game, clapping when the others did. After much too long the Gryffindor Seeker managing to catch the Snitch, making Hermione feel oddly conflicted with an urge to cheer while her friends were sad. Hufflepuff was still ahead in House points, at least.

"We'll win next year when I'm on the team!" Gwenog promised.

Hermione laughed. "I'm sure you're right!"

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Ernest didn't join them in Hogsmeade after the game, but Hestia and June did. The village was quite busy, the warm weather on a Saturday afternoon making lots of people venture out to run errands. They spotted several seventh-year Ravenclaws and Slytherins, but none they used to hang out with. They made a quick trip through Hogsmeade's stores and a brief stop at the Three Broomsticks for some Butterbeer, discussing the game and their future plans. Hermione wasn't as close to June as to Hestia, but the blonde witch was friendly enough even if she preferred to spend time with a couple of Ravenclaw witches rather than the Hufflepuffs.

"You don't think this will be over soon?" June asked over her Butterbeer. "I'm so over it already. Why can't they just all get along?"

Hestia shook her head. "No way. We're going to be involved no matter what we think of it. We have to fight, otherwise they'll win. If no one fights them, they'll win."

Hermione nodded. It was true. If they didn't stand up for what they believed in, Lord Voldemort would win by simply steamrolling everyone else. Things they had been taking for granted would be snatched from them. Freedom to live, to do what they wanted with their lives, to marry whomever they chose and say no to others, for example.

After Charms a few days later, she took Hestia and Evie up the Hogwarts staircase just after dinner.

"Where are we going?" Evie asked. "I've never been up on this floor before."

"This way. Wait here a moment." Hermione gestured at them to stay at a safe distance before she focused on what she needed and walked three times in front of the spot where the door would end up. A moment later it materialised. Hestia gasped in surprise when Hermione opened the door and waved them through. The room had provided them with a large blackboard, some chairs and a table. In the corner, an enchanted harp was for some reason playing an uplifting tune. It seemed a little out of place, but sometimes the Room felt as if it had its own will. Hermione had noticed the same thing during the DA meetings, that sometimes the Room added its own flair to the request. She walked up to the board but wasn't sure where to begin.

"So, I just want to make sure. Do you still want to fight Voldemort? I won't get angry if you say you can't, promise."

Both Hestia and Evie nodded in agreement.

"We're in," Hestia said.

Hermione smiled at them. It was a relief to have found another couple of allies, even if she still sometimes felt they were too young for it. Perhaps that was a bit unfair, after all she had been forced to fight since the age of twelve, more or less, but the difference in experience between her and the others sometimes felt insurmountable.

"Good. Now, I think the first step is to figure out what to do when we leave Hogwarts. After all, we're taking the NEWTs in just a few weeks."

"Don't remind me," Evie groaned. "I still don't feel ready."

"I have an interview at the Ministry, I was thinking of becoming an Auror but it's starting to sound a bit too dangerous right now" Hestia said.

"I'm not sure yet what to do," Evie admitted. "I wanted to see if the Prophet is hiring, I know at least I don't want to work at the Ministry and I don't want to work at a shop. What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure either. There are plenty of things I'd like to do but in the current situation… I don't know what to do, really."

The room shifted a little, adding two comfy couches and a low table with a tea set and some shortbread biscuits. A fire was crackling in the hearth. Taking the hint, they settled on the couches and made themselves comfortable.

"Have you heard of Professor Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix?" Hermione asked. "They're fighting Voldemort more directly. Professor Dearborn is a member, plus several former students that I know of. I think he has some Aurors and Ministry people as well."

"That sounds interesting," Hestia said. "Are you going to join?"

Hermione shook her head. "The Headmaster… I don't think I can take orders from him. But I need to figure out a way to get in touch with them."

"I'm pretty sure Kingsley is a member. He talks about some of the others sometimes, Sirius Black and his gang. I don't think I should join, at least not now. Dumbledore would understand it's because of you."

It would be difficult enough to get Hestia in without the Headmaster getting too suspicious of their connection. Back in her own time Hestia had been a member, but perhaps That thought brought along another idea.

"Do either of you know Occlumency?"

The two other witches looked between each other, and Evie shrugged.

Some time later they headed down to the common room again, Hermione with a massive headache and an increased respect for Severus, for both his and Professor Snape's use of Occlumency. The Mind Arts were more difficult than anything else she'd done. They'd spent some time practising, taking turns between the three of them, and had also discussed what each of them could do to bring Voldemort down. Evie and Hestia promised to practise Occlumency regularly but Hermione wasn't sure it would be enough to keep secrets safe from Professor Dumbledore. She would try to join the Aurors after all to see if she could do some good from there, while Evie would either look at the Daily Prophet or try to find a low-level position at the Ministry, in the Archives or something like that. Hermione had wanted to give them notebooks but didn't have any prepared, and wasn't sure she should introduce her friends to slightly dubious blood magic.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

The Arithmancy matrices had taken on a life of their own and by now Hermione's most pressing concern was how to continue the work when she left Hogwarts. She spent as much time in the Professor's office as she could, but unfortunately that meant little with all the other demands on her time. They had made some progress but not enough yet to actually change the course of the ongoing war. Hermione's focus was mainly on the Horcruxes, while Professor Vector was trying to work out who they could trust in the Ministry. The complex web was currently projected in the middle of the room, lighting their faces with its eerie silvery glow. While the overall appearance was silver, there were specks of gold and other colours too, with some nodes being green or purple or red, and a few of the Death Eater-related ones were a dull brown.

"It's a shame we can't show anyone what you've done here, Miss Granger," Professor Vector said. "This is more or less an Apprenticeship project."

"I know," Hermione said glumly. "I don't know how to continue from here, though. I don't have the space to set it up like this and it's not like I can come here to work on it."

The Professor hummed in agreement and continued her own work.

Meanwhile, Hermione was working on the Malfoy angle. Her rather involuntary meeting with them had been unexpected and frankly terrifying, and she had well understood Lucius Malfoy's not so thinly veiled threats. Her own health was most definitely contingent on the health of those babies. Still, it had seemed as if Narcissa could be reasoned with, so perhaps there could be something good to come out of this mess. They still needed the diary.

When she added the Malfoy babies' birthday it seemed the matrix shifted a bit, again. Previously she only had Draco's information entered, not his sister, and from what she recalled he had been born a few weeks later. She wondered a bit if her coming to this timeline had affected that, or if it was just down to chance. There was no way for her to know if Draco of her timeline had had a sister, and if so what would have happened to her.

Before leaving the Tower well after curfew, Hermione handed a notebook to the Professor and demonstrated how it worked after linking it. Professor Vector hummed but didn't say much until she'd thoroughly inspected it.

"You've made more of these?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Be careful. Blood magic is dangerous for the caster if you spread yourself too thin. Don't make too many, absolutely no more than a dozen and that is stretching it. Still, I see the value of it for this kind of work. In just a few weeks time I won't be your Professor any longer, please call me Septima when we meet like this, outside of class."

"Oh! Thanks for the warning and please call me Hermione, then. I really hope we can continue working on this." She hadn't seen anything about overusing blood magic but then again it wasn't something openly discussed in polite company so perhaps that was to be expected. She'd have to be careful, then.

Not too long afterwards she tiptoed through the Castle on the way to her bed. She was tired but felt too wound up to sleep. As she passed an alcove she thought she heard her name called. Warily she turned towards the noise, wand extended, only to see two portraits waving at her. Well, one of them was waving, while the other was apparently waiting impatiently, arms crossed.

"Dilys and Heliotrope, how nice to see you," Hermione said after casting a quick Muffliato and Notice-Me-Not.

"You've been busy, have you?" Heliotrope said. "We haven't heard from you in quite some time."

Hermione hesitated. Could she trust these portraits or would they be bound to the Headmaster? "Yes, very busy," she conceded with a smile. "I'll be happy when I'm done with the NEWTs."

"And with everything else too, of course." Heliotrope didn't phrase it as a question.

Dilys nodded at her colleague. "Of course, of course. We shan't keep you, but do remember that you can always come to us if you need help with anything. I wish you all the best in life, Hermione, and who knows, maybe you'll end up in these halls again one day?"

"Who knows indeed, I'll certainly make sure to talk to the two of you again in any case."

"Have the boys here at school brought you any more trouble?" Dilys asked.

Hermione laughed. "No, thankfully not, but I appreciate your help earlier. Now I think I need to head to bed before the Castle wakes up again, it's getting late."

"Sleep well, Hermione."

Luckily the halls were deserted as she headed for the dorms, eager to finally make it to her bed.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Early June

The Workshop

One good thing would come from taking the Mastery tests early, Severus mused as he rinsed the cauldrons he'd been using for his experiments. He'd be rid of Warrington. The former Ravenclaw just wouldn't shut up. He was currently talking about the latest raid they'd been on, as if torturing Muggles was anything to be proud of. Vulchanov kept him occupied by interjecting vaguely encouraging sounds at regular intervals. After some time, the younger wizard left the room, probably headed to the pub despite it being early in the day. Both Severus and Vulchanov heaved a sigh of relief when the door slammed shut.

"You're not like him," Vulchanov said quietly, nodding towards Warrington's workstation. "You think. Careful."

Severus shrugged and moved to the sink to wash his knives. He'd received one from his Master, as was customary when starting the Apprenticeship, and had bought two others with money he'd made at Hogwarts from selling potions to his classmates. Good knives — and a couple decent cauldrons — were all he needed to start up a business. At least he hoped so.

"He's afraid of you. You're too clever. He's watching you, all the time. Waiting for you to make mistake, to tell Dark Lord."

Severus nodded. It wasn't exactly a surprise. "I know. What are your plans?"

"I'm taking test in a few weeks and then I go," Vulchanov said. "Would leave country if I could but…" He glanced down at his arm and then looked up at Severus with a raised eyebrow.

Severus nodded. There was no way out, not with the Mark. "We should meet up, you know, outside."

Vulchanov appeared to be holding his breath, thinking about it. "Your witch?"

He nodded again.

"Da."

They turned back to their work just in time for their Master to holler at them to bring the latest batch of potions down for a customer. Severus carefully brought out the vials and made his way downstairs, carefully stowing the latest conversation away behind his mental shields. He'd write a note to Hermione later. She was always on his mind, one way or other. Whenever something happened that was worth noting, he'd think of her first and what she'd say or at least write about it.

As he lay in bed that night listening to Menace muttering to himself on his perch, something slotted into place in his mind. He'd been thinking of Hermione's wounds but suddenly instead it became obvious how to dispel the Horcrux they'd collected. Not daring to feel too certain about it, but still quite confident it would work, he fell asleep with the feeling of finally making progress.