A/N: Hello readers – Here is my next chapter. I really appreciate all the reviews and comments you've been sending me.

Chapter Three

The office of the Headmistress of Hogwarts was a scene of total chaos. People were shouting, some in anger, some in panic. The sound of sobbing could be heard. As Hermione neared her destination, the clamor split into recognizable phrases.

"Someone's got to go back after her!"

"Mr. Weasley – calm down!"

"It's sealed on their end. There's no way in."

"I should have stayed with her until she was out."

"Remus! It's not your fault."

"Then get a force together and attack the house!"

"No use, Potter. They'll have taken her by now if she isn't dead already."

At that moment, the hearth flared up, and Hermione stumbled out into the room, sinking to her knees on the carpet, eyes closed against the momentary surge of nausea that was always a part of floo travel for her. Drawing a deep breath, she opened her eyes and froze, uncertain what to do. Everyone there had reacted to the sound of the floo activating, and she found herself facing a phalanx of drawn wands. No one spoke as they stared at her in disbelief. Then they all began shouting at her at once. Ron and Harry started forward, when Mad-Eye Moody's bellow froze everyone.

"Stay away until we're sure it's really her!"

"Oh for...of course it's her!" Harry yelled.

Moody wasn't about to back down. One eye stayed fixed on her, while the other rolled in the direction of the boys. "Ask her a question!"

"What's the name of that half-kneazle beast of yours?" Ron demanded.

Hermione glared at him. "Crookshanks is a cat, Ronald."

"It's her!" and she found herself grabbed and hugged firmly by Harry and Ron.

The shouting began again. This time it was the Headmistress's cry of "Silence!" that stilled the noise.

"Now, Miss Granger," Headmistress McGonagall's eyes were full of concern, "can you tell us what happened to you?"

For a moment, she could only cling to Ron and Harry, staring at the others with wide eyes. How was she to explain what had taken place in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place? And how much should she tell of her conversation with Snape?

"You were leaving when I spoke to you," Remus urged her gently. Beside him, Tonks was wiping her eyes.

"Yes I was," Hermione replied. "Dobby left through the Floo – he was carrying all the papers - but when I tried to follow, the hearth was sealed."

She felt both Ron and Harry's grips on her arms tighten.

"What happened then?" Moody growled the question.

"I turned around..." Hermione paled, reliving the moment, "and Professor Snape was there."

"What! Snape?" Ron yelled. The room erupted around her again.

"Hermione, did he hurt you?" Harry asked, panic in his voice.

"No, no, he..." Everyone was yelling at once, questions being fired at her from all sides, and all she could think of was the moment of stark terror when she knew that he was going to kill her. Pulling her arms away from Harry and Ron and covering her face, Hermione burst into tears.

"I knew it!" Ron howled. "I knew he hurt her!" Next to him, Harry was white-faced, shaking with rage.

Hermione sobbed uncontrollably. An arm came around her shoulders. "That is enough," the Headmistress commanded. "I want all of you out of here now. No, the two of you as well, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley." She overrode the worried protests of Harry and Ron, and even Moody backed down before the determined Headmistress.

Hermione had never been so grateful for the quiet strength of the Headmistress. She did not press her for details but waited patiently for her to regain her composure. As soon as Hermione was somewhat recovered and sipping a cup of tea, she went over to the floo and summoned Madam Pomfrey.

"Poppy, as you can see, Miss Granger has returned. I would like you to ascertain whether or not she has been injured."

Hermione sat quietly while the healer ran her wand over her in a series of diagnostic spells. After several minutes, Madam Pomfrey lowered her wand and turned to Professor McGonagall.

"She does not appear to have any injuries, Minerva, nor do I find any signs that she has been Obliviated."

The Professor nodded, then turned to Hermione. "I must ask you, Miss Granger. Did Professor Snape molest you in any way?"

At the shocked expression on Hermione's face, Madam Pomfrey said, "Ah, I wouldn't have thought so."

"No," Hermione said. "I thought he would at first. I was really frightened. But he only talked to me. We had tea together and then he let me go."

"You drank something he gave you?" Madam Pomfrey was horrified. "It could have contained anything!"

Hermione smiled. "Of course not. I made the tea."

Professor McGongall interrupted. "Did he speak of the Headmaster's death?"

Her smile faded. "I asked him about it. He didn't deny killing him."

Without speaking, the Headmistress turned and walked into an adjoining room. Madam Pomfrey looked after her, a troubled expression on her face. "Miss Granger," she said. "Would you wait for us here in the office?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied. Madam Pomfrey followed the Headmistress into the other room. Soft murmurs could be heard, and Hermione moved farther away to keep from eavesdropping inadvertently. She settled herself in a chair on the far side of the room, and closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion sweep over her.

"Miss Granger." Her eyes snapped open in astonishment. The voice was so very familiar. Had she been dreaming?

"Up here, Miss Granger." Hermione looked at the portrait above her head, and found herself staring into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "I'd like a word before the others return."

It was the first time Hermione had seen the portrait, and she found it rather disconcerting to be conversing with Dumbledore. She scrambled to her feet. "Headmaster," she began, only to be stopped as Dumbledore held up his hand.

"We must talk quickly, Miss Granger. I am relying on the fact that you are a very sensible young woman." His sense of urgency communicated itself to her, and Hermione gave him her full attention. "You talked to Professor Snape."

"Y-yes," she stammered. "How did you know?"

"I have no time for explanations right now. Miss Granger, do you remember the hall behind the locked door in the third floor wing, where you found the trap door guarded by Hagrid's dog when you were searching for the Sorcerer's Stone with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, sir. I remember."

"Good." He nodded at her. "There is a portrait at the end of the hall. I shall wait there for you this evening. We should be able to talk there without being overheard." Behind them, the door to the anteroom opened. "I know I can count on you."

"Yes," Hermione spoke softly. "I'll be there."

Having regained her composure, the Headmistress took a full statement from Hermione concerning the events in Grimmauld Place. Snape's comment that he still served two masters brought her quill to a full stop. "Are you sure that is how he phrased it?"

"Quite sure, Headmistress. I couldn't take it in at first. I was quite astonished."

She nodded. "As I am. How he could make such a statement in view of the fact that he murdered the Headmaster..." Shaking her head, she directed the quill to make multiple copies of the report. "Miss Granger, you have had a most distressing experience. I suggest that you return to your room and get some rest. We will discuss this tomorrow, after I have had a chance to reflect on it."

Hermione wondered if her reflection would include discussing it with Dumbledore's portrait. She stood up. "Thank you, Professor. I am very tired."

The Headmistress smiled at her. "I'm sure Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are waiting outside to escort you. Don't let their curiousity overwhelm you."

Hermione smiled back. "No, I won't. Good night, Headmistress."

Harry and Ron were absolutely determined not to be separated from her. Seeing how white and exhausted she looked, they held back their questions until they reached the head girl's room. She curled up on the sofa, and the boys settled themselves at her feet.

"Hermione," Harry began tentatively, "if you're up to it, can you tell us what happened to you?"

She sighed. They were not going to react well to what she had to say, she was sure. Harry's hatred of the former Potions Master had been uncontained since Dumbledore's death. And Ron was already beside himself that she'd been in jeopardy.

"All right. But you have to promise not to interrupt me until I finish telling you the entire story." The two boys looked at each other, then back at her.

"Okay." Harry's face was set. "Go ahead, and we'll hear you out."

Hermione took a deep breath and began. Several times during her narrative, Harry started to react, but a quick gesture from Ron shushed him.

"And then he gave me back my wand and I Flooed back here." Hermione knew what would follow her next statement, but she had to say it. "I believe him. I think he's still working for us."

Harry was on his feet, livid. "How could you ever think that? He's a filthy murderer, Hermione. I saw him kill Dumbledore with my own eyes!"

Ron hadn't exploded, as she'd expected. He reached out and shook Harry's arm to get his attention. His eyes didn't leave Hermione. "Harry, he did something to her. I know he did."

"No, Ron, listen to me," Hermione pleaded. "Madam Pomfrey checked me out. I haven't been Confunded or Obliviated or anything like that. I really think that there is more to this that we know right now."

Harry was still furious. "I don't believe you! How can you sit there and tell us that you'd accept anything that bastard would say! Ron's right – either there's something wrong with you, or you're a lot stupider than I ever thought!" Without giving her a chance to reply, he stormed from the room.

She began to cry quietly. Ron sat down on the sofa beside her and pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back. "S'okay. S'gonna be okay. Harry's upset, but he'll come around. We'll get you past this."

Hermione was sorely tempted to shove him off the sofa and scream at him. He was being so painfully understanding. Too exhausted to argue her case any further, she gently disengaged herself from him.

"I want to sleep, Ron. Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow."

Ron hesitated. "If you're scared, Hermione, I could sleep out here so you, y'know, won't be alone tonight."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at him. His concern for her was touching, but she needed him gone if she was to keep her appointment with Dumbledore. "I'm not frightened anymore. I'll be fine. Go after Harry and see if you can calm him down."

Ron nodded. "Okay. We'll meet you at breakfast." He gave her a quick kiss and got up to leave. "You're sure..."

"Yes, yes, Ron." Hermione followed him to the door, and closed it firmly behind him. Leaning against it, she listened until she could no longer hear footsteps in the hall outside her room. Slowly, she opened the door and peered out. The hall was empty in both directions. Quietly she slipped out, and headed off in the direction of the third floor hallway.

Several times she found herself wishing for an invisibility cloak as she dodged into corridors and empty rooms to escape the notice of various ghosts and Filch. At one point, she flattened herself on the stairs as she heard him on the stairway directly above her. Fortunately, in the dimly lit halls, he failed to notice her. After what seemed an eternity, she arrived at the entrance to the third floor hallway. The door was no longer locked. She lifted the latch and as she eased it open, it gave a groan that seemed to echo through the castle. Shrinking into the shadows, she waited for several moments in panic for the alarm that must be raised. When no one appeared, she slipped inside. At the far end of the hall, a large portrait hung in an arched recess. Next to it, a single torch burned.

"I'm here, Miss Granger." She hurried down the hall to stand in front of the portrait. A rather austere-looking study with a single desk and chair graced the portrait, and Dumbledore was seated there. "I'm so very glad that you were able to find me."

Hermione glanced around. "Why is this portrait here by itself?"

Dumbledore smiled down at her. "It belongs to one of the early Hogwarts patrons, Murphy the Muddlesome. He never did like crowds, so this is the perfect location for him. He's graciously allowed me to use it for the evening."

Hermione waited impatiently as he explained, and blurted out as soon as he'd finished. "Headmaster, how did you know that I'd been talking to Professor Snape?"

"Why, he told me about it." At her look of astonishment, he nodded. "We are in communication with each other, but I shall not give you details of how that is effected. However, he indicated to me that you seemed to understand the circumstances in which he finds himself, and that you would be willing to help him. Is he correct in that assumption?"

"Help him? What does he expect me to do? I can't prove his innocence, because he admits to...well, killing you, sir."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Miss Granger, Severus killed me because I commanded him to do it. It was absolutely necessary to save a life and to prevent his cover as my spy from being exposed."

"But, sir..." Hermione protested, "wasn't there another way to do it? I mean...to let him kill you, when we need you so much..."

"My dear, you must believe me when I tell you this. There was no other way. And the truth of the matter is, I was already dying." Over her exclamation of distress, he continued. "I was being slowly killed by the curse I released when I destroyed the horcrux present in Salazar Slytherin's ring. There was no way to stop it. That is why I drank the poison to obtain the locket, and that is why I demanded that Severus kill me. Rather than a slow and useless death, we succeeded in solidifying his position within Voldemort's ranks. He is now in an even more efficacious position to help our cause than ever before. Can you understand this?"

Hermione's mind was reeling, but one thought stood out. He's on our side. The feeling of relief that coursed through her almost made her weak.

"Then are you willing to help us?" Dumbledore recaptured her attention.

"Yes. Yes, I am. What do you need me to do?" she asked eagerly.

"The destruction of the remaining horcruxes is of paramount importance. We cannot conquer Voldemort if any of them remain intact. Severus will be working to discover the objects and their locations. Any information that he obtains must be passed on to Harry. That is where you come in."

"But," Hermione could picture Harry's livid face in her mind," Harry is not going to believe anything that comes from Professor Snape."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "You will have to present this information as your own work...and keep your source from any of the others."

Hermione nodded. "I can do that. But how will Professor Snape contact me?"

"I don't wish to say at this time. Trust me that he will have ways to reach you."

"How much of what we've discussed can I tell Harry and Ron?"

"This will be very difficult for you, Miss Granger." Dumbledore's look was compassionate. "You can tell them nothing. If the Order knows that Severus is still in contact with me, or with you, they will no doubt try to trap him. And we must not forget that any knowledge that Harry possesses can be accessed by Voldemort. You will have to be very careful."

Hermione stared out into the dark hallway. "I guess I'm going to get an idea of what Professor Snape has been experiencing as a double-agent all these years."

"Indeed. It will have some considerable element of risk."

Hermione considered the problem. "I think I'll talk to Harry first and get all the information he has so far about the horcruxes. Then I'll start to research."

"Excellent. I knew we could count on you. I wish you great good luck in this."

For a long moment, Hermione mulled over ways to approach Harry in the morning. Finally, she turned back to the portrait. A hugely obese wizard, in a robe that must have been created by Omar-the-tentmaker, stared back at her. He was sitting in the chair that had previously been occupied by Dumbledore, and the legs bent alarmingly under his weight.

"Well, Missy? What are you waiting around here for?" The fat wizard had an annoyingly nasal voice.

"Nothing. Sorry to disturb you."

"Be off with you then." Murphy the Muddlesome flapped his fat hands at her, and Hermione hurriedly left.

To be continued...