11.
Hogwarts - October 1997
I have it.
Those three words were still thick in her thoughts as she scurried through a darkened Hogsmeade, a cloak-wearing Harry at her side.
Severus —and the house elves— had found Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem within two days and it was now ready and waiting for her, for them, in the Chamber of Secrets. Better there, and for Harry to see Severus destroy a horcrux, before his temper burst it seams and he tried to kill the Headmaster.
"Down here."
It was little more than whisper as she darted into the now familiar alley that would take her into the Chamber. The scent of wet stone and earth, the hint of iron from the heavy warding of blood magic churned through her, coating her nerves.
Hermione glanced back to the light of the street. Everything was still, just the fading hint of music and drunken chatter from the Three Broomsticks carrying on the cold air. A smile tugged at her mouth. Even with the threat of Snake-face and his ministry goons, wizarding folk still needed their ale.
"Take off your cloak, Harry."
Hermione pricked her finger, squeezed blood to the surface and smeared it over the damp bricks.
"Blood magic?" Harry's voice was a hiss as he folded his cloak and stowed it in the deep pocket of his jacket. "What the hell, Hermione, that's dark."
She twitched a smile. "Grey at best. But necessary."
Already the pull of air and magic was sweeping up from the ground to whip her away to the Chamber. She grabbed Harry's hand, muttered "Hold on" and they burst into the vast cavern.
Harry staggered, and then stared. He blinked. "What the fuck? This…this is the fucking Chamber of Secrets." He flapped a hand at her. "I know you're you, Hermione. But how, in the name of Merlin's left nut, did you find a way into here? From fucking Hogsmeade? With blood magic?"
Hermione held down a wince. "I had…help."
"You had—"
He turned and a roar wild broke from him. He lurched forward. All magic, all power forgotten. A half a heartbeat later, Harry's wand spun through the air. In the same instant, Hermione's petrificus totalis caught him, snapping his limbs together and toppling him to the stone pathway. Before he hit, another spell wrapped around him, jerking him upright. His face was puce, every muscle straining, his eyes wide and fairly spitting his rage.
Hermione winced. Harry was not having a good few minutes.
Severus lifted an eyebrow as he pocketed Harry's wand. "Hardly language to use in front of a lady, Mr Potter." He looked to Hermione, that eyebrow still sharp. "I also recovered my old potions text book."
Hermione's face grew hot. Yes, she'd not had the courage to scribble that down in the shared notebook. "The…the diadem?"
The corner of his mouth curled up. The hint of a dark smile that did those…things to her traitorous body that she should not be feeling for a wizard twice her age. "Ready. The venom is prepared. Mr Potter should be moved to a safe distance, unless he wishes to witness the destruction of a piece of the Dark Lord…up close?"
Hermione bit back a sharp retort and just rolled her eyes. His hint of a smile deepened to a smirk. Utter git.
She ignored Salazar's dark chuckle and his "You like him that way". No. She did not like utter, smirking gits. When this nightmare was over, she had every intention of liking nice boys. Her ancestor's laughter echoed through her skull.
Men.
A sharp twist of her wand pushed a frozen Harry ahead of her, far from the familiar set up of a pot of basilisk venom and the shining diadem balanced on a wide lip.
"He's on our side, Harry," she murmured as her gaze fixed on Severus standing so close to the hated horcrux.
The old worry worked through her, overriding her twists of unease. This man faced so much danger for them. And everything —everything— depended on the strength of his mind. A fist squeezed around her heart and even Salazar's strength of belief in the wizard didn't ease her straining nerves.
"He's always been on our side."
Heated mutters broke from her friend and she let out a sigh. "After the horcrux is destroyed, we'll talk. There are two more left, Harry." Her gaze flicked to his forehead, to the scar hidden under the fall of his messy hair. "Two. Living…"
Her friend blinked. And again. Something seemed to…sag within the tightness of the spell and there was the realisation that he too had a dark chunk of the insane wizard in his flesh.
A scream and a surge of black smoke churned into the air, spiralling up, the gaping face of a raging Voldemort lurching after Severus. His magic swirled around him, throwing up a thick barrier against the blast of dark and bitter power…and surged around Hermione as the Headmaster swept up to her.
Severus dragged her into the shadows of his robes, pulling her tight to him. His warm and delicious scent wrapped over her. Something familiar…so familiar. Green herbs? Books, definitely books… Parchment. Her chest squeezed and air caught in her throat. Oh… Oh. Shit.
He was her amortentia scent. Merlin's great and shaggy beard. She was completely damned.
"Said he was worthy of you."
And didn't Salazar sound fucking smug?
"My Lady?"
Severus' deep, smooth voice was a rumble, a layer of concern edging it and it worked to slide warmth into her flesh. To kick over her heart. She willed herself to meet his gaze and tried not to think about the unexpected beauty of his eyes. Salazar would choke laughing on her mooning.
"It's an insane hobby you have."
His lips twitched up at the corner and the soft shine of amusement warmed his gaze. A long finger eased back a wild strand of hair that curled across her cheek. The heat of his skin was there, a torment and Hermione sucked in a startled breath. Her mouth parted. And it wasn't her imagination —it wasn't— when his gaze flicked to her lips.
Mutual. Oh dear gods… It was mutual.
Another falling tumbler. This was right. Utterly right. A breathless smile broke from her, and the need, the ache to stretch up on her toes and tease a kiss from his perfect—
"Hermione Granger what the fuck is going on!"
She closed her eyes and sagged against Severus' hold. Harry had pulled free of his bind.
Time for explanations.
Shit.