12.
Hogwarts - October 1997
"You stunned him!"
Hermione stared at the slumped form of her friend, out cold on the long path of the Chamber.
A twitch of a dark smile tugged at Severus' mouth. "You have no idea how satisfying that was."
"Severus!" She smacked his arm and glared at him.
A line of pink cut over his cheeks and he blinked at her…and she realised she'd just smacked Severus Snape. She bit her lip and her fingers curled into a fist. "I—"
"Should we not get Mr Potter somewhere more comfortable?" An eyebrow lifted and he waved her forward, even as his own magic curled around Harry and lifted him —her friend's body drooping like a puppet with cut strings.
"I…yes."
There was a change in his tone. A coolness and his mouth…his mouth was straight with no hint of the wry smirk that skipped her pulse. Had her over familiarity reminded Severus of who she was? The irritating close-to-being-a-former pupil? She cursed herself. And it'd been going so well.
In time that stretched with awkwardness, Hermione followed the well-trodden path back to the Headmaster's private sitting room.
And besides the mortification, one thought caromed around her brain.
She'd almost —almost— kissed him. They'd almost kissed each other.
Gods.
And in front of Harry.
That would've added even more fuel to the spluttering anger and sense of betrayal, she was sure.
She closed her eyes as Salazar's magic closed around her and pulled her out of the Chamber and into Severus' study. Warmth and leather, the hint of hickory smoke and the crack and spit of the fire eased the rush of her nerves. She felt…safe in this round room. More than anywhere she had for a long time…and it had a lot to do with the wizard who was settling her friend into a chair at a table she considered…theirs.
Merlin, her fall should not be this fast. But since she'd slipped Salazar's locket over her head, her world had been a series of tumblers slipping into place. Each turn and click right. Proper. Opening her and her world to dreams she never knew she could have.
She scrubbed at her face as Severus magically pinned Harry to the chair.
Yes, that…that was probably wise.
"Sit, please, My Lady."
Severus drew out the chair opposite to Harry and Hermione dutifully sat, her belly in a knot. She gave him a quick, uncertain smile and fixed on Harry as Severus himself sat, his wand obvious. He would have no qualms in hexing Harry. This was Severus Snape. Harry Potter had been a knife in his side for years. He'd enjoy it.
"Rennervate."
The softly spoken spell jerked Harry in his chair and another roar of anger broke form him. He thrashed against the chair, rocking it, till Severus pinned that to the floor. Harry have him a mutinous glare. "What have you done to Hermione, you bastard?"
"I can stun you again, Mr Potter, if you'd prefer?"
"Hermione! What did he do? You're under a curse. Fight it. Fight him. He killed Dumbledore—"
She winced. "Harry—"
"Can't you see? He's a lying, murdering, two-faced cun—"
"Harry!"
A quick and angered flick of Severus' wand cut Harry off. "Enough…" It was a low growl that pricked at Hermione's skin. "Now you will sit and you will listen."
Her friend's angered gaze snapped to her. Cords strained in his neck and his knuckles were bloodless as he gripped the arms of the chair.
hermione knotted her fingers, resting them on the table top and breathed. Just breathed. He had to listen. And believe. "In the flat, I asked you to trust me. Do you trust me, Harry?"
His lips thinned and he shot a glare to Severus, before his green eyes found her again. The edge of wild fury dulled…and he gave a slow and deliberate nod.
She drew out the locket from under her shirt and the amber and runes gleamed in flickering firelight. Harry blinked and his brow furrowed. His mouth opened and closed and Hermione looked to Severus, who with a narrowed, black gaze, lifted the silencio.
"Hermione!" Harry closed his eyes and breathed. In and out. And again. "He is in there. He's twisted your mind. He—"
"Is gone, Harry. But there is someone else. Someone who will end this war." She drew in a long breath and her fingers traced over the ornate clasp. "Will you listen, Harry? You know —you know— I've only ever wanted the best for you. Always." She gave him a tight smile. "You're my best friend. And your fight is my fight."
Harry groaned and slumped back against the chair. "I know. I know, but…" He scowled and cast a glance to the stone-faced Severus. "Him, Hermione?"
And under that single, stressed word, was a multitude of meanings. Severus Snape. Trusting him, working with him…and she was all too aware that Harry had witnessed her almost kissing him… She couldn't look at the Headmaster, and she hoped her cheeks weren't completely pink as she murmured, "There is no one better."
It applied to every meaning.
Harry scrunched his eyes shut and his shoulder's slumped. He looked to Severus, who, with an arch of an eyebrow released the spell that pinned him. Harry's elbows slumped onto the table, holding up his head, his fingers in the mess of his hair. "You're right. Merlin, you're always right. I ignore that fact and everything goes tits up."
He flicked a glance to Severus whose wand had twitched at his language. Harry's smile was wry.
"Okay. All right. I'm listening. I will listen. Start from the beginning. So...who is in the locket?"