18.

Hogwarts - Late October 1997

"I…"

McGonagall slumped and Severus flicked her free of the incarcerous. The witch staggered and Harry darted forward to help her into a chair. "Believe me, Professor, you need to be sitting down for the rest of this…craziness."

The witch caught her hand in her hair. "Mr…Mr Potter?"

"In the flesh."

The older witch looked to him, then to Hermione and Severus, but her gaze skittered past the portrait of Salazar. Just what had the seemingly strait-laced witch done with the long dead wizard? Hermione tried not to dwell, but her thoughts kept circling back to the fact. It didn't help that Salazar's amusement was a dark heat at the back of mind.

Merlin, she'd had too many brain curdling thoughts in the space of a half an hour. She did not need more.

Harry drew up a little foot stool and plopped down on it. Yes, she would let him begin to share the facts. Hermione doubted she wouldn't snap at the older witch, because Severus was still stiff and silent behind her, his fingers threaded tight through hers.

"This," Harry waved an encompassing hand back to them, the occupied frame, the room, "all of this is due to, I'm told, yet another prophecy. Not mine, this time, thank Merlin."

He offered a too bright smile and Hermione could feel his strain. Poor Harry. No, she would not let him go. Not easily. Not at all. She'd come too far with him. There would be no more loses on her side. And if that meant protecting a certain arrogant blond ferret for her friend, she would do that for him as well.

"Another…?"

McGonagall looked to Severus and blinked. Was she expecting an answer from him? Where was his apology? Did she not realise how much her words had wounded him?

"It's Hermione's. From a thousand years ago," Harry said, breaking into the dragging silence. "She—"

"Is the Lady Hermione, Scion to the House of Slytherin." Severus' voice was low and proud and Hermione glanced back to him, finding a dark and wicked shine to his eyes. She didn't blame him taking a stab at the Professor's pride in her being a Gryffindor.

"Miss Granger…? No." McGonagall looked to the portrait behind them. "And you…you accept that?"

"I have been waiting for her, for my true heir, for a thousand years."

"This…"

The older witch slumped back into the chair and Harry summoned the decanter from the side table. A glass followed.

"Here, Professor." And he splashed a generous amount of brandy and handed it over.

It was gone in one slug and her hand was out for a refill.

"And you, Severus? Was all this," McGonagall waved her glass, "an insane plan of Albus'?"

Severus eased his fingers free from Hermione's tight grip, gave her a short nod and left the room for the library without a backward glance.

McGonagall stared after him. "Now you see here, Severus Snape—"

"Minerva…" It was a low and dark command from the painting above the fireplace. "You were cruel. Deliberately so. And you have yet to apologise."

"I thought that he—"

"He took you under my order." Salazar's voice was clipped and his disappointment in the witch threaded through Hermione's thoughts. "Now you know he is working against Riddle…and yet…"

The older witch closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. She swore. Possibly in gaelic. She pushed herself to her feet and handed her glass to Harry. "I…have some grovelling to do. And then," she gave them a gimlet glare over the shine of her glasses, "I will expect proper answers."

Hermione watched the door close to the library and couldn't help but knot her fingers, worried for Severus.

"He's a big boy, Hermione. He'll be fine."

Harry flopped back on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Hermione drew in a breath and sat. She scrubbed her hands over her face. "We will win this, Harry. And mainly you have to win, so that you can claim a certain snotty blond…"

Harry stared at her, his face flushed a mottled red. "I…what? No! I have no interest in—"

"Harry…"

"I'm not—"

"Harry…?" And she lifted an eyebrow.

"That's…odd you know, copying his mannerisms so perfectly. It screams that you spend far too much time staring at him."

Hermione gave him a tight smile for trying to change the subject. "Oh no, far from it. My eyes are often…closed."

Harry shuddered and slapped his hands to his ears. "My innocent boy ears!"

She snorted. "This from the boy who said I had to seduce Umbridge."

"Gods, Hermione. That's worse. That is so much worse."

"Then let us not change the subject." She pulled his hand between both of hers and squeezed. "I will protect you. And for you, I will protect him. I promise."

Harry blinked and stared at his hand in hers. He let out a long breath. "He's under my skin, y'know?" He twitched a smile and there was a deep shadow in his eyes. "And I nearly killed him with Snape's insane spell. That… Gods, Hermione. I…realised then what it was. How I felt. And fuck, I was so angry at him. And…and at myself." He shook his head, squeezed her fingers and fell back against the thick padding of the couch. "I mean, it's impossible, isn't it? Me…and Malfoy?"

Hermione snorted. "I'm the Heir of Salazar Slytherin and very serious about my future with one Severus Tobias Snape. Ask someone else what's impossible, Harry."

"Yes, there's that." He rolled his head against the padding of the couch to look at her. "We will get through this." His lips quirked upwards. "And get to keep our snakes."

A statement. Not a question.

"Yes, yes we will."

The door to the library opened and a red faced Professor McGonagall appeared, her eyes bright and wet. Severus, as stoic as ever followed. Though there was a hint of pink to his sharp cheekbones.

He nodded to her and she let a breath. All was not well, but…better.

Salazar coughed, bringing their attention to him. His lips pulled upwards into a sharp smile. "Now has Severus pointed out, it is time the full prophecy of my wizard-born daughter found the world again."

A sense of the overly dramatic. Her ancestor had definitely favoured that trait in his house.

The portrait smirked at her. "Yes, let us begin…"