*"How did it go?' Hermione whispered, as soon as Harry returned from his first Occlumency lesson. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah ... fine ... I dunno," said Harry impatiently. "Listen ... I've just realised something ..."

And he told them what he had just seen and deduced.

"So … so are you saying …" whispered Ron, as Madam Prince swept past, squeaking slightly "that the weapon - the thing You-Know-Who's after - is in the Ministry of Magic?"

"In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be," Harry whispered. "I saw that door when your Dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him."

She let out a long, slow sigh.

"Of course," she breathed.

"Of course what?" said Ron rather impatiently.

"Ron, think about it... Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic ... it must have been that one, it's too much of a coincidence!"

"How come Sturgis was trying to break in when he's on our side?" said Ron.

"Well, I don't know," she admitted. "That is a bit odd ..."

"So what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked Ron. "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"

"I know they call the people who work in there 'Unspeakables'," said Ron, frowning. "Because no one really seems to know what they do - weird place to have a weapon."

"It's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense," said Hermione. "It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect ... Harry, are you sure you're all right?"

Harry had just run both his hands hard over his forehead as though trying to iron it.

"Yeah ... fine ..." he said, lowering his hands, which were trembling. "I just feel a bit ... I don't like Occlumency much."

"I expect anyone would feel shaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again," she said sympathetically, wondering if Snape was okay; she couldn't imagine he'd enjoyed being inside the head of someone he hated. "Look, let's get back to the common room, we'll be a bit more comfortable there."*

As soon as she read the Daily Prophet report announcing the mass breakout from Azkaban, her first thought was for Snape. Her eyes immediately found him at the high table. He didn't look hurt. She sighed in relief, then faltered. It didn't look like he'd been involved in the breakout but there would surely be some sort of celebration? And her Professor would surely be expected to attend? She often wished she knew when Snape was Summoned so she could wait for him and make sure he was ok, but she knew her Professor would never, ever allow it. But if she could predict some occasions when he would be Summoned, like this one…

*"I don't believe this," snarled Harry, "Fudge is blaming the breakout on Sirius?"

"What other options does he have?" she said bitterly. "He can hardly say, 'Sorry, everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort' - stop whimpering, Ron – 'and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out, too.' I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?"*

That night she waited for Snape by the gates, surrounded by warming charms, wrapped up in layers of clothing and under a Disillusionment Charm. She'd considered leaving about a 100 times – she didn't even know for sure that he'd been Summoned, she'd given the Marauders map back to Harry at the beginning of the year and could think of no reason to ask to borrow it – but there was this feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach that increased tenth fold every time she went to leave. So she stayed. Hermione was a very rational and logical girl most of the time, but once in a while brains had to give way to instinct, and right now her instincts were telling her to stay put and wait, however foolish she felt.

It was past 5 in the morning when she heard the crack of Apparition which startled her out of her sleepy stupor. And there he was. He'd pulled of his silver mask the moment he'd Apparated and she was immensely glad of that; the thing gave her the creeps. He pulled open the gates, shut them behind himself and then slowly slid down them, ending up sitting with his knees close to his chest and his head resting on the gates. Hermione dropped her Charms and his head snapped in her direction, she couldn't see his expression but the lack of shouting seemed a positive sign. She walked slowly towards him and his eyes followed her progress. He said nothing. Finally, when she was standing right in front of him, she thought she understood why. He was just too tired. Professor Snape looked like he'd spent days, weeks even, being violently sick; his skin was sweaty and slick, his skin almost yellow, he was gaunt and he looked liked he'd received two hard punches, one to each eye. Her heart ached for him and in that moment she was immeasurably pleased she'd waited. She slid down the gates to sit next to him, wondering what on earth she should do now. Snape shivered, she turned to him and he'd shut his eyes tight, he shivered again, this time more violently. With an aching chest she cast the strongest Warming Charms around them she could manage and took of her outer cloak, timidly placing it over his slumped form and feeling a wave of panic when he didn't berate her, didn't yell, or protest, or react at all.

"Professor…" She said, fear turning her voice to a whisper.

"Tell no one." He choked out through clenched teeth.

"Of course not. I won't tell a soul. I promise."

Her chest was tight. As if she would tell anyone about this, as if it was shameful or amusing or gossip. Oh God she cared about this man. How could she help him?

Hermione shuffled closer, stopping when they were sitting shoulder pressed to shoulder. She felt Snape's entire body tense.

"You're not hurt?" She asked him quietly.

"No." He answered, his voice terse and his body rigid, but he didn't pull away. "Why are you here?"

"I guessed you'd be Summoned after the breakout."

"But why are you here?" He persisted.

"Because I care about you." She answered immediately then felt herself blush, well, it was the truth.

Snape turned his head towards her, looking sceptical. Their heads were very close. She could count the lines around his eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

He leant away from her suddenly and threw up. Slumped over he cast Aguamenti straight into his mouth and spat it out again, drawing in heaving, ragged breaths. She stood up.

"Right, that's it. You need to go to bed. Now."

And before he had time to protest she dragged him to his feet, wrapped her cloak around his shoulders and started pulling him towards the castle. It was time to channel Molly Weasley.

"Miss Granger, stop this at once." His voice was feeble.

She carried on pulling him…

"Miss Granger! 5 points from Gryffindor."

She carried on…

"MISS GRANGER."

…

"Fine! Fine! But I can walk you insufferable woman."

She let go and Snape marched off. Or rather, he tried to march off but couldn't seem to keep the pace up. She fell into step beside him, trying to hide her smile. He was stubborn beyond belief. They walked together in silence and he let her into his rooms without protest and fell into his favourite armchair. She sat on the floor and started taking off his shoes.

"What on earth are you doing?" He snapped, yanking his foot away.

"I'm taking your shoes off. You need sleep and you need it now, it's not long till lessons tomorrow. I take it you'll still be teaching?"

"Of course I will."

"Well then."

She started undoing his shoes again. He sighed heavily but let her this time. She eased the first shoe off his foot and pulled off his sock. Black. Naturally. She smiled at his bare foot and repeated the gesture. Snape with bare feet felt very different to Snape with shoes on somehow. She resisted the urge to give him a foot rub. He had nice feet. They were nothing special but they didn't smell and they weren't overly hairy. They were nice. She shook her head.

"Right. Bed. Now."

He glared at her.

"You will speak of this to no one, you will leave now, you will not be here when I wake up and you will leave me well alone. I have enough to deal with without an idiotic Gryffindor acting like a little lost puppy around me. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." She answered, her voice cold, feeling tired and angry and sorry for herself. But then she saw the slight flash of regret in his face and immediately felt better. This was Professor Snape. Of course he wasn't thrilled that the best friend of the boy he hated had seen him in a state once again. She sighed. "Go to bed then."

He glared at her, opened the door to his bedroom and disappeared, slamming it behind him. She sighed again, wondering whether or not she should stay but her Professor had made his wishes very clear, she didn't want to push it and he wasn't hurt, just exhausted, and probably a little traumatised having had to party with some of the most vicious wizards in History.

He had her cloak. The thought made her cheeks feel warm.

Bed. She needed her bed.

*The students' mood that had changed since the breakout, many weren't satisfied with the Ministry's explanation. It was now also quite common to come across two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment they saw students approaching.

"They obviously can't talk freely in the staff room anymore," said Hermione in a low voice, as she, Harry and Ron passed Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout huddled together outside the Charms classroom one day. "Not with Umbridge there."

"Reckon they know anything new?" said Ron, gazing back over his shoulder at the three teachers.

"If they do, we're not going to hear about it, are we?" said Harry angrily. "Not after Decree ... what number are we on now?" For new notices had appeared on the house notice boards the morning after news of the Azkaban breakout:

BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS

Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach. The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-six.

Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor

This latest Decree had been the subject of a great number of jokes among the students. Lee Jordan had pointed out to Umbridge that by the terms of the new rule she was not allowed to tell Fred and George off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class.

"Exploding Snap's got nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor! That's not information relating to your subject!"*

If she kept this up it wasn't going to be long until the students moved into an open rebellion. And Hermione really couldn't wait. In fact she was going to encourage that as much as she could…

Harry was doing amazingly with the D.A, he was a wonderful teacher and his temper seemed much more manageable. She really wished the same could be said for his Occlumency lessons with Snape. She couldn't decide if he wasn't working hard enough, or if it was something else that was inhibiting him. There was something about his connection to Voldemort that made her uneasy, and if it was now true that Voldemort was aware of their connection and was trying to use it, well then she didn't really think Harry had much chance of blocking him out, although he obviously had to try. This weapon was something else to worry about too. What on earth was it? It must be something horrific for Voldemort to be so intent on obtaining it but she couldn't begin to imagine what it must be… Hermione made a mental note to start reading about Dark weapons in her free time … as well as Healing … and making elf hats.

Before she knew it, January had been and gone and February arrived, bringing warmer and wetter weather, and then the 14th arrived and her plan was about to be set in motion. A fuzzy, warm excitement tingled in her fingers. Oh this was going to be good.

*"Listen, Harry," she said, looking up at him, "this is really important. Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"

"Well . . . I dunno," said Harry uncertainly. "Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do."

"Well, bring her along if you must," said Hermione urgently. "But will you come?"

"Well . . . all right, but why?"

"I haven't got time to tell you now, I've got to answer this quickly."*

She felt a little strange walking through Hogsmeade with Luna Lovegood and Rita Skeeter but all the same she was rather excited.

*"I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?' said Rita, her voice shaking slightly. She opened her crocodile bag once more, withdrew a piece of parchment, and raised her Quick-Quotes Quill.

"Daddy will be pleased," said Luna brightly. A muscle twitched in Rita's jaw.

"OK, Harry?" said Hermione, turning to him. "Ready to tell the public the truth?"

"I suppose," said Harry, watching Rita balancing the Quick-Quotes Quill at the ready on the parchment between them.

"Fire away, then, Rita," she said, fishing a cherry out from the bottom of her glass.*

Blackmail really was wonderful.

*HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN

"It's good, isn't it?" said Luna, who had drifted over to the Gryffindor table and now squeezed herself on to the bench between Fred and Ron. "It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these," she waved a hand at the assembled owls still scrabbling around on the table in front of Harry, "are letters from readers."

"That's what I thought," she said eagerly. "Harry, d'you mind if we - ?"

"Help yourself,"

"This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker," said Ron, glancing down his letter. "Ah well…"

"This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St Mungo's," said Hermione, disappointed.

"This one looks OK, though," said Harry slowly. "Hey she says she believes me!"

"This one's in two minds," said Fred, who had joined in the letter-opening with enthusiasm. "Says you don't come across as a mad person, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now. Blimey, what a waste of parchment."

"Here's another one you've convinced, Harry!" she said excitedly. "Having read your side of the story, I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly ... little though I want to think that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth … Oh, this is wonderful!"

"What is going on here?" said a falsely sweet, girlish voice.

Professor Umbridge was standing behind Fred and Luna, her bulging toad's eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Harry. Behind her she saw many of the students watching them avidly.

"Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter?" she asked slowly.

"Is that a crime now?" said Fred loudly. "Getting mail?"

"Be careful, Mr Weasley or I shall have to put you in detention," said Umbridge. "Well, Mr Potter?"

"People have written to me because I gave an interview," said Harry. "About what happened to me last June."

Umbridge paled.

"An interview?" she repeated, her voice thinner and higher than ever. "What do you mean?"

"I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them," said Harry. "Here-"

And he threw the copy of The Quibbler to her. She caught it and stared down at the cover. Her pale, doughy face turned an ugly, patchy violet.

Hermione grinned.

"How you dare ... how you could ..." She took a deep breath. "I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions."*

Seeing Umbridge so furious was truly incredible, and by banning the Quibbler she'd ensured that everyone in Hogwarts had read it. Stupid woman. Hermione could not stop smiling. The student mood really was changing now, more and more people believed Harry, she could feel it and oh God it felt good.

*The teachers were of course forbidden from mentioning the interview, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said, "Shh!" and hurried away, and Harry told her that Professor Trelawney had broken into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic and have twelve children.*

She felt like she as floating through the corridors rather than walking, a stupid grin plastered on her face, this was it now, it was going to get better, people would know the truth. It certainly looked like a 16 year old school girl could make quite a difference after all. She saw Professor Snape walking down the corridor towards her, and she couldn't help it, they were quite alone; she beamed at him as they got closer. But then he sent her a look of such anger and loathing she faltered and stopped walking to stare at him in confusion. She hadn't received a look like that for months…

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

"I…"

It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of freezing water over her, she felt herself go pale and cold and sweaty and she tripped on her feet and stumbled forwards…

Snape's arms came up grabbed her, pulling her quickly into an empty classroom and warding the door.

"Oh God." She croaked, feeling blindly for a chair to sink into. "You'll be in so much trouble for this." Her fingers starting trembling as she pushed her hair away from her face. "Oh shit. Shit you'll be in so much trouble."

She shakily glanced up at his face. He looked pale and tense but the anger had evaporated. He was staring at her intently.

She put her head in her hands and rested her elbows on the table, feeling tears stinging in her eyes, how could she have been so stupid? How hadn't she realised?

"He'll blame you. You're at Hogwarts so you should have stopped it. He doesn't want anyone to know he's back yet. Oh my God. How bad will it be? I'm so so so sorry." She whispered.

"Miss Granger."

She looked up at him helplessly.

"It was the right thing to do." He said quietly, staring at his shoes, his hair curtaining his expression.

Her brain couldn't quite keep up.

"But… You'll get hurt-"

"This is war. Sacrifices must be made." He snapped, still looking downwards.

She stood up and walked towards him. She stopped when she was close enough to see the light reflected off his greasy roots.

"How bad will it be?"

He finally looked up at her and behind his impassive, sneering mask she could see his fear. She could feel it.

"I'll live."

"I'm so, so sorry." She touched his arm but he jerked it away from her. Oh this was bad. "Is there anything I can do? Professor Dumbledore -"

"Is aware of the situation."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, breaking eye contact and looking desolately at her own shoes.

"Stop apologising." He snapped. "It is done and the repercussions will be dealt with. In future try to remember that the consequences of our actions can be far reaching, Miss Granger." His tone was neutral and it made her feel worse somehow. Oh, he'd been angry, but now he wasn't, he was being decent. She didn't deserve his decency, not when she been so careless and reckless and had not even considered how a public article like that might affect the Order's spy.

"And don't you dare wait for me." He snapped again.

"Please be careful." She whispered, still looking down. She felt her Professor approach her, hesitate, then sweep out of the deserted classroom without saying a word.

That evening she borrowed Harry's map on the pretence of doing some late night reading in the Library, (Harry hadn't looked convinced, but still) and was hiding in a little alcove, studying the map rigorously. She's watch Snape leave Dumbledore's office, do a lap around the 5th floor then return to his dungeons. Since then he'd been to his office, been to the store cupboard, been in his classroom, been in his quarters, done a lap of the dungeons then returned to his office. Now he was pacing. His nervousness was infectious, even from this distance. She felt another huge stab of guilt. He stopped abruptly and started heading rapidly out of the dungeons…

Out of the entrance hall…

Out of the school gates…

A knot of heavy, panicky anxiety formed in her stomach and she stared at the Snape-free map. 'don't you dare wait for me'. Fuck that. She employed the use of her Disillusionment Charm once again and snuck out of school, waiting outside in a grassy patch she'd dubbed her 'usual spot'. Fawkes was already there. His presence loosened the knot in her stomach slightly. She stroked his fiery chest and settled down to wait.

He reappeared just before midnight. Her heart pounded. He wrenched off his mask and slammed the gates shut behind him. He was standing up ok…

She stood and was just about to reveal herself when …

"Miss Granger I had better not lay eyes on you after I specifically told you not to come." He snarled, sounding exasperated rather than angry but she still felt nervous, this was all her fault after all….

Well then he wouldn't lay eyes on her, it might be better that way. She smiled to herself a little, and slowly walked towards him, stopping much closer than she usually would. He looked stiff and a little twitchy close up.

"Miss Granger, that is not what I meant you stupid girl." He snapped.

She smiled a little more.

"Are you hurt?" She whispered, suddenly apprehensive and nervous again.

He sighed a very long and heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hermione took this moment, where she could see him but he couldn't see her, to properly examine him. He wasn't a good looking man. He had sallow skin, greasy hair and a big nose. All the same…

She reached out a Disillusioned hand to touch his his face but stopped just short of actually touching him. His head snapped up, his eyes narrowed but she kept her hand there, millimetres away from his skin, sure that he wouldn't know what she was doing and itching, itching to touch his face, to reassure herself that he was there and he was ok and God she wanted to know what the skin on his face felt like.

"Not badly." He answered finally, looking near to where her face was.

She sighed heavily, wondering if he could feel her breath on his skin.

"He wasn't angry?"

"He was. But his attentions are mainly focused … elsewhere."

Oh. The Department of Mysteries?

Snape sidestepped around her and started making his way up towards the castle. She slipped into step besides him, her eyes fixed on his hand swinging so close to hers. She wished she could take it. 'JUST TAKE IT', screamed a voice in her ear but she shook her head. Snape would kill her and besides, he was nothing but a bastard. 'Well that's not true' said the same voice, 'he is a bastard at times but there's so much more to him than that…'

When had Fawkes left?

They'd reached the entrance hall. Snape stopped walking.

"If you take one step towards the dungeons I will take 200 points from Gryffindor." He hissed.

She snorted out a startled laugh at his tone, wishing vaguely she was more elegant.

"Yes sir." She answered and, biting her lip to the point where it hurt, she grabbed his hand, slipped her fingers around his and gave them a tight squeeze. "I'm so glad you're okay Professor Snape." She whispered, catching a glimpse of his lips slightly apart, his brows slightly raised and his cheeks flushed before he was sweeping away from her in a flurry of black robes. She sighed as she watched him go.

That impossible man.

Sorry this chapter is up later than I'd said it would be, I ended up deleting what I'd done and starting again so I hope you like it :)

I'm not sure when the next one will be ready, I literally have no time this week but I'll get it done at some point never fear.

I'd just like to thank those who've reviewed as guests - I can only respond to reviews individually if they're from a fanfiction account - the feedback is very much appreciated you lovely people!

*Text between asterisks* from Harry Potter and the Oder of the Phoenix - J.K Rowling