Tie Your Heart at Night to Mine, Love
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Secrets are a dangerous thing.
They are hardly ever safe, and when found, they grant power – to mock, to manipulate.
To threaten.
Which is why hers were kept close to her heart and always away from her mind.
The bookcases did not fix themselves any faster the following day. Much as anything else in Hogwarts, they seemed to possess a mind of their own, as if regal reluctance to being pieced together by scrawny students would attest to their distinction.
They worked in silence, awake, but only just, battling the splintered, mahogany-colored furniture as sunbeams disrupted the early morning fog outside the windows. Snippets of conversation were saved for later, for both Hermione and Ginny's sakes. For Hermione, it would not do to displease Madam Pince after she so generously overlooked her most recent transgression. For Ginny… well, the girl was hardly a morning person.
Damocles' potion had proven itself… rather absurd. Once all of the other occupants of Number 12, Grimmauld Place apart from the occasional spider had retired the night before, Hermione escaped into the library and sat in her favorite armchair, book and hot chocolate in hand. She sipped her beverage and rested the mug on the floor, the warm sweetness tingling on her tongue as she flipped the journal open by its ribbon marker. It opened to the title page – in Greek, as the cover had been. A small inscription ink bled from the initial blank page, but Hermione disregarded it, sliding her finger through the back of the page as if caressing silk and turning it at the bottom corner.
Such ceremonies didn't last for long.
Several hours later found her cross-legged on the wooden floor encircled by Greek, Ancient Arithmancy, and Advanced Potion books, her cold chocolate forgotten somewhere, and even the magical candles – Thaddeus Bloomberg's Extra-durable Dragon-fired ones – giving out on her. An opinion or two concerning a pedantic Damocles and his abstruse writing might have escaped her and, oddly enough, shooting pains through her legs and back punctuated both occasions. In the end, protesting limbs and tired eyes had earned her little more than a list of ingredients – a less than accurate one, too.
So when her mind wandered that morning, in the way minds do when presented with menial work, it did so to other things, things she'd been trying to dismiss: Kingsley's offer. A Ministerial job…The thought was not new to her, yet she could not properly consider it, nor grasp its intricacies until she could determine his intentions and loyalties. And, for reasons she preferred not to explore in greater detail, Hermione had meant to convey such doubts concerning the Auror to Remus, and Remus alone.
She swallowed. It was illogical, really. Perhaps even downright irresponsible, to her horror. As she returned the History of Magic volumes to a finished bookcase, the authors' names stared at her – witches and wizards known for their better judgment. Witches and wizards who would never be inclined to endanger an entire organization due to their personal feelings, even less so if they happened to be within the walls of Hogwarts and under the supervision of Professor McGonagall.
Disapproving books and misguided feelings made for a lousy, confusing explanation as she parted with Ginny at lunch, fighting the swarm of students heading towards the gardens on her way to the second floor. She wasn't alone. Thoughts never left her, self-reprimands and dread over worst-case scenarios were met with reasoning – only a day had gone by since her lunch with Kingsley, and she had, although for the wrong reasons, tried to contact an Order member about it. Thoughts never left her – then again, as good or bad a companion, thoughts did not produce footsteps.
Hermione missed them at first, lost within the noise of her own mind. At the turn to reach the Gargoyle Corridor, however, she caught a shadow from the corner of her eye, drawing her attention to the rhythmic sound echoing her own. Her feet didn't slow, the spring of her pace kept her going forward even as her eyes settled on the other student headed her way. He seemed nothing like anyone she knew and yet somehow familiar. His hair was a dull brown, his face bony and lusterless. He wore no house tie or crest, yet his white shirt collar was buttoned up high in unnecessary discipline. And his eyes… coldness took her body as she searched them. It sat deep within her stomach, froze her lungs like icy water and a cruel prank, and as her vision clouded she could feel her mouth gaping open.
He'd cursed her!
Mist thickened over her eyes, and her gaze no longer met his. In a second, her lungs quick-started and her upper body gave in to an uncontrollable urge:
"Achoo!"
"Merlin bless you, miss Granger!" wished the masculine voice a few inches above, and Hermione's eyes focused on the faint, milk-white shape of the Gryffindor ghost that now floated before her.
The boy hadn't cursed her after all, war had made her paranoid.
"Sir Nicholas! I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't—I didn't intend to—"
"Go through me? Oh, but I assure you, one would not assume such rude thing of you!" A translucent blush tinged his cheeks and he cleared his throat, "I was distracted myself, do forgive me. You're faring well, I trust?"
"Quite well, thank you. And you, sir?"
"As much as can be expected," His mustache lifted to a side with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "On your way to see the Headmistress? You may want to mind the last step, I'm afraid it isn't as sturdy as it used to be. Or so I'm told."
With a bow of his head, Nearly Headless Nick disappeared through the floor, leaving her to follow her way. Hermione cast a glance around – neither the boy nor the Gargoyle were anywhere to be found. Regarding the former, Hermione thought it safe to assume he had returned to whatever business had brought him to the second floor, which didn't include cursing people on the halls. As for the latter… it had likely taken flight and defended Hogwarts at the Headmistress' command, as the other statues had done. Though most of the suits of armor had withstood the final battle, many of the stone defenders hadn't, falling victim of far too many dark spells to be put together by a simple mending charm. Entire sections of the castle had become hollow, if not destroyed, lacking in previous ornaments turned fellow combatants and protectors.
The Gargoyle Corridor now joined the dismal list.
The stone staircase moved on its own as she approached it, no password required. She minded the faulty step as she climbed, pushing herself past it in order to reach the half-open door to the office.
"Professor McGonagall?" When her call stirred no answer, Hermione drifted closer, pushing the door open as she took a step inside, "Hello?"
She walked further into the room, which now housed far fewer trinkets than it had during Dumbledore's charge. So much so that only a couple of objects kept it from looking impersonal altogether – Professor McGonagall's golden hourglass and her standing Wizarding World globe. It was one of the room's unintended additions, however, rather than an intentional subtraction, that got the witch's attention.
On the wall of Hogwarts Slytherin's Headmasters and Headmistresses, squeezed between Elizabeth Burke –who wrinkled her nose at her – and Phineas Nigellus Black – who acknowledged her with a nod – was the never-resting portrait of Severus Snape. Unlike Dumbledore's, the Potions Master depiction bore darker, less-nuanced streaks, with vial-filled walls merging into an indistinct background. Three lit candles sat on the corner of the desk, their gleam enough to illuminate the neatly ordered stack of papers atop of it and light one side of Professor Snape's face as much as it cast shadows to the other. His fingers gripped a dark-feathered quill as his eyes roamed across the parchment, his inscrutable expression framed by his black hair.
The image resembled – and was probably painted throughout – a grading session. She felt a pang as she faced him. Although striking, neither the ghostly image George had managed to devise, nor the portrait hung on the wall could alleviate the last memory she had of Professor Snape. The sound of Nagini's engorged body slithering along the Boathouse's stone floor, Voldemort's parseltongued command, the snake's continued strikes as his body hit the wooden walls… And the notion that, of all of the antidotes she had carried in her purse for the last nine months, not a single one could have saved him.
The professor looked up from his papers and caught her stare. "What are you doing here?"
Sympathy would not go unpunished.
"I came to see the Headmistress."
He raised an eyebrow, "Concerning…?"
Hermione couldn't bring herself to say 'Order business', not when his service had gotten him killed. So she lied. "My—My NEWTS. I'd like to take them early."
It wasn't a farfetched subject for her after all, yet Professor Snape appraised her with narrowed eyes and a sneer.
"Aren't you…wise, Ms. Granger?" The way he curled the word on his tongue sat ill with Hermione. Never during the six years she'd studied at Hogwarts had he praised her, "I never quite pictured it, although you always were Minerva's little pet. I suppose it's only befitting."
Silence settled as she grasped his meaning and it wouldn't come as a surprise if beads of sweat started to gather on her wrinkled brow – each split of a second increased the chance of failure, of being deemed stupid in a dry remark by the one teacher bound to belittle her. It was an accusation, that much she was sure of – a flaunting one, phrased with very specific wording. Clever wording.
No. He didn't – he couldn't have—
Hermione gulped and steadied her voice, the correct answer no longer important, "I don't know what you mean, Professor."
"Don't you? I should have known that stealing from my supplies was merely the first step."
Hermione's insides shrunk, but she raised her chin and eyes regardless. She forced herself not to think about what he was implying. She couldn't risk entrusting him more information in the event his likeness had retained not only the Professor's irascibility but his Legilimency as well. Chances were he already knew too much.
Still, a part of her wished to argue back. To tell him that, not unlike himself – albeit on a much smaller scale – she had done what was needed to keep Harry alive. Doing so had amounted to a fair number of crimes, the one he referred to being the least abhorrent one. Instead, she glowered at him, "It wasn't from your store room."
"No, I wouldn't think it were," the portrait's eyes glinted with something she couldn't quite place. "A secret known by anyone else is a poorly kept secret, Miss Granger. You will do well to remember that."
On the adjoining wall, a loud yawn startled her. Dumbledore made a show of awakening, stretching his limbs as his eyes roamed across the room, "Ah! Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise!"
Hermione returned her gaze to the Potions Master, but his frame was now empty.
Was that a warning or a threat?
She didn't realize she had spoken it aloud until Dumbledore answered, "I believe, dear girl, it was both a compliment and advice. You must excuse Severus, he's quite unused to it. For him to do so, he must find you…remarkable."
Hermione fought the impulse to snort – it was a ludicrous idea to entertain that the Potions Professor could find her anything other than insufferable.
"And if you came looking for Minerva," Dumbledore continued, "I'm afraid you've just missed her."
Not twenty steps from the castle, Hermione spotted Ginny. The girl sat with Harry by the lakeside, throwing bits of their lunch to the Grindylows. Ron was nowhere to be seen.
"I'm sure he still loves you."
Hermione turned with a start to find Luna at her side. Her eyes diverted back to where her two friends lay – and Ron didn't – but she could still sense Luna's on her. Since the girl didn't elaborate, Hermione asked, "Who?"
"Both of them," Breath escaped through Hermione's nose. Professor Snape hadn't meant Hermione's NEWTs earlier, and Hermione suspected Luna also wasn't talking about Harry and Ginny. The Hint-a-thought day was upon her, and nobody had cared to warn her beforehand. Oblivious to Hermione's irritation, Luna added in a sing-song voice, "I should go. Neville is helping me look for Blibbering Humdingers."
Hermione couldn't help rolling her eyes as the blond skipped away. With a controlled breath, she strode to the side of the lake. "Has any of you seen an Order member?"
It was Harry who replied, "Other than us, you mean?"
"Well, yes. A proper adult, if you will."
The couple eyed her, but Ginny kept to herself.
"Uhm… Tonks is at the Quidditch Pitch with Ron, does it count?"
"Nevermind…" What on earth are they up to?"
"She challenged us to a mock duel. For fun, I guess."
"And you didn't accept?"
"Dueling against a highly trained Auror that may accidentally kill me?"
"Fair point."
Ginny grew stiff and shot to her feet, "I better go check on them."
They watched as the redhead bolted towards the Pitch, a gentle breeze further messing their already untamed hairs and the Grindylows frothing the water as they fought for the bits of food.
Hermione broke the companionable silence, "Did he say anything? Ron, I mean."
"No, but it looked like he wanted to."
"Well, I believe forgetting about a kiss trumps telling Professor McGonagall about your Firebolt."
"We did ignore you for that, didn't we? We were quite stupid back then."
"Back then?"
Harry looked away, his expression grave, "I like to think I've improved. Now I'm the Boy-who-lived-twice." A bubble of laughter escaped Hermione and Harry's seriousness dissolved when she nudged him. "That was lame."
"Yes. Yes, it was. But thank you."
A/N: I didn't mean to abandon this story, I swear! But this chapter wasn't coming along the way I wanted and Snape just wouldn't get into character and since I last updated real life got real shitty (country-wide, not just for me). I won't delve into it – I'd like to stick with fantasy life for now and hey, RL suffering is bound to turn into writing potential sometime, right? (*hopeful*)
Limas Crazy Blob Drops and many, many thanks to…
My reviewers: Sampdoria, SereniteRose, laisvega, Calimocho, rosesnblueberries, Sparky She-Demon and RAV3N R1PP3R
To Pinup95, BlueCookiesCoke15, Mrs109, Lthrnflt, WinterElly, cheyeneb, Ananta Dolor, Wolfsfuchs, HPROTG1995, fanmule, CharmingCharmain, xTotallyEclipsexx97, Harts-Of-Lily, Sparky She-Demon, CharredLatte, AngusBoy, Dizioli, Tsukuyomu, PaigeAdams5972, BaileyBadger, Betty who, Aendrae, kris hunter and All alone in the Rain for adding the story to their favorites.
And to dragonfly1339, southernyankee90, lyanne5214, UnicornMist, Lthrnflt, Shayera Grey, Lily-Lizzy Potter, planenutty, moemish1, WinterElly, Hua Ming Miao, Not Romeo's Juliette, cheyeneb, hawknv, sjohnson1, Amazingfullyweird, Marauder Skar, Specularia, bookwormgracie, XMusicMinefieldX, sthrnpanther06, Wolfsfuchs, cerezo23, padfoot'sgirl12, xxx0DarkFaery0xxx, garymyoldman, Kikimay, logiebrown, teamprewett, starryeyed10, AlenEm, CharmingCharmain, AdeleineAxy, xTotallyEclipsexx97, BrittabyHope, ANGSWIN, Godric24, NessyVane, artemisia tommasinis, XPao-17X, AngusBoy, alueira, Tsukuyomu, BeccaTurner1892, RAV3N R1PP3R, PaigeAdams5972, pandamiko, klwiggins2014, BaileyBadger, chrissy011701, Betty who, Aendrae, Risiska, Serenity Akagi, th8rshoes, spookygolin, Slee247, Jhuffy and awhisperintime1 for following the story.
Thank you all! Please review :)