Chapter 18

Hermione and the boys discussed the trip to Godric's Hollow over the next few days. They were refreshed and enthusiastic to be planning something – anything – at this point that might yield advancement in this enormous, daunting undertaking. Ron said over and over how he wished Hermione could come, but she stood firm.

"I can't just leave the castle," she wrote three days after the other students had left for the break. "I'm escorted everywhere I go, and even then the Carrows are always around. And Professor Snape, too."

"It must be dull as tombs over there," Ron wrote back quickly. "But you know you could use the Map to – "

"No," Hermione wrote quickly. "I can't."

It took a few minutes for the reply to come, in Harry's writing.

"Are you all right, Hermione? Ron's gone outside to get some firewood."

Hermione smiled to herself, imagining an angry, red-eared Ron barrelling around a forest in the middle of nowhere.

"Yes. I'm fine. I'm hoping to maybe – it's a big maybe, mind – see my parents sometime during the holidays."

"I'm guessing that you won't be able to leave them if you do go see them."

Hermione was pleased that he didn't try to pry into her arrangement with Snape.

"Definitely not," she wrote. "But I'll let you know if and when I do go. And I want you to keep me up-to-date when you leave. Night after tomorrow, right?"

"Right. We're going to get the hairs for the Polyjuice tomorrow."

"And you've already got a safe way out in case of an emergency?"

"Yes."

"Make sure you hide the beaded bag on you somewhere. Don't just put it in a pocket or –"

"It'll be in the moleskin pouch, like all the other important stuff."

"Fine, but I think you'd better keep the pouch in your sock, not around your neck. Just in case you do get caught by someone and they disarm and search you. No one ever checks the socks."

"Sure."

Hermione nodded to herself. This expedition made her nervous in the same way the boys' trip to the Ministry of Magic had done, but there was nothing else for it. She cast a look outside at the blank, dark grounds. She'd been cooped up these last three days. She'd finished the holiday homework after the first day, and she'd finished her Occlumency reading that afternoon. She was bored, and she couldn't remember the last time she had been out of the castle. She grinned at the irony; Harry and Ron would probably have given anything to safely return to comfort of Hogwarts at this moment, while she longed for nothing more than to escape it.

"I've got to go," she wrote to Harry. "I love you both. Be careful getting those hairs. We'll talk tomorrow."

She put the twinned parchment away, and took up the Marauder's Map. A quick scan told her that almost all of the professors had retired for the evening. No one was patrolling, but she saw Professor Slughorn's dot walking through the dungeons towards the kitchens. The Carrows were together in Alecto's quarters, Filch was in his office, and Mrs. Norris was with him. Hermione looked at the Headmaster's Office, but Snape's dot wasn't there. Another scan of the map told her that he was not within the castle or grounds. Shrugging to herself, Hermione pulled one of her old Weasley jumpers (raspberry pink with a large purple H on it) on over her head.

Smiling to herself, she called a name. Dobby appeared by her side immediately, bowing so low that his long nose brushed the tops of his feet.

"Harry Potter's friend, miss," he squeaked.

"None of that, Dobby," she said, patting the elf's shoulder affectionately. He straightened up and Hermione smiled at him.

"I wonder if you could stay in the Room of Requirement for an hour or so for me. I need a bit of air, and I don't want all of this – " she gestured to her cosy bedroom and through the open door to the DA Headquarters beyond – " to disappear."

"Of course, Harry Potter's friend, miss. Dobby will stay here all night if he has to."

"Thanks, Dobby. But it'll just be an hour or so."

She gave the elf a cheerful wave, took up the Map again, and left the Room of Requirement at a quick pace.

Walking out here alone was bliss; the last time she'd had the opportunity for a little fresh air had been at the last Quidditch game, in which Slytherin had crushed Gryffindor. The forest loomed around her, the castle stood sentinel in the distance, and Hermione trudged through the snow, breathing the chill air and smiling to herself. On an impulse, she walked around the outskirts of the forest, and approached Hagrid's hut.

The gamekeeper's beetle-black eyes were suspicious and guarded when he opened the door, but he recognised her immediately and caught her up in a massive – and bone-crushing – hug. Over rock cakes and tea, they had a long discussion about the DA, the state of Hogwarts, and the larger Wizarding world. After a brief hesitation, Hagrid glanced at her fervently and confessed that he was planning to throw a party in the New Year.

"What kind of party?" she asked warily.

"Nothin' fancy, yeh understand," he answered quickly. And he went on about how important it was to support Harry, even from a distance, and how much he thought the students could benefit from getting together to celebrate the Chosen One.

Hermione, who had been gathering herself to leave, sat herself right back down and spent a quarter hour trying to dissuade Hagrid from this disastrous plan. He came around eventually, if reluctantly, and Hermione left his hut feeling an odd mixture of comfort and discomfiture.

She walked it off slowly now, looking up at the full moon that shone down through a gap in the clouds. It was cooler down here by the lake, but Hermione kept going. Something in the sky by the Forbidden Forest caught her eye: a dark shape soaring over the trees like a huge bird of prey, coming towards her. Hermione gasped, her mind shooting to a conversation after the disastrous retrieval the Order had executed to get Harry safely out of his aunt's house… it was something Bill said that confirmed what she and Kingsley had seen as they flew madly away from a shape on the wind, black flowing robes and a skull-like face…

"Oh no," she breathed. She drew out her wand and cast the best Disillusionment Charm she could muster over herself, hoping she hadn't been spotted yet, and then she stepped slowly into the shadow of the forest behind her. She pulled out the Marauder's Map, and tore her eyes away from the approaching dark shape in the sky. She fumbled for a moment, terrified, and then sighed in relief: the name Severus Snape appeared next to the dot that was now almost overheard.

Her relief bled away when she saw that the dot seemed to be hovering over her. Shit! She cursed herself silently, and made a quick retreat further back into the trees. And then she saw them: the footprints she'd left behind in the snow, leading to precisely where she stood now. Oh hellfire, she swore silently, but it was too late to wipe out the prints – Snape was landing about twenty feet away, just by the side of the lake. The snow melted around him immediately – Of course, flying like that in this weather would mean using extensive heating charms – and he stalked forward slowly, wand aloft, following her footprints. Hermione took a deep, careful breath, tucked the Map into her robes and checked her Mind's Eye. Then she mustered her courage, stepped out of the shadow of the trees and lifted the Disillusionment Charm.

Snape stood only ten feet from her, and Hermione looked at his drawn, expressionless face and felt herself tremble slightly, although she was uncertain that it was from the cold. He was dressed in a black travelling cloak, and heat came off him in waves as he stepped closer to her. She realised that she hadn't seen him in a while.

Not since I begged him to take me to see my parents…

"Granger," he said when he stood before her. "What is the meaning of this?"

He sounded… neutral. And when Hermione examined his face more closely, she saw what she would have missed months before they'd begun spending Friday evenings together: his eyes were rimmed with red, his shoulders slightly slumped, the lines around his mouth taut and stern. He looked tired, and… troubled?

"I fancied a walk," she answered, her trembling turning into shivering. She realised that the hour-long stroll that had begun before nine o'clock had gone on for hours, and that the warmth of Hagrid's hut had slowly seeped from her to be replaced by a chill she hadn't felt until now.

"A walk outside." He stepped a little closer, and Hermione felt more heat rolling off of him. "In this cold. In nothing more than an ill-fitting jumper."

"I didn't expect to be out for long. I just got… carried away," she finished lamely. He looked away, towards the castle, and Hermione saw that he shivered slightly where he stood, despite his heat. She asked it without thinking: "He taught you to fly, then?"

Snape's attention snapped back to her. Hermione held his gaze, despite how odd it felt to be standing with him next to the Forbidden Forest in the dead of winter. He gave a curt nod.

"Is it difficult?"

"Yes."

"How – ?"

"Another time, perhaps," he said with a sigh. "For now, we must return to the castle."

Hermione drew herself up to her full height.

"Maybe I'm not quite through walking," she declared.

He sneered.

"You're half-frozen. And it's late." His obvious exhaustion subsided for a moment as a miniscule smile turned up one corner of his thin mouth. "And I have somewhere to take you."

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, and quickly shut it again. Fear slid over her, and she stepped quickly away from Snape and back towards the Forest.

"No, I'm not going – "

He followed her, frowning.

"I refer to what we discussed at our last meeting, Granger," he said gently. "Nothing more."

To her parents – he planned to take her to her parents. She sighed in relief and felt herself sag towards him. He hesitated for a moment, and then tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. Warmth seeped through Hermione, and she realised that her shivering had turned into shaking.

"How long have you really been out here?"

He examined her closely and, without letting her answer, turned them both around and steered her forcefully towards the castle. He went on berating her for her stupidity, for being underdressed, for risking a walk next to the forest, but he punctuated his harsh admonishments with renewals of his strong heating charms.

They came within sight of the castle, and he paused for a moment before asking, "The Carrows will have left the castle – and you are lucky, girl, that they would have used the gates to the south, but I wish to confirm their absence before we go any further."

"What – " she started to ask, and then realised what he was asking for. "Oh, okay." She drew out the Map with her free hand and they looked it over together. "I don't see them, do you?"

"No, it's as I thought. They're gone. Come," he pulled at her gently.

They walked quickly and entered the castle through a side door. Inside, Snape released her arm at once. They navigated the castle quietly, but Hermione couldn't help voicing the worry that sprang up when she thought of the Carrows.

"Won't they realise I'm gone once they're back?"

"They will be away over the next days, perhaps even weeks. They will not know that you are gone."

"What about the other staff?"

"I will make your excuses."

"So…" Hermione felt hope flutter in her chest as they neared the Gryffindor Common Room. "So I get to spend Christmas with my family?"

They stopped before the portrait of the Fat Lady, and the small smile appeared again briefly before Snape nodded. Hermione didn't even think about it, didn't consider it for a moment: she closed the space between them and threw her arms around his neck, drawing him into a close, fierce hug. He was stiff in her arms, but Hermione rested her head on his clavicle, and thought briefly of that time, months ago, when he'd held her, anchored her, in the fire. As she inhaled the scent of his robes – woodsmoke and herbs – she thought he'd pull back immediately, but he surprised her. His hands came up and, so lightly she might have imagined it, he rested them around her waist, drawing her infinitesimally closer.

It could not have lasted longer than a moment before he was indeed stepping back. He ran his hands through his greasy hair, and looked down at his feet. Two spots of colour appeared high on his cheeks, and, a little embarrassed herself, Hermione turned away.

"I'll just get my things, then. I packed days ago, just as you instructed. I won't be but a moment."

She hastily gave the Fat Lady the password, ran to the Seventh Year dormitory, and entered the Room of the Requirement through the secret door therein to reach her real quarters. There, it took more than "but a moment" to bring down the deep red blush that had suffused her cheeks and neck.

They were silent during their careful walk back down through the castle. The Map confirmed what they'd seen earlier: everyone else in the castle had retired. Dobby's little dot stayed in the Room of Requirement, and would remain there until Hermione returned. Snape Disillusioned her when they reached the Entrance Hall, and then bade her to follow him, and they walked across the grounds together towards the southern gates. There, Snape took her rucksack and slung it over one shoulder – Hermione could not help smiling at the odd combination of severe Potions Master and bright red Jansport backpack. Snape held out his hand, Hermione grasped it, and without a word, they whirled away from Hogwarts.

Hermione stumbled a bit, but Snape steadied her.

"Where are we?" she asked, suddenly nervous. She'd expected to land on the doorstep of Snape's house at Spinner's End, but they stood in a dark alley instead, grey snow piled around them, refuse at their feet.

Snape released her hand, and stepped away from her, looking around warily.

"I said – "

"Ssh!" He raised a hand to forestall her questions. "Stay there."

He walked to the mouth of the alley, looking back and forth. His wand slid from his sleeve, and Hermione felt his magic slide down the alley towards her; it was the same revealing spell he'd used to get her attention last summer. He glanced back towards her, and nodded. Hermione moved forward – he followed her movements vaguely, and she remembered that the Disillusionment Charm was still in effect.

"Sir?"

"We are quite alone," he said by way of explanation. "Come."

Hermione followed him along the run-down street, through another alley, and she abruptly recognised the ramshackle house she'd seen so long ago when they emerged on the other side.

"I'm not sure how long you'll be able to stay," he told her as they mounted the steps to the landing by the front door. "But I can guarantee at least the next three days."

Hermione turned to the dark man. He lifted the Charm, handed over her rucksack, and gave her a curiously formal nod.

"Thank you," she breathed, tempted to hug him once more. Perhaps he sensed her impulse: he stepped back and seemed to examine his dragonhide boots. "Really, I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"You're quite welcome," he answered softly. He turned away quickly and headed down the steps. "Happy Christmas, Granger," he said over his shoulder.

"Happy Christmas, Snape," she answered, before knocking on the door.