***Important A/N***

Sorry for the late update, folks. I had a bad accident in my house last week, and even though no one is hurt, we've been a little homeless since then. Things are really unsettled, I'm rather unhappy, and I don't currently have time or energy to work on this story. Here's the chapter I planned to post yesterday - no cliffhanger this time, I promise. I'll update whenever I can, and I'll get back into a weekly routine in the new year as soon as I'm able. Wish us luck, please. Hopefully my little family and I can get home sometime before Christmas.

Chapter 27

"Blast the Mudblood bitch into next week, Snape!" Carrow crowed, hardly repressing his glee at seeing his Death Eater colleague enter the silent classroom.

"I think not," Snape said silkily, his eyes still on Hermione. She met the dark man's eyes as he said this last and raised her chin defiantly. Whatever he was playing at, she refused to be intimidated – despite the sneaking suspicion that, unlike Carrow, Snape could handle the DA.

Snape turned to the larger man, his lip curled in a ferocious sneer. "You see, Amycus, I do not make a habit of blasting those who win conflicts such as these. Your methods have brought about this situation – I warned you to this effect earlier this week. I have half a mind to allow it to play out as Miss Granger sees fit."

Carrow mouthed wordlessly, but Snape held up a hand to forestall him.

"However," Snape continued, putting a gentle emphasis on the word, "I believe that everyone in this class has learned a new lesson already today. And, considering that these students seem to align themselves with the group referring to themselves as the –" he paused to curl his lip, " – DA, I believe a penalty is in order." Snape addressed the room at large. "Every student in possession of more than one wand will put their own in their backpacks, and place the taken wands on the desk in front of them."

"And what makes you think we'll agree to that?" Neville demanded loudly from beside Hermione. "Last I checked, you're outnumbered, Snape."

"By all means, engage me, Mr. Longbottom," came the answer, and Snape's depthless eyes glinted with malice, "you may pick up the pieces of your colleagues and –" he gestured at Hermione – "your leader after I am through."

"Neville," Hermione said in an undertone.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, his eyes snapping to hers, his wand still trained on her chest, "your move."

Hermione stared at him, her mind racing. If she bade the DA to follow Snape's instructions it would defuse the situation and halt this potentially devastating standoff. Their message to Carrow would remain mostly effective – Snape's contemptuous attitude to his ally assured her of that – but their triumph would be muted. If, on the other hand, she gave the signal, the DA would press forward with a fight. That same sneaking suspicion washed over Hermione once more: if she chose, Snape would fight, and something between the two of them – and perhaps even between the Headmaster and the entire DA – would overbalance. They had confirmed and reconfirmed two formidable Death Eater foes within the castle, but Snape hadn't raised a hand against a student so far during this horrible, endless school year, and Hermione's mind turned yet again to his gentle treatment of herself, and her dormant suspicions of his true loyalties. She made her decision.

"Do as he says," she said, lowering both the wands in her hands, and placing Crabbe's carefully on the desk before her.

The room rustled around her as the DA members surrendered. As soon as Neville reluctantly placed Carrow's wand on the desk, the latter stepped forward to reclaim it.

"No," Snape hissed, turning his wand on his fellow Death Eater so quickly that Hermione caught her breath. "You will not respond to what has happened here in any way. You have allowed this class to act beyond your control, and you will leave your wand precisely where it is until each of these students has left. There is another issue at hand." Snape gestured lazily to the seven DA posters lining the walls, and spoke to the students once more. "Every student who participated in this standoff – including those lackwits who lost their wands – will use the solvent I have developed to remove each and every one of these abominations from the walls of our school during the time they would otherwise have spent in this classroom. All placards are to be deposited in the Great Hall to be burned at dinner this evening."

Hermione felt her heart sink once more. You knew this would happen, eventually. There was no way the posters would stay up. And of course Snape would develop a way of countering Permanent Sticking Charms. But, she admitted to herself, she'd hoped they would remain for longer than just two days. She looked up when Snape addressed her once more.

"Miss Granger, you will come with me."

"Hermione, no!" Neville shouted.

"Neville, it's –"

"And you, Longbottom," Snape interrupted her, "will serve a week's detentions with Professor Hagrid."

"Now hang on," Carrow interjected, his eyes narrowed, "me and Alecto're in charge of discipline –"

"You forfeited that right, Amycus," Snape said contemptuously, "when you forfeited your wand. And I shall relieve you of the latter for the remainder of the day, seeing as you have been incapable of discerning its effective use in your classroom."

Carrow seemed to visibly deflate, and Snape summoned the wand before making a curt gesture at Hermione. She nodded to Neville repressively, and followed the dark man into the corridor.

Snape led her to an empty classroom and swung the door open.

"In," he snarled.

Hermione took a deep breath and entered the classroom, an unused one down the Charms corridor. She watched as Snape warded the door, casting Silencing Spells, Muffliato, and a number of nonverbal spells. She tried to bring up her Mind's Eye, but the lingering pain the Cruciatus had left burned across her psyche. She pushed past it – she couldn't imagine facing Snape without Occlumency this time. She succeeded, but she could tell that it would cost her dearly later on.

"How may I help you, sir?" she asked his back a moment later, relieved that her voice sounded coolly neutral.

Snape turned to her. In a classroom once more, with his teaching robes billowing around his thin, solid form, his dark hair framing his face, and his eyes flashing with fury, he was every inch the intimidating Potions master.

"Did we or did we not discuss your role as Head Girl in this institution, Miss Granger?"

His voice was a low, silky rumble, and Hermione refused to make eye contact; instead, she picked a spot on the wall behind his head and focused on that. It's easier this way, she thought remotely, squashing the rising ache in her chest, I don't have to feel anything right now. This will play out, and I'll leave. And that will be that.

"We did indeed discuss it, Professor," she answered simply, retaining that same neutrality.

He took a long step forward so that he stood directly in front of her. Hermione focused on his shoulder, refusing to be affected by his sudden proximity.

"And did I not tell you how I would deal with anyone who endangered the safety of the students in my school?"

"No, actually." Thanking her borderline-eidetic memory, Hermione moved her voice into ringing pedantic tones as she recited his words back to him verbatim: "What you said was, 'This is my school. And I have been given the authority to run it as I see fit. Anyone – and I mean anyone who threatens the safety of my students will be dealt with as I see fit.' You didn't mention what would happen to someone who endangered the safety of your students. But please, Professor, do enlighten me."

She expected him to react angrily, as he had always done when Harry used impudence with him. Instead, his voice took on a strained quality.

"Do you want to see this school upended, Granger?" He took another step closer, and Hermione took a corresponding step back. Simultaneously, she distanced herself from the strain in his voice as firmly as she could, retaining her Occlumency around her like a cool, brittle shield. I don't have to feel anything right now. I am a statue. I am a stone. I am nothing. He continued in the same tone, "Do you want to see what will happen if you or any of your idiotic friends push Amycus and Alecto Carrow too far?"

Hermione kept a hold of her Occlumency by sheer force of will, her forehead prickling with the strain of retaining her Mind's Eye and denying her emotions. It took her much longer than usual to reply, and she sensed Snape's growing impatience. Allowing her eyes to drift downwards, she saw that he'd clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. Her own hands felt loose and slack, and utterly empty.

"Do you want to see more torture perpetrated in this school?" she returned at last. "It seems that you expect me to step aside and allow your Death Eater friends to hurt my fellow students – not to mention myself – how does that fit in with your 'anyone who threatens the safety of my students' standpoint?"

"Had you followed my instructions and attended me this afternoon rather than going to Dark Arts, the situation would never have escalated," he snapped.

Hermione barked a short, sharp laugh, infusing it with as much ridicule as she could find in the increasingly bleak landscape of her Mind's Eye.

"Sure, Professor," she said.

Snape's hand flashed out, and he grasped her chin gently. He tilted her face upwards so that she had to look at him, but Hermione focused on one of his sharp cheekbones instead of his eyes. He looks more gaunt than ever, some nattering part of her mind was saying, and there are dark circles under his eyes again. I wonder… He released her chin.

"Look at me," the dark man said. The fury had left his voice.

Hermione took a deep breath.

"No," she answered.

She held tight to that neutrality, that austere little office landscape she'd created. It was cold comfort at a time like this, and she could feel her heart filling with that same coldness, icing over as she stood before this man once more.

"I told you…" he said, and she could feel the pressure of his eyes attempting to find her own. "I told you not to engage your Mind's Eye after the attack earlier this week, Granger, and I suspect that is precisely what you have been doing in order to conceal your emotions for the duration of this conversation. You will cause lasting harm to yourself."

I don't care. I don't fucking care right now, she told herself, this is better than feeling… whatever it is I'd be feeling right now with him.

"That's my look-out, isn't it?" her dull voice said. She squared her shoulders. "Now, if you have nothing else to say, sir, I'd like to leave."

Hermione's eyes left his cheek and drifted down to his mouth, which had firmed into a thin line.

"Granger," he said, "I…" He sighed, and turned away from her abruptly. "I will expect you to attend me immediately the next time you are summoned to my office. Is that understood? We will resume this conversation tomorrow evening."

"As you say, Professor," Hermione responded blandly.

The dark man unwarded the room, and opened the door for Hermione. She walked past him, still firmly refusing to look into eyes that seemed to follow her a long way back up the corridor.

It was indeed just as he said: an odd melee of DA and DE members arrived at the Great Hall just before the start of dinner that night, bearing every single poster Hermione and Ginny had spent hours putting up throughout the castle earlier that week. They threw the mass of colourful parchment and paperboard into a large pile at the top of the huge room, and Snape banished the shuffling students to their respective house tables.

Hermione watched through the careful dispassion of her Mind's Eye as Snape made a speech, his low voice echoing throughout the Great Hall. It was precisely what she'd expected: a formal address about the importance of unity in their school laced with subtle threats to those students who refused to fall in line. She did note that Snape did not specifically mention the DA, nor the particular behaviour that would incur the punishment he threatened – it was an ambiguous speech overall, and one that left her with the impression that the headmaster was reluctant to state his full support of the Carrows.

Then he set fire to the pile of posters, and Hermione watched as the DA's rallying cries went up in smoke.

A/N 2: Just to reassure my excellent readers, this story is NOT done. I'll be back with more angst, intrigue and... can we call this romance? Slow burn indeed :D