Chapter 39

The first light of dawn found Hermione perched by the little window in her tiny room in DA headquarters. After Draco's message to her – almost identical to the one he'd sent Snape – no word had come. Now, when Hermione felt the stupor descending over her in earnest as the sky lightened over the trees of the Forbidden Forest in the distance, the twinned parchment in her hand finally turned warm. She unfurled it with shaking fingers and beheld at long last a chunky paragraph of Harry's messy writing.

"Stag reporting for duty. Sorry for the delay, Hermione. I was burying Dobby. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. Ron is recovering – she tortured him pretty badly, but Bill says he'll be all right. Dobby also managed to get Ollivander, Luna, Dean Thomas, and Griphook (a goblin) out. I'm just washing up, then I'm going to go and talk to Ollivander and Griphook. Hermione, Bellatrix let something slip while she was torturing Ron. She thought we'd been in her vault, where a fake Sword of Gryffindor apparently is, and she was beside herself thinking we might have taken something else. There's a Horcrux in there – I'm positive, and I have a plan to get to it. If you're not already in the Room of Requirement, get there NOW, Hermione. If you are there already, STAY PUT. I can't go into how I know yet, but when he's finished punishing the people at Malfoy Manor, I think You-Know-Who is going to Hogwarts. Now that he knows Ron has been with me this whole time, he might want to question you. I have to go now, Hermione. Love you. Stay safe."

Hermione did not reel at the vast implications of the message; instead, her exhausted mind slid into its most effective analytical mode, using her Mind's Eye to parse the information, to make the connections Harry hinted at, and to fill in the blanks. She steeled herself for a moment and then tapped the parchment to send a reply.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am that Dobby is dead, Harry. We loved him so much, and I don't think that anyone has helped us more. He was a true hero, rescuing you, Ron, and so many others.

"I can see why You-Know-Who would value Gringotts as a hiding place for a Horcrux, and I want to hear more about your thinking, and everything that happened at Malfoy Manor. I'm safe in the Room, Harry, and I'll stay here until I know the coast is clear. I think that Snape is going to discuss my place in all of this with You-Know-Who – he's with him now. I'll see if I need to stay in the Room permanently, leave Hogwarts completely, or just carry on as usual, and I'll let you know. Write when you can. I love you, too."

Hermione sighed and let the parchment spring back into a roll before she opened the Map to survey the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. And there, as though she'd Summoned them herself, two names popped up on the Hogsmeade side of the grounds: Severus Snape walking alongside Tom Riddle Jr. Hermione barely breathed as she watched the two dots approaching the lake; they paused before separating a moment later, Snape moving towards the castle and Voldemort starting off in a direction that made Hermione gasp and quickly douse the candlelight suffusing her small chamber.

I've done it in time, she told herself, staring down at the Map in the sudden dimness, trying to make out the little dot once more. Her eyes adjusted, and showed her that Voldemort was standing directly opposite where her window looked out on the lake where – oh God, he's going to Professor Dumbledore's tomb.

She knew she shouldn't – it was pure madness to even think of it. And yet it was the easiest thing in the world to slide herself forward, to peer out of the tiny window, to squint her eyes and –

NO!

She almost screamed the word, and now held her silence only by clenching both of her fists to her mouth. Horror raced through her, igniting her blood and stealing the last of the fatigue from her body. Her skin was covered in sudden, pricking goose flesh. Angry, hot tears slid down her cheeks. She watched. Even at this distance she could see the tall, skeletal figure standing over Dumbledore's white marble tomb, which was split open and now yawned, a macabre, gaping mouth in the beautiful grounds. The figure bent down,and a moment later a volley of sparks lit the early morning sky with a bright, sickly light.

Hermione was in precisely the same spot when Neville knocked on her door a while later.

"Come in," she called quietly.

"I didn't hear you come back last night, 'Mione. I've been worried."

Neville looked almost as tired as she herself felt, and she tried to give him a smile, which he returned tentatively.

"I've had a long night following some developments from Harry and Ron," she gestured to the Map in her lap, which had showed Voldemort departing Hogwarts just moments before. Neville nodded, looking worried. He hesitated before speaking again.

"I also noticed that the Room is a little different...?"

"Yes, I sealed it, and it has to stay sealed until I have news."

Neville sat down on her unused bed, and Hermione swivelled in her window seat to face him.

"What's happened?"

"You-Know-Who was here."

Neville blanched.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione! He was here? Did you see him? Why?"

"I only saw him through the window; he didn't come into the castle. I'm not entirely sure of why he was here, but I want to make sure that he's not coming back before either of us sets foot out of the Room."

Neville nodded vigourously, and then eyed her carefully.

"And… are Harry and Ron all right?" His eyes tracked from the Map to the twinned parchment she held clenched in her other hand.

"Yes, I think so. It was a very bad night, though, Neville. I have to tell you," she took a deep breath, already feeling her throat aching with the words, "Dobby is dead."

Neville's face fell, and Hermione saw his eyes fill with tears before he dropped his head into his hands.

"He died a hero," she went on gently, "he saved Harry, Ron, Luna, Dean Thomas, and Mr. Ollivander the wandmaker before…" she hesitated a moment, "before Bellatrix Lestrange killed him."

Neville's chin lifted abruptly, and his eyes cleared. She could almost track his line of thinking as he drew the correct conclusions.

"You know so much already… Malfoy?"

"Yes."

Neville clenched his jaws, bearing his teeth.

"How did they end up there?"

"I'm still waiting to hear about that."

"I want to kill her."

"So do I." Hermione's voice broke.

"And Malfoy? Draco, I mean, did he…?"

"He came through as much as he could, I think. Someone else sent Dobby in before we could."

"We?"

Hermione almost bit off her own tongue.

"Before I…" she trailed off, unwilling to lie to him.

All of the despair had left Neville's face, and he regarded her with a shrewdness she had rarely seen in him before.

"Hermione, where were you last night, really? I stayed up past midnight waiting for you to come in from your walk in the Forest. I checked your room more than once, and you weren't here."

"I…" she paused for a moment before deciding to unleash the truth. "I was with Professor Snape. Malfoy told him what happened at the same time as he sent me a message, and we waited for news together before Snape was summoned by You-Know-Who."

Neville continued to regard her.

"Did he keep you from..."

"From charging in like I was mental? Yes."

Neville's head tilted slightly to the side, and Hermione watched as he considered this, and his posture took on an aspect she recognized. A half-formed, distant memory: a younger Neville murmuring sympathetically to Harry, who knelt crying over the body of Sirius Black in the Department of Mysteries. He knew… even back then, before Sirius was cleared publicly, he knew how to see his friend, how to retain his compassion despite lacking information… The Neville facing her now was older, his gaze more direct, and yet Hermione suddenly knew that all she had to do was lower her Occlumency shields and let him see.

The emotions came over her in a rush, almost overwhelming her completely. Hermione faced Neville nonetheless, and showed him what she'd concealed from everyone for so long.

"Hermione…" he said, his eyes racing over her face. "Hermione, do you mean that Snape helped you last night by keeping you at Hogwarts?"

She nodded.

"Did Snape send Dobby?" Neville's voice didn't climb, didn't even change, but his eyes were alight with something that sent a wave of relief through Hermione: acceptance.

"He tried. Someone else sent Dobby first. We just waited for news together, hoping…" she trailed off, and was grateful when Neville finished for her, "Hoping that Dobby would save them."

He reached out and clasped Hermione's shoulder.

"You did everything right, 'Mione. And so did Snape. And so did someone else." His gaze shifted out the window. "And you're sure that You-Know-Who is gone, are you?"

"I keep double-checking the Map, but I don't think we should leave before Snape gives me the word."

"How long has he been on our side, then?"

"Since the beginning…" she answered slowly, "but I've only been certain of it for a few weeks. I suspected for a long time before that."

"Has he… has he been helping us somehow with your Friday night meetings?"

"Yes. Slowly, and without him wanting to admit it."

Neville turned back to her, an odd humour quirking his lips into a crooked smile.

"He's scarier than I ever thought, fooling us all like that for nearly a year."

"Yes. But Neville, make no mistake: he is in no way someone we can rely on right now – not in the open, at least. He's got his own mission, just the same as we all have, and we can't make him compromise that."

"Of course not," Neville grinned almost cheekily, "and anyway if we joined up with him properly, we'd have to be nice to him."

Hermione laughed, and it came out a little hollowly, despite the relief she felt at telling Neville.

With Ginny gone, someone other than me needs to know what's really going on...

She stepped up next to Neville and put her head on his shoulder. Together, they watch through the window as the sun climbed higher, illuminating the Hogwarts grounds.

The next week rendered Hermione almost insensate with cabin fever. I can relate to Mum and Dad now, she reflected as she retired to her bedroom one evening, and to Harry and Ron too, I suppose. She and Neville remained in the Room of Requirement, which was still sealed off. Neville missed his visits with Aberforth, and Hermione yearned for her solitary walks in the Forest, but they'd both been trying to keep busy.

In light of the events at Malfoy Manor, and the various reports from the ghosts and portraits, Hermione and Neville revised all of the DA's plans for the final stretch of the school year. Even more crucially, Hermione had begun long, almost endless talks with Harry and Ron over the twinned parchment, and their plans had to be incorporated into the DA's as well. Although Hermione knew she couldn't confide the entire plan to Neville, she did include him as much as she could so that he could begin to envision leading the DA himself.

"I just finished talking to Harry and Ron," Hermione began one evening, a week after the events at Malfoy Manor, "and I have to tell you, Neville… I'm going to be leaving Hogwarts soon."

"You're leaving," he echoed, and she could almost see the weight redoubling on his shoulders.

"Yes, but not until the very end of April."

"Right," Neville looked down at his hands, "right."

"I'll be joining up with Harry and Ron," Hermione offered, wanting to explain at least a little of her reasoning for abandoning the DA, "and we're hoping to end things as soon as possible after that."

Neville stared down at his hands for a moment longer before taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and looking back into her eyes.

"It will be hard without you, Hermione, I won't lie. But I think you're doing right. I'll hold Hogwarts for you," his voice filled with determination as he spoke, "at least this part of it," he waved at the Room around them, "so you'll always have somewhere safe to come back to."

And so, with Neville's tacit blessing, the plan to break into Gringotts came together, despite the awkwardness of communicating exclusively via the twinned parchment. There were so many logistics to run through, and Hermione and the boys continually marvelled at Griphook's detailed descriptions of the bank's complex structure and defenses. Even with all of the inherent difficulties, Hermione thought they would be able to move forward with their goal date of May 1st. Her stomach clenched at the thought of leaving Hogwarts, although it was still weeks away; the other students were due back in a couple of days, and she hadn't seen Snape since she'd sealed the Room of Requirement. He didn't know that she would soon be leaving Hogwarts…

Hermione continually requested updates regarding Snape's wellbeing and whereabouts from Phineas Nigellus, but the little man was far more reticent than usual, and so she worried almost continually. She had stopped seeing Snape's name on the Map – he'd disappeared occasionally before, but now he was gone for days on end, reappearing for only a few hours at a time, usually in the dead of night. She shared her worries with Phineas, who just sat hunched in the little painting in her room, refusing to answer any of her increasingly impertinent questions.

And so the cabin fever built alongside all of the organizing, planning, anxiety, and worry… as the Easter holidays bled away, as the return of the school year approached, and as Hermione longed to escape this prison-like Hogwarts, despite her dread at leaving it.

It was morning when he came.

Hermione had just finished a combat training session with Neville, and had returned to her chamber to do some reading when the knock came at the mahogany door. She gasped in surprise, drawing her wand at once.

"Stop being a ninny," she muttered to herself firmly, looking at the Map, which immediately confirmed who was knocking.

It only took a moment to release the seal on the Room, and then Snape was opening the door and stepping into her chamber, which suddenly seemed far too small to contain the reality of him in his black robes, dragonhide boots, and billowing cloak. Hermione looked him over carefully. In the days since Malfoy Manor, she had panicked over a thousand different scenarios: He might have been tortured by You-Know-Who. He might have been forced to do unspeakable things to reaffirm his loyalty as a Death Eater. He might have been killed outright for being exactly what he was.

"You're all right?" she asked after a long moment.

"Obviously," he said with a familiar sneer.

"What are you doing here?" she asked pointedly, trying to ignore her surge of happiness at his sarcastic confirmation. "Don't you know that only loyal members of either the DA or the Order of the Phoenix are capable of entering here?"

The dark man only raised an eyebrow before sweeping the room with his sharp gaze.

"Pack your things, Granger. You have five minutes."

His words and brusque manner sent a jolt through her stomach, but Hermione didn't let it show on her face.

"I don't think so." She sat down smartly on her bed. "I'm not going anywhere today."

"You are," Severus snapped, and he waved his wand, Summoning her Jansport rucksack. Another flick, and the bag began packing itself with the contents of several drawers.

"Not today, no. I'll be leaving on April 30th."

Severus paused, his wand still aloft. His gaze met her own, and Hermione felt herself shiver a little at the way his black eyes blazed.

"Arrangements are in place now," he bit out, the tension rising into both his tone and his shoulders at the same time. He resumed packing for her by magic, Summoning a number of toiletries from the adjacent bathroom. "You will do as I say."

"Expelliarmus." Hermione said the spell gently, almost matter-of-factly, and was mildly astonished when the ebony wand sailed out of Severus's hand to land on the bed beside her. She looked up at the dark man, who glared down at her dangerously. "Maybe I wasn't entirely clear. I'm leaving on April 30th, Severus. Not before. Not after. And certainly not today. Arrangements are being made, and I will be at Hogwarts until they are complete."

Severus stood before her, his silhouette widened by the long cloak, his lank hair framing his face, his glare rapidly turning into a glower.

"Do you know," he began slowly, and she heard his half-successful attempt to keep his voice steady, "what I have done to keep you safe this last week, Granger? Do you have any idea –"

"No," she answered, getting to her feet but pointedly leaving both of their wands on the bed behind her. "I don't know, do I? You've left me here to wonder and worry and guess while you've been off God-knows-where doing God-knows-what." Hermione stepped up close and jabbed Snape in the shoulder with her index finger. "You have no idea what I've been through wondering if you were safe, Severus, so I'll thank you not to pretend that you've been honest enough for me to know about anything!"

She glared up into his face, watching as his glimmering eyes flattened to a matte sheen, as his mouth twisted.

"I…" he began, faltering. He dropped his gaze, looking down at where she had unconsciously gripped his bicep. He took a deep, careful breath. When he looked up again his eyes were alight with something different, and he spoke gently, framing the words just so. "I… apologise."

Hermione felt her mouth open in shock. She shut it quickly, and let her hand fall.

"Accepted," she answered. "If you give me an explanation." The dark man glared down at her once more, clearly resenting the ultimatum, and she bowled forward, "It's what allies do, Severus. We share information."

He sighed and stepped around her to retrieve his wand, before sinking onto the edge of the bed with obvious fatigue. Hermione took the chair by the window.

"The Dark Lord was…" Severus seemed to search for the right word, "incensed after Potter escaped. Not just because of the escape itself, but also because of the overall state of affairs within the Death Eater ranks. Lucius has been out of favour for quite some time, but to have Bellatrix fail so completely was as unexpected to him as it was infuriating."

"He needs a new lieutenant," Hermione said, remembering the times Snape had used the term for her friends.

"Indeed, and although I had faced recent challenges within my mandate here at Hogwarts, I was able to frame them as victories. After all, we'd won some compliance with the new measures I'd put in place, and no students had escaped despite the efforts of the DA. In the end, your party," he paused to smirk at her, "proved the incompetence of the Carrows, and ensured my promotion over them. And my retention of a member of the Golden Trio," he waved a long-fingered hand at her, "served to remind the Dark Lord of his strategic advantages over Potter, and the competence of at least one of his servants."

Hermione felt her stomach clench at the thought of Voldemort's murderous attention landing on her.

"But…" she said slowly, thinking over the implications of his summary, "but, how could you have gotten me out safely today when You-Know-Who was so pleased to have me here? How could you risk it?"

He shrugged mildly.

"There are ways to conceal such a disappearance, and two quite idiotic fall-men to take the blame for it."

Hermione smiled at him.

"The Carrows again?" She felt the smile slide off her face. "Where were you planning to take me?"

Snape regarded her intently for a moment, and the silence swelled between them.

"You can still go," he said softly, leaning forward so that the bed creaked, his black eyes fixed on her. "We can leave now, Hermione. Your parents are safe, you've seen that for yourself. You can be with them in less than half an hour, if you so choose."

Hermione closed her eyes, blocking out his tempting offer, his persuasive eyes, his open, honest expression. She couldn't consider this – not even for one moment. And yet the offer tempted her and, even more so, it confirmed to her what her heart had been shouting for so long.

"This changes everything," she said.

"It could, yes," the dark man rose and retrieved the rucksack, "you could be safe." He shouldered the bag and knelt down in front of where she sat in the chair. His next words were a whisper: "I will keep you safe."

Hermione looked at him for a moment, taking in the incongruous image of the severe Potions master and the man kneeling before her, direct, beseeching, and entirely guileless. She leaned down and placed a slow, chaste kiss on his cheek. He drew back.

"I told you, Granger…" he said, his eyes lowered, a pink flush staining his cheeks, "I told you that this… between us… it's… unconscionable –"

"It was," Hermione agreed, and his eyes returned to hers, "when you were my teacher. Or when you were my captor." She traced the line of his jaw with one finger as she spoke. "You've been neither of those things for a long time now."

Severus lowered his eyes once more, but he leaned into her touch, and Hermione cupped her hand around his angular cheek before running her fingers through his hair.

"You cannot think," the dark man whispered, "that I could ever be what you deserve, Hermione." He stood abruptly, and held out his hand to her. "Come. We'll leave at once."

Hermione did stand, and she did take his hand, but she knew for an absolute certainty that she would not be leaving. Not yet.

"I wish I could, Severus," she said, "I really do. But I can't leave until the end of April." She stepped close once more, and was surprised but pleased when the dark man allowed her to take his other hand in hers. "You can keep me safe here at Hogwarts until then."

He opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut a moment later, flinching as he pulled his hands from hers. He glared down at his left forearm, and Hermione followed his eyes to see his hand trembling with pain. Disappointment crested over her.

"So soon?"

"The Dark Lord requires my attendance almost continually…" he sighed. "Even when I request time away."

"Be careful, then, Severus."

He looked as though he wanted to say more, perhaps to use his formidable powers of persuasion to convince her to leave. Before he could, Hermione stepped forward to embrace the dark man, who surprised her. Instead of backing away as she'd expected, Severus turned his head and covered her mouth with his own in a long, lingering kiss.

A/N 1: My apologies, dear friends and readers, for the absence. If you're interested in such things, please see my excuses/stories/explanations in A/N 2. The Prisoner and the Occlumens has been finished - I wrote the last of it a few weeks ago. I will be posting the rest of the tale over the course of the next couple of months. We have seven chapters and an epilogue to go. I'll try to post weekly, and I'll try to catch up on answering all reviews. I love you, each and every one of ya.

A/N 2: Since I last posted I've: completed a trans-hemispheric journey; courted financial devastation; entered the job market for the first time in seven years; been hired for a lucrative position I didn't want but desperately needed; happily declined the unwanted position when my husband was hired for his dream job; packed up an entire house by myself; moved islands; and set up life in a brand new town with no help. The last during Level-3 lockdown. My little family and I are in a much better situation, and I'm lucky enough to be writing this from NZ, which is now COVID-19 free. I hope you are all well, safe, and close to ones you love. You've been an immeasurable comfort these last challenging months. Thank you for everything.