Hermione met Snape at the foot of the Grand Staircase at six o'clock, just as the student body was beginning to eat their dinner. The man appeared to be bored, unconcerned by what they could possibly find during their search of the castle. She, on the other hand, was anxiously struggling to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. She was terrified to discover what Mathilda had planned for the evening.

"Hello," Hermione said with obvious nervousness in her voice. Snape nodded to her curtly, eyes following a pair of stray students as they rushed to make the meal on time. As soon as they'd passed, he turned to return the greeting.

"Hello, Professor. Let's be on our way."

"Right," Hermione agreed, swiftly turning to follow Snape down to the dungeons. Quickly, she realized that she'd have to nearly jog to keep up with the man's long strides. Not only were his legs much longer than hers, but his gait was also naturally faster. Fortunately, after a few corridors of her struggling, the wizard took notice and slowed his pace.

"How do they plan to lure the Muggle-borns to their attack?" Snape asked, breaking the silence after several minutes of quiet wandering.

Hermione tried to recall each detail she'd overheard. "All I know is that they sent several Muggle-born students an invitation. I couldn't tell you what they were for, though."

Snape nodded, his gaze calculating as they finished their sweep of the castle's lowest floor. "We'll save a lot of time by getting our hands on one of the invitations. I'll let us into the Slytherin common room to search for one."

Hermione hadn't thought of the idea, but it certainly beat investigating each and every inch of Hogwarts. The man definitely had the resourceful mind of a Slytherin.

After rounding a few corners, they arrived at the bare stretch of stone wall which hid the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeon. Curiosity flooded the witch as she considered what it might look like inside, for she'd missed out on Harry and Ron's escapade there during her second year of school. Her friends had offered her a minimal description of the interior, but seeing the room for herself would finally fulfil her sense of wonder.

"Emerald," Snape spoke to the disguised entrance. In obedience, a passageway granting access to the common room revealed itself.

"After you," the wizard offered politely. Hermione, giving small, appreciative grin, stepped forward to lead the way.

The common room was both similar and completely different from what she'd imagined. Its walls maintained a dungeon-like look, adorned with tapestries conveying the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. Greenish lamps and chairs were scattered about the room, as well as leather sofas and dark wooden furnishings. The light in the room had a greenish tinge, reminding the witch that it was partially underwater. The atmosphere was quite grand but lacked the feeling of warmness she'd loved about Gryffindor Tower. To Hermione, it didn't feel like a home.

"Not impressed, I see," Snape commented before embarking on his search for an invitation. Hermione's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, for she didn't want to come across as rude.

"It's not that! I guess it's just not what I'm used to," she explained, hoping to convince the man of her reasoning. "Gryffindor's common room is very different."

"I would imagine," Snape replied a little snidely, picking up a school bag that had been lazily discarded to the floor. Sifting through its contents, his hand quickly emerged with an opened envelope stuffed with a letter. "We are in luck, Professor."

Hermione ran to the wizard excitedly, hopeful that they'd discovered a lead to the attack.

Dear Ms. McGowan,

Congratulations! You have been selected as a worthy candidate for membership in Hogwart's greatest, most honorable club. While we can not yet provide you with any information regarding the nature of this confidential organization, we look forward to enlightening you at a private dinner. Please join us this Friday, September 29th, at 6:30 in classroom 22b.

Sincerely,

The N.D.E. of Hogwarts

Hermione stared in disgust at the impressively deceptive letter. The curly font it was written in was extremely convincing, for upon first glance she'd truly believed it to be the headmistress's handwriting. Had she received such an invitation as a student, she'd surely have accepted it without a second thought. She was confident that the trick had been successful and that right then, several students were one their way to being ambushed.

"Neo-Death Eaters of Hogwarts," Snape muttered quietly, gaze directed at the signature of the letter.

As Hermione felt the soft tickle of Snape's breath against her cheek, she suddenly realized just how close to the man she'd gotten while reading the invitation. Their faces were within inches of each other, but it seemed that she was the only one aware of the close proximity. Heart rate skyrocketing, she frantically jumped backward to quickly create some space.

"We need to hurry," Snape insisted, oblivious to the witch's moment of panic. "The Muggle-borns should be arriving there in less than five minutes."

Hermione nodded in agreement, hoping her reddened cheeks had returned to normal before the man could notice. She didn't want to explain why she was suddenly a flustered, blushing mess.

Snape stuffed the letter into an inner pocket of his robes, turning to lead the way out of the common room. The pair hastily walked through the lengthy dungeon corridors, arriving at the entrance hall with only a couple of minutes to spare. Expecting to climb the Grand Staircase to the second floor, Hermione was surprised when the wizard led them in a different direction.

"Shortcut," he shortly explained before she needed to ask.

Unsurprisingly, the castle had yet another secret passageway she was unenlightened about. Halfway down one of the nearby corridors, Snape stopped and then began making slow, calculated steps across the floor. To Hermione, there didn't appear to be any consistent pattern, but after around ten carefully considered steps, a set of stairs grew out of the ground.

"Let's go," Snape urged the witch, snapping her out of her amazement. "This will take us directly to it."

Sure enough, the magical stairway provided immediate access to the outside of classroom 22b. Hermione looked around urgently, expecting to see Muggle-born students heading in their direction with plans of attending a private dinner. She was shocked, however, to be faced with a completely desolate corridor, save for the professor beside her.

Not stopping to consider the strange absence of students, Snape continued toward the classroom, ripping open its door with his wand at the ready. Hermione quickly followed him, entering the small room unsure of what she might find within.

Snape immediately turned back to her, annoyance in his dark gaze. "Empty," he declared with exasperation. "They knew we were coming."

Hermione's shoulders fell in defeat as she looked around the room for herself. "How is this possible?" she asked aloud, furiously racking her brain for an explanation. "Who could've tipped them off?"

"It doesn't matter. We've underestimated them," Snape admitted, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms against his chest. "We're going to have to take a different approach."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, trying to remain calm as the frustration of their failed plan came down on her.

"We will go to the Great Hall. You will point out the students you saw with Mathilda earlier, and I will handle them," he explained matter-of-factly, turning to exit the classroom decidedly.

Hermione remained still, unsure of what "handling" them meant. However, as soon as she realized Snape wasn't stopping to wait for her, she rushed to catch up with the determined man.

"Okay," she agreed, once again struggling to keep up with his speed. "As long as you're the one doing the interrogating."

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