So sorry for the wait! (TT^TT)

Chapter 31

"Where is he?" Hermione burst through the Floo at Headquarters, frantically searching the front room as if Harry would be waiting for her by the coat hanger. But of course he wasn't there. He was holed up somewhere in the house half dead, because SHE HADN'T BEEN THERE.

Her friend, her best friend been out there fighting for his life, and likely others' as well, while she had been hidden away in the library, a cosy book in her lap and a tea tray by her side. The guilt was suffocating.

She knew she was no seer. She couldn't have mapped out today any better than Trelawney with her dime store crystals. And yet, that was no excuse. The year had been much too normal for Harry, and Voldemort had been much too quiet. She should have suspected something like this would happen. Something always happened!

"Hermione?" Remus appeared around the corner, tired and disheveled.

"Professor, how is he?"

Remus ushered her forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulder in comfort. It was a testament to his current shambled state, that he didn't automatically refute the title and demand she use his name again.

"He's doing well. Better than we thought."

"Oh, thank God," she sighed.

"Have you heard about what happened?"

"Only some of it."

"It was an ambush," Remus supplied. "We had set up a few Aurors to watch over the children, but it was just a precaution. We hadn't been expecting You-Know-Who to attack them."

"He's done it before," Hermione grimaced, memories of her own escapades fighting Voldemort's forces fresh on her mind. She had learned early on that nothing was sacred to the despot, not even innocent children.

Remus shared a look with her. "True, but there were pure-blood kids there and we thought…it doesn't matter what we thought. The situation deteriorated before we could get it back under control."

"How bad was it?"

"We lost two of the parents, we could possibly lose a third if St. Mungos can't save him. Most of the students were wounded, four of them seriously. It's possible that one may never fully recover, and there were six bystander casualties."

Eight dead, possibly nine…Hermione closed her eyes, shutting out the pain the thought caused. She didn't care if she knew them or not, someone out there had known them, had loved them, and now they would never see them again.

"Our men took a hit as well. Charity and the Aurors on duty took the worst of it, but they're all alive…" For now. She could tell he dreaded thinking it, she dreaded the words herself.

She brushed her hair away from her face, taking a moment. "Where's Harry?"

"Down here."

He took her down the hall to the music room, which had been turned into a makeshift infirmary. White cots had been set up in neat rows, and all manner of people, Order members, house elves, and nurses were running to and fro. The grand piano that had been situated in the center of the room was no where to be seen.

Madame Pomfrey bustled by them, an empty potion vial in her hand. Professor Lupin held out a hand to stop her.

"Poppy, has she…?"

"I'm sorry, Remus, still no response." She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "She's resting is all. She'll be awake in no time. Be patient with her."

"Ah, well. I'll just…" He pointed vaguely to the right, his mood visibly drooping.

"Go to her. I'm sure she would love seeing a friendly face when she wakes," the older witch told him kindly, then left to tend her other patients.

Hermione followed him a few cots down where the once lively Auror was resting.

"Oh Tonks," she sighed. Her skin was swollen, mottled with bruises, and scratches. There was even a golf ball sized burn mark by her ear. And her hair…oh, her poor hair. Half of it looked like someone had taken a chain saw to it. Tonks would be absolutely furious if—NO—when she woke up.

"She went up against Yaxley by herself. Daft girl," Remus spoke softly, his gaze fixed on Tonks' face. He was leaning forward on the small seat by her bed, his hands folded and resting under his chin. "From what I hear, she gave as good as she got."

"Of course she did. This is Tonks we're talking about."

"Poppy says that it looks much worse than it is and she'll be up by morning."

Hermione rested her hand on his shoulder. "Then she will be."

"She's precious to me," he admitted, "I can't…not again…"

Her heart cracked a little at the broken confession, for the fragile man teetering on the edge of madness. He had lost so much, his closest friends, his family. He was a monster to the world, and treated with barely covered disdain. That he was alive and not locked away somewhere was fortunate, that he had found someone who loved him despite his ailment and station (and Hermione knew without a doubt that Tonks loved the older wizard fiercely), was a miracle. As he said, Tonks truly was a precious gift.

"She'll be fine," she asserted. "You won't lose her, Remus."

Remus slumped, his head falling forward. Squeezing his shoulder in comfort, Hermione left him to his thoughts, and began to search for Harry.

Not long into it, she found him in the back of the room, lying peacefully on his cot. He was already surrounded by a group of somber Redheads. Molly was sitting beside her husband with Ron and Ginny taking up vigil on either side of their healing friend. The twins were standing by them at the foot of the bed.

Hermione couldn't remember a time when the rambunctious family was this silent. It added a new dimension of depression to the circumstances.

Molly was the first to spot her hovering nearby, and immediately rose to scoop her up into a bone crushing hug. She was enveloped into their group, given a seat so she could fully commiserate with them, while keeping a hopeful eye on Harry.

She ended up staying with the Weasleys well into the night, standing guard at Harry's side. It was slowly pushing on two in the morning, and the activity in the sitting room had died down significantly. Some of the patients had been given leave to go by Madame Pomfrey early on. Professor Burbage was among them. The others, she didn't recognize.

Kingsley had arrived to transfer the two Aurors over to St. Murgos, stating something about covering tracks, and proper procedure. He had arranged for them to be under watch by men he knew he could trust.

Tonks wasn't leaving with them though. As a favor to Remus, Kinglsey had brought a packet of medical papers, signed by Tonks' mother, that allowed the Auror to recover there with Remus and the rest of the Order. 'Officially', the documents claimed that Tonks had been released by her family so she could be tended at home by a private physician—a not so far fetched occurrence, at it turned out. Apparently, most elite, Pure-blood families preferred to be treated in the privacy of their own homes (less gossip, and nosy busybodies) and Andromeda, while disowned in name, was still considered by many a member of the 'most noble and ancient house of Black.' So, in short, no one would turn their head at Tonks not being at St. Murgo's with the other Aurors, not even the Magical Law Enforcement department.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had stayed a little bit longer after that. Turning in only three hours ago. Fred and George departing for a room upstairs a little later. Now, it was basically just her, Ron and Ginny left now. Or well, it was her and two sleeping red-heads.

The siblings were currently slouched over, using each others' bodies to stay propped up while they slept away. It was quite funny watching them together. Even without the glaringly obvious physical similarities, the two acted like they were siblings; jerking in their sleep in the same way, twitching their nose and snorting halfway awake, then murmuring back to sleep.

It was outright adorable, and the two would probably kill her if she ever brought it up.

And right on cue, brother and sister snorted, jerking forward, this time looking around blearily in confusion.

"S-wah?"

"Wazup?"

"Nothing you guys, go back to sleep."

Nodding back, they were slumped over again in a manner of seconds.

She decided that she might as well get up at that point too, and stretch her legs a bit, maybe get a bite to eat. The rest of the house, like the sitting room, had cleared out. It was effectively a ghost town now, empty and dark. She could hear the creaking of the old foundation, and the soft ticks of the grandfather clock upstairs and little else.

It always felt kind of creepy walking through the home during the night. The judgmental portraits on the wall that watched her progress didn't help either. Luckily, the kitchen wasn't far away, and even better, there were some scraps of leftovers in the fridge to make a decent enough sandwich. Her stomach gurgled happily as she grabbed a handful each and set about making something to eat.

After she finished, she gathered her dishes and placed them in the sink, frowning when she heard a dull thud instead of the clink of porcelain. Confused, she lifted the pile up gently and set it back down. This time it made the proper noise.

"Huh."

There was another thud, and her head snapped up. It sounded like it was coming from the front of the house. Was it an Order member? Another nurse? Curious, she sent the dishes down and went to investigate.

The noise traced back to front room where a man in black robes was entering the house. His head was angled away, but she got enough of a glimpse to know who it was. Professor Snape.

Her mind froze and she backed up around the corner. She took a steadying breath, wondering what she should do. The last time she had seen Snape she was barely holding onto consciousness, a state she had been in because she had just gotten her behind handed to her in a duel. How was she supposed to face him now?

Was she supposed to apologize? She might have wanted to before, and she still felt horrified for egging him on, but it wasn't as if she had been the only one fighting. HE had done just as much instigating as her. And HE was the one who had interrupted her on the beach. Before he had come charging over she had been doing nothing but peacefully watching the lake. Technically their was an equal amount of blame to go around.

But what if he wanted to forget it all? What if he was as loathed to bring it up as she was? Maybe she should write off the other day as a weird dream, and move on.

Walking away and trying to avoid him wasn't an option. They both worked in the Order and would likely run into each other here, at Headquarters. She was also staying at the school for the summer, so bumping into him there was a probability too. And call her crazy, but she was still hoping to get his help with Fera's research, and she couldn't do that if she couldn't even talk to the man.

There was nothing for it. She would have to go in there.

Ok Hermione, she mentally rallied herself, you're just going to have to do it. Just go in there! Rip the band-aid off and suck it up! She slipped inside, before she could convince herself otherwise and hovered by the doorway.

Snape was slowly making his way to the nearest armchair, gripping the armrest and falling into it with a sigh. The sight he made, relaxing peacefully in the dark was both fascinating and disconcerting. With just the moonlight peaking through the window, his clothes seemed to become blacker and his skin, so pale already, faintly glowed. His calm stillness only added to the supernatural aura that surrounded him, and in that moment, she could believe those rumors of him being a vampire. She was almost loathe to disturb him.

"Professor?" She found herself saying into the silence.

His head came slowly up, one eye crept open and he calmly looked at her, and then dropped his head again. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, bringing a bemused grin to her lips.

Hermione stepped fully into the room, taking a seat across from him. Surprisingly, Snape didn't move from his spot, curse at her or bolt from the room. He was like a sleeping dragon, dangerous and still very much a dragon, but content enough that he just couldn't be bothered to eat you.

Maybe fate was smiling on her.

"Granger, why were you lurking in the shadows like a night wraith?" His words were slower and slightly slurred. Suddenly the pieces clicked together.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, astonished.

He grunted, slumping further into his chair. Not a confirmation, but it wasn't an outright denial either. He didn't seem like the kind of man to lose himself in a bottle. Sputtering drunkards hardly made good spies. Something had to have happened to drive him to it. Maybe Voldemort wasn't pleased with the outcome of today's ambush. Sure chaos was created and people were killed, but in the end Yaxley and his men had failed to capture Harry.

The thought worried her, enough that she had to ask.

"Are you ok, sir? Are you hurt?"

He waved his hand at her. "Please, spare me your bleeding heart antics. You Gryffindors are all alike, completely unbearable, the lot of you."

"Not insufferable?" She couldn't help but add, biting her lip to stop the smile.

Snape's eyes narrowed at her. "Extremely so, actually."

"I'll try to take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

She chuckled softly. She enjoyed this version of Snape. He was still highly snarky, and biting but he was also amusing, and that took the sting out of his insults. Sure, she might have felt a touch guilty about pushing her presence on him in his less than coherent state, but she couldn't find it in herself to walk away yet. She was having too much fun.

Fun? Who in their right mind would equate Snape with fun? she asked herself, perplexed. Harry and Ron would be horrified to learn she actually enjoyed the Potions Professor's company, but in a way she did. Not in a classroom setting of course, he was ghastly in that respect, but outside the classroom, when it was just them, he wasn't that bad. Not counting the lake incident (she had decided to strike that event from her memory for the time being), their private talks had been half way decent, if she thought about it.

He had made a joke (a slightly cruel one at the expense of others) when she made her big return to Hogwarts. He was probably unaware of it, but the unexpected, funny comment had done a lot to ease her anxiety then. Even the verbal volleyball they had gotten into after had done its job in taking her mind off of the other students and getting her focused on the task.

Then he had given her some solid advice on adapting back to school life, and, she realized, he had teased her back then too, had even laughed in her presence. He had teased/joked with her on other occasions, when he had grabbed her in hall, and while she was taking the test (alright, that had had a heavy amount of mocking in it, but she was counting it anyway).

And he may not have ever done it graciously, but he had allowed her to argue with him. On a couple of occasions he had even explained things to her, with more patience than he had ever shown in the classroom. Most of all, he had saved her life not just once but several times.

So what did this mean? That they were friends? No, she shook that thought from her head. She wouldn't consider them friends yet, but they were something. Almost Acquaintances maybe, with the potential to be friends? That sounded a bit more like it. Now the question was, did she want them to be friends? She wanted to work with him, but did she actually want to go so far as to extend the olive branch of friendship?

He was a very serious man, with a strict manner about him. He could be cruel, and his sarcasm was so sharp it could make you bleed. And if what she heard was correct, then he had once been a true Death Eater and not just a spy. BUT...he could be funny sometimes, and thoughtful in his own way (it was a very special brand of barely-there thoughtful), he was also extremely intelligent, a true scholar (she had seen the books in his office), he was honorable, and he was brave. Above all, she wouldn't deny that the man was incredibly brave.

These were mostly surface observations, of course. She didn't really know the man, but did she want to?

The answer was surprisingly a resounding yes.

Huh, go figure. Guess that answered that. She would try to form a friendship with him. Not just because she wanted his help, but because she actually wanted to be considered his friend.

"What do you doing here, Granger?!"

His question snapped her out of her head, and she turned towards him, startled. Oh, right, she had been having a conversation with him. Great, not even ten seconds into her decisions to make friends and she was already ignoring him.

"I was in the kitchen when I heard a noise and came to investigate," she replied. "I saw it was just you and wanted to know if you were alright."

"I do not need your concern," he sneered.

"I know, but I can't help what I worry about," she said defensively.

Snape huffed, looking away. "Don't you have something else to do beside irritate me?"

"Not really." She smirked at his scowl. "I was sitting with Harry before I got up to stretch."

"Stop talking," he groaned, rubbing at his temples.

She did as he asked, letting a comfortable silence settle between them. His eye peaked open again.

"Why are you still here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I'm just distracting myself from thinking about today."

"Can you not do that with your little friends?"

"They're currently asleep, so no."

"Then talk to the wall," he hissed, and grabbed at his head.

"Do you have a headache? I can get something for you."

"I don't want to eat anymore of your damn broccoli, Granger," he groused, tilting his head back.

She blushed, she was still embarrassed that she had sent him that. It had been so audacious of her, but well, she had been so thankful for his advice and for getting her out of the book, that she had wanted to do something for him in return.

Then his words caught her attention. "You actually ate it?" she asked, dumbfounded. She was sure he would have thrown it in the trash the minute he saw it.

"The House Elves would have felt slighted and I didn't want to be served gruel for breakfast again," he grumbled.

Ah, so it was for the House Elves. Makes sense, I guess. Even still, she couldn't stop the small smile on her lips.

A thought occurred to her, that this was the perfect opportunity to ask for his help. Right now he was less grouchy, more open, and the friendliest she had ever seen him—what better time to ask him for his help?

"Actually, can I ask you a question?"

"I'm not interested."

"At least hear me out," she pleaded.

"No."

"Please? It won't take a minute of your time."

"Fine, you can have your minute."

She smiled at him brightly and he flinched away. "Really?"

He took out a stop watch and clicked it open. "Fifty-six seconds…"

Her jaw dropped. "You're really going to time me?"

"Fifty-three."

"Ok! Ok! I need your help with Fera's research!" she practically shouted at him.

Snape stopped counting, and arched a brow at her.

"I know it seems a little out of the blue, but I've put a lot of thought into this. There's a lot of potion work involved that's quite frankly beyond my level of understanding—don't say it!—and I need a master's input. Not only are you one of the best potions masters in your field—"

"You can skip on the brown nosing, Granger, I don't need it."

"I'm not kissing up, I'm stating a fact. You're currently ranked as one of Britain's best potioneers. Even better, you're already an Order member, so I don't have to bring you up to date on the situation. You already know what I'm doing, you know where the Soul Book is, you've met Fera and she's approved of your participation. You're the best choice in partners."

He eyed her speculatively. "Why would I consider doing this? I have enough on my plate as it is. Why should I add more?"

"The quicker we can complete the stone, the quicker we can bring this war to an end. It's in your best interest to help me get it done," she argued.

He grunted non-commiftedly.

"Besides," she hedged, hoping to appeal to his inner scholar, "don't you want to know more about Fera's research? Her work that can literally change the Wizarding World as we know it? When I asked for your help, I meant as a full partner, with complete access to all of her notes."

Snape turned his head to stare at the wall in thought. After a heavy minute of silence, he finally said, "You despise me and I can barely tolerate you."

"I think we can both work in a professional manner if nothing else, especially with what is at stake. And I don't despise you," she tacked on grumpily. What did he mean he could barely tolerate her?

"Fine. We will run a a trial period of one day—

"Make it two weeks at least. We should allow for enough time to get used to each other's working habits."

"One week," he relented, "and at the end of the week we'll see if we still find the arrangement agreeable. I expect to see all prior research before hand. You will not dangle the proverbial carrot in front of me to garner my compliance."

"Agreed. Are you free tomorrow?"

"In the afternoon. 4 o'clock."

"Good, that gives me enough time to talk to the Headmaster and check up on Harry."

"Fine."

He stalked away without a goodbye, leaving her to stare after him.

She let out pent up breath, sinking into her chair. She had done it. She had actually done it! She was finally closer to her goal, she could practically smell the success around the corner.

She got up, and practically floated to her room upstairs. She needed to look over all of her notes, organize them into something that was half-way coherent. Maybe, she should go back to Hogwarts. There had been a few books that looked useful. Hmm...she also had to go through Fera's journals, figure out which part she wanted to discuss with Snape first. Actually, that was a very good question; where should they start?

"I should make a list..." She murmured, her mind a million miles away already.

A/N: As always review please~