Thank you all so much for your reviews, and sticking with me.

I want to thank Septentrion for the clue to the Ashwinder story referred to in the previous chapter. It is Ubiquirk's "If He Were a Better Man."

Thanks again to 'gentle reader' Brownesugar.

I am looking for a beta that has had success in being accepted onto Ashwinder.

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Twenty – four hours later, Severus was down in his lab writing out possibilities for reversing the effects of "the weapon." He was unaware that he had been staring at the parchment for quite some time, his mind drifting from one scene with Hermione to another; consequently, the painful burning in his arm jarred him back to reality. He tried to clear his mind and went upstairs, retrieving his robe and mask. Then he apparated, leaving with a cracking pop that rang through the empty house.

"Master," Snape said, kneeling. Even with head bowed, he could see peripherally that many of his "brethren" were present.

"Severus, rise. I have good news." Voldemort said, standing in triumphant energy. "There was a … skirmish, shall we say." Riddle clapped his hands together, showing obvious excitement for the story to come. "An auror was ambushed by our soldiers." The Snake waved his hand toward a kneeling threesome.

"Bravi." Voldemort clapped toward the proud cluster, encouraging the crowd to join him. Then he turned, saying, "And bravo to you, Severus Snape, for a job well done." Riddle clapped very loudly, the Death Eaters joining him, "Well done, indeed."

Riddle grandly opened his arms to address his audience, an air of supremacy growing with every declaration. "They now know the power my Dark Army wields; the terrorist tactics have worked. We will soon be attacking simultaneously with many cells. They will be on the defensive, scurrying away like the mice they are. Then we will finish them, thus ushering in my victorious reign."

With loud voices, the crowd called out, "Yes Master." "Victory." Finally, one yelled with wand raised, his voice booming over the throng, "To the Dark Lord!" All joined in, pointed their wands in the air and cried, "To the Dark Lord!"

Voldemort welcomed the praise grandly, and then, with false humility, quieted them at the arch of the applause. "Loyal ones, you may now depart, but be ready for battle when next called." Then, looking down, he said, "Severus, you stay." There was a general war cry, and the pops of apparation began.

Riddle watched as they departed, soaking up the last dregs of praise. Clasping his hands and sighing, he turned, and sat on his throne. Silence surrounded the two, but Voldemort's voice disrupted it, and he spoke quickly, "Severus, what are you working on now?"

"Master, I am stocking up on healing supplies for our men, and … I am also considering looking at a cure for 'the weapon' based on my own recovery." Severus said this knowing that often the blatant truth had served him well in the past.

"Why … would you do this?" There was irritation in the Snakes voice.

"There could be an accident among the brethren."

"Hmmm … let me think on this before you proceed."

"As you wish, My Lord."

"You may leave, Severus." Riddle waved his hand absently, ready to retreat into his thoughts and relive his victory speech.

"My Lord." Snape said bowing, burying a sense of relief at the quick release. But just before he apparated he heard, "Oh, Severus, how is your woman?"

Severus turned and bowed, "Actually, she's slightly under the weather, My Lord."

"Hmm … too bad," Voldemort said with odd neutrality. Then his voice brightened, "Bring her to me when she is well."

"Yes, My Lord." With that Snape apparated away to Spinner's End.

This had been the first meeting since making his choice. He had chosen to fight for Hermione and all for which she stood.

'The auror,' he thought. 'Surely Hermione will hear of them and have to reveal the cure and what she has done.' Severus sank into a chair, folding in on himself while his head fell into his hands. After a few moments, he sat back, took a cleansing breath, and considered his next move.

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Hermione looked at Poppy, dumbfounded by her direct question. Then in a defiant boldness she said, "Snape."

Poppy's facial features froze. She had seen and heard many shocking things in her life, but this was one of the most amazing. "Why?" came out in a robotic tone.

"How did you know?" Hermione countered.

"You've been leaking." The nurse said, while getting her bearings.

Hermione looked down and registered the feeling of pads in her bra.

"Oh."

"Hermione, why?" Poppy reiterated.

"His life depended on it," the girl said factually.

Poppy's brows knit together in unguarded surprise. Hermione construed this as disbelief and then considered her own last few statements. "I need to start at the beginning."

Over the next two hours, Hermione told Poppy everything that happened from the moment she arrived at Spinner's End. Poppy watched in astonishment as Hermione would shake at some points, then vomit or anger savagely at others. It was as if every emotion and body memory the girl had once held carefully in check emerged with the telling of the tale.

"…Then I woke up, and there was this beautifully set table and breakfast. I got up with such hope; you know…that we could get past this. He had made fresh squeezed orange juice. It was nice and cold, and I drank it in one gulp." She began to cry. "That's the last thing I remember until I woke up here." Silence rested between them as they both looked out the windows. Then Hermione turned, "Poppy, what did his note say?"

The nurse looked at her with a nod, got up, and retrieved the jar and note.

Poppy,

You will find Miss Granger generally unharmed. I am sure you will figure out an aspect of her condition that must be given the utmost discretion. In that same vein, there are certain marks that this salve will erase.

SS

"I examined you all over and could only find the stretch marks on your breasts and, of course, the leaking."

Hermione took the jar, opened her pajama top, and ran a dab of cream down one mark … it disappeared. At first, she was happy, and then she remembered him running his finger over them… She looked down at the note "…erase…ERASE?" She began to seethe. Then, with a sudden heave, she threw the jar across the room, smashing it to pieces. "He wants me to make it like it never happened. If he wants to erase his memory, fine. He can try. But for good or for bad, it did happen, and no cream can change it." She began to sob uncontrollably.

Poppy had listened to her story with rapt attention. She had deduced that Hermione was in love with Severus and, by all accounts, he with her. She was formulating what to say when she saw Minerva's face in the flames. Poppy got up, pulling the partition.

"Poppy?" Hermione could hear a distressed Headmistress's voice.

"Yes, Minerva."

"Come through now, quickly."

Hermione heard Poppy enter the flames, and then, in what seemed like only minutes, she was back.

She opened the partition. "It's Shacklebolt. He's been hit with that patch."

She hesitated. "Hermione, I hate to ask you…"

With a disappointed face at the inevitable, Hermione got up to go.

"No, no… just use a breast pump." The nurse said this while picking up a water carafe and transforming it. Poppy showed her quickly how to use the apparatus. "I have the pain potion and bezoar. Is that right?"

Hermione nodded with her head down, watching the milk enter the bottles.

Poppy looked at her, "I am not going to make you do this the whole time. It's just to get him settled."

Hermione slouched, defeated, "But this is the only way."

"No, it's not. St. Mungo's has a breast milk bank," the nurse began to explain with excited assurance. "It's to help mother's who can't or don't want to breastfeed, but still want their children to have the immune system benefits."

"Really?" Hermione said with disbelief.

"Young lady, you have been traumatized enough. You need to get back to normal, especially before you see anyone," Poppy said, returning to her "in charge" persona.

"So, no one else knows I'm here?"

"No."

Hermione brightened and was gratified that she had pumped enough to give Poppy sufficient time to retrieve the milk from the milk bank.

Poppy took the bottles, transforming them slightly so they were not so obvious, and was off. She came back an hour later. "He is resting at Number 12," Poppy said while talking over her shoulder as she restocked for the next trip. "Minerva looked at me questioningly but didn't say anything. Of course, she didn't know what it was, but she seems to have instincts about these things." Turning towards Hermione and smoothing down the skirt of her uniform, Poppy asked, "Are you doing OK?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, I need to go to St. Mungo's." With that, Poppy cast a Disillusionment charm and "Do Not Notice" spell on herself and left through the floo.

Poppy Pomfrey arrived back an hour or so later with quite the satisfied look. "Like taking milk from a baby," she said and smiled riley while enlarging three-dozen bottles. She immediately transformed the bottles to be less noticeable and put a Stasis spell on them.

She then took one bottle with the other supplies and, giving Hermione a wink, threw some floo powder into the fire. "Grimmauld Place," she said stepping into the flames.

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Later that night, Voldemort was getting reports from different spies among the ranks.

"Smythe, step forward."

Kneeling, Smythe said, "My Lord."

"Do you have anything to report? Anything about the auror?" The Snake leaned forward almost salivating.

"No, Sire, nothing." Smythe's voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

"He was not brought in?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"No, My Lord." There was no hiding Smythe's shaking now.

"He must be at one of the Order's own safe houses." Voldemort said thoughtfully to himself, "All the better."

"Anything else, Smythe? Even the smallest thing could be pertinent ... Oh, don't be scared," Riddle said with a patronizing tone. "I've only 'disciplined' you a few times."

"Yes, my Lord." He took a shaky breath. "The gossip continues regarding the administration's growing fear of the impending war and their position."

"Good. Do you have more?"

"Nothing, My Lord," Smythe was feeling very uncomfortable, "just silly gossip."

"I will be the judge of that, Smythe," Voldemort said with irritated authority, his wand tapping between his fingers. Then, bringing his hissing voice low, he said, "Humor me."

Smythe's mouth was dry, and he could barely get out his words as he said, "Some of the older nurses were complaining that the breast milk bank numbers were off."

Voldemort froze.

Smythe continued, "They said the count was off by almost 3 dozen or more bottles. They were irritated and thought some of the newer nurses hadn't been documenting correctly. I am sorry My Lord, I have no more."

Distractedly Voldemort barked, "You are dismissed."

Smythe did not try to move his shaking legs but, instead, just apparated immediately.

"Everyone leave me," the Snake hissed. "NOW!"

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There are breast milk banks in many areas.

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