o0o

Hermione entered the Ancient Runes classroom with her wand tucked discreetly into the waistband of her skirt. If the Ministry would hire Snape to teach them Defence, then it was anyone's guess who they'd got to replace Professor Cyphre. Her ghostly watchers settled themselves into the walls and waited.

The classroom had been redecorated, or rather, refurnished. New bookshelves lined the room, and Hermione's heart beat faster in spite of herself at the titles. Hermann's Cryptographica–a four hundred year old first edition, by the look of it- Agrippa on metallurgy, and –it couldn't be- Hellspont's NovumSymbolum?

Of its own accord, her hand reached out to stroke the spine of the ancient tome.

"My, my. Such an eager pupil."

Hermione spun around and found herself staring into the cold grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.

She was unable to suppress a gasp of shock, but Hermione was inwardly kicking herself. Of course it was Lucius Malfoy. Who else would have been so hard up for Ministry favour as to accept this position?

Finally, she found her voice. "Mister Malfoy," she said, infusing the name with as much distaste as she could muster. "I thought the Ministry banned you from education after the Chamber of Secrets debacle."

"Professor Malfoy," he corrected blithely, seemingly unaware of the baleful look Hermione was giving him. "I see that you've already found the prize of my collection. Pray tell, have you encountered this volume before?"

"I haven't, as I'm sure you're well aware," said Hermione. "The only other known copy is in a private collection in Istanbul, and nobody is allowed to read it."

"Of course nobody is allowed to read it," said Malfoy with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That copy is falling apart and nearly illegible. To breathe on it would be to reduce it to dust."

"How is it that your copy is in such good condition?"

"My dear, Malfoys invented Preservation Charms."

Hermione remained silent, torn between making a tart comment about his unusually youthful appearance and getting her hands on that book.

"I'm certain you'll agree that one should experience such a thing in the flesh, rather than go by second-hand accounts," said Malfoy silkily, moving up behind Hermione in a most unprofessorial way and sliding the book from the shelf. He was so close to the back of her head that he missed the calculating look that flashed across Hermione's face.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor Malfoy," she said, frowning as if in confusion. "Do you mean to say that the scholars of the ages cannot be trusted with regard to the book's content?"

Lucius gently opened the book on a desk and gestured for her to sit. When she settled into the seat, he bent down so that his chin was nearly resting on her shoulder. Several strands of silky hair brushed her cheek. The warm breath of his whisper brushed the tip of her ear. "With so few pairs of eyes privileged enough to encounter the source material, would it not surprise you to find that some aspects of the text may have been overlooked?"

Oh, he was good. Hermione began to understand just how Malfoy had been able to avoid multiple life sentences in Azkaban.

"You mean," said Hermione, punctuating her statement with an artful gasp, "that you would allow me to study this in your class?"

His self-satisfied smirk further steeled her resolve. "I mean to say that first-hand experience can give you insight that you never would have imagined. Would such a thing interest you?"

Hermione nodded, somehow feeling that she was making a deal with the devil.

"They always said you were a smart girl," said Lucius, resting a hand on her shoulder for a moment. "Now, your work. I understand that since this class consists of only your lovely self, you are to work on an advanced project of some sort. Tell me, Miss Granger. Where precisely do your interests lie?"

Hermione blinked in surprise at the compliment, then lowered her eyelids. "If you please, sir," she said, allowing her eyes to shine hungrily at the books. "There are several subjects I'd like to research more thoroughly before deciding on a final project."

"Very well, select and summarise at least five books for your next class. We'll discuss your research then. I trust you'll understand why I cannot allow you to remove several of the older works from this room?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He preened at her respectful address, and she covered a smile with her hand. This vain peacock was going to be a piece of cake. She slowly walked the perimeter of the room, being careful not to select any particularly rare or old volumes, aware that he was watching her progress carefully.

When she was finished, she placed the precipitous pile on his desk for his approval.

He examined each, noting the condition and subject and marked them in a heavy ledger.

"These ought to keep you busy over the weekend, Miss Granger," he said. "Though I wonder at so many volumes on dealing with fear and anxiety. One might inquire what it is that you have to be anxious about."

"I should think that you of all people would understand that I have enemies, sir."

Lucius crossed his legs and ran his fingers delicately over the shining serpent on the head of his cane. "Surely you don't mean me? I'm a little lamb, I assure you."

"More comments of that sort will make me cry 'bah,'" retorted Hermione, gathering her books. "I hope you'll excuse me. As you can see, I have quite a bit of reading to do."

"So eager," he murmured, eyes drifting lazily from her head to her feet and back again. He smiled suddenly. "If, this weekend, you happen to find yourself perplexed by the reading, or, dare I say, anxious, I hope you will call on me in my chambers. Undoubtedly, this is a trying time for you. I would consider it a privilege to help ease your mind. As a teacher, naturally."

Not wanting to clue him in to the plan coalescing in her mind, she looked up at him quizzically. "Won't you be going home for the weekend?"

"Gracious, no, the old place is so empty these days, and I've already moved my best books here." He gave her a meaningful look. "I'm staying in the uppermost tower. The stars at night are quite stunning. I hope to see you soon, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor Malfoy. I appreciate your time and attention." With a brisk hip swivel, she strode out of the classroom.

She grinned at his appreciative chuckle.

o0o

She was surprised to find Harry already in the armoury when she arrived. He was looking out the window over the countryside with a look of longing on his face.

She set her armload of books down on the table and walked over to where he stood. He didn't start when she drew near but made room for her at the sill.

"Penny for your thoughts," she offered.

"Nothing," he said, cheeks flushing.

"Come on, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I just miss it. Being out there. Doing what I want to do. Doing important things. Being an adult and being treated like an adult. We kill Voldemort and it's back to school for the good children. All of this is complete bollocks, and everyone knows it."

She felt a rush of fondness and squeezed his hand. "I understand. And that's why we're doing this. We're beating the Ministry at its own game. Once we've all been hired in our desired fields we can do important things and influence important decisions. But in order to have influence at the Ministry, we need to do well on our N.E.W.T.s. And before we can sit the N.E.W.T.s-"

"-We have to complete a Ministry-approved curriculum," mimicked Harry in Professor Tofty's reedy tenor. "Unless he can't find anyone to teach us." Harry fell silent for a moment, then turned to her. "Hermione, you know I'm in awe of your brains, but what makes you so certain that Tofty will let us sit the N.E.W.T.s if we scare off all the teachers?"

"You saw him during our Astronomy O.W.L when Professor McGonagall was attacked," said Hermione. "His loyalties are with us. It's his superiors that need convincing, and the only way to do that is, sadly, to make him unable to prepare us using a Ministry-approved curriculum." She gave him a sidelong look. "Why is it that you're only asking now?"

Harry gave her a look of pure mischief. "It sounded like too much fun to say no."

Hermione laughed long and hard, and Harry joined her.

"So," she said, mouth still quivering in mirth, "suppose you tell me why you wanted to talk to me before tonight's planning and revision session."

Harry's smile faded. "It's about Snape. I know something that may help us get rid of him, but I don't exactly feel comfortable telling everyone about it."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Can you tell me?"

"Will you promise to use the information only to plot against Snape and not to tell anyone else?"

"I promise. Now, what's so secret that you can't even tell Ron?"

"It's about my dad. And Sirius."

She frowned. "I thought it was about Snape."

"I'm getting there, Hermione. Do you remember when Fred and George shoved Montague into that Vanishing Cabinet our fifth year?"

She closed her eyes. "How could I forget?"

"Well, the night he reappeared, Snape was about to start an Occlumency lesson with me. Right before every lesson, he moved some memories from his head into a Pensieve. Well, right after he'd done that, Malfoy came and told him about Montague, and he left. I thought- well, I hoped the memory might be something about the Department of Mysteries, so I looked."

"You saw your dad and Sirius?"

"Well, yeah. And Lupin and Pettigrew. And they were-" he swallowed hard, "-bullying Snape. Four against one. They called him 'Snivellus' and attacked him just because they didn't have anything better to do."

"Perhaps you'd better start at the beginning."

The memory was as fresh in his mind as if he'd seen it yesterday. As Harry continued his story, Hermione found herself taking mental notes and shaking her head at the Marauders' bullying. She gasped at Snape's cruel reaction to Lily's interference and her apparent antipathy toward James.

"Then my dad said he was going to remove Snape's underpants."

Hermione gasped. "Did he?"

"I don't know. That's when Snape found me and dragged me out of the Pensieve. He yelled and threw things and refused to teach me Occlumency after that."

"So he didn't stop teaching you because you'd got the basics!"

A small, exasperated smile lifted the corner of Harry's mouth. "Didn't you already know that from what happened at the Department of Mysteries?"

"I just thought you weren't as good at Occlumency as Voldemort is at Legilimency. I didn't blame you. At least, not until now." She gasped, suddenly realising what she'd said. "Oh, Harry, I didn't mean that. You couldn't have known-"

"Shut up, Hermione. S'okay," said Harry. "The point is that Snape had rotten things done to him, and I don't think it'd be fair to use those sorts of things against him, at least not overtly."

Hermione looked at her friend with a measuring gaze. "You're a good man, Harry Potter. I promise not to use what you've told me against him or do anything like Sirius did. Except for one thing."

"What?"

"Professor Snape always hated you because you reminded him of your father, right?"

"Right."

"And you agree that it's his own stupid prejudice that you can't do anything about, right?"

Harry started to look interested. "Right."

"Then don't you think it'd be fair if you happened to remind him of your dad a bit more? Like messing with your hair or showing off in front of Hannah, Susan, and me? I might even be able to charm something to look and act like a Snitch."

Harry stared at her for a moment and burst out laughing. "Dunno if I can keep a straight face, but I'll give it a shot, Hermione. I'll give it a shot. I'd better go explain things to Ron beforehand, though. I think he's still sworn to beat anybody who makes light of you."

Hermione made a face. "He's a chivalrous pillock."

"Yes," agreed Harry, helping her gather her books, "but he's our chivalrous pillock."

o0o