Her knees hit the cold, paved ground with a thud. It was so dark someone might have scattered Fred and George's Peruvian Instant Darkness powder... yet she was certain she had just travelled by Portkey. Heart pounding, her knees bruised, she picked herself up off the ground and dusted her robes. A sweet smell of damp grass met her nose, and an odd, deathly silence hung in the air. Apart from the moon, the only visible light was from a row of bright orange specks on a dark hillside in the distance, meaning the nearest main road was several miles away. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see that she was standing on a weed-strewn stone path, winding through what looked like a very overgrown cemetery. Over the long grass she could make out the tops of several tombstones lying at odd angles, almost as though they had been kicked. To her right, Hermione saw a statue of an angel knelt in prayer, whose weathered stone face barely peered out of the ivy that was creeping around it. Glancing further down the path, she noticed a building looming some yards away... a church. It looked gothic in design, and was obviously abandoned - it's roof was damaged,several stained-glass windows were smashed in, and a thick padlocked chain hung around the giant heavy oak doors. Hermione shivered and pulled her robes tighter around her body. Despite it being a late August night, her breath rose as mist in front of her. Her mind was racing. Where was she? Why was she here? Who planted that Portkey? And what -
Hermione paused suddenly, and listened carefully. She was certain she'd just heard the soft swish of a cloak... she wasn't alone. She turned to face the source of the noise - the old church. Someone was there. A tall cloaked, hooded figure had emerged by the church doors, and was beckoning her towards him. Hermione felt the crumpled note in her pocket. Images of Voldemort's snake-like face and Bellatrix Lestrange smirking flashed in her mind. A sense of reckless daring surged within her. Gripping her wand tightly, she strode down the path towards the stranger, brambles snagging her robes as she went. She was a few paces away when the figure turned and swept down a narrow broken side-path. Evidently she was to follow. She traced the stranger's steps in silence as he led her around the edge of the building to a small wooden door at the churches rear. Without a word or glance, the figure pushed the door and entered. Hermione took a deep breath and did the same. It was darker inside the church than outside, but by the dim moonlight that filtered through the open door, she could see a rotting wooden staircase to her right, and a landing above her head. The stranger, Hermione noticed, pulled his hood closer around his face and climbed the stairs; his pace quickening with every step. As he reached the top step, he flung his right arm backwards. A thin jet of gold light shot past her ear, and the wooden door snapped shut behind her. Hermione felt her breathing grow more rapid. 'I'm not trapped', she thought desparately, 'I can always disapparate'. She found herself longing for the warm party atmosphere of the Burrow. She climbed the creaking stairway, and saw the hooded man ahead enter a room, from which there came a dim red glow. Hermione edged tentatively into the room, where the stranger stood with his back to her muttering, lighting candles on a wrought-iron stand with his wand. The room he had led her into was a low-ceilinged circular room with crimson-painted walls. Looking around, she got the impression that this room was where the stranger actually lived. To the left stood a wide fireplace in which embers were still smouldering. Either side were two worn and frayed cushioned sofas. A low table standing between them was strewn with rolls of parchment, ink, and quills. On a taller, narrow side-table, five or six empty green wine bottles glistened in the candlelight. A neatly made bed lay at the far end of the room, next to which was stood a small tower of thick leather-bound books. Hermione could stand her curiosity no longer. "Who are you?" she asked as forcefully as she could muster to the stranger's back. The hooded man lit the last candle, placed his wand on the table next to him, and turned around slowly, removing his hood as he did so. Hermione gasped as her eyes met his... for there, gaunter and paler than ever, stood Severus Snape.
'No', mouthed Hermione soundlessly, shaking her head. She flung back round to the open doorway which slammed shut and locked as she leapt towards it. "LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU... YOU MURDERER!" she screamed, pounding furiously at the door. She whipped her wand out of her pocket only for it to disappear - Snape had moved behind her and had snatched it from her hand. "HOW COULD YOU KILL HIM?" she shrieked as he grabbed her wrist and went to cover her mouth. Wandless and desparate, she lashed out with her free left hand, hitting him hard on his jaw. Snape cursed and put his hands to his mouth, letting her go. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON OUR SIDE", she screamed at him, "I EVEN DEFENDED YOU, YOU FUCKING EVIL BASTARD!" Snape glared dangerously at her.
"SHUT UP, YOU STUPID GIRL!" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage. Before Hermione could respond, Snape grasped both her wrists and shoved her backwards, pinning her firmly against the wall. His tall dark frame towered over her as blood trickled from his lip and dripped onto her cloak. "I suggest Miss Granger, you hear me out before making such wild accusations or dishing out any more attacks", he hissed in her ear, his hooked nose barely an inch from her own. "Now whatever you, or Potter, or those fucking retards at the Ministry think of me, I remain loyal to Dumbledore... now what I want you to do is sit over there", he began in a softer tone, jerking his head towards the sofas, "and listen to what I have to say. I know that you yourself are in a very... vulnerable position. Will you do that?" he asked calmly. "I have no intention of hurting you Miss Granger", he added silkily. "You may even have your wand back." Hermione, shaken and confused, nodded. Snape released his grip, and stepping back, gestured towards the sofas by the fireplace. Rubbing her wrists where his hands had been, Hermione obeyed and sat down. Snape followed, wiping his bloody lip as he went. He handed her back her wand, and positioned himself opposite her, his own wand still lying on the table. She took the opportunity to study his appearance properly... he was vastly different from the man she knew mere months ago. He looked as if he hadn't eaten anything in weeks; his torn, creased black robes hung loosely from his body. His hair was as greasy as ever, and he evidently hadn't shaved for days. She felt no sympathy for him though. In fact, she was half-tempted to give him a taste of his own Sectumsempra curse then flee, but she needed to hear what he had to say. He was, after all, the second most wanted man in the wizarding world.
"Go on then", she spat, "how do you justify what you did?"
"I did what I did, Miss Granger, on Dumbledore's orders."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"You're a liar. Dumbledore would never - "
"Then allow me to explain", snapped Snape impatiently, "and no interruptions if you please, Miss Granger." Hermione scowled and sat further back in the sofa, still keeping a firm grip on her wand. Snape surveyed her for a moment through his curtains of greasy black hair. "You know of course that the Dark Lord wanted... wanted Dumbledore dead... and that he wanted Draco Malfoy to do it. Well... Draco's mother, accompanied by Mrs Lestrange (whom I know you have met recently), paid me a visit... a year ago this night in fact... to request that I protect Draco. You see, the Dark Lord fully expected him to fail in his task and planned to kill him when he did. The Dark Lord's vengeance for Malfoy Senior's misdemeanours, I am told. Of course I vowed to do it. However, my word was not enough for Mrs Malfoy. She requested that I make the Unbreakable Vow. I agreed, for if I hadn't, my true allegiance surely would have been realised. I vowed to protect Draco and guide him through his task. Although I hadn't counted on Draco's mother's final request - that if he fail, I complete the task for him."
"And you agreed to this?" asked Hermione in a hollow voice.
"I had no choice!" he stormed."The Vow's charm had already been cast. The moment I made that Vow, I thought I had sealed my own death, for I had no intention of... committing such a deed..." He paused here a few moments, staring hard at the floor, brow furrowed, seemingly lost in thought. The tiniest ounce of pity begn to mingle with her feelings of hatred towards him. If what he was telling her was true... "I informed Dumbledore of the Dark Lord's latest plan, and of the Vow I had made with Draco's mother."
"Why did you tell him of the Vow if you didn't intend to keep it?" Snape stared at her, although strangely he did not appear angered by her latest outburst. He smoothed some stray strands of hair out of his face, and rubbed his forehead. This conversation was clearly difficult for him.
"Because I promised Dumbledore long ago that I would tell him everything, and keep no secrets... a non-magical vow that I have honoured for seventeen years. Besides... he would have known if I was concealing anything. It was better in the open. That way we could both prepare for... the breaking of the Vow. But he would have none of it." Snape's voice wavered slightly. Despite his impassive expression, his tone became increasingly bitter. "He said it was more important that Draco succeed so he was safe from the Dark Lord's wrath... and my role as spy for the Order was too important to lose. I argued of course. I insisted it would be far more disastrous for the Order to lose their leader, and that Draco and his mother could be hidden. But he wouldn't listen." Hermione fixed him with a penetrating stare. He was telling the truth, she decided. She didn't know exactly why she trusted him right now... but it made sense somehow. Dumbledore's death had obviously had a great effect on him. Surely if he had truely murdered the most powerful wizard in the world he would show signs of triumph, pride, malice. Instead she saw bitterness and uncertainty reflected in those dark eyes. He was a mere shadow of the man her Potions Master had been. Snape met her gaze, and locked eyes unflinchingly with hers. "Miss Granger", he asked, "do you believe me?"
"I do", whispered Hermione simply and sincerely. She reached forward and dropped her wand on the table next to Snape's in confirmation. She could tell he appreciated this gesture, and noticed him relax a little into his seat. "Do you regret it?" The question escaped her lips before she could stop it.
"I have always trusted Professor Dumbledore's judgment... however I think... I fear... his final one was wrong. I am still here gathering information, but I am unable to deliver it. I am no longer of use to the Order. And Draco, though alive, remains enslaved to the Dark Lord, still forced to perform tasks under threat of his parent's murder. A situation I am told, you too find yourself in." A lump caught in Hermione's throat. She had been yearning to talk about this with someone ever since her 'initiation'. "May I see it?" Snape asked bluntly. "The Mark. Show me." She nodded and unfastened her travelling cloak. Snape raised an eyebrow. "You really needn't have made such an effort, Miss Granger", he sneered. She threw him a filthy look as she stood up and moved to sit on the low table, their knees now touching. Holding out her left arm, she pushed the sleeve of her shrug cardigan to her elbow, revealing the ugly black symbol. He took her arm gently with his left hand; his touch, she noted, was surprisingly warm. He traced the outline of the Mark with his right finger and thumb, as though checking it wouldn't rub off. She breathed in sharply as he did so - it still hurt. "The soreness should disappear within a week or so", he remarked. "Has it burned since your first meeting with the Dark Lord?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. He will allow you some time yet."
"How do you know?"
"I am the Dark Lord's most trusted servant", he spoke with disgust, "he shares many of his plans with me."
"Did you know of his plan to abduct me?"
"Yes"
"So why didn't you do something?" she retorted angrily.
"And what exactly could I have done?" he bit back, letting go of her arm.
"You could have warned me somehow."
"Up until quarter of an hour ago you, along with the rest of the wizarding world, believed me to be a murderer. Can you honestly say you would have taken any message from me seriously?" He sprung up from his seat suddenly and began to pace the floor in front of the fireplace, running his fingers through his hair, looking thoroughly agitated. "Do you have ANY IDEA how FRUSTRATING a position I am in? I am forced to kill the one wizard who trusted me, I'm now a wanted murderer, more notorious even than Black ever was, I've had to abandon my home, my posessions, my job, my place in the Order, my whole life! Then to top it all I've become a figure of admiration and respect for other Death Eaters, the very people from whom I've been trying to distance myself ever since I was idiotic enough to join in the first place!!" He flung over the high table next to him in temper, sending half a dozen wine bottles crashing to the floor. Shocking though Hermione found this display, it cemented for her the fact that Snape was, undeniably, innocent. She stood, and approached his sorry form leaning on the mantle. Tentatively, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Prof - " she bit her tongue. "Severus..." her use of his first name, coupled with her touch snared his attention. "I'm sorry", she continued, "I had no idea... but honestly speaking, if you weren't in this position right now, I'd have no one to help me. I need you right now more than I need anyone." She plunged a hand into her pocket and withdrew the crumpled letter. "Will you help me? Please?" She could hear her voice beginning to tremble. He turned to face her, her eyes shining with tears, his face expressionless. Then, he placed an arm around her shoulder and guided her back to her seat on the sofa. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle, uncorking it before pouring two glasses of red wine.
"Since you are no longer my student I won't feel guilty about giving you this", he remarked, handing her one of the glasses. He settled down beside her, and took a long gulp from his glass. "You must take over my role", Snape said simply. "I will teach you all you need to know, including; and especially - "
"Occlumency", finished Hermione, sipping a mouthful of the wine.
"Exactly", said Snape, setting down his glass. "And you'd better prove more adept at it than Potter... for both our sakes."
"I'll do whatever you instruct", she replied a little nervously. This was going to prove a heavy responsibility, and her greatest challenge yet.
"Speaking of Potter", began Snape, his voice deepening, "it is imperative that he practice and improve on what I taught him during our Occlumency sessions... and he'd better master non-verbal spells soon as well. Without those skills he would stand no chance if ever he were to duel an experienced wizard. I was able to disarm him repeatedly and with ease that night... the Dark Lord, however, would be far less merciful..."
"You're right. I'll make him learn." She shifted in her seat to face him. "Prof - , I mean...", she sighed as Snape raised an eyebrow. "Has... has he told you when he will summon me?" Snape picked up his glass and downed its contents.
"You have three weeks."
"Three - three weeks?"
"Maybe less. He could summon you tonight if he so wished. But he knows you need time... and the Dark Lord is patient."
"Still, can I really master Occlumency in three short weeks?"
"You must. There is no question. I would begin by coaching you tonight, but you have already been here long enough. You don't want to arouse suspicion. We'll have to arrange regular meetings, which will be difficult as you return to Hogwarts next week." Hermione's fingers played with the fraying threads on the arm of the sofa.
"I'm not going back to Hogwarts", she admitted quietly. Snape looked surprised.
"So the school has been closed?"
"No, it will reopen Monday for those who want to go."
"So why aren't you going back Miss Granger?" he enquired leaning forwards. She deliberately avoided his eyes. Should she tell him? Harry had sworn her and Ron to secrecy. Not a single Order member knew the details of their plan. She breathed out slowly.
"Ron and I have to help Harry with something", she answered elusively.
"Ah... I see. Potter is attempting to finish Dumbledore's quest, I presume?"
"You know?" she returned his gaze unflinchingly.
"Yes I know. Dumbledore told me he was searching for the Dark Lord's remaining Horcruxes. I had to treat him for the damage caused by the one he destroyed." A look of intense concern crossed Snape's face, deepening the lines in his prematurely ageing face. "This is an extremely dangerous mision for three young wizards to undertake. I take it you will be travelling alone?"
"Yes. No one else knows what we're doing. Harry said Dumbledore implored him to keep this quiet."
"It took Dumbledore a little under a year to find two Horcruxes, one of which seriously injured him, the other... rendered him weak and defenceless..." There was silence between them as both looked at the floor. Hermione's finger circled the rim of her glass. Snape sighed. "Where is the final Horcrux Dumbledore found? Has Potter got it?" Hermione set her glass down.
"Harry's got it. But... it's a fake", she said in a strangled voice. "Inside was a note from someone who signed only as R.A.B."
"Fake..." he uttered in disbelief. "What did the note say?" Hermione racked her brains.
"It was something like... 'I will be dead long before you read this... it was I who discovered your secret... I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can' ...and then something like; 'I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.' Snape closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He was evidently thinking hard.
"R.A.B... R.A.B...of course. It could only be..."
"You know who it is?" asked Hermione, sitting upright and ceasing her fidgeting.
"It is a mere guess... but I would say that R.A.B. is none other than Black's younger brother, Regulus. He was a Death Eater... before he got cold feet."
"Sirius told us about him before. Do you really think it's him?"
"I'm almost certain. The author of that note sounded as if he knew the Dark Lord personally."
"That's what I thought", she added, "but what does the 'A' stand for?"
"I do not know. But I can think of no one else who links more closely with the information we have."
"And what of the remaining Horcruxes?" She held up her hand and began crossing off fingers. "The diary is gone, the ring is gone - "
"The locket remains", Snape continued for her, " as does the Cup and Nagini; if Dumbledore's theory is correct of course. Then there is something of Ravenclaws or Gryffindors, and finally the Dark Lord himself." Hermione knew they were both thinking the same thing. This 'quest' seemed near impossible.
"As you are, erm, trusted by V-Vol - You-Know-Who", she stammered as Snape threw her a withering look, "has he told you where any of these Horcruxes are? Or what the sixth one might be?"
"I am afraid not. But it is something I am working on. The Dark Lord isn't forthcoming with the details of his most important plan."
"I thought as much", she sighed. "Going back to what you said about regular meetings, how will we arrange them, and how often?"
"As often as we can", he responded with a hint of urgency. "When do you start this 'quest' of yours?"
"Tomorrow. We're beginning by travelling to Godric's Hollow... it was Harry's idea", she added as Snape gave her a very curious look.
"Very well", he spoke abruptly. "You must get back Miss Granger, your absence must already have been noticed. But before you go, we need to establish a means of communication."
"How?" she asked, thinking hard. Owls were too obvious, Floo powder was out of the question...
"Patroni", he responded simply. Hermione raised an eyebrow in a manner not dissimilar to Snape himself.
"Patroni can be used to carry messages then?"
"Yes. Only Order members know and use this method."
"But wouldn't people notice Patroni shooting about the place?"
"Not if you utter the incantation occulto before you cast it"
"I've cast a Patronus charm a number of times before", she said to a seemingly unimpressed Snape. "How do you send your Patronus to a certain person, and send a message with it?"
"You simply picture the person in your mind, and silently run through the message you wish to send as you cast the Patronus. That person will recieve it almost instantly, and he alone will hear its content."
"So no one can intercept it?"
"No. No one." Snape rose to his feet slowly. "I'm sure you will be able to manage it", he said. "I will contact you as soon as I know it is safe for you to return here."
"Safe?" she repeated curiously.
"You are not my only visitor, Miss Granger." Hermione knew better than to probe this answer further. His tone of voice told her that much. She, too, stood up. Snape picked up her wand and handed it to her, closing her fingers around it. "Be on your guard, Miss Granger... and don't forget what I said about Potter. Now go. You will hear from me soon." She inclined her head in understanding.
"I will. Thankyou." She threw her cloak around her shoulders. "Goodnight." Snape nodded curtly in response. Hermione turned on her heel, and Disapparated in a swish of her cloak.