A/N – This is a little shorter than the others, and I'm not quite happy about some bits so it may be edited later! Any suggestions for improvements – particularly conversations with Snape – are welcome as I was struggling a bit. Reviews make me happy, as always. Enjoy!

Disclaimer – This all belongs to JK Rowling, except my OCs.

Mistrust

Hermione asked Professor Dante about Snape's disapproval of elemental magic when they next met for a tutorial a couple of days later. The transfiguration teacher was showing Hermione how to scan another person without hurting them. Harry had volunteered for the task and Ginny was also present, sat swinging her legs on a desk at the side of the classroom. Dante was sat on a chair to Hermione's side, her hand resting at the younger woman's elbow, sensing what Hermione was doing as she supervised. After Hermione asked her question, Dante pursed her lips and frowned as she thought carefully about her reply, simultaneously helping her student to very gently figure out Harry's element.

"Elemental magic is unpredictable, I believe I told you as much last week. And if not understood, it can be very unreliable. It is more connected to your emotions than other magic, and so your state of mind can greatly influence how successful you are. There have been very few recent witches or wizards that have been able to control it, and therefore it is generally understood that nobody can. It's nonsense of course, but it's easier to deem that it cannot be used constructively than find someone to show you that it is possible. After all, it is human nature to fear things that you do not understand."

Hermione grunted as she concentrated, but Ginny spoke up from her perch. "So if the knowledge of how to control it was lost, how can you?"

"I was taught by one of the very few who still do use it, and they were something of an expert. Now it is time to pass that knowledge on to somebody equally capable, and hopefully Hermione will find it as useful as I have. Now gently Hermione, you need to concentrate but you need to do it gently. Too much and you'll heat his hand up. Think of it as lightly scanning his hand instead of probing it."

Carefully, Hermione slowly did as she asked, and soon found a pulsing thread inside Harry's hand. Again she found that it was different to her own, but this time she had longer to explore it and soon felt a cooling sensation sweep over her. As she traced the magic up through Harry's arm she became more submerged in it, until she could almost feel that she was in a damp forest. She was finding it all so much easier now, it was almost second nature to trace it throughout his body but she stopped once she reached his shoulder – it seemed a bit intrusive to carry on.

"Well done, you're really getting the hang of this," Dante praised. "Now try his other hand." When Hermione was set on her task again, Dante returned to the previous topic of conversation. "Another thing to note is that water and fire magics, for some reasons I won't go into now, are easier to control than earth or air but far less common. However, despite this I still don't know why Professor Snape is so particularly against elemental magic as it's occasional unpredictability shouldn't be an issue when a competent witch is teaching it, is he normally prejudiced against the unknown?"

Harry let out a short laugh. "A year ago I would have said he was as prejudiced as they come, but now I just think he's a grumpy old git. He normally only prejudices against specific people, for things they've done to him in the past. Have you given any reason to mistrust you? It can't be from when you were at Hogwarts together – you're too young to have been here at the same time."

"I appreciate the thought Harry, but I'm older than I appear. However, you're right in thinking that we weren't at Hogwarts together. I don't know why he may have taken a dislike to me, but it doesn't matter much provided we can work together, something we have achieved until this point."

Dante was not completely honest with this answer. She could think of a pretty good reason why Severus Snape didn't trust her, even if he wasn't aware of it himself. A memory came unbidden into her mind.

'She entered the shrieking shack, having watched Harry, Ron and Hermione leave at a run. Moving across the creaking wooden floor, she saw the object of her search and dropped the illusion that hid her, ensuring as she did so that the doorways were blocked and no one would be able to come in. He looked dead, his eyes glazed over, his face pale and he didn't breathe, but she knew he was merely unconscious. The snake's venom paralysed before it killed, supposedly to give Nagini the chance to savour its dinner. Peeling the robes back she could see the deadly bites accompanied by the gaping wound left by Voldemort's curse. He was in a dreadful state, not only paralysed from the venom but also deathly pale from loss of blood, the wounds covering nearly every part of his torso. But he was very lucky. To most, bites this severe from Nagini would be fatal with no conventional magic possessing the ability to cure them. However, even Nagini's venom was no match for her fire, and she began her task. She ensured she left wounds so that the healers would not be too suspicious but shallow enough so that they would not be life threatening. Maybe in future she could persuade him to let her remove the scars.

'As she was finishing she heard him croak out a single word, Albus. Looking into his dark eyes, she smiled slightly and chuckled at him. "Not quite, Severus." She rocked back and his eyes opened wider, taking in the eyes she had inherited from her father alongside her mother's flaming hair. With a sigh – knowing that he would not easily forgive her if he knew she had done this – she pulled out her wand, pointed it between his eyes and murmured "Obliviate." The dark eyes gazed at her in shock before glazing over and his head drooped to his chest. To see him now, he looked merelyt sleeping, but she could not help but feel a deep sorrow at the tragedy that had been his life – even Shakespeare would have struggled to create such an antihero. She sighed sadly for what she had done – he would not easily forgive her if he found out about this, and she suspected he would thank her even less for saving his life. But if she was going to complete what she had come here to do, she needed his help. With a flash of fire they were gone, and the shrieking shack was empty once again.'

Although Snape was not aware of what she had deleted, he was an intelligent man and an accomplished occlumens – he would on a subconscious level been aware that someone had tampered with his mind, and probably that she was the cause. This was probably the cause of his distrust and she couldn't deny it was justified. Another hurdle she had to work through to achieve her task.

Dante was brought out of her reverie by Hermione, who was still scrutinising Harry's other arm. "He said that you smiled too much."

Dante almost couldn't help the smirk that tugged around the corner of her face at Hermione's comment, although her three students were oblivious to it. Maybe her task would not be quite as difficult as she had anticipated.

-x-x-

Hermione hung around at the end of the tutorial, waving Harry and Ginny away with a promise of joining them shortly. She wanted a quick word with the professor and it seemed as convenient a time as any. Dante was surprised to see her waiting in the centre of the room, but hopped up onto her desk and waved Hermione closer.

"Professor, can elemental magic help to cure a dark curse?"

"It would depend on the curse…why do you ask?"

Hermione paused, knowing it wasn't exactly her business but was unable to help herself. "Over the weekend I was discussing plans for the Christmas Ball with Malfoy when he clutched his arm…where the dark mark is. He looked in pain He rushed out, but I think there is something wrong with the mark. Is there anything you can do?"

Dante frowned at her pupil. "I can have a look into it, but I can't make any promises."

"Thank you Professor. Um…could you not mention this to anyone please? Malfoy doesn't know I've mentioned it…"

With a smile Dante reassured her. "I won't tell him, you have my word."

"Thank you!" and with that Hermione left for the night, leaving a thoughtful Dante behind. The professor returned to her desk for a while, finishing off some marking from her third year class. Once she had finished she checked the time, considering carefully before making a decision.

Closing up her classroom she walked out into the corridor instead of proceeding into her private quarters and moved swiftly down the hallways until she found the door she was looking for. This part of the castle had been almost completely rebuilt after the war, with the result that Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts now shared a floor. She rapped briefly on the door to the DADA office and then pushed it open without waiting for a reply. This led to its inhabitant standing abruptly, wand out and customary scowl in place. Ignoring his expression, the redhead walked straight over to him and grasped the arm that was resting by his side, ready to move into a duelling position if needed, his left arm.

Snape had been calmly marking his DADA essays on that particular Wednesday evening, eternally despondent about some of the drivel that the fifth years (really, fifth years, about to take their OWLs – they should know better) had written about detecting poisons. A knock at his door was unusual but nothing too radical, but for that same person to barge in without ceremony (not to mention how did she get past the wards he put up?) was unheard of. Naturally he sprang to his feet, wand outstretched – being a double agent for decades and living through two horrific wars meant that jumping into a duelling position was almost second nature – but the intruder paid no attention to him, preferring to stride over and grasp his other arm hard.

Searing pain shot through his body, so much so that even he couldn't block it completely and hissed. Dante caught it immediately and released his arm, still holding gently but repositioning herself so that she stood in front of him. With his scowl in place Snape lowered his wand arm, and brought his gaze down to her face. Dante looked into his eyes, expecting to see many things there – annoyance for one – but instead finding a trace of fear behind his impassive mask. Turning her attention back down to his left arm, she moved her hand down until she grasped his hand softly. Using her free hand she pulled back his robes revealing his dark mark, and gasped herself at what she saw.

The mark was not jet black, as when Voldemort had summoned his supporters, but nor was it the faded greenish colour of a dormant mark. Instead, it was a dark red-brown, the colour of dried blood. Along with the colour change it was raised like a welt, almost branded into the skin. It looked excruciatingly painful, and before she could stop herself Dante placed her second hand at his elbow and drew some of the pain out, causing the swelling to recede. When she had finished she looked up at his face again.

"Thank you," he whispered, withdrawing his arm from her grasp and gently disentangling his fingers from hers. She had forgotten that she had been holding his hand, and blushed as he removed it.

"How long has it been doing that?"

"A few days."

"And you told nobody?"

"Who is there to tell?"

Dante considered his remarks, and thought about everything she knew about Snape. Dumbledore had been the only person he had confided in, and she knew as well as anyone that the older wizard had been manipulative at best and unlikely to inspire trust, and was now gone anyway. "Minerva?"

Snape snorted derisively. "Much as I respect the Headmistress' capabilities, she rather has enough on her plate with the culmination of a war that has had such an impact on most of the students."

Dante considered suggesting Harry, but had a suspicion as to what the result would be. "You can tell me."

The look of surprise she was given for the suggestion was not lost on her. Snape regarded her shrewdly – in his experience, everybody wanted something and help was not offered for free. He was considering Dante's possible motives, when she almost seemed to read his mind (something that also alarmed him).

"Hermione reported to me that Mr Malfoy also seems to be suffering from the same affliction." Snape raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't interrupt. "When one of my students appears to be in excruciating pain, it becomes of interest to me. So, do you have any ideas as to what is causing it?"

"Why would you assume I know anything about it?"

"Severus, you may not appreciate me but please do not insult my intelligence."

Snape scowled, but then seated himself again at his desk and grudgingly conjured up a chair for Dante to do likewise. He rested his arms on his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him and an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. "Initially, it felt similar to a call from the Dark Lord – he was not exactly gentle when he sent a summons. But he is gone and it…feels different. It almost feels as though someone is trying to replicate his spell but doing it badly. Either that, or it's a lingering curse placed on the mark by the Dark Lord, in case any of his loyal death eaters should outlive him…"

"Either way, not good news."

"Indeed."

They fell into silence, not comfortable but not as tense as usual, until eventually Dante broke it with an observation. "You wish no medical aid."

Snape did not even question how she had understood his thoughts so clearly. "Medication will cover it. We need to study it, to find out what it is. If someone is trying to replicate the Dark Lord's work, then we need to try to stop them." He only registered once he had finished that he had used we, not I, and hoped that she hadn't noticed. Her raised eyebrows and small smile told him otherwise.

"Be that as it may, I will try to think of a cure, if not for your sake then for Draco's. He has been through enough without the constant reminder of bad decisions made in naivity."

Now it was Snape who looked astonished. "You can do that?"

"I am a healer – it is what I have been trained to do."

With that she left, and all Snape could do was watch after her as she breezed from his office. He couldn't help but feel a grudging respect now, although teachers theoretically treated all students equally they were notoriously prejudiced, and usually against Slytherin house. For her to simply state that she would work hard – he knew how complex the curse was from his own attempts to remove it and had no doubt that it would be extremely hard work – to help a Slytherin, and a former death eater at that had knocked him slightly.

One thing was certain – their relationship had reached a form of truce, at least for the time being.

-x-x-

Guinevere paced in her private quarters, trying to think of a way to approach the solution. She had some ideas, but knew she would need Snape's close collaboration in order to pull it off and although they had subtly shifted, she knew he still didn't trust her enough. With a sigh, the young woman fell into a large chair in front of her fireplace with an air of defeat – she would need to work hard to earn Snape's trust, and every delay would cause people more pain. Although she only distantly knew Draco from her transfiguration class she did not want to see him hurt, and she had not saved Severus once just to lose him now.

Luckily for both of them, when Guinevere Dumbledore put her not inconsiderable mind to something, she invariably succeeded.