Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (unfortunately for me)

A/N: Sorry that it took so long for me to update, I have no excuse, I was just being lazy.

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RaveNClaWGeniuS: Thanx for betaing, hope you like the changes.

Nerfi-Tiri: I realize that, yes. But I promise that it only seems that way now, soon, like in the next chapter, it won't seem that way. I'm not a fan of Mary Sue stories, admittedly some are good, but mine won't be that way.

Chapter 9

Hermione walked through the twisting passages of the dungeons of Hogwarts, on her way to see Professor Snape, her new head of house. She walked slowly, familiarizing herself with the surroundings she would have to call home. Professor Snape hadn't specified an exact time, so she hoped he wouldn't be too angry.

She smiled as she remembered the head boy arriving an hour into the feast, completely soaked. He had ranted and raved in front of the entire school about her, and even requested her suspension from head girl duties. Hermione had only raised her brow, and said she had thought he had caught an earlier carriage. No one believed that she had done it purposefully, her goody two shoes reputation preceding her.

Fred had known the truth as soon as they had locked eyes from across the great hall. She could tell he was confused about her being sorted into Slytherin and further by her talking to Malfoy. She had sent him a look, promising to talk with him later.

She was brought back to the present when she found herself standing in front of Professor Snape's office. She tentatively knocked, unsure of what he wanted to talk about. Surely if he wanted to inform her of Slytherin house rules he could do so with the first years.

"Enter." Came the irritated voice of Professor Snape.

Hermione suppressed a shudder as she took in the floating slimy objects in jars surrounding the outer edges of the office, as she entered. She recognized a lot of the objects as priceless, and almost impossible to obtain, potion ingredients that would spoil unless preserved in specially made preservation potions keyed to the specific ingredient. Still many others she did not recognize, and she hoped being a Slytherin would help her gain the knowledge she knew had been hidden from her because she was a Gryffindor; Professor Snape's extensive knowledge of potions. But, even her thirst for knowledge could not overcome her ingrained revulsion of all freely floating objects in jars. They reminded her of a movie she had seen as a child; a murderer who had a sick fascination with dismembering his victims and preserving the body parts in jars. She had nightmares for years after, and from then on, she listened when her parents told her she wasn't old enough to watch certain movies.

"You're late." Professor Snape stated from his desk. He was writing a letter, and hadn't looked up yet.

Hermione slowly slid her gaze over to Professor Snape, taking in the concentration with which he wrote the letter. His brow was creased, a baffled look in his features, as he scribbled furiously. He seemed completely unaware of his surroundings, but Hermione knew he was probably aware of her staring at him. That was one of the things that made him a great spy, his ability to take in everything around him, yet appear completely engrossed in one thing. It was most likely one of the reasons he has stayed alive as long as he has.

"No, I'm not, sir." Hermione said, taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk. "You never specified a time, only that I was supposed to show up before I retired for the evening. For all you know I might retire by three in the morning." She said, with no idea why she was baiting him.

"I didn't realize I would have to set such strict guidelines with you Miss Bourge." He said sarcastically, as he finished writing, and sealed the letter. Setting the letter to the side, he looked up into her eyes, watching her watch him.

Hermione blushed and averted her gaze, suddenly becoming interested in the mantle piece.

Severus smirked at her reaction. 'This is going to be easier than I thought.' He thought.

"What did you wish to speak to me about, sir?" Hermione asked, returning her gaze to him.

Severus noted how quickly and easily she had composed herself, not a trace of a blush present. "Professor Dumbledore hasn't told you everything that you should know. He doesn't feel it is necessary for you to have this knowledge. I, on the other hand, feel you should know. Albus and I have had many arguments over the summer break about this. He finally agreed to let me tell you part of it, but I will tell you all of it. He only agreed because the dark lord has recently uncovered your true identity." He began, fixing her with a serious look. "There was a prophecy given a couple of days after Trelawney was hired. This prophecy never made it to the hall of prophecies; Albus put it in his pensieve. This prophecy was overheard in part by a junior death eater. This is what the junior heard:

A child born of a snake and of one who forsook their glen roots,

Will rise against the dark with the marked one.

Should this one battle the dark, fighting alongside the marked one,

This one will die with the dark, the light will triumph.

Should this one succumb to the lure of the dark,

This one will become the dark, swallowing all light in its path,

Never to recover the marked one will fall."

He paused, letting her commit the prophecy to memory. "This was reported to the dark lord, and this is all that Albus wishes me to tell you. However, there is more to the prophecy, a part of the prophecy that will allow you to live and still destroy the dark:

Should this one wear a mask of dark, this one will deceive the dark,

Vanquishing the dark with the marked one.

This part is only known to you, Albus, and myself." He finished.

Hermione was stunned, for lack of better words, and a little confused. 'Born of a snake?' she thought. "forsook glen roots?' she didn't understand their meanings. If this prophecy truly pertained to her, she was scared. 'Marked one?'

'Harry.' The little voice said, and she remembered his lightning scar. 'Die with the dark.' She didn't want to die. 'Become the dark.' She definitely didn't like that. 'Never to recover.' She didn't like that more.

The last part of the prophecy would give them the upper hand, but at what cost? It didn't seem complete, like part of the last verse had been left out intentionally. Either Professor Snape was keeping something from her, or Professor Dumbledore was keeping things from both of them. She was more inclined to believe the latter.

'Mask of dark.' Would she become a death eater? Or appear evil? Or both? Masks could be physical and mental; she wasn't sure which it would be.

"I don't understand the beginning." She said.

"Your father was a Slytherin, and Albus told me that your mother was born in a glen in Scotland." He said calmly.

All the pieces fell into place, and Hermione, with a frightening clarity, knew what she had to do. She was scared, but she knew it was the best tactical move for her and the light. She would put a dark mask on for her life, for everyone's lives. She could fight alongside Harry, and die as they destroyed Voldemort; which would probably take years, even decades to accomplish. Or, she could put on a dark mask, deceiving Voldemort into believing he would win, and the light would probably win in less than two years, because Voldemort would become complacent, and confident that he would win. She would put a dark mask on because she would never allow herself to succumb to darkness, no matter how badly she wished to live. And she would try to win with her life intact, however scarred and broken her spirit would be. She could heal.

Finally she nodded in grim resolution, looking into Severus' eyes with fierce determination. "I value my life, however screwed up it is, and I will do everything in my power to preserve it. I will wear the dark mask." She said with finality.

The intensity of her look sent shivers up Severus's spine. She chose the path that he wanted her to take, and the one Albus didn't want her to take. He knew he would most likely lose his job for telling her the ending of the prophecy, but he didn't care, she had the right to know. He didn't want her to die.

"Are you sure?" Severus asked her. "Once you go down that road there is no turning back."

"Absolutely." She said. "I can't say I don't have doubts, but I'm sure about this."

Severus was relieved to hear she had doubts; he would have been worried if she had none. "In that case, I'd like to offer you a potions apprenticeship. The apprenticeship is a perfect cover for your training, but if you wish it to be a true apprenticeship then it can be as well."

Hermione gave a slight smile through the torrent of thoughts warring for her undivided attention. "I would like a true apprenticeship." She said, and then quickly banished the warring thoughts, and looked directly into Professor Snape's black eyes, the color of onyx. "So what exactly is the plan for my training?"

"As you know, the dark lord has somehow managed to uncover your true identity, and he wants to seduce you to the dark. He has left that job to me, and the deadline is around Christmas. We have until then to prepare you as best as we can. I will be training you in occlumency, the dark arts, and spy tactics. The training will focus mainly on the last two, because you could attend occlumency lessons with Harry." He said, "I will be teaching you the unforgivables, more for your protection than anything."

Hermione nodded her head in acknowledgement of his words. Her strength was quickly leaving her, her knees felt weak, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand even if she wanted to. The reality of the situation she was now in was truly sinking in. A weight settled on her shoulders, and she knew it would become heavier in time. She was doing this for the magical world, compromising her morals for a greater good. 'Why should I do this for them?' she thought angrily, the magical world had yet to prove its worth to her. She had been treated badly as soon as she had entered this world.

'Not for them, for the world.' The small voice said. She recognized the truth in the statement; the dark lord wouldn't settle for just the magical world, he would want it all. She also knew it was selfish of to ask such a question. She wouldn't be able to live with herself, knowing she had condemned the world to death, torture, and evil.

"When does training begin?" she asked, trying to compose herself.

"Tomorrow, eight pm." He replied. Severus checked the time and dismissed her. Once she had left, he called over his owl and attached the letter he had finished writing earlier. "Deliver the letter to Serena Snape, my sister in Scotland." He told the owl. The owl blinked, showing understanding, and took to wing, barely squeezing through the small window in the far, top right corner of the office.

Severus sighed heavily. Albus was going to be angry with him when he found out, and Severus knew he was risking his life. If Albus fired him, then the dark lord would have no use for him anymore, and he would end up dead one way or another. He was willing to risk his life to protect hers.

Severus had never admitted to anyone, but himself, that he admired Hermione, even more so now. She's intelligent and matched most of his OWL scores, even surpassing him in one. She had calmed down considerably over the summer, matured, owing mostly to the tragedy she had suffered, and he knew her arm wouldn't be perpetually in the air.

What scared him was he had only once admired a woman before; Lily Potter, and he had lost her to James. He had fancied himself in love, and when she had rejected him, he turned to the dark, only to return to the light after he was named Harry's godfather.

He wasn't in love with Hermione, but he was approaching that destination too quickly for his liking. Severus didn't want to be hurt again, and he didn't think he would survive another rejection.

Severus didn't feel worthy of Hermione, he was too tainted for her to ever consider him as more than the greasy bat of the dungeon. She was too pure for him, and he knew it, but maybe, just maybe her becoming a spy would even out the playing field just a bit. He would be there for her when everything became too much for her, he was the only one that would truly understand what she was going through, and maybe with time she would reciprocate some his feelings for her. But, for now, she was his student, and he knew he couldn't bridge that gap; the fact that he was old enough to be her father paled in comparison to her being his student.

Severus knew he would never, could never; forgive himself if he didn't tell her the whole prophecy. He wondered why Albus would rather have her die serving the light than have her live serving the light under the pretense of serving the dark. Perhaps he didn't trust her not to be taken in by the dark arts.

He didn't know the answer to most of the questions he thought of, but he did know he would rather have Hermione live to see what her sacrificing will benefit. He would be there for her, he may not be peaches and cream, but she wouldn't expect him to be.

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Hermione walked the lonely dungeon corridors, her head spinning. She had believed they were keeping something from her, but she had no idea it was this big. She felt like she was being manipulated by everyone around her, like she was a chess piece with the singular purpose of taking the enemy out. She could truly sympathize with Harry now, the weight they both carried on their shoulders, circumstances out of their control making them grow up faster that they would have liked.

'If I'm going to be a chess piece, then I want to be a queen. I won't settle for anything less. I will make it worth it to keep me alive; I won't become an expendable pawn.' She declared loudly in her thoughts.

She didn't like prophecies, especially when they are given by fake seers. This prophecy is obviously given by an amateur, the individual forks of the prophecy are very open ended, anything could happen. And with such a prophecy you could fulfill part of it accidentally without realizing it, because just about anything could trigger it.

Hermione didn't like prophecies, or divination, because most people believe it to be the be all and end all of everything. Parvati and Lavender were such people, and they would have a field day if they knew of this prophecy. Those people believed just by the existence of a prophecy meant it would come to pass, there was no choice.

Hermione believed there was always choice, because the person's choices will lead to the fulfillment of the prophecy. Should the person, they believe a certain prophecy pertains to, does not fulfill the prophecy, the prophecy will be passed on to other unsuspecting victims. The odds are that someone, somewhere, at sometime will fulfill the prophecy. The eventual fulfillment of all prophecies results in why people put prophets, seers, and their prophecies on pedestals. For someone who believes in fate, it is easy to hold a seer in such high regard, but for those who believe in free will, the idea of prophecy seems laughable, and is easily dismissed.

Hermione was somewhere in the middle, believing in both, usually picking and choosing which suited her at the time. Despite her mixed feelings about prophecy, Professor Dumbledore would ensure she fulfilled this prophecy, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Hermione sighed loudly, as she passed a portrait of gossiping witches sitting around a card table. 'At least one good thing will come from the prophecy. I now have an apprenticeship with Professor Snape.' She thought happily. Her passion for potions was unrivalled by any of her peers. She wanted to have a career that focused around potions, maybe even take Snape's job when he retired.

Hermione knew that her apprenticeship with Professor Snape wouldn't make her a potions master, because of the limited time he would have to teach her because of the classes he taught. She would study with him until she graduated and then she would apply for an apprenticeship with a different potions master with more free time.

Hermione was surprised the sorting hat put her in Slytherin. All her friends were in Gryffindor, and she was going to miss them. Ron would be angry with her, as if it were her fault she was sorted into Slytherin. He would say she should have insisted on being sorted into Gryffindor.

She knew causing a scene on her first day as head girl wouldn't be a good idea. She certainly felt like it, but she had more self control than that. Unlike a certain Ravenclaw head boy.

Hermione was suspicious of Draco's sudden change. He seemed sincere, but she knew he could be incredibly versatile. She wondered if professor Snape would know of the reasons behind his sudden change of heart, and if he would share those reasons with her. If not, she would have to persuade Draco to tell her, but she couldn't trust him to tell her the truth. She sighed loudly again. She wasn't sure she could trust anyone to tell her the truth. Everyone seemed to be lying to her all the time, or withholding information from her.

After Harry and Ginny had finished talking to Professor Dumbledore, they had both stubbornly refused to talk to anyone about it. Whatever had happened, they weren't going to tell, and she wondered why they would keep secrets from them. She knew something important had taken place, the white glow that had seeped from the cracks around the door was evidence enough of that.

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts as she arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories. The large piece of bare stone wall seemed to loom menacingly in front of her. Her heart was hammering against her rib cage, feeling as if it were trying to escape the confines of her body. She was so nervous about meeting her new housemates; would they like her, accept her, shun her, hate her, or want to hurt her?

'Where's your Gryffindor courage now?' her annoying small voice said.

Hermione snorted loudly, 'I need to find a way to get rid of that small voice.' She thought. She plucked up her courage and squared her shoulders. "Serpensortia." She said, the bare stone wall morphing into an archway.

She walked through the archway and entered the surprisingly warm common room adorned in Slytherin colors. Most of the furniture was black, or grey, and the multiple throws and pillows were green. There was an elaborate green and grey rug with two large basilisks entwined as the centre piece. They seemed so lifelike, and their posture exuded confidence in their abilities. They seemed to be challenging anyone, and everyone, to look their way.

There was a warm fire in the hearth on the far side of the room; on the mantle were pictures of past Slytherin students to achieve awards. The room was empty, except for Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Millicent.

Draco was the first to see her enter, and he extracted himself from Pansy's firm grip, walking up to Hermione. "We sent all the other students to bed, so we could show you around without everyone here." He said, putting his hand under her elbow and steering her into the common room, the archway closing behind her.

The other students greeted her with less warmth, but they weren't entirely snubbing her. She suspected it was just their nature.

"So, what Dumbledore said is true?" Blaise asked from his seat on the rug.

"Umm, what did he say?" Hermione asked nervously.

"He said you are a pureblood." Pansy said, her tone expressing her disbelief.

"Then he told you the truth. I am a pureblood." Hermione replied, raising her eyebrow at Pansy.

Pansy huffed loudly, turning a fierce look in Hermione's direction. "You may have pure blood, but you'll never be one of us. You weren't brought up with our values, you won't uphold our traditions." Pansy said, glaring daggers at Hermione.

Hermione just shrugged her shoulders, "I never said I wanted to be one of you." She said, effectively making Pansy angrier.

Millicent grabbed Pansy, to stop her from attacking Hermione. No one in their right mind had ever talked to Pansy that way. Pansy was at the top of the Slytherin hierarchy, along with Darco, Blaise, and herself, they even outranked most of the seventh years. Hermione had made a detrimental mistake by brushing her off that way. Pansy would try to make her life a living hell from now on.

Hermione turned to look curiously at Pansy struggling against Millicent. Pansy was sending her an evil look. It seemed Pansy didn't like her very much. "Got a problem with me, Parkinson?" Hermione taunted, not sure of what made her say that. It definitely wasn't the way to make friends.

Millicent had been surprised by Hermione's taunting and had accidentally let go of Pansy. Pansy had let out a feral growl and launched herself at Hermione, knocking her down to the ground.

Hermione hissed in pain as the wind was driven from her as she thumped to the ground, a vicious, biting, scratching Pansy on top of her.

Pansy straddled Hermione, looking down at her gasping form in triumph. Draco and Blaise were cheering them on, while Millicent stood by idly, looking incredibly bored.

Pansy grinned evilly and grabbed a fistful of Hermione's hair and tugged as hard as she could. Hermione yelped loudly, and clawed at her hands, trying to loosen Pansy's hold on her. Pansy grabbed Hermione's head and savagely smashed her head against the stone floor.

Hermione cried out, spots filling her vision. Pansy was apparently pleased with Hermione's dazed condition and stood up and turned her back on her. Blaise gave her a high five.

Hermione angered quickly, her initial shock wearing off completely. She jumped up, swaying slightly, and grabbed Pansy's long hair from behind, wrenching backwards. "Big mistake, turning your back on an enemy." Hermione said before pulled her to the ground. A sickening thud was heard as Pansy's head made contact with the edge of a table.

Pansy lay sprawled motionless on the floor. Millicent rushed to her side, checked her pulse, and then her head for extensive injuries. "She's out cold." She finally said, after a few tense minutes.

Draco and Blaise were staring open-mouthed at Hermione. Millicent stood, and looked directly into her eyes. "No one in Hogwarts history has ever moved up the Slytherin hierarchy so quickly. You are now equal in power to Draco. The only person higher up in rank than you is Montague." She said.

"Slytherin hierarchy?" Hermione asked confused. Her head was pounding, the adrenaline was leaving quickly. She felt the back of her head, something wet sticking to her fingers. She pulled her hand in front her face; blood was dripping from her fingers. She stared to feel woozy, and everyone's voices seemed to be coming from somewhere far way. Whether this was due to her seeing the blood, or the result of her head injury, she wasn't sure.

She started to feel light headed, and the sound of air whooshing past her ears quickly started. Draco appeared to be trying to tell her something, but she couldn't hear him. Her vision went fuzzy, and her knees buckled, and she was caught before she hit the floor in a dead faint.

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Harry, Ginny, Ron, and the twins were holed up in the sixth year boys dorm. Harry and Ron had come bursting in earlier and kicked Dean, Seamus, and Neville out.

Harry and the twins were crammed in a corner, watching Ron and Ginny's violent argument. Broken quills, smashed ink bottles, torn parchment, upturned books, and tattered bed curtains littered the dorm floor. Ron was tearing around the room, desperately trying to escape Ginny.

Ginny skidded to a halt, watching Ron skitter around the room, looking for a place to hide. A predatory gleam appeared in her eyes, Ron seeing it, yelped like a wounded dog, and then launched himself behind his bed.

Ginny smiled wickedly, Ronniekins, you can't hide from me." She said, flicking her wrist, her wand popping into her hand.

"Impedimenta." Ginny practically purred. She loved the excitement of the chase, she felt alive with a singular purpose. The four poster bed splintered into hundreds of pieces, revealing the quaking, crouched form of Ron.

Harry was sure he was witnessing Ginny's hidden passion. 'She would make a great auror.' He thought silently as he observed the controlled fury that was Ginny.

Ron shrieked like a girl, and brought his knees up and started waving his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, Ginny, I didn't mean it." Ron pleaded with her.

Ginny snorted in an unladylike manner. "You shouldn't be apologizing to me; you should be apologizing to Hermione." Ginny began, narrowing her eyes dangerously at Ron. "And just to make sure you do…" She said, as she cast her famous bat bogey hex.

Hundreds of bats surrounded Ron, making him appear like a writhing mass of darkness running around the room, frantically trying to ward off the bats.

Ginny watched with a satisfied smile for a minute, and then took pity and cancelled the hex. Ron continued to run around the room, arms flailing wildly in the air, for a few more seconds before he realized the bats were gone. He immediately sighed in relief, and slumped to the floor nursing his many bites.

Ginny turned a steely gaze on Harry and the twins. "Anyone else have a problem with Hermione being sorted into Slytherin?" she asked, glaring at them until they either said no, or shook their heads in the negative.

Harry smiled; he didn't have a problem with Hermione being in Slytherin. No matter which house she was in, she would always be his friend, and he would always be hers. The twins felt the same, Fred more so than the rest of them.

Ron, on the other hand, had a problem with her being in Slytherin. As soon as the door to the dorm was closed and soundproofed he had accused her of betraying them, and he said he wouldn't be her friend any longer. That's when Ginny punched him square across the jaw with a right hook, and then all hell broke loose.

George had admonished her for hitting one of her siblings, but Ginny convinced him it was in his best interest to be silent. A single anger filled glance in his direction was all the convincing he needed. They had promptly grabbed Harry and retreated to a barricaded corner of the dorm to wait for the storm to pass.

"Ron, I believe you have a mess to clean up/" Ginny said, with an evil smile plastered on her face. Ron groaned in response, and Ginny gave Harry a quick kiss on the check, and then left for her dorm.

Fred and George tiptoed through the mess, "We have some…" Fred began.

"…work to do." George finished.

"We'll leave you to it." They said in unison as they quickly exited the dorm.

Ron groaned again, and stood up to assess the damage. "Aww man, she completely destroyed my bed." Ron whined.

Harry smiled, thinking Ron deserved a couple of nights of sleeping on the floor. "At least the house elves will be able to replace it quickly." Harry flopped himself down on his bed, his stuff was apparently in the eye of the storm, completely untouched. "Better hurry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville are probably on their way already."

Harry fell asleep to the sound of Ron scuffling about, and cursing randomly, as he mended books, clothes, and other belongings.Harry flopped himself down on his bed, his stuff was apparently in the eye of the storm, completely untouched. "Better hurry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville are probably on their way already.