Here you go everyone! It's a small one, but an update none the less! I'm sorry if the chapter feels a bit rushed, and the emotions not quite right, but the following chapter is gonna be the big showdown, so it will take a bit more going over and revisiting than this chapter did. So I hope this satisfies you for now!

As you read, just know that yes, I am being deliberately vague in regard to the telling of Snape and Hermione's plan in this chapter! All good things come to those who... well... you've all waited quite considerably, but you know what I mean. Till next time!

Pretty please R&R!

Madame Dee xxx

Hermione stared numbly at the wall beside her bed. She was sat dressed only in the bathrobe provided to her, with a towel still wrapped in her hair. She couldn't bring herself to look at the dress splayed out on the armchair across from the fire.

Tom, no, Voldemort, had already up and left that morning, before she had woken up from her deep slumber. In a way she was thankful he had left. She didn't want to look at him anymore, knowing that he wore the face of the man she loved, and he was about to make her watch her own friends' murders.

She was no longer sure if last night had been a good idea. It had been impulsive, and it had made her feel in ways she had never really entertained much before that moment. But it had made her hope. For just a short moment when they had collapsed in a tangled heap onto the bed they had stared at each other, and Hermione had a moment where she thought maybe things could get better, maybe things, now that he could feel again, could change. But it was as if he had read her mind then, because he shattered her small burst of hope with only a few words.

"Tomorrow is still happening."

Her eyes had watered then, so she turned onto her side quickly so he wouldn't see the tears fall. He pulled her so her back was snug against his chest with his arm around her. She would have felt loved and protected, had it not been for the sore reality check just delivered to her.

Tired, she quickly fell into a deep sleep, only to awaken to an empty bed, a tray of breakfast and the dress she was expected to wear in only a few hours time draped across the armchair.

She felt more angry at herself than at him when she realized it was the dress she had worn to Slughorn's party, only transfigured into a deep, emerald green. It was like rubbing salt into an already deep wound.

She had then went for a long hot shower, where she scrubbed at herself furiously for a good twenty minutes and then proceeded to simply sit there under the water for another good hour.

Now she sat there, on the bed, facing the wall, suddenly not sure about what to do. She wasn't even sure if anything was worth it in the end. He had won, would there ever be any change to that? What if she couldn't do it? Snape had so much faith in her, she wasn't sure she could handle it.

The spell he had shown her defied all reasonable logic, physics, and especially time. She had argued everything with him, how things should and will not come to pass if the things that made them come to pass in the first place no longer even exist in time to do so.

Magic. That had been his answer. Magic for years was ever defying logic and physics, so why not time as well?

She had asked, what if Voldemort chased her. But he assured that if all goes to plan then that should not be possible in the slightest.

But she was still scared.

Love and magic, Snape had argued passionately, was the answer to this mess. She had scoffed then as love and magic was the reason she was in this whole mess to begin with.

After the initial revelation that he was in fact on her side and that the answer to all her issues was a kiss...Pah! He had then went on in further detail the plan of attack for when the ceremony began.

He had told her all about Harry's mum. She had not felt comfortable in the slightest as Snape poured his story and guilt out to her, she would much rather have her snarky potions master back simply telling her to man up and deal with it.

Thinking of the devil...

Hermione winced at the loud knock on the bedroom door, interrupting her 'feeling sorry for myself' thought process.

"Come in," she called out without turning her head to the door. She had been expecting Snape before the ceremony anyway. He was to insure she looked suitable and act as a chaperon. In other words, he was there to make sure she did as instructed.

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?"

Hermione sneered, "do I look ready to you, professor?"

She heard him as he shut the door and walked over to stand in front of her, making her look at him. He was then able to see the deep sorrow and worry she felt.

"You can do this, Hermione."

Hermione gave a mirthless chuckle. "I don't know if I can, professor. What if something goes wrong and we're both caught out and killed?"

Snape looked her over once more. "You will do fine. You are a powerful witch capable of such a feat."

Hermione smiled slightly. "I've waited 7 years for you to finally praise me, only now, I'm not sure I want it as much."

Snape rolled his eyes skyward. Snarky it was then. The nice Snape approach never did work that well.

"You are pathetic, Granger."

Hermione frowned, "excuse me?"

"Look at you wallowing in your little self pity party. Snap out of it! You have a world to save, so you had better get that ridiculous hair into control, put on that dress, act defiant and get the bloody job done!"

Hermione's eyebrows rose more and more with each passing command.

"Do I make myself clear? Or are you the weak little mudblood everyone believes you to be?"

Hermione shot up and slapped him the face. Damn him!

Snape didn't even flinch, he was just pleased to see a little fire back in those eyes.

"Damn you, Snape! Fine!" Hermione stormed over to the dress, picked it up and marched into the bathroom slamming the door on her way in.

Snape allowed himself a rare smile. Finally. He needed her to be at her most defiant and as strong as she could be in order to face the challenge ahead of her.

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. It was strange, but the dress actually steeled her resolve for this to all go well.

Snape snapping at her was what she needed to get out her momentary batch of doubt and self pity. She needed to be at her best.

Make up and hair accessories had been provided in order for her to get ready for the 'momentous' occasion. She had dried and styled her hair so it fell in loose curls down her back. Her make up was done very light, with only a small amount of mascara and lip gloss really standing out.

She would be doing this her way, plan or no plan, she would not be taking orders from Voldemort. Besides, if she did, it may actually raise suspicion for all she knew. With her make up done light, not dark the way Voldemort would want, she turned to the dress and using some wandless magic she changed the color into a shimmering gold. She would not be wearing his house colors! Putting the dress on and smoothing it over, she felt confidence in herself for the first time in quite a while.

Satisfied, she stepped out of the bathroom to face Snape with small smirk.

Snape merely raised an eyebrow."I explicitly remember that dress being green before." Hermione only smiled at him innocently, to which he rolled his eyes at. He understood her need to show Voldemort up, but all he really cared about was that she was looking back to her old self.

Checking the time on the wall, he figured it was best they leave now in order to be ready at the door for when they were called. He put his arm out for her to take, which she did once she had her small heels on (also turned gold).

The trek towards one of the side doors leading to the great hall did not take long enough for Hermione's liking. Snape and her were stood outside the door with it only open by an inch in order for them to hear her being called. Hermione had to take deep breaths to calm her nerves as she listened to Voldemort go on about his side's victory, the rewards they would reap and the festivities of the night soon to follow. Hermione realized by festivities he meant her friends' execution. This would also be the first time she laid eyes upon the man she had lain with only just last night and was about to betray.

"Relax."

Hermione simply nodded whilst releasing another long breath. She could do this. Deep breaths. She could totally do this.

"...tonight, my loyal followers, we celebrate. And to start us off, let me introduce one of the many spoils of war, soon to be marked forever and forced to serve the very cause she fought so long against. Please join me in welcoming, Potter's Mudblood!"

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat back down as the doors to the great hall opened before her.

She could totally not do this!