The Headmistress held up a sheet of parchment. "Severus, what is this?"

"I believe it is parchment," he deadpanned.

Minerva frowned. "Ha bloody ha."

Severus sighed dramatically. "It's my resignation letter, Minerva."

The Headmistress gritted her teeth. "I realize that. What the hell are you doing?"

The Potions Master sighed again. "I can't just leave Miss Granger to her fate. While I would like to," he said, shooting the Headmistress a dark look, "the fact remains that I am to blame for her situation, and I want no more blood on my hands."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "While I commend such bravery, Severus, it sounds suspiciously honorable, coming from you." She leaned forward in her chair. "Why are you really leaving?"

He sat back and folded his arms. "My motives are my own, thank you."

She pinned him with a glare. "You do realize that, as your employer, I am permitted to ask your reason for leaving?"

Severus sneered. "You should also realize that, as my employer, you are permitted to piss off."

"Sayverus Snip!" Minerva stood and shouted, her brogue betraying her anger. "Ye'll keep a civil tongue in your hayd whilst addraysing yer bettars!"

The Potions Master grinned, flashing his crooked teeth; it was so easy to rile her up. "Careful, Minerva; your haggis is showing."

Realizing that she had been so easily manipulated, Minerva straightened her robes, took a deep breath, and sat down. She held up his resignation letter thoughtfully. "You know I can't accept this, not without a permanent mark on your record for not giving an advanced notice."

Severus scoffed. "I hardly have an unblemished record to protect." He stood and made for the door. "I will be gone by nightfall."

"I'm afraid not, my boy," said Albus's portrait.

Severus took in the visage of Dumbledore sitting with his fingers steepled and knew he was somehow caught up in something. He sat back down and growled, "Tom Riddle is dead, Albus. Any claim you had on my life has been expiated."

"While that is true, there is the iScholae Secundus/i to consider."

Minerva was puzzled. "Albus, if you are saying what I think you're saying, then I am sitting here by mistake."

Albus smiled. "Not at all, Min. When Hogwarts needed a new Head, Severus was too ill to fill the post, even though I had performed the ritual for the castle to accept him, so the responsibility of the school fell to you, the next logical choice."

"That doesn't make sense, Albus. When I became Headmistress, the iScholae Secundus/i never came to me, which means the Head before me never cast it."

The portrait smiled in a way that made Severus shiver. "Oh, I cast it, Min; I simply never released it before my death."

Minerva came out of her chair. "You didn't release it? What in Merlin's name were you thinking?!"

Severus knew when he was well and truly buggered. "So this means that I am magically bound to be next in line should Minerva not be able to fulfill her duties."

"That's right, my boy." The portrait's grin was lethal. "You can't leave the school's employ or its grounds. I've locked you in place, Severus, so Miss Granger will just have to figure things out on her own."

Hermione sat hidden in a row of bushes, watching a white peacock strut its way off into the distance. She waited until it was gone and then snuck up to the very edge of the wards surrounding Malfoy Manner.

"Let me in," she whispered, her wand out and ready.

Knowledge from Lucius Malfoy's mind bubbled up in the back of her skull. The information swept forward in a deluge of magic, and Hermione's wand moved of its own accord, drawing complex runes she had never seen before. Malfoy Manor's shells of protection quietly fell layer by layer.

Hermione waited for any sort of alarm or attack, but none came, so she silently walked from bush to tree to marble column, careful to avoid the spiteful eyes of Lucius's white peacocks. The Death Eater in her mind whispered constantly, telling her which stones to avoid and which to step on, which sections of the wall she mustn't touch, and how to tell the difference.

The front entrance opened without a sound, the doors swinging effortlessly upon enchanted hinges. The Death Eater silenced her footsteps with a wordless spell and stayed in the shadows, edging around the large room. She had to find the entrance to the main hall.

The main hall was just as empty as the front entrance. Relaxing somewhat, she stepped into the Malfoy library.

"I was wondering when you would get here," said a tired voice by the fire.

Hermione went to the two chairs facing the burning logs and sat in the unoccupied one. "Good evening, Draco."

The young blond man grimaced as he sipped his brandy. "Gods, that voice is creepy."

Hermione's features were unaccustomed to so much smirking. "Your father wasn't fond of it either."

Draco coughed and sputtered, wasting the expensive alcohol. "Merlin's balls, you don't pull any punches, do you?" He sat his glass down on a nearby table. "I ought to thank you for that, by the way. You've saved me quite a bit of trouble."

"He's not dead, Draco, just permanently drained of all magical ability."

"Yes, well," Draco sniffed delicately, "he's as good as dead then, isn't he?"

The Death Eater smiled. "Oh, I'm afraid so. Purebloods such as Lucius Malfoy do not function well when deprived of their powers." Hermione leaned forward. "But you, Draco, you I have use for."

"I'm done with having a use." The blond man crossed his legs and looked Hermione in her cold black eyes. "I just want to eat when I want, drink when I want, fuck whom I want, and die with a clean soul."

Hermione mimicked Draco's body language, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair. "I don't particularly care what you eat, how much you drink, whom you fuck, or when you die. Merlin knows we've all been micromanaged nearly to death." She stared into the fire. "I need access to your library, Draco."

Draco scoffed and opened his arms. "Here you are; read all that you wish."

"You know very well which library I mean," she snapped. "Your father's knowledge supplied the proper runes, but I need Malfoy blood to open the portal. I would rather you gave a drop of your own free will, but know that I am prepared to take what I need without your permission."

Realization dawned on Draco. "You're after the Dark Lord's books."

"I'm after far more than that." Hermione rose from her chair and paced. "The Dark Lord had a certain book written by a witch who claimed to have turned a pureblooded wizard into a shaman. I need that book, and you are going to help me find it."

Draco scowled. "Whatever makes you think I would help you? I'm done with all this cloak and dagger business."

Hermione zeroed in for the kill. "You will help me because I will make you my First. Think, Draco, think! What person would you most like to have back with you? What person would you most like to share your mind and body with, binding your souls together for eternity?"

His eyes were wide. "Do you mean…are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco looked into the fire with haunted eyes. "Harry…"