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Hermione had not been able to concentrate all day. Her first class had been DADA with Snape and she just couldn't watch his demonstrations without thinking about what she had witnessed earlier. Does he think about anyone in particular? she had wondered. Though it was foolish, she liked to imagine that he had been thinking about the way she had looked in that green, V-neck dress. Maybe he had been thinking about what they could have done under the mistletoe. Don't be ridiculous. He was probably thinking about some other, mature woman. That thought left Hermione feeling awful.
Then, in Slughorn's class, all she could think about was what lay beyond the storeroom and how he could be in there, even at that moment. She had seen where her professor slept. And now she knew that he slept in the nude. Here, in the safety of Slughorn's classroom, Hermione didn't need to worry about Occlumency. She was free to imagine how it would feel to cuddle up to him in that bed; to roll on top of him and show him just how she felt about him.
Hermione had never been one to fantasize during class, but Slughorn's lectures only ever quoted the text, so she wasn't really missing anything. Besides, it would be different if she was only lusting after her professor. But that wasn't the case. Professor Snape was the most amazing person she had ever met and she wanted to glean every bit of knowledge she could from him.
That night, Hermione was practically skipping back to her dormitory, coming from her first lesson with the Wolfsbane. Already it was clear that this was a very difficult potion, but Hermione was determined to conquer it. Snape promised her that the beginning was the easiest part, but she wasn't discouraged… much.
In the Common Room, Harry and Ron were playing Wizard's chess in a corner. For once, Harry looked like he might have a chance, because Lavender was hanging all over his redheaded opponent. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust and turned toward the girls' staircase. Before she could slip away, however, Harry caught sight of her and called her over. She reluctantly complied.
"There's something I want to talk to you and Ron about in private." Lavender glared at the boy and Ron shrugged helplessly at her as Harry stood to lead them up to the boys' dorm. Ron abandoned the chess match as a lost cause and they ditched the clingy blonde for the safety of Harry's four poster bed.
"Well?" began Hermione curiously. "What is it?"
"Ok, I'm not supposed to tell you guys about this, but you know those lessons I'm having with Dumbledore?" The two nodded in unison. "Well, last night he showed me a memory of Slughorn's in the pensieve. It was about Voldemort when he was a student at Hogwarts. But it was really weird. At one point the memory got foggy and the voices were distorted. Dumbledore said it meant that Slughorn had tampered with the memory and he told me he wants me to find a way to get Slughorn to give me the real one. But whatever it is, Dumbledore seems to think it's really important. Riddle asks about something called a horcrux, but Dumbledore wouldn't tell me what that was. Do either of you know?" They both shook their heads.
"I'll check in the library," Hermione said predictably. Harry nodded.
"Whatever you do, be discreet about it. Dumbledore didn't want anyone else to know." They nodded their agreement. This was big.
The next day, Hermione spent every free moment in the library. She even skipped lunch to search through the restricted section, but to no avail. There simply wasn't a single reference to a horcrux anywhere in the Hogwarts library. Deciding not to skip dinner as well, Hermione stayed only long enough to get some food into her before running off to the library once more.
She was just going to have to give up. Maybe Hogwarts didn't keep books about horcruxes because they were just too dark. That was likely. Sighing in frustration, Hermione grabbed her bag and headed to the lab.
Snape was setting out ingredients when she arrived. "You're late," he said blandly without looking up at her.
"Sorry, Professor. I was in the library." He didn't respond, but she thought she heard a sniff of disdain.
Hermione took a look at the directions and went to gather the rest of the ingredients. "Here," Snape said, pushing a bowl of leaves toward her. "They must be ground to a fine powder. If you are unsuccessful, it will not counter the poisonous properties of aconite and you will kill Lupin. Such a tragedy that would be, too." A few months ago, Hermione would have been horrified at this comment, but now she took it in stride. She had spent enough time with him to know that he wasn't serious.
They worked on the Wolfsbane for hours (it really was a very time-consuming potion). At first Snape only showed her how it was done. Then, he stepped aside and had her do the work while he gave her instructions. She was so nervous, her hands shook, but she knew that he would make sure she didn't make any mistakes that could be fatal for Lupin.
A couple of times, the brew needed to simmer for a number of minutes, and she was able to sit back and rest. She watched the cauldron bubbling as her mind began to wander back to the subject of horcruxes. Then it hit her. Perhaps the Hogwarts library didn't have any books dark enough to explain horcruxes.
But there was a certain Potions Master who happened to know a lot about dark magic and had an extensive private library. No! You cannot ask him about that. This is top secret! She told herself. But who is better qualified to keep secrets than Severus Snape? It was true that Snape already kept plenty of secrets for the Order, and was proficient with Occlumency. But there's always that chance that he really is for Voldemort. But she couldn't believe that. Logically, she knew that each side believed that Snape was loyal to them, and that obviously one side was wrong about him. But in her gut she knew that he was not loyal to the Death Eaters. She was sure of it.
A timer went off and Hermione jumped. "Calm down, Granger. This part is very important. I don't want another incident like the scarab beetles." Hermione glared at him good-naturedly. To her surprise, he grinned back with a devious glint in his eyes. She turned back to the cauldron, her heart thumping in her chest, and forced herself to concentrate on the Wolfsbane.
"You know, Muggles once used the poison from aconite to kill wolves," Snape said conversationally as Hermione stirred. "Hence the term 'Wolfsbane.'" She lost count listening to him and began to panic. "You're on thirteen," he stated calmly. She wanted to glare at him for doing that to her, but didn't want to divide her attention again, and instead found herself smiling.
By the end of the session, Hermione was exhausted. She glanced over at her professor as they cleared the work bench and bit her lip. Should I ask? She was at war. On one hand, she really wanted to know and she trusted him implicitly. On another, it wasn't her secret to tell. What if there was a reason he wasn't supposed to know? Or, what if he did know, but would be mad that Harry had told her? What if he doesn't know what a horcrux even is? But Hermione dismissed that possibility. She had no doubt that he would know. What if she just asked to look through his books? Not bloody likely.
She recognized his dismissal and slowly made her way to the door. It was now or never. She reached for the doorknob and hesitated. Turning to look at her professor, Hermione knew that she was very likely to regret either decision. He caught her glance and stopped what he was doing to rise intimidatingly and raise a scornful eyebrow. "Yes, Miss Granger? Was there something you needed?" She could feel her face flush.
"I just… I was wondering about something…" He didn't respond, but continued to glare down at her impatiently. "That is, I was reading about something and I don't know what it means. I can't seem to find any reference to it anywhere else. I was wondering if you might know anything about it…" She bit her lip, trying to gauge how he was taking it thus far.
"You will have to be more specific, Miss Granger," his voice dripped with sarcasm. She was flushing from head to foot, and only partially from embarrassment. She was putting a lot on the line here.
"I-I believe it was called… a horcrux." The room seemed to freeze in time. Neither professor nor student made any move, even to draw breath. Their eyes were locked and the look in his was intense. For a moment she thought he might be using Legilimens, but she dismissed that idea when he finally spoke.
"Where the hell did you read about that?" he said slowly, his voice dangerously low. Her heartbeat quickened. She had no answer for him.
"I-I don't remember," she lied lamely. He blinked.
"Miss Granger, horcruxes are some of the darkest magic known to the Wizarding world. It's not exactly something you read about in Hogwarts: A History. There is something you are not telling me." He wasn't asking and she didn't answer, just stood there, rooted to the spot, regretting opening her stupid mouth. He was waiting for an answer, and she could see his impatience growing. She could feel it in the room; a dangerous swell of magic threatening her.
Then he was on her, pinning her to the door with his hands on her shoulders. She gasped in shock and met his eyes. Big mistake. She felt him penetrate her mind before she even had a chance to put up a fight. He found the memory immediately and she cursed herself for ever thinking she would be able to occlude him. She watched the memory play out and tried desperately to pull away, but it was no use. Then another fear swelled inside of her. What if he sees my dreams. No sooner had she thought it than an image from one of them swam to the forefront of her mind. Being pressed against a wall. Hot breath on her ear. Crusty jars on a shelf to her right. He immediately withdrew.
For a moment, they stared in shock at each other. She could feel tears running down her cheeks, though she didn't remember crying. Did he recognize the place? His mouth was agape in surprise and his body was completely still.
"Precious Potter couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it," he said finally. Hermione blinked. Perhaps he hadn't seen the dream at all. "And yet, it is so like the old man to give Potter a mission without actually telling him what it's about." Snape began to pace and Hermione's eyes followed him. Then, suddenly, he threw open the door to his chambers and was gone.
The door was left open and Hermione wandered over to it, unsure what he expected her to do. He wasn't in the bedroom, so she took the open door as an invitation to follow him. When she found him in the living room, he was standing in front of a desk in the corner, leaned over in concentration with his back to her. She approached cautiously, making sure to make some sound so as not to startle him.
It was a book, she realized when she had drawn level with him and stood looking down at the desk. Then, he abandoned the book and swept past her to the bookshelf. She leaned toward the book on his desk. "Don't touch it, Granger," he said and she whipped around to see that he hadn't even glanced in her direction as he searched the shelves. He knows me too well, she thought then felt her heart jump into her throat at the idea.
He returned with another book and sat in the chair behind the desk, holding it up to his face to read. When he set it down, it was to stare off into space, deep in concentration. She suddenly felt like she was intruding, but he hadn't told her to leave.
"Fuck," he said simply. But the tone of complete, overwhelming despair made her heart sink deep inside her. "Fuck!" he said again and this time it was as if pieces were falling into place. Then she watched his features cloud with rage and his fist came down on the desk so hard that the room seemed to shake. He leaned against the desk and began rubbing his temples, his face hidden by a curtain of dark hair. Perhaps I should go, she thought. She had already turned to leave when he called out to her.
"Wait," was all he said. She complied patiently. He stood and walked around the desk to where she stood. His eyes seemed to assess her and he spoke carefully. "Can I trust you not to talk to Potter about this?" he asked seriously, his eyes never leaving hers. "The Headmaster may have his reasons for not informing the boy right away." Hermione nodded. His eyes narrowed.
"Yes, Professor," she assured him. "You have my word." He seemed to accept this answer because his eyes darted away in thought.
"If Riddle was asking about horcruxes, he must have been planning to make one. At least, I assume that is what Albus believes, if he is so desperate to have the true memory. If only we knew what had been said in the version he showed to Potter." His eyes came back to hers and she realized he had been thinking aloud. "A horcrux," he began again, "is an object in which a dark wizard places part of his soul so that he can never die. Explains a lot, doesn't it?" Hermione's eyes were wide. "Of course, I think there are ways to destroy the horcrux so that the body may be killed."
Snape returned to the bookshelf, still deep in thought. Hermione's brow wrinkled.
"That is the darkest of dark magic?" she said skeptically. Snape turned to look at her, at first incredulously, but then almost amused.
"Think, Granger. In order to place part of a soul somewhere else, one's soul must be split. Does that not sound at all terrifying to you? Can you imagine what sort of horror would actually split the human soul?" She blinked, but did not respond. "Murder, Miss Granger. Murder is an abomination of the soul. It does unspeakable damage." The note of pain in his voice told Hermione that he knew this from person experience and for the first time since her third year she felt a little afraid of him.
It passed in a moment, however, when she reminded herself of who he was and what he did for the Order. She trusted him. He may have done horrible things. No. He definitely had. But he was a good man. She was sure of it.
That night, lying beneath the canopy of her four-poster bed, Hermione Granger could not get to sleep. And it was for a very different reason this time.
Thoughts? :~.