Knit Me Together

by QueenOfTheDreamers87

"Darkness is not dark for you, and light shines as the day." Some are dead, and some are gone, and some are left behind, scrambling for sense in the darkness. Severus' and Hermione's stories resume amid the bleak altered realities created in "In The Shadow Of Your Wings." This is Book Two of the Psalmody series.

3. Chapter 3

"Let's practice again, shall we?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and flopped down onto her back on the bed in the little bedroom and sighed. Even she, neurotic as she was, was growing weary of the 'practice.' But she knew that she and Severus needed to have this break-in down to a perfect science. So she sat up again and nodded at Severus as he flicked up a dark eyebrow. He nodded crisply and pretended to be a goblin working at Gringotts.

"Good afternoon," he said simply.

"Hello," Hermione clipped, tipping up her forehead. "I wish to get into my vault. Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange."

She crossed her arms in a haughty fashion over her chest and sniffed, and Severus looked unimpressed.

"Have you got your key, Madam Lestrange?"

"I left it at home, I'm afraid. I'm certain you have an extra," Hermione said in a very fine imitation of Bellatrix's voice. Severus frowned deeply and said,

"Madam, I regret that in these difficult times, we must ask for the wand of each witch and wizard who requests access to a vault without a key." He held out his hand smoothly. "It shall only take a moment, but -"

"You may have heard, or perhaps not, I do not know. My wand was snapped this past spring at Hogwarts by a little Mudblood girl. I do not have my own wand anymore. The one I've got was given to me as a replacement gift by the Dark Lord. You are more than welcome to contact him yourself if you've got any doubt about that."

She narrowed her eyes and glared at Severus as if he were one of the goblins at Gringotts. Severus smirked back and nodded.

"The humans at the entrance will have Probity Probes," he reminded her. "I shall need to Confound them immediately upon entering, since I will be so thoroughly Disillusioned and since you will have had Polyjuice. As soon as the goblin at the counter begins a solid conversation with you, I will Imperius him. Are we very clear on all of this?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "We're very clear, until we get down to the vault. Then we have no idea what's going to happen."

"No, indeed," Severus agreed. "Then we have no idea what's going to happen."

There was a soft rapping upon the door, and it creaked open to show pretty blonde Fleur Weasley standing in the doorway.

"'Ermione," she said, holding up a wad of black cloth, "I 'ave your Bellatrix deesguise 'ere. Molly and I 'ave spent all morning making sure your clothes will look just like the stupid cow, so… 'ere you go."

Fleur smiled knowingly as she walked into the room and handed Hermione the tight black bodice, flowing skirts, and over-robe that she and Molly Weasley had worked on. Hermione nodded gratefully and took the clothes.

"Thank you, Fleur," she said, and Fleur shrugged.

"Zis ees very brave of you, of course, 'Ermione," Fleur said firmly. "The last thing I would want is for the costume to be unconv… not to convince, you know? In any way, I wish you all the best luck, 'Ermione. Professor Snape."

Severus' cheeks darkened at the way Fleur addressed him, but he nodded politely. Hermione thought back to her fourth year, when Fleur had come to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons as a Triwizard Cup Champion. When Harry had competed against her after the Goblet of Fire had been tampered with, when Cedric Diggory had been killed because Voldemort had returned. That year had been less than ideal, Hermione thought… rather like this year.

She cleared her throat and tried to clear her head as she said delicately, "I think I shall change clothes now."

Fleur nodded and left the room, and Hermione's hands shook as she changed clothes. Beside her, Severus began to mumble quietly.

"There will undoubtedly be all sorts of security measures where the vaults are. There are rumors of dragons. They will have defensive enchantments. We must be prepared - either of us, at any moment - to re-employ the Imperius Curse upon whichever goblin escorts us. Or worse, Hermione."

She looked at him nervously as she buttoned up her black bodice, and she nodded despite what he meant. He meant that they might have to commit murder in a worst-case scenario. That Hermione might have to kill a goblin. And she nodded.

And in that moment, Hermione knew that she'd fully given herself to the cause of destroying Voldemort - mind, body, and soul.

She watched Severus take out the glass phial with Bellatrix's hair from his breast pocket, and then he picked up the silver flask of finished Polyjuice Potion from the small table beside the bed. Hermione finished buttoning herself up and stepped over to Severus, watching as he uncorked the flask. He pulled out Bellatrix's hair and flashed Hermione a final expectant look before dropping in the hair. There was a little puff of smoke and a small hiss, and the air was filled with a foul odor for a brief moment. Severus swirled the flask about for a moment, and then he passed it to Hermione.

"Drink up, Madam Lestrange," he said quietly, and Hermione took a deep, trembling breath. She shut her eyes tightly and thought back to her second year, when she'd meant to become Millicent Bulstrode after stealing ingredients from Severus' stores. Instead she'd become mostly-a-cat while Harry and Ron went gallivanting off into the Slytherin Common Room. Hermione almost smiled at the memory, so far removed from it all.

She tipped the flask of Polyjuice Potion against her lips and pinched her nose, gagging and spluttering against the awful taste. She forced it down, three mouthfuls in a row, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that formed there. She coughed and shook her head a few times as she tossed the flask down on the covers of the bed, and she heard Severus ask,

"Is hers quite putrid?"

Hermione swiped her wrist over her lips and nodded. "Like the most rotten gurdyroot you can imagine," she said. Then she felt her face contorting and stretching, felt her limbs and skin going taught and relaxing, felt her insides vibrating. She knew she was taking on the appearance of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione waited for the long moment the transformation would take to complete, keeping her eyes locked on Severus'. He stayed oddly calm, for he knew in theory what to expect.

But a flash of black horror crossed his eyes once Hermione went still, once she looked like her. And then Severus cleared his throat quietly and said,

"Right. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

---

Severus hadn't been entirely certain what to imagine below the grounds of Gringotts Bank. He had never been wealthy enough to necessitate ownership of a full vault. He'd always had an account with Gringotts, of course, but his banking had always taken place above ground, with a goblin teller. So he'd never had the pleasure of riding in the carts that twisted and whirled madly into the bowels of the earth.

Today, he and Hermione had quite easily manipulated their way into the graces of a goblin called Bogrod. The old goblin had seemed quite skeptical of 'Bellatrix,' what with her lack of key and lack of wand. But a solid Imperius Curse had set the poor teller straight to rights. 'Bellatrix' and an expertly Disillusioned Severus had then joined Bogrod for an exhilarating ride down to the Lestrange vault in a cart.

Now Severus removed his Disillusionment, knowing that he and Hermione needed to be able to see one another in order to work properly through the charms on the horcrux. He reached for his hip and felt the wyvern dagger there, the one that Luna Lovegood's uncle Caliban had stolen from him so many years earlier. Absently, Severus wondered what had compelled Luna to gift the dagger to Hermione, but he had no time to think deeply on the matter now.

He strengthened his Imperius Curse over the goblin Bogrod, who sucked in air and grinned as they whirred and twisted over miniature train tracks. Severus felt his ears pop as they quickly descended. The lantern at the front of the cart sent shadows flickering around them, but they were moving far too quickly to make much out. Beside him, Severus felt Hermione shivering in the cold wind. She clutched anxiously at the material of Severus' jacket, but he could not bring himself to look at her. Not when she looked just like Bellatrix.

In the flickering light of the lantern, Severus could see a towering waterfall approaching. He could hear no roar of water, though, and suddenly he realized that it was anything but a waterfall before them. It must be one of the protective enchantments, he thought quickly. His heart pounded and his mind raced as he held up his wand and prepared. Hermione (as Bellatrix) did the same beside him, and on instinct they both cast powerful nonverbal Shield Charms toward the apparent waterfall to redirect its stream around the cart as they hurtled beneath it.

"What would it do?" Hermione mumbled, and Severus admitted over the howl of the wind,

"I don't care to find out." He grunted in pain as his ribs were roughly shoved against the side of the cart. It jolted and he saw the goblin Bogrod struggling with the controls. The cart slowed, but the next turn was so rough that the cart yanked hard to the right. Hermione shrieked, and Severus felt himself tumbling end over end. He tightened his grip on his wand, terrified to lose it, and ignored the way his neck and joints crashed painfully against the rocky ground. He righted himself as quickly as possible and looked around the dark chamber to find Hermione.

She lay in a messy heap on a boulder, clamoring to stand, and he reached to help her up. She had blood running down her face - her face, from which the Magical effects of the Polyjuice seemed to have disappeared - and Severus whirled and jabbed his wand toward Bogrod. The light of horrified realization instantly left Bogrod's pale eyes as Severus said firmly,

"Imperio."

The little puff of green magic came out from the tip of Severus' wand again, and the familiar look of contentment came over Bogrod's face.

"Right this way," he said, picking up the cowbell-like instrument he'd brought with him and turning to walk toward the Lestrange vault. Severus gripped Hermione's elbow and helped her up onto the side of the path, nonverbally healing up the laceration on her face.

"Thank you," she murmured, and Severus nodded silently. He checked to ensure that he still had the wyvern dagger at his hip, for all of this would be useless if they couldn't destroy the cup once they found it.

There was a low rumbling sound then, and a sort of growl, and Hermione froze where she stood. Severus felt his heart hammer, and he demanded of the goblin before them,

"Where is the dragon?"

"It guards the vault," Bogrod said simply.

"Subdue it and get us safely into the Lestrange vault," Severus demanded, feeling dizzy from the weight of controlling the goblin with his Imperius Curse. Sometimes, the connection of an Imperius Curse was too weak to allow good control. Not this time. This time, Severus had utter authority over another's mind, and it was almost stifling. He said again, "Get us into the Lestrange vault safely. Now."

"Of course, sir," Bogrod said. He dashed forward and began shaking the cowbell-like metal device he held in his hand. Hermione furrowed her brow beside Severus, but her confusion dissolved when they both stepped into an open atrium and saw the hulking, milky-eyed dragon that Bogrod was charming into submission.

The dragon retreated into the shadows, making pitiful little growling sounds as it did. It dragged heavy, ancient-looking chains with it, and Hermione whispered,

"They've got it trained to fear that thing he's holding, haven't they?"

"Would you rather the dragon destroy us both?" Severus huffed, frowning at her. Really. Sometimes, he thought, her soul was very beautiful. Sometimes it was rather foolish. Hermione pinched her lips and they followed Bogrod to a heavy iron door when he beckoned. He jabbed a set of keys into a set of locks, and he said,

"Search quickly, the two of you. And be cautious."

"Tell me what enchantments guard this vault," Severus ordered. He looked Bogrod straight in the eyes, and for the briefest moment he sensed hesitation from the goblin. Severus swirled all his magic up from his solar plexus and hurtled it at the goblin. It was a furious, angry ball of controlling fury, and he growled again, "Tell me what enchantments guard this vault."

"If you touch anything in the vault - anything at all - it will multiply over and again. However, all the copies are entirely useless to you," Bogrod said in a dull mumble. His eyes went glassy, and he continued, "There is a Flagrante Curse, too. The things that multiply will burn your flesh. Be cautious."

He gestured for Severus and Hermione to enter the vault. They did, and Severus heard Hermione murmur,

"Lumos." Then Severus could see that the chamber was piled high with all manner of bric-a-brac. It would be nearly impossible not to contact any of it.

"Stand perfectly still," he commanded Hermione roughly as the vault door shut behind them. She obeyed him, and he could practically see her mind whirring through the steps of what they would need to do. Severus, meanwhile, searched the full stacks and shelves for the golden cup.

"Accio Hufflepuff cup. Accio golden cup." Nothing, though Severus wasn't expecting anything.

It was a nearly impossible task to find one specific item without touching anything. There were mountains coins everywhere, armor and a massive candelabra and multiple vases and shelves full of jewelry and golden plates and… and a cup. A golden cup.

"There it is," Severus whispered, holding his arm up carefully. The little golden cup had twin handles upon it, and Severus knew - he just knew - it was what they sought. As he took one careful step closer and saw the engraved badger on the cup, he had no doubt. Hermione gasped quietly beside him and said,

"The handles, Severus. Bogrod said not to touch anything. Do you suppose if we Conjured a… a hook of some kind and reached very, very carefully…"

"'Carefully' will be the operative word," Severus nodded. He rubbed his scruffy chin thoughtfully and sighed. He thought hard through the logistics for a moment, staring up at the high shelf. "Right," he said finally, turning to Hermione. "Conjure me a long, hooked piece of wood. Wood does not transfer heat the way something like glass or metal would. I'm not entirely certain how their defensive enchantments work, but wood -"

"Is a much safer material," Hermione agreed. She nodded and cleared her throat as she raised her wand. Severus stalked around the small empty space in the vault, trying to decide whether it was smarter for him to levitate her to fetch the item, or the other way round. Before he could decide, he heard her say,

"Here it is."

He turned to see her holding a crowbar-like piece of wood. It was perhaps a meter long, and she'd even been intelligent enough to put grooves in the shaft of her tool so that when they fetched the cup, it wouldn't slide all the way down to their hands and set off the alarms. Severus smirked and said in his 'teacher' voice,

"Very well done. You hold it and stand just there. I'm going to levitate you. Pull it down and dangle it very carefully. Then come and set it here in the middle of the floor."

A very resolute expression came over Hermione's face, and Severus could not help thinking despite the dire situation that she was very pretty. She was beautiful perhaps because she was so very able, he thought. She was beautiful because of who she was. He loved her dearly for that.

She turned over her shoulder and flashed him an expectant look, cocking an eyebrow at him. Severus remembered where they were, and he cleared his throat roughly. He pulled up his wand and thought carefully, 'Wingardium Leviosa.' He performed the characteristic swish-and-flick motion with his wand, and Hermione's body lifted off the ground in response. As Severus dragged the tip of his wand upward, Hermione pulled her knees up so that her body was a compact little ball.

Wise yet again, Severus thought. He pulled her levitated form toward the shelf and she reached out the long wooden hook she'd Conjured, along with her illuminated wand. The shadowy vault crackled with energy, for there was so much magic within the small space that the air felt alive. Severus' heart thrummed within his chest and his ears felt hot as he concentrated on his task, on edging Hermione closer and closer to the glimmering golden cup. Her eyes stayed trained on their prize, even as a low dragon roar made its way through the thick stone door of the vault. Severus, too, ignored the ominous sound.

Finally, Hermione was near enough to reach out and touch the tip of her hooked wooden tool to the handle of the golden cup. Severus held his breath, his black wand trembling where he held it out to control Hermione's levitated body. She pulled the cup off the shelf and it quivered in the air as if to protest being moved, but it did not multiply. Severus huffed out air anxiously and took his time moving Hermione and the cup back to the little patch of open space in the center of the vault. Once he'd lowered Hermione to the tattered old rug before him, she scampered back away from the cup, leaving it on the ground and dropping her wooden hook.

She pointed her wand at the cup, her hand shaking, as Severus reached for his hip and pulled out the pearlescent wyvern dagger. He glanced down at it for a moment and said firmly,

"I will do it, and then we will run. Are you ready?"

"Yes," she whispered beside him. Severus spared one last glance up to her face, spending five seconds studying the way the ghostly light from her wand glowed on her skin. He looked at her eyes, at her nose and mouth, and he said quietly,

"I love you, Hermione."

Then he pulled the wyvern dagger up and let it hover near his right shoulder for a moment. He aimed the gleaming tip carefully at the quivering golden cup, and he thrust it straight downward. The moment the blade hit the cup, it sliced straight into the metal as though the cup were made of butter. The dagger went hot in Severus' hand and he struggled not to release it, instead pulling it up again and stabbing once more.

There was an awful shriek as though a thousand banshees had been loosed from the metal as the cup split into several pieces. There was a terrifying tremble as the ground of the vault became angry, and Hermione shouted,

"It's a Temblor Curse! Hurry, Severus! Stab it again before the ground swallows us up! We have to run!"

Severus yanked the wyvern dagger from the screaming cup, feeling a heavy sense of dread wash over him as the piercing shrieks were joined by the distinct sound of Voldemort's voice shouting curses in a faraway scream. Once more Severus stabbed, and the cup began to bubble and steam, and the destroyed horcrux began melting into the floor. The vault shook harder than ever, and trinkets began to fall from the shelves.

The heavy stone door creaked open, and in the threshold stood a very angry-looking goblin that was not the Imperiused Bogrod. Severus, feeling shocked, raised his wand, fully prepared to kill the creature. The angry goblin raised his own hand, and distantly Severus wondered who would strike first.

But then he felt the tight grip of Hermione's hand at his elbow, heard her voice scream out, "ORAVERIT!" and the vault was gone. Gringotts was gone. He was whirling, pinching, tumbling in a cold black nothing.

---

The bright shock of sunlight when they landed made Hermione blink a few times. The transition from the rumbling and shrieking to abject silence was jolting, too. And there was something decidedly Muggle about where they'd landed; Hermione could almost feel the lack of magic about her.

But by far the most terrifying thing about where they'd been transported was what was happening between the two people in front of her. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were in a hotel bed, fully engaged in sexual intercourse.

"Fucking hell, Hermione!" Harry shouted, going instantly red-faced as he pulled himself off of (and out of, Hermione thought with disgust) Ginny Weasley. He pulled a pillow in front of himself and tossed the blankets in front of Ginny, who looked as though she would die of shame. Hermione flicked her eyes over to see that Severus had rushed to disappear into a corner upon their landing, looking quite as though he were going to vomit.

"I'm… oh, goodness… I'm so sorry, Harry. Ginny. It's just that we were, we were destroying the cup. The horcrux. We were at Gringotts, and we - we had no time to warn - we were in grave danger, and - I'm sorry, it's just that we -" Hermione struggled through her apology and staggered around the tiny hotel room, nearly knocking over the bedside table as she made her way away from the bed.

Ginny coursed her fingers through her ginger hair and swore under her breath, saying gruffly,

"There's a bathroom just through that door, Professor, if you don't mind waiting in there and giving us a minute to dress."

Severus said nothing in response to that, keeping his eyes lowered as he vanished through the door Ginny had referenced and slammed it closed. Hermione might have laughed at the sight at another time, but now everything felt different. Instead, she tried to joke to Ginny as she glared out a window,

"You're lucky he didn't take try to take thirty points from Gryffindor and give you each six weeks' detention with Filch."

"Oh, ha-ha," Ginny huffed as Harry yanked on his denims, facing away from the both of them. He tossed Ginny's clothes onto the bed, and Ginny dressed as Hermione stared down at the street below.

"I'm sorry that we've appeared out of nowhere," she said again, more quietly this time, knowing that her friends were embarrassed. They had no need to be, and if Hermione was honest with herself she was happy that the two of them had found some semblance of respite in all the madness of the world.

She could see that they were in some sort of cheap Muggle hotel somewhere in Croydon in London. That much was obvious because she could see the old red brick clock tower. She sniffed quietly and fingered the lace curtains as Harry asked from behind her,

"You said you were off destroying a horcrux? So that explains my searing headache fifteen minutes ago. That's what made me want to -"

"May I turn around?" Hermione asked in a clip, and she got a gruff affirmation, so she did. Harry and Ginny sat looking rumpled on the edge of the mattress. "Come on out, Severus!" Hermione called. Severus came out from the tiny bathroom looking as though someone had served him dung soup. He sank into the lumpy armchair by the outdated brass lamp, drumming his fingers as he said crisply,

"The cup is destroyed."

Ginny, still red-faced with humiliation, lit up a bit as she breathed, "How?"

Hermione and Severus took turns explaining just how they'd broken into Gringotts and why it was they'd needed to escape so quickly. At the end of the explanation, Severus was pacing with his hands knitting behind his back, Hermione was pink-cheeked and breathless, and Harry and Ginny were wide-eyed as they held hands on the bed.

"So what comes next?" Harry asked, gulping heavily.

"What do you mean, Potter?" Severus demanded. "We intruded on a rather… indelicate… moment for the two of you. I should think we ought to leave and regroup a later moment to discuss such -"

"No. You know what I mean. There's the snake. The diadem. And there's me."

Hermione felt her stomach sink. So Harry did know. And he probably knew full well that he had to die. She looked up to where Severus was pacing, and she watched him stop. A strange look crossed his black eyes as he stared at James Potter's son - at Lily's son - for a moment, and then he said softly,

"The diadem would be next, ideally. In the Dark Lord's mind, it was in a forest, but I suppose that is only where he had to go to fetch it. We will have to find it ourselves."

"And how are we meant to do that?" Ginny demanded, squeezing Harry's hand more tightly.

"You two have already expressed a great discomfort with too much proximity to the Order, or with too much participation in any of this, owing to Potter's occasional mental connections with the Dark Lord," Severus reminded them. "It is certainly good that the Oraverit connection existed, for the purposes of escaping today. But the diadem will not be your task, Potter. You two stay here in London, or run off wherever you will. It is not my business anymore what you… do… on your own time."

He curled up his lip, and Ginny and Hermione suppressed little smiles. But Severus and Harry nodded at one another, and Severus held out his hand for Hermione to take. Before she did, she gave little hugs to Harry and Ginny, holding back a bit when she thought of what they'd been doing just a few minutes earlier. She smiled at them and said,

"Keep yourselves safe. We'll speak to you again soon, somehow. Once the diadem's destroyed."

Ginny and Harry nodded, and Hermione took Severus' hand as they rather awkwardly left the hotel room. They made their way down three flights of stairs and out into the streets of Croydon, with Hermione feeling as though she'd been plucked from one odd reality and dropped into an even stranger one. She pulled Severus into a dark alleyway and whispered,

"We need to Transfigure our clothes. We couldn't look less Muggle right now if we wanted to. We look like freaks going to a Marilyn Manson concert, or -"

He shocked her by catching her mouth in a kiss and pushing her against the brick wall, and Hermione squealed. She hurried to glance out into the sunny street, straining to make sure no one was watching them. No one was. Severus panted a bit as he glared down at her, and he hurriedly changed Hermione's 'Bellatrix' robes into a tank top, a hooded zipper sweatshirt, a pair of denims, and a pair of sneakers. On himself he put a burgundy jumper and a pair of black trousers. Then he started kissing Hermione again, and she whimpered against his mouth.

"What the devil's come over you?" she demanded softly, pressing his chest away from her. But she knew, of course. She didn't really have to ask. He answered anyway, licking his bottom lip as he pushed her wild hair from her face.

"You are a brilliant witch," he said in a hoarse voice. "Without you, the locket would not have been destroyed. Without you, the cup would not have been destroyed. I will not be able to destroy the diadem without you. You are everything, Hermione, to me and to the cause of destroying the evil that permeates the world now. You are… you understand, don't you? Of course you do."

It was not at all what she had expected him to say. She had thought he'd merely been jealous of the way Ginny and Harry had been going at one another when they'd appeared in the hotel room. But as he crushed her mouth with his again, Hermione felt her eyes burn with tears, and she found herself kissing him back. She found she did not care whether anyone was watching. And when she heard someone say, 'Get a room!' from the bright street, she pulled away and watched him go scarlet with embarrassment, and she laughed.

---

"What can I get for you?" The bored-looking teenaged girl chomped her gum rather obnoxiously and pulled her worn little notepad from the back pocket of her trousers. She smacked her chewing gum and flicked her bottle-blonde hair at Hermione.

"Erm… cheese and tomato toastie, please. Thank you." Hermione passed over her menu to the disgruntled teenager, who turned to Severus with a sigh as she scribbled down Hermione's order. Hermione glanced out the window of the Shepherd's Bush café as she heard Severus say,

"The salmon and egg salad."

"I'll have that out straight away." The Muggle girl finished scratching down the order, and then she huffed off to another table, smacking away at her chewing gum.

Hermione sighed lightly and watched Severus sip at his black coffee. The sun outside felt nearly blinding after so much time spent on the grey seashore at Shell Cottage, Hermione thought. The sunshine betrayed the chill in the air, she knew. It was long past Christmas now, and there was very little chill left in Hermione's soul.

There was, however, the scratching sound of Judy Garland over the café's sound system. It seemed the restaurant had not yet adjusted their soundtrack to the season. Hermione recognized the song from a very old Muggle film she had watched a few times with her mother growing up, and her eyes burned at the memory of that. She shut her eyes and listened to the song.

'Through the years we all will be together if the Fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough and have yourself a merry little Christmas now…'

"Hermione."

Her eyes flew open and she willed away the tears as Severus said in a serious tone, "I believe it would behoove us to start making a list of places the Dark Lord might have hidden the diadem. Then we can talk through that list and eliminate nonsensical places, start thinking through -"

"Yes, of course." Hermione nodded quickly and sniffed, and Severus looked confused as he furrowed his brow and asked,

"Are you quite alright?"

Hermione nodded again and lied in a squeaky tone, "Yes. I'm fine."

Severus did not look convinced. They had checked into a cheap guesthouse in Shepherd's Bush a few hours after landing in the middle of Harry and Ginny's love scene unannounced. Hermione had showered in the shabby bathroom and changed her clothes with supplies from her Expanded bag (which she had been veryglad to have brought from the cottage). Severus had suggested they stay a while in London until they could sort out a plan for the diadem, and Hermione had agreed. They'd prepaid a week in the guesthouse, and then they'd made their way to the café in the street below.

Hermione was still rather in shock about the ridiculous day. She'd taken Polyjuice Potion and had 'become' Bellatrix Lestrange - the woman who had killed not only Sirius Black and others, but most importantly Ron Weasley. She had helped Severus break into Gringotts, where they'd destroyed a vessel for the soul of the most powerful Dark wizard of all time. She'd snatched his pocket-watch from her bag and transported them to Harry and Ginny, interrupting a pornographic moment in time before realizing just how grateful she was for Severus' ingenious invention.

Now she sat in a café listening to a song that made her think of her mother. The woman who had carried her for nine months, who had taught her to walk and read and had cared for her when she'd been ill. The woman who now lived a half a world away and had no idea that Hermione had ever existed.

Was Hermione alright? No, she decided. She was not alright. She let herself cry all of a sudden, in a way she very rarely allowed herself to do. She flung her face down onto her forearms and let the ugly tears leak forth from her eyes, feeling her back heave with sobs as Severus hissed,

"Hermione, I can appreciate your torment. Really, I can. But the entire restaurant is staring, and -"

"I do not give a damn who is staring," Hermione promised him, her voice muffled by the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She felt warm with anger, and then the teenaged waitress' voice said in an awkward tone above her,

"Miss… I've got your toastie."

Hermione pulled herself slowly upward, swiping snot and tears from her face ungracefully and knowing her skin and eyes were red and blotchy. She did not care. "Thank you," she sniffed to the bewildered girl.

The waitress looked for a moment at Severus, giving him a skeptical stare. Hermione could scarcely blame the girl; Severus looked a full twenty years older than Hermione and she sat opposite the little table from him in tears. The waitress put Severus' salmon and egg salad on the table in front of him, and he pursed his lips and muttered a brusque thank-you to her.

"Anythin' else?" the girl asked. She turned to Hermione and added deliberately, "Miss?"

Hermione felt very grateful for the Muggle waitress just then. She wanted to be the girl's friend, even though they probably had precisely nothing in common. Hermione shook her head pitifully and whispered, "No, thank you."

"Right. You pay up front when you've finished," the girl said, plopping a bill down on the table and stalking away.

Hermione picked up her sandwich and stared at it for a long moment before taking a bite. As she chewed, she saw that Severus' expression had softened and that he'd pulled his knuckles up to his lips thoughtfully.

"You need to rest," he said at last. He picked up his fork and took a bite of salmon, and Hermione answered,

"I'll take Dreamless Sleep tonight."

"That is not what I mean," Severus insisted, shaking his head firmly. He gulped down coffee and set his fork down. He dabbed delicately at his lips with his napkin and seemed to think for a while about what to say. At last he said, "You have rather a habit, Hermione, of pushing yourself very hard indeed. You begin to fray, but you don't notice it. It's like a rope; it will hold through the fraying, but then it snaps. You've always been that way."

"Have I?" Hermione asked in a defensive tone, though of course she knew she had been. She pushed hair from her face and watched Severus smirk at her. He nodded once and said,

"In your fourth year, my Potions final exam was scheduled for two days before the Yule Ball. Everyone in the castle was so excited for the damned party that they all forgot school was in session. Nobody revised for my exam, or for anyone else's, for that matter. Minerva McGonagall gave the lowest average marks that term that she'd given in her teacher career to that point."

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up in spite of herself. She knew where Severus was going with all of this. She took a bite of her toastie, trying to remember what it had been like to be more worried about the Yule Ball than about dying.

"Nobody cared about the exams," Severus said again, "Except for you. But you gave too much of yourself to school, and I noticed even then, Hermione." His brow wrinkled as he seemed to concentrate on the memory. "The other girls came into my classroom chattering about what dresses they were going to wear to the ball, about what shoes they had. About the rumor that the Weird Sisters were going to play. But you came in with black circles beneath your eyes, twitching from lack of sleep, your hair a frizzled mess about your head, a stack of ten books in your arms."

Hermione stifled a giggle at the thought of herself looking that way in front of Severus. He'd married her two years later in spite of herself, she thought. He shook his head and carried on,

"I remember thinking to myself, 'This girl is going to go mad. She's going to snap.' And you did, once or twice, properly lose your temper with your poor hapless male friends. And your answers on my written final exam were so beyond what I'd asked that they were nearly burdensome to read."

Hermione laughed aloud at that. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"You're not," Severus said in a surprisingly warm tone. "You're not sorry that you know more about unicorn blood than Newt Scamander. You're not sorry that you were able to write sixteen uses for murtlap tentacles besides murtlap essence… even though I'd only asked for three uses."

Hermione grinned and shrugged. "What's your point?"

"You need to rest," Severus said again, more firmly this time. He reached across the table and took Hermione's hand in his. She shut her eyes and felt rather dizzy as he said in a soothing voice, "You've done quite a lot, as you always do. But I am telling you that you need to rest, for you never know that yourself. We will take a few days to recuperate, and then we will discuss the diadem."

But Hermione shook her head firmly and opened her eyes. "There is no time to waste," she insisted.

Severus pinched his lips, adopted his 'teacher voice,' and scolded her, "You are of no use to anyone if Judy Garland drives you to tears, Ms. Granger. Until you've rested properly and cleared your head, we will not speak of our tasks. Understood?"

She nodded at last and picked up her toastie. "Understood."

---

Severus lay in the lumpy bed of the guesthouse and stared at the ceiling, feeling Hermione's breath on his chest as he tried to think of where Voldemort would have hidden the diadem.

It could still be in the forest, of course. In the Dark Lord's mind, that had been the word that Helena Ravenclaw's ghost had been saying. Forest. Forest in Albania.But Severus had a nagging sensation that the memory was old, that the Dark Lord had long ago fetched the diadem from that hiding place. It was somewhere else now.

Helena Ravenclaw. She was the daughter of none other than Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Founders of Hogwarts. Helena now roamed the school's halls as a ghost called the Grey Lady, since her life had ended under less-than-auspicious circumstances. From what Severus understood, Helena had been pursued by a Baron in Slytherin House. When Helena had run off with her mother's powerful diadem, the Baron had been sent by Rowena to fetch the girl. Helena had refused to come back, and the Baron had murdered Helena and himself in a fit of jealous rage. They both served as House Ghosts at Hogwarts now.

"Hermione," Severus mumbled, and she stirred on his chest. She pushed herself up a bit, and Severus grunted at the awkward way she pushed on his ribs. Once she settled onto the mattress beside him, she asked in a sleepy voice,

"Whassamatter?"

"May I assume you've read Hogwarts, A History cover-to-cover more than once?" Severus asked, and Hermione abruptly looked more awake. He knew he'd told her just this afternoon that there would be no talk of any of this. He was not doing well with that vow.

"Of course I've read Hogwarts, A History," Hermione huffed, yawning and sitting up straight. "I've read it at least seven or eight times all the way through. Why?"

"Where did Helena Ravenclaw take the diadem?" Severus asked carefully.

"Albania," Hermione said at once. "To a forest in Albania."

Severus shut his eyes and said, "The memory I saw in his head. It was old. Very old; I could feel it. He was young. He was… Riddle. He was asking Helena where it was, where the diadem was, and she sent him to the forest in Albania."

"Well, I reckon it was probably there for a thousand years, then," Hermione posited. "You think he made the horcrux out of it that long ago? What, forty, fifty years ago?"

Severus nodded against his pillow and opened his eyes. "But where would he hide it?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "He wouldn't move it over and over again. He would have made it, put it somewhere, and it would probably still be there. Don't you think?"

"Probably," Severus agreed. "Somewhere very safe."

"What was he doing back then?" Hermione asked. She knew Severus would have some semblance of background knowledge for Voldemort, and of course he did know the man's biography better than most. Severus sighed heavily and shrugged.

"In the memory, he felt spry. Young… still a student."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Harry told me that he grew up in an orphanage and that he wanted to teach at the school. Dumbledore told him so. Hogwarts was the only home Tom Riddle ever really had, especially at that age." She narrowed her eyes and mused, "I think if it was that long ago, he'd have hidden it somewhere at the school. And there's only one place I can think of that's safe enough. The only question is whether or not Tom Riddle knew about it."

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her. "And what place is that?"

Hermione leaned down and pushed a few strands of Severus' black hair from his face as she teased him, "Oh… is there something about Hogwarts I know that you don't? You've only lived there for twenty years of your life…"

"I woke you up to ask your advice on this; I wouldn't have done so if I knew it all," Severus growled, suddenly grasping Hermione's shoulders and pushing her down onto the mattress. She squealed and giggled as Severus demanded again, "What place are you referencing?"

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione said breathlessly as Severus moved atop her. He froze. He'd never heard of such a thing, and Hermione had been right; he'd been at the school for decades. He climbed off of Hermione and propped himself up beside her.

"What is the Room of Requirement?" he demanded, and she huffed in frustration as she pawed at his bare chest for a moment. He ignored her and glared. Hermione finally said,

"It is a secret room in the seventh floor corridor. Harry first found out about it from Dobby the House-Elf. It only appears when a person has very great need of it. I believe the room is sentient to some degree; it seems to sense what purpose the need is that is being fulfilled, and the room shapes itself to the appropriate size and shape and fills itself accordingly. We used it for D.A. meetings fifth year. Neville and some others went in there last year to escape the Carrows. And I think it would make a very good hiding place. But, as I said, there's no way to know whether Tom Riddle had any knowledge of -"

"Why the devil haven't you told me any of this before?" Severus asked quickly, his hands flying to Hermione's shoulders on instinct. She flinched under his touch and he tried to release her, but his hands only tightened on her skin. He knew his face was harsh, but she said quietly,

"You were using Veritaserum our fifth year - on Umbridge's orders, I know - to get information out of Dumbledore's Army students. I was disinclined to tell you about it then, and to be honest it didn't seem important until now."

Severus released her and swallowed heavily. He watched Hermione rub at her shoulders and he distantly wondered whether he'd hurt her. Then he mumbled,

"If there was ever someone who would know of such a room, it would be him. We shall need to contact the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, somehow."

Hermione pinched her lips and said, "The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. One hangs in Grimmauld Place, and you and I could go there. His other portrait is in the Headmaster's Office, and we know that the Castle is still loyal to you since the Carrows can't get admitted to the office. Professor McGonagall told me so. Phineas Nigellus could go between his portraits and work with the other paintings to get a message to the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, don't you think? To ask her whether or not that's where the diadem is? Then we would at least know whether it was worth risking a trip into the school?"

"Or we would know whether we could send Minerva," Severus nodded, feeling his lips curl up. "You're right. We'll work with the portraits to get information from the Grey Lady. Once we've confirmed that the diadem is at Hogwarts, we shall send word to Minerva McGonagall on how to access the Room of Requirement and how to obtain the diadem."

Hermione smiled broadly and pushed her wild curls from her face where she lay. "I thought you said this afternoon that there was to be no talk of this until I was thoroughly rested. And yet, you've awakened me from my slumber."

"I'm sorry," Severus whispered. He bent to kiss her neck, and Hermione arched her back up and held fast to his shoulders. She gasped quietly as Severus kissed her neck more deeply and whispered again, "I'm sorry for waking you…"

"Don't be." Hermione yanked at her thin camisole and pulled it over her head, baring her round little breasts to Severus. He groaned as he wrapped his hand around one and took the other in his mouth. She tasted clean and felt soft, and Severus felt himself go hard at once in his pyjama trousers. He felt a desire to taste her, for some reason, and he slid down against her body. He took her flannel shorts and underwear with him, pulling them over her hips and urging her to wriggle out of them.

Severus spent a long moment simply studying her - the way her waist curved gently into her hips, the way her womanhood lay nestled between her slim thighs, the way her pearlescent entrance already glistened with moisture. He reached out and dragged his fingertips up the inside of her thigh, watching her shiver and pull her ribs up off the mattress. Her hands grasped at the sheets when he teased her clit with his fingers, and she moaned his name a few times when he rubbed her with his thumb.

"The reason I wanted you well-rested, Ms. Granger, was so that you could adequately contribute to the thought process of finding the diadem," Severus said in a stern tone. He hooked a finger inside Hermione and massaged her firmly with his thumb. She gasped and her hands tightened on the sheets. He smirked and continued, "Despite your overexertion and exhaustion, you have proven yourself to be, yet again, a most valuable asset to our cause. Perhaps the most valuable asset. Never let it be said that Ms. Hermione Granger let a lack of sleep get in her way of accomplishing a goal."

He lowered his face to where his thumb was and replaced his hand with his mouth. She yelped when he began dragging his tongue over her clit with long, smooth motions. She writhed and twisted on the mattress, but Severus persevered in his steady, slow, strong motions. He grasped at her waist and pulled her hard onto his mouth, and she cried out so that he knew she was close to finishing. He yanked his mouth away from her, ruining her orgasm.

"Fucking hell, Severus…" Hermione said angrily, grasping her own hair in frustration as she pulled herself up onto her elbows.

Severus gave a low chuckle from the back of his throat. "Do you want to come?" he asked, and she scowled as she exclaimed,

"Of course I do!" She reached for his head and tried to push him back between her legs, but Severus smiled crookedly again and said,

"Ask me nicely."

Hermione's cheeks went pink and she said indignantly, "I am quite capable of making myself come, you know."

Severus shook his head and sat up. "Do you remember, you wicked little girl, the spell you cast upon me during our wandless magic lessons? The day I first kissed you. I couldn't help myself; not after what you did to me with your little torture. It was a very pleasurable little curse. What was it again?"

Hermione's eyes went wide with a mix of thrill and terror, and she half-smiled as she shook her head. "Severus, don't you dare -"

"Interminagaudens."

He touched his hand to the outside of her womanhood, and his wandless spell hit her at once. Hermione was instantly racked with the blissful agony of an intense and ongoing orgasm. She was utterly incapacitated, lying on her back as her toes curled and her hands reached aimlessly for something to hold. Severus watched for a moment in fascination, his playful dominance dissolving as he took in the sight of her. Her nipples were taut and dark pink; her skin was flushed and shining. Her face was contorted in an expression halfway between agony and ecstasy.

On instinct, Severus yanked off his pyjama trousers and clutched his solid member in his hand. He slithered atop Hermione's squirming, climaxing form and pushed his tip against her.

"Can I -" he began, and she cried out breathlessly,

"Yes! Yes, do it!"

Severus did not need to be asked twice. He hurtled himself into her in one thrust, feeling the slick, welcoming embrace of her body. Then he felt the way she was continuously clenching around him, and he groaned and tensed. She did not reach to touch him, nor open her eyes to look at him as he thrust into her. She could do no such thing; she was far too busy, lost in the Never-Ending Climax Jinx. Severus came before too long, unable to hold back against the feel of Hermione cinching him into her. He relished the feel of his pleasure, but nearly laughed at the way it was over in seconds, while Hermione had spent the last four minutes solid in a frenzy.

As Severus bucked his hips against her body, he thought the Interminagaudens spell had been the invention of a witch. For men, the jinx was an embarrassing and potentially painful fate. For women, it seemed, the only negative end result would be exhaustion. Hermione was still tossing her sweaty head back and forth against her pillow, her eyes wrenched shut in bliss, her voice hoarse as she said Severus' name over and over again. He pulled himself out of her and murmured,

"Finite incantatem."

For a while, he thought she was asleep, lying there covered in sweat and her own fluids and his seed. Her chest heaved and her eyes were closed and her limbs were flung awkwardly about her. But then, at last, Hermione said in a gravelly whisper,

"Fifty points to Slytherin."

Severus laughed quietly and pushed her damp hair from her forehead. She covered his fingers with hers and said,

"I need a shower… more badly, I think, than I ever have."

Severus nodded, though she could not see. He pulled her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, and he said, "Then, my darling, my intelligent and determined and wicked little wife… then you shall rest."

---

"Confundo. Confundo." Severus snapped his wand back and forth between the two hooded Death Eaters that stalked slowly along the sidewalks of Grimmauld Place. The Death Eaters knew vaguely where Number 12 Grimmauld Place was, though of course they had no means of accessing the Magical safe haven.

Almost immediately after his Confundus Charms hit them, Travers and Macnair wandered aimlessly into a nearby alley. Severus gestured for Hermione to follow him. She trotted behind him as they crossed the narrow cobblestone street, slick with cold rain. In the darkness, Severus could see the old, stou house squeeze out between numbers 11 and 13.

Severus knew, too, that before he'd died, Alastor Moody had put jinxes on 12 Grimmauld Place to keep Severus out. Members of the Order of the Phoenix had explained this to Severus at Shell Cottage, with some measure of embarrassment. Of course, before Moody had placed the jinxes, it had been believed that Severus' killing of Dumbledore was full-on murder. He had instructions on how to overcome the jinxes set by Moody. That didn't make them any less of an annoyance.

As Severus and Hermione walked into the musty old house, he was greeted by a Teraskoni - a monster made of dust in the form of Albus Dumbledore. It came careening down the corridor, fully formed in a hyper-realistic imitation of the old wizard that Severus had been forced to throw from the Astronomy Tower. Severus frowned and heard Hermione whimper quietly from beside him as the Teraskoni hurtled closer with a soft swish. Severus called out, quietly enough so as not to wake the portrait of Walburga Black,

"I killed you, Albus Dumbledore. I killed you, just as you ordered me to do."

Just a moment before the dust Teraskoni of Dumbledore smacked into Severus, it disappeared. The dust figure of Dumbledore dissolved with a puff and a sigh, flying about in a swirling vortex of murky particles. The jinxed cloud settled silently on the carpet, which was so dusty anyway that one could scarcely notice the additional mess.

Severus looked down at Hermione, who scowled and said, "It would seem a bit unnecessary for Professor Moody to have made -"

"I do wish you would not refer to Alastor as 'Professor,'" Severus said tightly, stalking down the long corridor of the house. He sniffed and added, "You were instructed in your fourth year by Bartemius Crouch, Jr., not by Moody. He was never your professor."

"You're just cross that Dumbledore accidentally let a Death Eater - a real one - teach us for an entire year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when that was the position you wanted so badly," Hermione countered. Severus felt his eyebrows crumple. It was an oddly sharp barb from her, but, then, she was probably a bit shaken after what had just happened. Severus chose to ignore what she'd said and proceeded briskly up the narrow stairway at the end of the corridor.

The wall sconces at the top of the stairs illuminated with flames, and Severus thought Hermione must be casting nonverbal spells at them. The stairs creaked angrily beneath Severus' feet as he climbed onto the first floor. He glanced into the bedroom on the left side of the first landing and felt Hermione touch his elbow gently to make him pause.

"This is the room I shared with Ginny," she murmured, pulling Severus toward the doorway. She gazed into the cramped little room with a bit of wonder, and Severus heard a strange crack in her voice as she lit the oil lamp on the table beside one of the lumpy beds in the room. He cast his eyes about the little space. There were two beds on knotty dark frames, each covered in heavy quilts and pillows, and Severus asked,

"Which was yours?"

Hermione jutted her wand out to the bed with the rose-colored, moth-eaten quilt on it. She mumbled, "Ginny was very fond of Crookshanks, you know. Most mornings I would wake up in this room and Crookshanks would be on Ginny's bed instead of mine. I wonder what became of him."

Severus thought suddenly that they ought not linger too much longer around this space. There was no positive energy radiating from his wife just then; she seemed melancholy and dark. He sighed and said in a conciliatory tone,

"The creature always seemed as though it was more than able of caring for itself. I'm certain Crookshanks is alive and well."

She turned to him in the doorway with a half-smile, her eyes sad, and said rather firmly, "Let's go find the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, shall we?"

They continued up the stairwell, ignoring the drawing-room where Severus knew a great many important Magical items lay. On the second floor was another bedroom that encapsulated too many memories, but they could not ignore this room at all. This was the room where Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had spent their time at Grimmauld Place. It was also where the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hung upon the wall.

Hermione stood frozen in the doorway for too long a moment, and Severus was loathe to say anything or make her move. He let her stand there, just staring into the dark bedroom. He knew that she was remembering what Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had been like in this bedroom. He knew she could see them both, laughing boys in candlelit merriment. She could see them with furrowed brows, deep in worried conversation. She could see them eating candies, could hear them discussing witches, could smell their too-strong cologne and their pubescent body odor. She could see the light in their eyes, even in the shadows that swallowed the bedroom now. She could sense her best friends - the living and the dead. Severus let her stand there and sense them, and when she turned and collapsed against his chest with heaving sobs, he let her cry.

He held her and said nothing. For what felt like an eternity, Severus said nothing, even as she shook and hiccupped against him. Finally, she raised her red-rimmed eyes to him and swiped her wrists over her face, and she asked in a crackling whisper,

"He's gone, isn't he, Severus?"

Severus nodded once, and he realized for the first time just how sorry he was about the fact that Ron Weasley had died. It wasn't just because he'd been Hermione's friend, either. The boy had been a troublesome annoyance at best for Severus over the years. He'd been a rather odious rule-breaker and a less-than-enthusiastic student. But Ronald Weasley had been nothing if not the typical brave and loyal Gryffindor. He had certainly not deserved a death by torture, a death of pain and suffering at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. It did not seem right in any shape or fashion that Ronald Weasley was dead. Least of all because he'd been Hermione's friend.

"D'you know," Hermione sniffled, taking a step back and giving Severus a sad smile, "I think if you hadn't gotten to me first, and if he'd managed to keep himself alive… d'you know, I think Ron Weasley would have tried to marry me?" She snorted out a miserable little laugh and shook her head at the memory of her friend and turned into the bedroom, illuminating the sconces on the wall. "What a world that would have been, eh?"

"Indeed," Severus answered in a bit of a clip. He followed her into the bedroom and moved to step in front of the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. Their conversation at the doorway seemed to have awakened the portrait from its dormant state. The grey-bearded Slytherin peered out of his dusty old frame at them, eyeing Severus with a wary stare as he said carefully,

"Is that you, Headmaster?"

"Phineas Nigellus," Severus bowed his head and said tightly, "I'm sure you remember my wife, Hermione."

"Madam," replied the portrait. In other times, Severus knew, the old member of the Black family would not have treated Hermione with deference. He would have thought her a 'Mudblood.' But she was the wife of a Hogwarts headmaster, and she'd forged Magical genealogy. Today was hardly the day that Severus was going to correct that misconception. He licked his lips and said to the portrait,

"What news of Hogwarts?"

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus narrowed his painted eyes and frowned. "The Headmaster's office has been dark and quiet for some time… as I'm quite sure you know. Since your flight, Headmaster, the office has rightly refused admittance to the Usurper. She has tried - oh, she has tried. But the Castle will not let her in. The portraits talk, of course. I have heard of terrible treatment of students. Many instances of Unforgivables cast left and right for hardly any reason at all."

Severus felt his stomach turn, felt his lip curl up, and he nodded to urge Phineas Nigellus to continue, for the portrait had hesitated. The old painting paused, and then said,

"It is rumored among students, Headmaster Snape, that you are dead, you see. But two students in particular have been telling the others that that cannot be so. They say that if it were so, that Professor Alecto Carrow would be operating from the Headmaster's office. 'Professor Carrow can not get into the office because Professor Snape is alive. And if he alive and gone, he must be in trouble. We owe it to him to find him and Madam Granger, to help them both.' That is what those two students have been saying. I am made to understand that they have been punished often for their disobedience by the Carrows."

"Who are those students?" Hermione asked curiously from beside Severus. He had some idea, of course, and Phineas Nigellus Black confirmed his suspicions when he said sharply,

"A Ravenclaw girl called Luna Lovegood and a Gryffindor boy… Neville Longbottom."

Hermione's breath shook beside Severus, and he felt her hand reach for his and squeeze it gently. Severus nodded his head and thanked Phineas Nigellus for the update on the school. Then he said,

"We have come, Headmaster, to ask a favor of you. We need to get a message to the Grey Lady - the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw - to find out the current location of the Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. I'm afraid I can give you no more information than that… but suffice it to say, Headmaster, that the very existence of wizardkind relies on the known location of the diadem. This is critical information. We must be in touch with Helena at once."

Phineas Nigellus looked abruptly concerned, and Severus knew his voice had gone low and sharp with the portrait. The subject of the old painting furrowed his grey brows and appeared to concentrate hard for a moment. Then at last he nodded and said,

"I think I know a way. There is a painting, here in the Headmaster's Office, of Headmaster Amrose Swott. It is the only painting of a figure who -"

"Is also a ghost. Yes!" Hermione clapped her hands rather excitedly from beside Severus, earning herself a scowl from the portrait and a scolding hush from Severus. As a look of hurt crossed her face, he reminded himself that he was no longer her teacher. Then he thought if she did not wish to be treated like a know-it-all, she ought not to bounce up and down like a fool. Severus sighed and turned back to Phineas Nigellus.

"Amrose Swott," he repeated calmly, nodding. "The 18th century headmaster. Yes. A painting in the office, who can, of course, convey the message to his other portrait. That painting can make contact with his own ghost, or with Helena Ravenclaw."

"The location of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem," Phineas Nigellus said, repeating the task back to Severus, who gave a firm nod.

"We will stay here at Grimmauld Place until you've secured the information for us. At that point, we will ask you - if you are willing - to contact someone to fetch the piece for us. This is all critically important, Phineas Nigellus. I can not stress that enough."

The portrait nodded and rubbed at his beard. "I believe I can sense that," he said. "I shall speak at once with Headmaster Swott and see how quickly he can contact Helena Ravenclaw. Come back to this portrait in twelve hours' time - at eight in the morning. Hopefully, I shall have an answer for you then."

"Thank you, Headmaster Black," Hermione said from beside Severus, and he noticed that she'd lost her childish giggle. The portrait gave her an approving nod, and then he disappeared out the side of his frame.

Once he'd gone, Hermione looked at Severus and said in a serious tone, "If the diadem is at Hogwarts, I think we ought to have Luna Lovegood get it for us. She's willing to be tortured over and over again just to defend us. Just to tell people you're alive and that we're good. She wouldn't ask questions, Severus. If someone told her, 'Hermione and Professor Snape need you to go fetch this diadem and get it to them straight away,' Luna would do it. She would risk her life for it. You know that, Severus."

He nodded. She was right, of course. Minerva McGonagall would do it, too, of course, and she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. But Minerva McGonagall explicitly did not trust Severus. She had been given many reasons not to trust Severus, and so though she might acknowledge Severus as an 'ally,' there would always be a corner of her heart that saw Severus as an enemy. That was not true for Luna Lovegood. The odd girl was a bit loopy, to be certain. But Hermione was right. If there was ever a creature who would lay down her life for the cause without asking why, it was Ms. Lovegood.

Severus nodded. "If we find out the diadem is in the Room of Requirement," he said, "We shall send Luna Lovegood to fetch it for us. Then we shall have sneak to Hogsmeade through the Shrieking Shack and go to Tomes and Scrolls. I still count Othello Copperfield, the owner of Tomes and Scrolls, as an old and discreet friend of mine. She will take the diadem to him in careful wrapping and we will pick it up from him there."

Hermione looked pleased at that, but then she chewed her lip and admitted, "All of this is assuming that the diadem is at Hogwarts."

Severus cocked his head to the side and said, "We shall have to wait twelve hours and find out from Headmaster Black whether that's the case or not."

"Right. Well, I'm off to take a shower, then," Hermione said, and she moved to step quickly beyond Severus. He thought perhaps she just wanted out of the room where Ron and Harry had slept during their time in Grimmauld Place, so he let her go, watching her disappear into the dingy bathroom.

---

Three hours later, Hermione had clean hair and a full stomach. She and Severus had scarfed down food - they'd Transfigured biscuits from her Expanded bag into soup and bread - and some tea. They'd eaten at the long wooden table in the kitchen where Hermione had spent many evenings with her friends, where happy and sad conversations alike had occurred. Where Order of the Phoenix meetings had happened, where Hermione had not been allowed because she'd been too young. She could still remember Severus going into the kitchen for meetings while Hermione and the others listened in with Extendable Ears from the staircase. That all seemed like a lifetime ago.

She had put on an old t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants and had settled into a bedroom in a far nook of the third floor while Severus showered. It seemed like a cozy enough space, though it needed cleaning. She'd Scoured the room of dust and rid it of doxies. She'd changed the bedding from tattered old blankets into a nicer set, a velvet burgundy duvet to shut out the chill. She lit a fire in the marble hearth and had pulled herself into a bed with a book from her bag - Ende of Deth, the ancient copy of the Tale of the Three Brothers that Severus had gotten her for her birthday.

Hermione could hear the hot water juddering through the old pipes in the walls as Severus took his shower in the bathroom down the corridor. She opened the weighty book on her lap and illuminated her wand, casting the ghostly blue light onto the odd illustration before her. It was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows - the Symbol of the Master of Death, as Severus had begun to call it. They'd discussed the notion that perhaps if Harry had all three Deathly Hallows in his possession when he confronted Voldemort, somehow he might survive having the horcrux within him destroyed. But even Severus thought all that would happen then is that Voldemort would gain the Hallows for himself. Hermione sighed heavily and looked at the symbol and the text beneath it.

'For dyd twa brethren a graunt dwale commit. Thinken them bothe, that hys tool wille gar Dethe creaunt. And the terce brother, dyd he wyth Dethe bi-comen Frenden. But dyd he not gar Dethe creaunt. To gar Dethe creaunt, thresum toles thurfen. On-lepi thane gar man bi-comen Sire ofe Deth. On-lepi thane gar bi-comen Ende ofe Deth.'

Hermione scowled down at the page. This text was significantly more difficult to parse out than some of the other bits had been. It almost seemed as though this were an older dialect, even farther removed from modern speech than the rest of the ancient manuscript. Hermione looked gently through the pages and realized that she was right; this passage was clearly made up of very antiquated wording that probably came from nearly a thousand-year-old conventions. She finally managed to make sense of it and realized what it said.

'For the first two brothers had been mistaken. They had each thought that their tool alone would conquer death. And the third brother made friends with death, but did not conquer it. To conquer death, all three tools were needed. Only then could one be the Master of Death. Only then would there be the End of Death.'

That was not the way that most modern copies of the book ended, Hermione had come to know. Most of the newer version of the Tale of the Three Brothers ended with the last brother embracing death, walking off into the stereotypical sunset. But Beedle the Bard had not penned this book, nor the story itself. This passage probably went nearly all the way back to the Peverell brothers themselves, Hermione thought with a shiver. Then she shivered again, for she glanced up from her book to see that Severus was standing in the doorway of the bedroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

"Hermione Granger reading in the dark? My, my… something I never thought I'd see," Severus teased her, holding the towel at his hip with one hand and coursing his fingers through his damp hair with the other. He smirked, and Hermione felt a strange quiver of desire go down her spine. She carefully shut her copy of Ende of Deth and snuffed out her wand, changing the aura in the room from cool to warm light as the fireplace lit the space.

Severus stepped into the room and nonchalantly pulled the towel off of his body, folding it neatly and placing it over the back of the armchair before the fireplace. He stalked naked to where his robes lay waiting after their Cleansing Spell. At the sight of him walking nude, Hermione could not suppress a little whimper, and he turned to her and laughed softly.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Granger?"

"Don't call me that," Hermione pleaded, shutting her eyes and shaking her head. She swallowed as a heady feeling took her over, and she would not have been able to explain why it made her feel more alive to hear him call her by her last name.

"Why not?" he demanded, as though he could tell he'd struck a nerve. He padded over to stand beside the bed, and she felt him touching the thick braid she'd pulled over one shoulder. She yanked her eyes shut but could tell his low voice was close when he spoke again. "I remember telling you not to call me 'Professor.'Not to call me 'sir.' Is it the same reason for you now as it was for me then?"

"Yes," she nodded, unable to do more than whisper that word. It was true; something had seemed decidedly off about the fact that they'd been a teacher and a student when they'd first become a couple. At the same time, that had been an unmistakable part of their dynamic, of who they were, and it had been lost in the chaos of the world.

"We are not at school anymore," Severus reminded Hermione, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He moved his hand from her braid to her neck and brushed his knuckles against her soft skin, parting his lips as his throat bobbed with a thick gulp. She could see him struggling to maintain his stony expression, though it was evident he wanted her. His voice stayed solid as he said again, "I am not your teacher, and you are not my student. And nobody calls me 'sir'anymore, least of all you, Ms. Granger."

Hermione realized in that moment just how much that fact affected Severus. If he'd had dozens of pimple-faced Hufflepuffs calling him 'sir,' he would have been just fine. If he'd had a second-year Ravenclaw sobbing in his office because she'd melted a cauldron, or a fifth-year Slytherin stressing over OWLs, or two seventh-years in trouble for snogging… then he would have been fine. If he'd been looming over other teachers, or passing briskly through corridors that were home to him, or eating the same meals he'd always eaten at the same table where he'd always sat… he'd have been fine. If he'd been sleeping in the quarters where he'd lived for fifteen years, or working in the office where he'd worked for all that time, and all the while people had been calling him 'sir,' then Severus Snape would have been just fine.

But they weren't at school. So none of that was happening. And Severus Snape was not fine.

Perhaps a year earlier he'd wanted Hermione to stop calling him 'sir,' because a year earlier there had been pimple-faced Hufflepuffs to do it. But now there was no one to do it. Now they had horcruxes to destroy while everyone wanted them dead. Now Hogwarts was in figurative ruins, the wizarding world itself was on a chaotic, uncertain brink… and Severus Snape was not fine. He had lost a great deal of himself, Hermione thought suddenly. If by calling him 'sir,' just for one night, she could give him a tiny bit of himself back… then she would.

Hermione reached tentatively up for his hands and laced her fingers through his. She swallowed, feeling nervous all of a sudden, for she knew what sort of bomb she was about to set off. She looked him right in his dark eyes and put on a sweet little tone as she said quietly,

"Sir, I wonder if you might help me with something."

She dug her teeth into her bottom lip and watched the flash come over Severus' eyes as she spoke. She knew full well that he was no pedophile. He had never loved her because she had been his student; he'd loved her in spite of that fact. And, anyway, Hermione was of age when they'd begun their trysts. But in recent weeks, Severus had had all his power stripped of him, and that was something Severus had always relied upon - power. So tonight Hermione was going to give a tiny bit of it back to him.

Severus seemed as though he were quite pleased indeed with that arrangement. He tipped his head up a bit, and Hermione felt his hands tighten on hers.

"What do you need help with, Ms. Granger?" His voice was the brusque clip she'd heard from him in the classroom for years, and Hermione struggled not to smile at the sound of it. Instead, she tried to make something up quickly.

"Erm… Doxies. I found some in this room. I Scourged it in here, but I'm nervous there might be eggs. Can you… can you teach me how to check for doxy eggs?"

She knew full well how to check for doxy eggs. And as Severus cocked an eyebrow at her, she knew he'd seen right through her. So it was with little surprise that she watched him sneer a bit, cock his head, and say,

"If I'm not mistaken, Ms. Granger, you learned how to reveal doxy egg infestations in… third year Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes?"

He moved to climb onto the old bed, and it creaked a bit beneath his weight. Hermione shivered in the cool air of the bedroom as she felt Severus' hands press her wrists to the blankets, and she nodded.

"Oh. Yes. That's right," she said, feigning forgetfulness. "Infestatio Ovum Revelio… I'd forgotten."

"Had you?" Severus asked smoothly, kneeling on the duvet beside Hermione and moving her hands swiftly above her head, "or were you lying to me?"

He bent down and his lips were an inch from Hermione's as she panted quietly, feeling her heart flutter with sudden need for him. She struggled to speak for a moment, and finally she admitted against his mouth, "I'm sorry. I was lying."

Her pretense was gone then. She was submitting to him, not because it was a game, but because she couldn't help it. It felt good to let him hold her hands above her head, to let him overwhelm her with his authoritative aura. He let out a low, rumbling laugh against her lips, and Hermione burned with a fever of want. She squirmed on the blanket, and he moved quickly. He used one strong hand to clutch both wrists above her head, and the other hand grasped at her hip and stilled it.

"Do not ever lie to me, Ms. Granger," Severus growled, moving his mouth to kiss her neck He held fast to her hip so Hermione was forced to lie still, even as he lathed his tongue on her sensitive skin. She cried out and he snarled, "I will always know when you're lying. I can see right into your mind. Remember?"

"I remember, sir," Hermione said, but just the same she heard Severus mumble,

"Legilimens."

Then there was a crashing sensation, and Hermione felt her memories crack open for him like a shattered glass sphere.

'It's been over a half hour… Do you feel yourself again?'

Hermione swallowed heavily and looked about the room. The space was no longer swimming in her vision. She was not dizzy anymore, and her nausea had subsided. With a twinge of guilt, and more than a fair bit of shame, she realized how she had come to be sitting across a desk from Professor Snape in an empty classroom. She glanced down at herself and was abruptly self-conscious in her low-cut gown, and felt her cheeks grow warm. She frowned and flicked her eyes up to see Professor Snape eyeing her with a question in his black eyes.

Hermione remembered thinking while she was drunk that he was handsome. Well, she hadn't been all that wrong, she considered. Tonight, more than usual, Professor Snape looked sharp and sophisticated. Certainly, Hermione had enjoyed the past half hour here with him, snarkily discussing Hogwarts Christmas traditions and rattling through a historical book list. It had been a far better time than that she'd been forced to spend with Cormac McLaggen, that was certain. Professor Snape had been right, after all. The males who were Hermione's age were all boys. Ron was petulant and immature, while Harry was volatile and unpredictable. Cormac McLaggen was… well, he seemed to be thinking with the wrong bloody organ, that was for certain. But the person across the desk from Hermione was a man, not a boy, and he had been the one to yank her aggressor away from her. He'd been the one to give her a potion to set her rights, the one to make certain she stayed hydrated. He'd even known all the books she should use for her History of Magic research.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione gasped a bit, jarring herself back to reality. Professor Snape had both his eyebrows raised and was waiting for an answer. "Do you suppose you can go back to Gryffindor Tower now?" he asked.

"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry, sir. Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you for all of your help. Truly."

Hermione felt queasy and dizzy as Severus yanked himself from her mind, and as she stared up into his face she saw a strange heat there. He quirked up half his mouth and said seriously,

"You were very pretty that night. The night Mr. McLaggen assaulted you in the corridor."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said awkwardly, and she felt Severus pull his hand from her wrists. He shook his head and frowned.

"Don't ever call me that again," he whispered, sitting up onto his knees. Hermione felt as though ice water had gone through her veins, as though him seeing that memory had doused the fire that had been burning between them, and she mumbled desperately,

"I'm… I'm confused, Severus. You wanted me to -"

"Idiot Hufflepuffs who misspell their own names should call me 'sir.' Once I'm reinstated as Headmaster, the other teachers may call me 'sir' if they wish. Harry Potter should call me 'sir' until the day he dies. But you, Hermione Jean… you must call me 'husband,' for that is what I am to you. I am the man who loves you. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, and she reached up to cup his jaw in her hands. He leaned down to kiss her, and when he did the magic from their Magnum Verbum Honoris connection thrummed powerfully between them. Hermione sighed against his mouth, and he arranged himself atop her. He kissed her until he grew hard and she grew damp for him, and he touched her for a while until she found a quiet, peaceful release. Then he pushed himself into her wet, smooth folds and pulsed his hips against hers, muttering over and over again that he loved her until he bucked himself once or twice and gritted his teeth and cried out her name like a spell or a prayer. Then he pulled her up tightly on his chest and she nearly fell asleep, listening to his heartbeat against her ear.

"Did you really find me handsome?" Severus asked, and Hermione was so very nearly asleep that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Hmm?" she grunted softly.

"The night of Slughorn's party. Did you really find me handsome?"

Hermione giggled quietly against Severus' skin, letting his chest hair tickle her nose as she whispered, "Did then. Do now. Yes. Why?"

"You know that I wore that tailored jacket to impress you," he said, kissing her hair, and Hermione looked up at him and scowled.

"No, you didn't." She shook her head in disbelief, and Severus nodded very seriously.

"I did. Just a few nights earlier I'd caught you alone in a classroom and realized you'd become very beautiful. I didn't realize it then, but I thought perhaps if I wore that jacket you might notice me. What a lovestruck fool I was… it's positively humiliating."

"Is it? You're lying naked in bed with me right now," Hermione reminded him. She dragged her fingers around his chest and felt him shiver, felt the prod of his manhood on her thigh as he came back to life. She curled up her lips and kept touching him as she said, "I noticed you."

"Do you know how infuriating it was to see Cormac McLaggen push you up against a wall and kiss you? I mean to say… yes, of course it would have been infuriating and unacceptable to see anyone in that position, and… and you were unacceptably drunk, Hermione. I should have given you many detentions for that, even if you had been assaulted. You'd broken rules by being that drunk, you know."

"So punish me," Hermione teased him, reaching beneath the blankets and wrapping her hand around his cock. Severus groaned quietly and shook his head as he mumbled,

"It was… over a year ago."

"Ah. So it was," Hermione nodded. "You'll let it go, then?"

She pushed Severus' shoulder gently so he rolled onto his back, and she swung a leg with him. She pushed herself down onto his hardening member and felt him solidify fully within her as she sank down. He clutched at her waist and hissed as she began to move atop him, and Hermione touched her own nub with her thumb as she ground her hips and bounced a bit. Then, starting to count days as she thought about Slughorn's party and winter and New Year's Eve, she panicked. She leaned down to kiss the skin beneath Severus' ear and gasped as she realized something.

"Tomorrow is… tomorrow is your birthday," she panted at last, slowing her hips. Severus paused for a moment as if he were making sure she was correct. Then he resumed their motions and grunted back at her,

"So it is. What of it?"

"We… have… we have to celebrate," Hermione insisted, kissing Severus' neck as he moaned. He shook his head, and Hermione nodded on his neck as she cried, "Mm-hmm!"

"No, we most certainly do not… can we discuss this later, please?" Severus demanded, sounding breathless and desperate as his hands clamped hard on Hermione's slim waist and drove her onto his cock. She laughed gently and nodded, sitting up and giving him more attention.

Ten minutes later, after he'd come and cleaned them both up, she finally got him to pant,

"There will be no ridiculous celebration of my birthday. Is that plainly understood?"

"Oh, yes. Fine. Whatever you say, Headmaster," Hermione laughed. But before they could tease one another too much more on the matter, they'd both fallen asleep.

It was probably better that way, Hermione thought. It was better that they wore one another out in Grimmauld Place, where the memories could keep her awake and depressed for ages. She needed to rest, after all. In the morning they would learn whether Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem was in Hogwarts, whether Luna Lovegood might be able to fetch it for them. Whether their quest to continue destroying Voldemort's immortal, split soul one piece at a time could continue.

And tomorrow was Severus' thirty-eighth birthday… and they had to celebrate.