The last chapter for today... there's another one coming up shortly, promise - so this is it. Enjoy!
"Sectum."
"Expelliarmus."
"Ascendio."
"Lumos maxima."
Luna's spell blinded her momentarily and she stopped her attacks, feeling the ropes of her friend's Incarcerous tie around her body. Right before she'd regained her senses, she was confounded.
"Halt!"
Pansy's call reached her ears, but she was not sure anymore who it was addressed to, where was she, what was she doing here? Who had she been attacking?
"Finite." On cue she regained her senses, and relaxed in the hold of her tight imprisonment, a flex of her hand and she was free.
Snape watched as she tumbled over the solid ground, taking a deep breath, before she smiled up at Lysander Lovegood – he smirked under his disillusionment charm, apparently his Granger wasn't the only witch. Even Parcival… he hadn't suspected the Slytherin, but now that he thought of it, why else would have four so different students of such different houses huddled together like this if there wouldn't have been one major uniting factor?
And they were all witches.
"Luna, you're improving… a lot. But you need to occlude your thoughts more, I shouldn't have been able to tell you to lift me up in the sky, right?"
The blond sighed and nodded resolutely, before Cho Chang stepped up. From what he had heard, she hadn't changed her name, and really, it wasn't necessary – no one could tell with those Eastern names anyway*.
When Granger rose from the ground and took a swig from a water jug that was provided from the room, he was granted the sight of her beautiful heaving chest in the constricting fabric of the men-chemise. The trousers clung to her figure and he watched a tiny trail of water disappear into the hidden paradise between tissue and skin.
It took some time until she had regained the majority of her powers – she sat down heavily and looked at her friends. "Right… the target… my target is to stay put, no words… just… don't be gentle with me."
"Legillimens." Luna, as he got to know Lysander now, obviously warred with Granger, the only witch whose name he didn't yet know, they all referred to her as Hermes… maybe she was a Hermaphrodite?
"Pansy." Cho said and he watched as his Slytherin guarded her eyes, raised her wand and cast the one spell he hadn't suspected of her to cast. "Imperio."
The spell took effect almost immediately. "Stand up for me." She ordered, but Granger fought for her composure, she was shaking heavily, breathing deeply in and out. Snape could not imagine the strain the refusal had to put on her, let alone while keeping an Occlumency-onslaught at bay.
"I will not say it again, Granger, stand up." He was surprised to find that her voice had taken on a deadly note, much as his did when he was angry – apparently it got the almost desired effect, a small piece of information he stored away for later, her legs quivered heavily, but still she remained seated on the ground.
"Granger…" Pansy drawled, altering her voice and now he was positive that it was his own voice she was imitating and Granger fought, hard, not to stand up. "If I asked you to stand up, it means that you were ordered to, now stand up… or it will be hundred points off Gryffindor…"
The Slytherin circled around the Gryffindor but still Granger would not budge. Finally Pansy looked up, swallowed once and gave Cho an imploring look. "You know… she said it… don't be gentle…"
Cho raised her wand, ever so delicately, her eyes pleading with Granger, who couldn't see her anymore, and whose strain became visible by the perspiration on her temple. "Crucio."
Granger's body convulsed, her back hitting the ground with such an immediate force that he was sure she'd cracked her skull. His fingers twitched beneath his disillusionment, what they were doing was dangerous, too dangerous to even contemplate it, and yet, he marveled at the strength his desirable witch brought to light – she uttered not a word, moved not an inch. Her skin cracked from her overly convulsing muscles.
He knew what the Cruciatus-curse felt like, he knew that it burned like hell and that it would probably have dire consequences for her to have played the curse like this, but as he watched on, her still not moving, he wondered if maybe exactly that had been the target of it all along. Maybe that was exactly what they were preparing for – the worst, because that's what would happen if Voldemort won.
Ten minutes into his musings a desperate, painful cry echoed through the halls of the Room of Requirement, and as quickly as it had come, it ebbed away. Luna hurried to Granger's side, casting a counter-spell he'd seen Poppy use on him more often than not and the witch's twitching stopped. She heaved and coughed, winced even, but he was proud to see that she did not start to vomit.
"It's alright, Hermione, it's alright… It's alright."
Hermione – he smiled, so that was her name. Luna was still bent over her, a strange purple glow emitting from her wand, while Hermione, still on the ground, eased into relaxation.
Pansy pulled Hermione's hair out of her face, gently stroking over it, while she cooed at her and Cho gently massaged her sore muscles. It was, in effect, a rather thorough caring-for, just immediately after they had put her through torture.
"Bed, please." The curly-haired witch croaked and gently she was lifted, carried to a bed not far away from him. Luna placed herself on the bed, before Hermione was lowered into her arms and relieved of her shoes. The girls placed themselves around their victim. Snape watched.
He'd suspected there to be some kind of… bond amongst the four of them. He'd just never expected to find such an extraordinary phenomenon within the walls of Hogwarts.
As he stepped out of the Room of Requirement, he thought of what he had witnessed today. It was a dueling club, and it was more than that, for surely those four witches were each other's best friends – they were the ones they could rely on, in every matter as it appeared. It surprised him not, after what he had seen, that they had followed Potter the last year to the graveyard in Godric's Hollow, and neither did it surprise him that wherever Potter went, Granger would be his guarding shadow.
She had potential and power, and if she was able to withstand an onslaught of a kind that truly only Voldemort would think of, then who would be better adapted to the job of guardian than her?
There was, however, another matter entirely, and that had very little… or little… to do with the fact that she was strong. He liked strong women a lot, but she was sixteen, hardly a woman. Yet, she showed strength and maturity and coupled with her awakening body, it drew him to her. He liked watching her too much, liked to dismantle her Glamours and see her work in his classroom, he liked to watch her as she slept in the library and oh dear lord if that display of strength just hadn't just given him the weirdest turn-on.
"I will continue to train with you, Potter, if you forward me one promise."
He watched as the young man eyed him warily and suppressed a smirk. Of course it would have been so easy for him to just ask him anything – Potter needed the training lessons. But he was also aware that if he didn't show any discipline, he would never succeed in mastering the art.
"It appears that the reason you have been able to lock me out longer than I expected you to, was none other than Hermes Granger."
Potter was frightened of him now. Snape smirked… maybe he'd hand the brat a copy of a book about Occlumency just so he'd know what exactly one could do with the art… but then he wouldn't be so much fun to mess with.
"Your promise to me shall be to continue your lessons with Granger… and do not tell him I know of his ability."
The boy was obviously relieved as he nodded his head. Snape smirked… this was too great, he had Parcival-Pansy at his hands to tell him about Hermione and now a direct link to the young witch via Potter… If only this blasted war wouldn't come at all.
"Ron, what are you playing at?"
The red-head fumed and jumped up – the whole common room looked at the couple. For sure, even though the school did not know it yet, it was obvious to Gryffindor House that Harry and Ron had a bit more going on than just friendship. "What am I playing at? Nothing! Just you hanging around with that traitor rather than your best friend!"
Fred and George listened carefully, while keeping their heads low. The quarrel had been coming on for a few months now – and apparently this was the lover's quarrel everyone had waited for. It was not Harry's fault from what they could tell, but it was also not Ronald's fault – it was just the wrong time. The twins knew that Harry had been having strange nightmares that left him panting and bleeding sometimes even, screaming his throat raw. Ronald wanted to help, yes, but he did not know how, and Harry had known the one person who would know what to do – actually, it did not take a lot of thinking to realize just who that person was: Hermes Granger was, after all, secret agony aunt of just about everybody. Once he put his mind to the task, he'd solved it rapidly and without a lot of blabla. His solutions were practical and easy and no one ever needed to fear being revealed by the silent student.
"Hermes is not a traitor, Ronald, you of all people should know that – if it wouldn't be for him, you wouldn't still be alive."
Gryffindor dared not to breathe.
It was common knowledge that Hermes Granger had saved Ronald Weasley, but no one ever said it aloud, especially not Harry Potter – at least not until now. It had been obvious that Boy-Wonder had chosen his lover over the brain behind the brawn – at least until now.
"That one time?" Ronald breathed. "That one time when he was useful? That's why you still think you owe him?"
Harry shook his head. "It's not only that one time, Ron. I remind you, first year, we'd have never made it past Fluffy. Second year, I'd have died alone, he took the Basilisk on, Ron. Third year, I'd have been dead if not for him. Fourth year, I wouldn't have been able to get you from under the water if it hadn't been for the gillyweed Hermes stole for me. Better yet: I'd have been dead twice if the dragon had first not directed himself at Hermes and then in Godric's Hollow… they'd have never caught Karkaroff if not for Hermes and his friends."
"Freaks!" Their brother shouted enraged. "All of them! How could you put them over me?! You trust them with whatever your dreams are about, but not me! I have stood at your side time and time again and still you go to them!"
Harry was silent after that, collecting his tools and homework, before he stood, his head down. "I sought them out, because this time around I knew they were the only opportunity. They might be freaks, but they are strong and controlled – and control… is what I need right now."
When he left, the twins ducked even lower into their texts, hoping to not be noticed by either of the younger students. Harry left the common room to go Merlin knew where, while Ronald stomped up to their room. The twins looked at each other; they needed to find Hermes.
This was getting ridiculous. Ronald Bilius Weasley was nothing more but a petulant child that, for once, had not gotten what it wanted for Christmas and was now throwing the temper tantrum on the scale of the Giant Squid when new moon was near. Merlin sometimes she wished she could just hammer some intelligence into his bean brain.
She had tried to talk to him in the halls, but it had all helped nothing. He'd yelled at her, had even gone as far as to publicly denounce her as mudblood and Christ that had hit her right where it hurt. The twins had been trying everything to make her see that not all Weasleys were idiots and while it was nice to have two Weasley brothers present their newest charm on one Malfoy, she also felt sorry for them feeling sorry about their brother. But most of all, the dispute was grating at Potter, was impairing his concentration and his learning effects and that was highly undesirable. She had to set this right and soon.
"Incarcerous." Weasley had hardly entered their dorm, when she shot him down with the spell, pinning him to the door with her ropes. She could only hope that even though Dumbledore had said he'd keep an eye on her wand more often, he would realize this was necessary.
"Silencio." She didn't want him to scream as he surely would have set out to when he'd taken a deep breath – and she wouldn't take any more of his insults, surely not.
"I will talk, Weasley, you will listen." Hermes stood to near the red-haired boy, who glared from under his fringes. "Potter is a walking stick, because he doesn't eat anymore, the shade of his skin rivals the white of Sir Nicholas, because he's stopped sleeping altogether. And do you want to know the reason?" She really didn't care if the brat wanted to know what was happening or not, he'd have to listen anyways – she'd promised to save Potter's hide, but it was easier to protect a young man from a menace such as Voldemort, than to have him eat and sleep when he really didn't want to. "You are the reason. You're making this harder than it is supposed to be. And you're stressing him for no reason at all."
Imitating Snape, she towered over the bound student and glowered at him as she continued. "I am not interested in Potter… not that way, and the reason he's been coming to me for advice, is because people know that we aren't the best of friends. Should I say something… anything, people would not believe me as easily, however, if something should slip over your tongue, any word at all, people would of course take it as a given, Gryffindor knows after all that the two of you are an item. I am the safe route, Weasley, while you are the safe man."
Hermes had no idea if what she'd said made sense to the red-head, but as she stepped back and eased the ties on his body, he said nothing, peacefully letting her leave. It was just as right to her, when he squeezed himself between Harry and her at the table the next day.
Hermione reared up when she heard Potter's scream.
For the safety of Ron's mind and Harry equally, Hermione had taken up her bed in her original dorm room again. Joan had promised to make sure that her books and cauldrons would stay untouched and Peetey had promised to make sure her friends would be informed of her migration.
As she scrambled out of her bed, automatically resetting her Glamours, and hurried towards Harry's bedside, the young man was already up, searching for her. Ron was not far behind, but stayed silent when Boy Wonder clung to Hermes Granger and broke down.
"It's alright, Potter… it's alright…"
Weasley only scrambled up when he finally got the message behind Hermione's pleading looks – comforting was best done by somebody close to the person. Only when Ron had calmed his lover down again, did she dare to pry Harry away from the red-head for a small, private talk.
Harry swallowed when he sat down on the fauteuil in the common room. "It was… was… Ron's father… Mr Weasley… I slithered… I think I was the snake, I was Nagini… and then I found him, struck him… multiple times, he bled, asked me to stop, I attacked again, he bled more and then he stopped struggling… simply lay there, didn't react…"
Hermione listened intently, before taking his hands into hers. "Tell Ron?"
Harry shook his head, his eyes wide. "And say what? I dreamt I attacked your father? No – we finally talk to each other again, I can't do this…" But I have to do something. He didn't need to say it, Hermione understood anyways.
"How about we write a letter to the Weasley family, tell Weasley senior to look out for snakes… wherever he goes, maybe tell him to keep a flask of anti-venom in his pockets as well. Then we wouldn't have to tell Ron and his father's death can be avoided, yes?"
Boy-Wonder nodded.
Snape cursed as he poured yet another vial of anti-venom down the throat of Arthur. Poppy wasn't allowed to heal outside of Hogwarts, even though he was sure that Molly would have rather had Poppy treating her husband than Snape. After all these years that he worked for the Order, she still didn't trust him.
He almost jumped when next to him Potter, Weasley and Granger appeared, two Hogwarts' elves holding their hands.
"Dad!"
Granger was quicker than Weasley though and held him back. It caused him a fist to the jaw and an elbow into the ribs, but Granger held; she breathed heavily. "Wait until the potion is down his throat, Weasley, or it will have no effect at all." The struggle ceased almost immediately and his student opted instead to hurry over to his mother.
Potter was rooted to the spot, silently watching the hardly breathing figure of Arthur Weasley. The potion went down the throat – he watched the slight rose glimmer vanish in his throat and dissolve into nothingness. While he said nothing, Granger gasped, biting her lip almost immediately when she noticed her fault – the whole family stared at her.
"What about extraction, sir?" she finally asked – he glared at her.
"I have thought about it, Mister Granger, but my healing abilities only go that far, I'd need another wizard to help." He was desperate for anything at this point – Nagini's poison was dangerous to any living creature and St. Mungo's could not be called – if Weasley survived this night, he'd be kept a secret, simply to be able to surprise Voldemort at the right time.
In his dark mood he had not realized that she had positioned herself right opposite of him, only when her wand raised to his eye-height did he realize her intentions. "Mister Granger, step back, I have no time for children's games…"
"And neither does Mister Weasley. No matter how many more potions you'll pour down his throat, they will have as much effect as the last one. Extraction is a possibility to save his life. Now, sir, on the danger of Gryffindor losing more house points than we might ever recover: raise your wand to mine."
She had given him an order!
His mind reeled for the split of a second, torn between ignoring her command and continuing his treatment and listening to her. His wand decided for him – his tip was raised to hers, before he had consciously made a decision.
Their magic connected as if on cue, as if they had done this a thousand times already and this was just another round – the silent hum of their combined powers filled the air as they put their hands to the biggest wounds that perforated the pale corpus of Arthur. The first effect was almost immediate.
A white dome of magic appeared over the patient's body and while they had to wait a minute for the next proof of success, it did happen. He heard sizzling as the venom dropped out of the closing wounds, and as if a Phoenix had cried over the wounds, they closed with little more than a small scar. Her magic felt like water washing over him and he wondered if she could feel his magic, and what it felt like. Arthur's breathing returned to normal, and when the last wound was finally closed, they broke their wand connection.
She shook on her legs, not used to the extra strain such kind of healing magic put on a wizard – or a witch for that matter – and fell to her knees, regaining her wits only mere moments after her knees had hit the ground. A groan followed and she raised herself again, looking at him.
He was checking Arthur. His complexion was still pale, but his breathing was normal and his wounds were closed – and upon a quickly cast check-up spell, he found that none of the venom could still be found in the body. He nodded, before he turned to the Weasley family.
"You can speak of luck that Granger appeared, Arthur will make it."
"But he survived did he not?!"
"YEAH!" Ron bellowed. "NO THANKS TO YOU, YOU BLOODY TRAITOR! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME! THAT WAS MY FATHER AFTER ALL, WHO ALMOST DIED! I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF MAGIC HE AND SNAPE EVOKED!"
The twins guiltily watched as Hermes' bushy hair vanished behind the next corner again. Things had looked so uppity the last few weeks – and really, would it not have been for Hermes, their dad would have become Snake-fodder. Snape had been at his wits end, the whole family knew that and everyone, save for Ron, was thankful that Hermes had shown up in the moment he had.
It came as a surprise to them that such a young man knew of a poison-extracting spell, but at least two wizards had – better than none; and it had saved Dad's life. Now as they listened to Ron publicly denouncing Harry – essentially breaking up with him – they watched the corner behind which Hermes had hid.
They needed to make it up again, needed to make it up to Hermes – if not for him, however ungrateful Ronald was – Dad would be dead, and no charm on Malfoy and not even the Marauder's Map made up for such a debt.
*No offense.
There you go. I hope this sated your appetite somewhat until we can continue with the really heartbreaking stuff
