Chapter 27
She had been summoned soon after leaving the Hospital Wing. It wasn't a surprise since she knew Professor Snape had gone to Voldemort, but it filled her with mortification and dread. Mortification, because she was walking to class with Malfoy and had needed to let him know what was happening. She hated doing that to him – he always looked at her with the most profound pity. Dread, however, came because at the end of the sudden sucking journey by her collar, she would be facing the Dark Lord who was fathering her first children.
She had been summoned to their rooms again. He in his usual evening chair, looking at where she'd appeared with a decidedly impassive look on his face. He knew. She knew he knew. So why he wouldn't speak and simply looked at her, up and down until it unnerved her completely, was inexplicable.
"Professor Snape spoke with you?" she asked timidly.
Voldemort did not answer as she hoped and motioned to the silver tea service, anticipating her making tea as she had many nights in the past. The distraction was welcome, and Hermione set to her task with happiness instead of her usual glare. He had expected it of her since a few nights into their ritual, and at first she had fought it. But when she saw the look of pleasure on his face when he sipped the aromatic blend, she'd relented. As much as she enjoyed making tea for her family, it wasn't something she thought made her any more an equal in his eyes.
Today it was welcome. She touched the goblin silver with her magic, warming it all over carefully before adding the measure of the elegant white tea and jasmine peach blend. She'd learned over the last month that Voldemort didn't care about caffeination because he didn't need it, but preferred to drink the blend for taste and warmth. White tea, flavoured with this or that, was his favourite. She then pulled out her wand and carefully spelled hot water into the silver tea service, making sure it rolled in waves over every side of the expensive teapot.
There was silence as she let the tea steep. Brave enough to face her boggart, but not enough to turn around and face Voldemort, she sat on the ground by the tea service to wait. Not once did she look back at the man behind her.
Finally, once the charmed teapot let out a low hiss telling her it was finished, she set the strainer over the mixed goblin silver and glass teacups and served it. She could not avoid looking at him as she handed him his cup, but she kept her gaze fixed on his hands.
When she turned to collect her own cup, the long slim fingers of Voldemort snatched her wrist, keeping her from her course. She swallowed nervously.
"Look at me, my little witch," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
That was the terrifying part. She upped her Occlumency shields, in case he was tempted to peek, and lifted her gaze slowly to meet his icy blue one. He seemed pleased at her actions and released her.
"Sit with me," he ordered now.
She assumed it was by his feet and nodded, well used to the protocol. She grabbed her teacup and went to sit by his feet, but her placed was occupied by a stool the same height as the seat. It must have, at one point, been a matching footstool. He patted it reassuringly, indicating exactly what she could believe. She was going to be sitting on something beside the floor in his chambers.
Answering her unanswered question, he replied, "I would provide you with your own chair, however I enjoy our nightly ritual too much to allow such distance."
She nodded, not trusting her voice, and sat on the comfortable stool by his knee.
"Does it please you?" he murmured in her ear, now that he had her close. "Would you prefer your own chair?"
Hermione shivered. "No. I … this is very nice."
"Then we have some things to discuss," he asserted, sitting back in his seat. Hermione turned to look at him, feeling bereft of his proximity. His eyes glittered in delight at her, and she cursed herself for being so easy to read. "Are you able to tell me, yourself, what has occurred?"
"You already know," Hermione murmured.
He looked at her with an amused shake of his head. "I do, but that does not mean I do not want to hear it from your lips in greater detail. Tell me, my witch. I will not be upset."
"I know that, now," she admitted hesitantly. "But … it's not … I-I'm still afraid."
She looked down, ashamed, until she felt his cool hands lifting her face to his gaze. He looked . . . kind. Maybe not, it was not the right word for him. Draco was kind, Voldemort was more . . . feeling benevolent.
"Are you with child?" Voldemort asked.
Hermione nodded, teary at the words. "Two."
His face finally broke from its prepared façade, now rippling with shock. He gaped.
"They're twins," Hermione admitted, wrapping a hand around her abdomen as if she could feel them. As if they could strengthen her. "Madame Pomphrey could tell me that much, although it's still way too early to tell the gender. I'm only seven weeks along. If I had to guess-"
"That would make it the day of the bonding," Voldemort interjected, now able to speak, eyes focusing on her. "It is magic. That is the only explanation, for the conception, for the twins. . . Old magic has gifted us with a most precious reward."
Those words he said reverently, moving his hands from her face to travel down her body, coming to rest with her hand on her abdomen. Hermione could not believe the tenderness in his movements, the happiness that was expressed on his normally passive or angry face. He'd said it was for us. Them. Did that mean…?
"Is it acceptable to you to carry my heirs, little witch?" Voldemort murmured, caressing her abdomen in a nearly intimate gesture. "I cannot allow you to harm them. They are mine."
"I want them," Hermione insisted, placing her hand over Voldemort's on her abdomen. "I do."
"Excellent."
He continued to look at her stomach, as if he couldn't believe they were in there. Hermione saw a tenderness to him she could learn to enjoy, but … she needed more reassurance.
"You'll let me keep them, won't you?" Hermione choked out, unable to suppress her fears. "You won't take them away from me?"
She say him stiffen before looking back up to her face from her abdomen.
"I would not take them from you unless you gave me no other choice," he promised, simultaneously warning her. "Do not try to take them from me, and I will not take them from you. Agreed?"
She sank into his touch, gripping his upper arms in relief and stress now replaced with a heady gratitude. "Yes, yes, thank you."
Voldemort lifted her into his arms further, the tea now abandoned on the side table in favour of holding her curled form against his chest. She sighed into his neck, breathing in the scents that told her exactly who was holding her. She loved the way he smelled.
"I will be a father," he murmured in her ear, sharing it with her. "A father of twins. It surprises me how much pleasure that simple phrase brings me."
Hermione was happy. Happy to sit here, to have him murmur assurances and feelings into her ear. But it was marred by a horrible thought, and one she could not get rid of.
"Will you love them?" Voldemort stiffened under her words, suddenly off-kilter and inapproachable. She grabbed at the front of his robes, burying her face into them as if she could hide from how uncertain he seemed at such a necessary, normal thing – loving one's children. "Can you?"
Maybe he could. Hermione knew, if his soul could have been repaired with his body, he should be able to love them. If he could only try . . . Maybe, maybe everything could be alright. The war would end, she would raise her children free of pureblood prejudice, and … maybe, just maybe, she could be happy being bound to him.
"You know my feelings on love, Miss Granger," he said stiffly. "It is useless and distracting. Our children will want for nothing, and that is all that matters."
"They'll want their father to love them," Hermione pushed, fixing her eyes on his. "It's so important to children that they feel loved, wanted."
"They will undoubtedly have their mother and her Gryffindor sensibilities for that," he said stiffly. "I have no use for the sentiment."
She recoiled from his as if she'd been hit. Her heart pounded and hammered, and for a moment she felt like she'd be sick.
"I-I need to…" She left his lap quickly and ran to the lavatory, ignoring his shouts of 'Miss Granger?!' and warding the door so he wouldn't come in. He'd taught her that much.
Alone, in the security of the restroom, she paused. What had brought on such an intense reaction? It wasn't for the children, because she already planned on being the one providing the love in raising them. So why did she feel as if she'd been punched in the stomach?
The realization hit her hard. It was the same feeling she'd had watching Ron snog Lavender in the common room days only after she'd learned he liked her; it was the realization that he'd never love her, only much, much more intense, more real. And now, she realized with terror, she'd done the unthinkable.
She'd fallen in love with the Dark Lord.
Tears came unbidden and she shed them over the vanity unrestrainedly. All the guilt she felt with Harry, Dumbledore, the Order … she thought it was because she was simply attracted to the enemy. Now, she realized it was because she'd been falling for him. Caring for him. Trying to get him to love her.
"Miss Granger!" he knocked on the door. "Are you ill?"
"Leave me alone!"
The knocking stopped, and Hermione strained to hear his reaction. Would she throw him into one of his violent moods, the ones that ended in her killing Dolohov, or tortured at the hands of Bellatrix? Or would he stay as benevolent as he had been so far that night and leave her be?
Finally, she heard his voice come low through the door. "Miss Granger, please, come out."
She couldn't reply. For once, he'd asked kindly instead of bashing through the door. Did he know, already, what she had only just figured out? Did he know she was in love with him? Did he laugh about it, did it bring him glee to think he'd pulled one over on the publicly dubbed Gryffindor princess?
"I don't understand what upset you," he called through the door, "but I swear, I will care for them with everything I can, as I care for you. Up to my own life, I will spare nothing. I can give you my word that they are most certainly wanted."
It was foolish how reassured she was by the simple knowledge that he had admitted, for only the second time, that he cared for her. And reassured as she was that he'd repeated the sentiment he expressed nearly every night while inside her, that he wanted her, and them. It was enough to calm her raging heart so she could face him. She moved to the door and let down her wards before opening the door.
The second she'd opened it, Voldemort grabbed her and pinned her to the nearest wall, his face rife with restraint. "Do not hide from me again, little witch."
"As if I could," she quipped bitterly. "You can still get through all of my shields and wards, not matter what I do."
He smirked down at her. "I believe this is an excellent position for the remainder of our … negotiations? We have a few more things to address."
Hermione disagreed. She could barely focus with his hips against hers, and it would mean unfair advantage for him.
"What else is there?" Hermione asked, instead of protesting.
"Your schooling," he said. "You will not return to Hogwarts."
"What?!" Hermione shrieked. "No, no, no. I love Hogwarts, I don't want to leave it."
She needed her time at the school; it was the only thing that kept her sane! It was the part of her life that felt almost normal, with friends and homework to distract her from her situation in the war and the uncertainty of her future.
Speaking of her future, he leaned closer to her so his mouth was inches from hers, tantalizingly and distractingly close. "I can provide you with tutors and instructors for the subjects that matter, like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. You will need comfort, though, and rest. Birthing two children is no easy task."
"I can manage," she said, her voice sounding less strong and more like a whimper at his closeness. "I'll only be six months along when school ends."
"Six months along with twins," he reminded her. "I will not have you, and thus them, vulnerable. I have too many enemies for you to leave my presence thus debilitated."
The challenge to her skill was a swipe to her Gryffindor spirit. She raised her chin defiantly, but it only served to give him access to her neck. She whimpered. "I am far from weak."
"I never said you were," he said graciously, although there was a glint in his eye that said he was placating her. "However, after a few months, you will be larger and less … agile. I would not expect you to take on multiple opponents while heavily pregnant."
"I don't see a problem," she moaned as he ground against her. "P-Professor Snape, he's at the school."
He pulled away from her, his face scowling. "You certainly can ruin the mood. Please refrain from mentioning another man's name while I'm seducing you."
"He can protect me while I'm at school, that's all," Hermione defended hastily. "You know he's a friend of mine."
His scowl didn't diminish. "Only because you believe him a spy for your side."
"And you believe he's a spy for yours," Hermione noted calmly.
"Which he is," Voldemort finished.
Hermione grinned. "Then trust that he will protect me." Before he could protest, Hermione quickly switched gears. "What else did you want me to foolishly agree to?"
He smirked. "Are you proposing to buy your return to Hogwarts by giving me something else I want, dear witch? It would be very Slytherin of you. However, I have a better idea."
He pulled out his wand and summoned Nagini from wherever he had been before bending down and stroking the snake that had become a pet to Hermione. "If you insist on returning to Hogwarts, you will take Nagini with you."
Hermione gaped. "You want me to take a giant snake to a school that was terrorized by basilisk only a few years ago? Are you insane? What if she causes a panic, what if she bites someone?"
"Nagini will be tasked with defending you," Voldemort hushed her concerns. "And, while venomous, I'm certain Madame Pomphrey can create an anti-venom if you deem fit to order Nagini to provide a sample of her own. Not that your attackers would deserve that mercy."
Hermione could see how determined he was. "What if someone attacks her?"
"It won't be an issue," Voldemort waved away her concern. "I've been rubbing potions in her scales and feeding them to her since she was a hatchling, and she is, now, mostly resistant to any offensive magic. Now, do you agree?"
Hermione hesitated. "Nagini is kind of big to be coming to classes with me."
Voldemort grinned devilishly. With a wave of his wand, Nagini was the size of a regular rattlesnake, not a giant anaconda. "How's this? You could carry my familiar on your shoulders now without a problem."
Nagini hissed at her master, presumably over being reduced to a small snake. Voldemort hissed in reply, pointing at Hermione as he did. Nagini tilted her head towards her, before giving a hiss in reply.
Voldemort laughed. "He wanted to make sure you know that if anything happens, just cast finite on her and she'll be full-sized again.
Nagini hissed happily and with a nod, Voldemort turned her back to full-sized.
"Do you agree, pet?" Voldemort asked her, motioning to Nagini. "She is a wonderful nurse-maid as well, after they are born."
Hermione bit her lip nervously. "I-I oh! Fine, but I'm telling Professor Snape about her, and I'm having him extract venom before anyone gets bit."
That made Voldemort happy. He pulled Hermione flush against his body and, with a kiss, apparated her up higher into the Sayre estate, one of the top floors. It was a larger room, much bigger than the one he had put her in previously. Hermione looked around, disoriented.
"Why are we here?" she asked.
Voldemort motioned to it, grandly. "Our new quarters, my Lady."
"Did we need new ones?" Hermione asked, confused.
Voldemort only smiled and led her to a door with a smile. "Let me show you."
He pulled her out into a hallway that led to a giant, spacious area with couches, and the like, and then into the side room. What greeted her was a room with one large, antique-looking crib, colourful walls, and a fully matching set of furniture. He'd created a nursery.
"I had the elves get the family wing together the moment Severus told me," he whispered in her ear, and Hermione let herself believe it was lovingly. "I want them close-by."
"Then can we?" Hermione asked. "Can we put the crib in the bedroom, at least until they can sleep through the night?"
Voldemort smiled down at her and pulled her into a passionate kiss. It stole Hermione's breath away. When he let his lips leave hers, he murmured, "I am so glad you are not a pureblood witch."
Hermione frowned. "What does that mean?"
He chuckled at her indignation. "Nothing unseemly, sweetling. Only that those born with status were often raised by house-elves, and would rather keep that tradition for their children. But you … you want them close-by. You intend to raise them yourself."
"Of course I do," Hermione defended needlessly. "They need more than a nurse, they need a-"
Hermione stopped. She couldn't bring herself to call them a family, even if that is what she wanted. What she felt they needed.
"A mother?" Voldemort guessed, completely off-base. "Do not worry, little witch. Young as you are, you have more power and sense than many I could name; you will be a wonderful mother to our children."
He kissed her, soothing and soft against her lips. Try as she might to resist the intimact, Hermione broke and pulled him to her passionately, desperate to take advantage of the little affection the Dark Lord had for her, desperate to feel that little bit he could provide. He was the father of the children inside of her, and she needed to feel him care for her like he would them.
They'd break in the new bed another day, for now the floor would have to do.
After a love-making session, Hermione convinced Voldemort to let her return to the school. He shrunk Nagini down and placed her along Hermione's shoulders. With a passionate kiss that probably left her mouth red and puffy for all to see, he let her go.
She apparated directly to the maintenance closet just inside the Gryffindor common room. She needed to tell Harry what had happened, and before he heard it from either Dumbledore or a random Death Eater. Straightening up and trying not to look thoroughly snogged, she opened the closet and stepped into the common room.
The few people who were in there froze as they saw her, and Nagini around her neck, step into their domain. She wasn't in Slytherin clothes anymore, but she could feel it on her as if it were tattooed across her chest. Harry was on the couch with Ron and Ginny, and she walked up to them with determination and a raised chin.
"'Mione, what-?" Harry looked at the snake around her neck and hissed. Nagini hissed back, stretching out its fangs. They engaged like that for a long time, until, finally, Nagini hissed and slithered around Hermione's neck protectively. Harry looked disturbed.
Before he could comment, she attacked first. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't have something important, Harry. I need to speak with you."
"What am I?" Ron huffed jokingly. "We'll come, 'Mione."
Ginny looked slightly ill. "You'll keep it away from us, right?"
"Sorry about her," Hermione apologized, leading the group towards the Portrait hole. "She's my, er, babysitter, I guess."
"'Mione, is that . . . Nagini?" Harry croaked, obviously still unnerved.
Hermione grimaced. "Voldemort trusts her to protect me, even shrunk."
"THAT is the snake that attacked our dad?" Ron gasped. "What's it doing around your neck?"
"I didn't have much of a choice," Hermione told them, pulling them from the portrait. "Come on, this is something I can't have spread around. To the Room?"
They followed her up to the Room on Requirement with little discussion, although Ron and Ginny kept a little away from her because of Nagini. Harry was broody, obviously worried about what was coming. She paced outside the Room carefully. 'I need a private place to share secrets.' The Room provided her with a cozy replica of the Gryffindor Common Room, but with a cushion in front of the fire for Nagini. She took the snake from around her neck and placed her on the pillow before sitting down with her friends.
They all stared at her as if she'd grown three heads.
"I'm fairly confident I can keep Voldemort out of my head now," she started, seeing the worry on everyone's faces. "Just in case, please don't tell me anything about the Order or anything relating to it. I'm sorry for disobeying Dumbledore, but I-I had to talk to you guys. I need to tell you something before it comes out."
She was suddenly more worried about this than anything else. She looked pleadingly at Harry. "Please, please, tell me I can count on you to help me."
"Always," Ginny promised, coming close and grabbing her hands. "Hey, we never gave up on being your friends, 'Mione. Right guys?"
"Right!" Ron cheered.
"Absolutely," Harry said intensely.
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, willing the lump to stay instead of turning into tears. "Thank you."
It was a hard thing to do, to admit to her friends what had happened. It was easier with Malfoy. It was easier without worrying about the judgement her state would bring. It was easier than wondering if she'd changed so much that she really was a monster for being alright and – dare she say – excited to have children. She decided to get it out quickly so the words didn't get caught.
"I'm pregnant."
There was silence. They stared at her in disbelief. Finally, Ron broke the silence with a short, disbelieving snort. "Sorry, 'Mione, I must have heard wrong. I thought you said you were pregnant. Ha!"
He laughed, but no one joined him. Harry looked at her with the darkest look she'd ever seen. Ginny looked sick.
"I'm having twins," Hermione announced feebly, as if that made her news better. "Dumbledore knows. I'm due at end of August, but with twins they'll probably come early."
Ron's laughing grin faded into a, "Merlin, you're serious."
Hermione just nodded, tears now streaming. She couldn't look away from Harry, who had averted his gaze to the snake just by the fire.
"Harry, I'm so sorry," were the only words Hermione could say. "I'm so, so sorry."
"It-It wasn't your fault," Ginny reassured her haltingly, looking between her and Harry rapidly. "R-right Harry? We know it wasn't 'Mione's fault, yeah?"
Harry was quiet. Then, with a dark voice, he only whispered, "I'll kill him."
Hermione's heart sank. "Harry, please, look at me."
He looked at her, but his eyes were focused on his hatred for Voldemort. She flinched.
"I'm your friend Harry," she promised, her own words feeling guilt-laden. "I'm not some victim for you to avenge."
"You're really pregnant?" Ron gaped.
Ginny smacked him. "Yes, she is, Ron! Keep up!"
Harry just swallowed, finally losing the dark look in his eyes and just looking at her sadly. She rose from her seat and knelt in front of Harry to grab his hands. "Harry, really, it's okay. I'm not-I can't be too upset about this."
He grabbed her hands tightly, his green eyes burrowing into hers.
"'Mione, you are carrying Voldemort's children!" he cried out. "And you're okay with this?"
She frowned at her friend. "I'm not … I didn't want to be, but … I guess, this is how it is. I'm not going to change it, so I have to accept it."
"Does he know?" Ron asked from the sidelines.
Hermione nodded, lost in the agony of her green-eyed friend before her.
"Well?" Ginny asked. "How did he take it? Or did he do it on purpose?"
"It wasn't planned," Hermione told them carefully. "But he … seemed pleased."
He'd been ecstatic, but they didn't need to know that. Harry's fisted clenched around hers.
"Of course he was," Harry spat, his anger rolling off him in waves. "How much more could he claim you? First he kidnapped you, then bound you, then he collared you, and now ... I didn't think I could hate him any more."
"Harry, please, I-I don't want you guys to think they'll be just like him," she pleaded. "I'll be raising them, he promised me that. He won't try to take them away from me. If he does, I'll give them to the Order, hide them until the end of the war. But my children are not going to be dark."
"Of course not," Ginny sank to her knees next to Hermione, clasping her friend tight in her grasp. "And we'll support you. Right guys?"
Ron shook himself out of his haze. "Yeah, yeah, of course. If You-Know-Who's pleased, we'll just have to stop it. I'm sure we can convince Professor Snape-"
"No!" Hermione stopped him, her eyes flicking over to Nagini. The snake wasn't coiled to strike, but it's eyes were fixed on Ron. "I'm not getting rid of them, Ron. I'm having the twins."
"Have the Twins?" Ginny joked, trying to lift the mood. "The world can only handle one Fred and George, you know."
"This isn't funny!" Harry roared at her.
Silence.
"Ginny-" Harry whispered penitently.
She waved her hand. "No, Harry. You're right, it isn't funny. But it's Hermione, so we have to buck up and look out for her. So stop looking like you'll murder her and comfort you friend!"
He looked ashamed, but obediently turned to Hermione and gave her a small smile. "We're here for you. I promise, 'Mione, you don't have to do this alone."
She felt her eyes water. "I don't know when I'll spend time with you again, but hopefully I'll master my Occlumency soon. I want my best friends back."
They parted ways after that. Hermione knew, as they did, that if she stayed they would start talking about what was happening in their lives, and they couldn't risk it. Hermione made her way down to the dungeons with Nagini.
Snape was scowling at the papers on his desk when she entered. Probably grading, she surmised. When he looked up at her, his scowl lightened and he gave her his nod of greeting before he focused his gaze on the snake around her neck.
"Something you wish to share, Miss Granger?" he asked firmly.
"I believe you already know Nagini," she introduced the snake around her neck. "Apparently, I'm going to become slow and sluggish in pregnancy and Nagini is supposed to protect me. I wanted to make sure you had the chance to extract some of her venom in case she bites anyone."
Snape put down his quill deliberately, slowly pushing himself out from his desk. He refused to meet her gaze.
"So," he drawled, "you're being allowed to return."
"I guess so."
She could feel the tension between them. She wanted to talk to him as the mentor/friend she'd come to rely on, but she knew he was angry at her. Angry at the children in her stomach. And the talk they were going to have couldn't be in front of Nagini.
She took the snake gently from her neck where she was coil and moved to the lab. "Nagini, I need a private word with my Potions Professor." At her his, Hermione looked sternly down at the snake. "If you don't behave, I won't return you to your normal for the venom extraction." Then, gentler, she set Nagini down on the table and stroked her. "I promise, Professor Snape would never hurt me. Besides, he works for your Master; you should be able to trust him."
Nagini hissed but coiled deferentially into her resting pose. Hermione took that as acceptance and thanked the snake familiar before heading back into Snape's office where her mentor was waiting, leaning against the desk. He threw his wand around in a large arc, obviously to silence the room from Nagini. Then he stared. Just stared.
"You know we need to talk," Hermione started uncertainly.
Snape sneered. "Oh really, Miss Granger? I don't recall."
"Professor, I know I disappointed you, but I need you," Hermione pleaded.
"If you're looking for advice, I'm afraid you've made it clear you don't value mine," he snarled. "I have nothing more to say."
Hermione glared. "Severus Tobias Snape, I care about you! One disagreement doesn't change that!"
"Doesn't it?" he hissed, eyes glowing with suppressed emotion. "Everyone around you has told you to get rid of your child, and you are ignoring them – ignoring me – and in so doing, putting yourself in harm's way! Don't you see, you stupid girl? Don't you see I'm trying to protect you?!"
Hermione didn't want to yell anymore. She launched herself at Professor Snape and fastened her arms around his back and held him in a tight hug. His angry rant turned frozen, and he stopped moving entirely with her wrapped around him.
"Miss Granger, what are you doing?" he snipped roughly.
She squeezed tightly. "Hugging you, Professor. I-I know you're trying to protect me. I know I'm being foolish by keeping them. Please, please don't turn me away."
There was a pause. "Them?"
Hermione looked up at his face, assessing the stiff expression.
"You didn't stay for the tests," she murmured as gently as she could, terrified of angering him again. "I'm having twins."
If possible, he grew even more stiff. Hermione's eyes watched as his face became stony, pale, and drawn in shock. After a few moment of silence, he looked down at her, something indiscernible in his eyes.
"I suppose there's even less chance of you taking the potion now?" he asked lightly, his dark words not reaching his tone. Hermione shook her head. At that, Snape gave her the briefest of smiles. "Then I suppose you will need my help, Miss Granger."
The teacher and student embraced in what could only be called a comforting embrace. He rested his head on hers just like her father did, making her feel at small and at the same time profoundly secure.
"Now," Snape cleared his throat, "why did you bring the Dark Lord's familiar to Hogwarts?"
After explaining the situation, the worked to extract as much venom as Nagini would allow before separating. Severus went to Dumbledore to receive approval for her unusual situation. Hermione apparated back to Sayre Mansion and promptly fell into bed, exhausted from the emotional, busy day she'd had.
