She was already late for Charms and had to take one of the seats in the back row, staying there alone, blissfully ignored by her classmates. Either their adventure had not reached too many ears, or, which was sadly more likely, Squad members had already bullied the few witnesses like Luna and Neville into silence about their defeat. When they headed for Transfigurations, Harry joined her, much to her surprise, without Ron in tow.
"Where -?"
"What d'you think?", Harry replied, mustering her intensely. "You look – awful."
"I've had – it's been – Harry, nothing could have prepared me for this kind of magic." They occupied the last bench, leaving several empty, but McGonagall deliberately overlooked them, Hermione filling Harry in through their entire lecture.
"Wait – I've seen Ginny, she was at breakfast this morning -"
"That's the – er – original. Her copies lie in the hospital wing. Ron shouldn't have gone. I hope Madam Pomfrey doesn't let him in."
"So Malfoy ambushed you? Again?"
"Guess he was listening at dinner", Hermione said bitterly, the connection forming in her mind just yet.
"Why were you with McGonagall on Sunday in the first place, anyway?"
"I've had to tell her -"
"The timetables I've handed you", their head of house raised her voice so that it reached even Harry and Hermione in their remote seats, "Show you the precise time and date for the subjects you take exams in. Notice that the theoretical part takes place on morning, with and hour lunch break, after which you will be called to give a demonstration of your practical abilities. You should all be off by four, except for Wednesday, of course, when Astronomy is scheduled. Please leave a copy of your timetables with any person whom you have obligations to."
"She could have given a hint that I'm at Poppy's mercy for now", Hermione whispered dryly. She felt grateful to witness her teacher in the well-known, sternly benevolent manner as usual, for her plea still rung in her ears.
"Ah, I don't know, perhaps the insinuation was just too subtle and we missed it", Harry replied, oblivious to her musings. "So let me get this straight: You're supposed to assist her two times a day? For hours?"
"Yes. Until – well – last Ginny has died."
"That's one bloody business you got into."
"Thanks for pointing it out. I wouldn't have noticed", Hermione noticed his blank expression and decided not to push him too far into rough waters of sarcasm.
"Any idea what happened last night?"
"Er – I just told you, didn't I?", she replied, slightly confused. "We were cornered by -"
"I mean, magically. When your spell melted with Notts, why wouldn't the copies bear the same injuries? Why did they come out – well – disabled like this?"
"I haven't thought it through, Harry", she lied. "Dark Magic like this is not my area of expertise." Truth was, with a little distance, an understanding had come to her in the low light of her four-poster bed last night, sneaking up at her like predator, and sunk sharp claws of sudden realization into her: The copies of her friend all resembled her state of mind at some point in the fight. She had mustered considerable strength not to wake Parvati or Lavender with a desperate cry: Making Ginny turn a blind eye on her dealings with Snape had caused this.
"Well, since messed up Multiplying Charms will hardly be the topic of any available essay in the library... there is someone in this castle who has expertise in Dark Magic", Harry whispered, making no effort in hiding that he watched her expression closely.
"That's not an option."
"How come?", he inquired. "You've spent so much time together, Ron and I wrestled our way through History of Magic all on our own -"
" - that's not my responsibility, it wouldn't hurt you, to -
" - we've barely seen you late in the common room since Christmas. Don't tell me you've been in the library all the time."
She dared not to disagree, or lie bluntly to his face again.
"And now, faced with an issue perfectly suited to quiz him about, you're unwilling to bring it up?", Harry asked, one eyebrow raised.
What was happening with her, with the people around her, here at Hogwarts? Had Harry just lobbied for his most loathed teacher by far? To make her seek this very teachers company, due to a most remote chance that he knew what she had brought upon a girl who, in her time at Hogwarts, suffered enough from Dark Magic already?
"I've still got OWLs to pass", she evaded his inquiry, waving the timetable. "Can't get involved with Snape further, now, can I, not with my hospital duties on top of everything."
"I did not say you should sneak into the dungeons late", Harry corrected her, "But he's a regular guest in the infirmary, isn't he?"
"Yes. I hadn't thought of that."
"So, if you're stuck with Madam Pomfrey anyway", Harry spoke slowly, much less concerned for McGonagall to hear them, but choosing his words carefully, "What would it hurt to squeeze some information out of the git? At the proper occasion?"
"It's not that easy", she replied, almost laughing at the ridiculous suggestion. "And what do you mean by 'proper occasion'?"
"Hm, getting close enough to make him tell you what you want to know would require a certain … proximity, wouldn't it?"
"Meaning?"
"That depends on your shared understanding of acceptable propriety, doesn't it?", Harry stuck with his vague responses. "Hermione, you made me draw his attention by unbuttoning your blouse. Do you seriously expect me to ask for details?"
She remained silent after this for quite a while, distracted from the heavy implications only by McGonagalls stern elaborations. Regarding school matters, it seemed to Hermione, she and everyone else around her knew what they had to do, how to address the situation at hand – even if it involved outrageous cruelty, like Umbridge's methods, or the hidden malicious dealings of the Death Eaters she had overheard. When the Dark Side had begun to rise in Hogwarts, she had found herself dead certain about what to do, and Harry's teachings had indeed made her feel prepared for whatever awaited them outside Hogwarts. Then, approaching Snape, she had walked in dangerous waters, but those had been the depths of her own psyche, her own clear, easily manageable emotions – or that had been their state, before she stepped into his mind, getting closer than ever expected. Before his lips had brushed hers. Before she had heard him admit that this was, inadvertently, personal. Had this been the point where she should have stopped? Returned to the library for diligent studying, until she forgot about the incident, and the fiery, raging emotions whenever she thought of that taste of smoke and honey on her lips, had simply died away?
"That's the bell", Harry said, correctly guessing about her lack of attention to her surroundings. He waited until she had packed her books neatly into the leather bag and flung it over her shoulder, then offered her to link arms with him. She gratefully wrung her arm around his, it would permit her to get lost in thought while heading for lunch, or crash into any statues or students on the way.
He led her a remote, less crowded passage, with scarcely enough people to be overheard, yet just enough eyes to feel watched, and, in Hermiones case, safe between the naked stone walls.
"You didn't answer my question earlier", Harry reminded her in a low voice.
She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, and focused on the edges of the robes from students walking several feet ahead of them. None of the black coats bore a hint of green.
"No Slytherins around us", Harry calmed her down. "What did you see McGonagall for on Sunday? I thought you had gone to the dungeons again, I saw a figure in black head back to the castle, soon after you joined us on the pitch..."
She told him a very dense, shortened and censured version of Saturday night. Snapes fight with Malfoy ensuing the latter's canny maneuver took her longer, since Harry was as keen as she was to speculate about the fate of Lucrece, and what 'family matters' Snape had been involved in.
"And you have no idea what they plan for him the weekend he's leaving for home?"
"No idea", she assured him, truthfully this time. "But I doubt it's an early birthday surprise party."
The revelations about the Death Eaters plot and Umbridge's carte blanché over Snape seemed to shock him less, but they agreed on its grave implications.
"I am wondering", he mused after a while, checking for about the tenth time if someone could hear the, "Whether Umbridge is aware of the extend of her leverage."
"She might have used it already", Hermione said, "By setting his priorities. When I woke up, I heard her tell McGonagall that he wasn't available for Ginny's care."
"Maybe she'll leave it at passive-aggressive moves", Harry whispered.
"Maybe", Hermione added, but his expression told her that he did not believe in the idea, either.
"And you're sure that it was Bellatrix Lestrange, in the background at Malfoy's?"
"Yes, why?"
"Well, if it had been any other Death Eater, I'd guess they were boasting in front of Snape, but Bellatrix is up rather high among their ranks, isn't she?", Harry got dangerously close to the issue Hermione had carefully cut from her summary. "She's accepted imprisonment rather than defy her allegiance. Always been intensely devoted to Voldemort. If he has a plan of whatever sort, he might have actually let her in on it."
"She was send to Azkaban not because of him, but what she did to Neville's parents", Hermione reminded him, fuming.
"Besides, what were they planning?", Harry inquired, but Hermione hesitated. She knew he had hesitated to inform them about Voldemort targeting him, especially during last year on the way to his full corporeal form, to find her and Ron urging him to trust them. She know felt a ridiculously similar wish to conceal her insights, but brought herself to overcome them. "They weren't clear on that, not even to Snape", she whispered unwillingly. "But from what I heard … You-Know-Who has figured out a way to get to you."
"Get to me, how?", he inquired, muss less shocked than she had expected.
"I don't know. I'm not even sure whether he's planning on actually attacking you by any means... those were insinuations, Harry, nothing explicit. And even with Snape in Umbridge's hands, he won't compromise the castles security, not without warning Dumbledore in time."
"Perhaps Dumbledore is wrong in trusting Snape -"
"It all comes down to that question, doesn't it?", Hermione rushed over him, hardly hiding her impatience. "Has it occurred to you that not Snape might be the weakest link in the chain of people trying to keep you safe?"
"But?"
"But your lack of faith in Dumbledore's judgment? His reasons to trust Snape, even if none of us do?"
They had reached a dead end in their conversation, and were aware of it. Harry led her to lunch, where they were joined by a seriously outraged Ron, who had indeed not been allowed to visit the Hospital wing. Hermione felt a certain lump rise in her throat again while he ranted about Madam Pomfrey's overly cautious and belittling attitude, but busying herself with calming Ron down distracted her not enough to overlook that Harry did not speak to her through the entire meal.