Hogwarts without Ron and Harry was dull and lifeless.
Everywhere Hermione went she was chased by memories of their smiles and laughter.
She knew returning without them would be difficult. Realistically, she knew things wouldn't feel the same, but she hadn't been prepared for just how painful life would be.
Wiping her parents' memories and sending them away had caused a thread to become loosened. With every passing day the thread slowly unravelled. No matter how much it had been the right thing to do, every morning she still watched the owls swooping low over the breakfast tables and half-hoped there would be news.
If the loss of her parents had caused a thread to unravel, then being away from Harry and Ron was akin to a seam ripped open inside her. Nothing could compare to the raw grief she felt when she sat down at their favourite spot in the common room, or watched Giant Squid swimming along in the lake. She had lost count of the number of times she had turned to share an exciting fact with them in the library only to remember she was alone.
It was made worse by Snape's presence. He haunted her like a personal ghost, forever passing by her in the corridor or entering her classrooms, his eyes skipping over her as though he was looking right through her. His silence was a cruel reminder of how badly she had messed up— how she had sworn to protect Harry and failed to deliver on that promise. To Snape, to Ron, to herself. How many times had she watched the growing worry and despair on Harry's face only to vow that no matter what, they would always have his back. It was them against the world.
And she had thrown it away for a man who now despised her existence.
As the hills of Scotland turned shades of orange and brown, she tried to make the best of a bad situation. It's what her parents would have done. Her quiet periods alone in the library slowly turned into something more. It started with the fifth and sixth years who found her studying among the stacks and dropped by to ask simple questions for the Transfiguration or Ancient Runes homework. From there it turned into longer sessions on more complex problems in Arthromancy. Before she knew it she was helping first years with their History of Magic essays.
The only subject she refused to help on was Potions. Every time she was asked she would find herself devising an excuse.
Discussing the twelve uses for Dragon blood or shrinking solutions reminded her of Snape and the hours spent under his direction, brewing Potions as a student or later studying healing magic. Most of all it made her mourn the loss of his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. She hadn't realised just how often she would reach for the text, drawing comfort from the familiar handwriting, until it was no longer in her possession.
It was just one more way the universe saw to sever the link between her and her former mentor.
One more excuse to drive Hermione further into herself, embracing the quiet anger that kept her up in the middle of the night.
News of the Carrows' new punishment regime came one afternoon as Hermione came down the marble staircase for lunch. A throng of students were huddled around the bulletin board, nervously whispering at a large piece of parchment which had been tacked there. She instantly had flashbacks to Umbridge's rule in her fifth-year, and dread filled her stomach like led.
She sidled up beside Dean who appeared drawn and tired.
'What's going on?'
Dean glanced down at her and shook his head. 'It's bad, Granger. Did you hear about the third-year Gryffindors who got caught trying to cover Amycus' classroom in dungbombs?'
Yes, she had heard, as well as witnessed the aftermath when McGonagall chewed their ears off in front of the entire common room.
'Well,' Dean continued without waiting for her confirmation, 'it looks like it was the last straw. Apparently by decree of our glorious Headmaster, the deputy Headmaster and Headmistress can now do whatever they want. I think you and I both know what that actually means.'
Her skin prickled with hundreds of tiny needles and she shuddered. 'Harry always said Filch talked about whips and chains in the olden days. You don't think they'd actually—'
'Of course they would,' Dean replied solemnly.
She shouldered her way to the front of the group, and stared up at the familiar handwriting which had become a comfort to her over the summer.
Attention all students and staff:
Rule breaking and mischief causing of any kind will not be tolerated.
Effective immediately, all complaints and detentions will be handled by the Deputy Headmaster and Headmistress. I give them full authority to deliver punishment suitable to the crime.
Should anyone have concerns, they may take it up with me directly.
-Headmaster Severus Snape
'This is bullshit,' she hissed under her breath, causing a nervous looking second-year to squeak in surprise. Anger bubbled inside her and she whirled around, nearly knocking over the same girl in her wake.
Life with the Carrows was already difficult enough. They were oppressive and bullies and just down-right horrible to most students, muggle-born or not. Giving them more power would have disastrous consequences for everyone.
Dean caught her elbow as she pushed past. 'I can't believe I'm about to say this, but whatever you're about to do… maybe just… don't.'
'I'm not doing anything,' she protested, her nostrils flaring.
His eyebrows raised into his hairline. 'Really? Because you look like you're about to go blow up Snape's office.'
She gave a short, sharp laugh. 'Well I do have a reputation to uphold.'
'Hermione…'
She sighed, counting backwards from ten in her head. Blowing up Snape's office did sound rather appealing.
It definitely wouldn't be the first time, either. Not that Dean needed to know that.
'Relax,' she assured him, offering a small smile. 'I'm only going to the library.'
She watched him assess her carefully before he dropped her arm. 'We can't let them win,' he said. 'But we gotta be smart. It's what Harry would have wanted.'
Her breath hitched and she pressed a hand to her chest against the growing ache. 'Yeah.'
Harry's glowing face, his green eyes eager and hopeful, followed her up to the library.
What Harry would have wanted was to have both of his best friends by his side as he journeyed through Great Britain looking for the shards of Voldemort's soul. He would have wanted her companionship and her brains and her ability to find an answer in a textbook to every strategy Ron would come up with. They were a team, perfectly matched against each other; a complimenting set of strengths and weaknesses. Without her, the trio was flawed.
Were they safe, wherever they were? Was death constantly at their door, lurking behind every poor decision? Could Ron manage to temper Harry's sometimes volatile outbursts or did he only fan the flames?
Hermione slumped down at one of the tables along the back and buried her face in her arms.
She worried about them terribly. About their health and their ability to face grave uncertainty.
But most of all, she was worried they would never forgive her.
'It's in his office… I'm telling you. I saw it.'
'You can't seriously be considering breaking into his office.'
'Do you have a better plan then?'
'No… but… it's Snape.'
Hermione sat up straight, cocking her head to the side as she listened to the hushed whispers drifting across the stacks.
'Come on Neville, grow a pair— what's the worst he could actually do.'
Her brow furrowed. That was definitely Ginny's voice.
'I'd rather not think about it,' wobbled Neville.
'Exactly. Don't think, just do. You said it yourself, that sword belongs to Harry. It's up to us to get it to him. We have to do this.'
Hermione was on her feet in an instant, rushing down the centre aisle to find Ginny and Neville sitting two stacks over.
'Neville's right, you can't break into Snape's office. He'll kill you,' she argued.
Their heads snapped up at the intrusion. Neville at least looked a little sheepish while Ginny glared furiously.
'Nobody asked you.'
Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest. 'Maybe you shouldn't discuss it in a public setting.'
Ginny's jaw worked for a moment before she casually turned in her chair, her arm flung over the back. 'So what you gonna do? Deduct points?'
'Gin don't,' murmured Neville.
Hermione felt her cheeks flush. 'Really? I didn't think you could be so cruel.'
Ginny's eyebrow raised. 'And I didn't think you could be a traitor. But here we are.'
Hermione kicked her foot against the floor and let out a noise of frustration. 'Seriously, what's your problem? I didn't do anything!'
'Exactly. You didn't do anything. You chose books over your best friend,' Ginny retorted. 'You should be out there with him.'
Hermione's shoulders sagged and she stared at Ginny. She was grateful that Ginny's eyes were brown instead of blue like Ron's. It would have only served as a daily reminder of what she had given up. 'You're right. I should be.' She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. 'But I can't change that.'
'May—maybe you could help. With the sword,' Neville suggested timidly. 'I don't like the idea of breaking into any teacher's office but… what else could we do?'
'We don't need her,' Ginny spat.
Neville ignored her. 'You're clever and you know loads of spells. Maybe you could help us come up with a better plan.'
Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek. She had stolen from Snape before, but that was just some meaningless potion ingredients. If the Sword of Gryffindor was in his office, surely he would have it heavily guarded. And then there was the matter of trying to smuggle it out of the school and the impossible task of getting it to Harry. If they could even make contact with him.
And if they got caught?
Snape had warned her to stay away and keep her head down. If she was somehow found to be involved, it would push him further away.
Not that he cared about her now.
She shook her head. 'I'm sorry Neville, but I can't help you.'
Ginny snorted in disgust. 'Run along back to your books, Hermione. I always knew you were a shit friend.'
The sting of Ginny's words stayed with her over the weekend and into Monday.
Hermione had always tried to tell herself that she didn't care what others thought about her. Her friendships didn't define her: she was a strong, capable young woman who could do anything if she put her mind to it.
But the longer she stayed at Hogwarts, the more she realised it was only a lie. She needed people — people like her parents, who cared for her and adored her. People like Ron and Harry, who appreciated her laughter and her intelligence.
People like Snape, who pushed her to want to become something bigger than herself.
The feelings of self-loathing and guilt remained with her as she hid in the common room while the other students were in class. She was reviewing a fourth-year's essay on banishing and summoning charms when Seamus stumbled through the portrait hole with a shout.
'Hermione give us a hand will ya?'
She looked up to see him half-dragging an unconscious Neville through the hole and gasped.
'What happened?' She ran over to grab one of Neville's arms, gently lowering him down onto the sofa. His face was ashen and he trembled slightly. She brushed his hair back from his face, checking for injuries. 'Why didn't you take him to the Hospital Wing?'
Seamus slumped into the chair opposite. 'Fucking arsehole Amycus forbade it.'
'What— why?' The bells chimed in the distance, signalling the end of class. Neville moaned. 'What's wrong with him?'
'He's been cursed,' Seamus explained, his voice tight.
Hermione snatched her hand back and stared at Seamus in horror. 'In Dark Arts? Seamus this is really serious, we have to take him to Professor Snape immediately.'
'Who do you think cursed him?'
Hermione's stomach swooped as though she had missed a step.
He wouldn't.
Death Eater or not, Snape would never harm a student.
'Snape did this?' She asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.
'No, but he allowed it, didn't he.'
Lavender and Parvati burst through the portrait hole at that moment. They stopped short of the sofa.
'Hermione! Oh, it was awful,' Lavender gasped, wringing her hands together.
'Amycus was being so horrible about muggle-borns,' Parvati added, 'and Neville… well…'
'It was like he'd had enough—'
'I've never seen him act so brave before, he shouted at Amycus—'
'He told him to shut up—'
'And then… oh Merlin…'
'Hermione…'
Seamus leaned forward and held his head in his hands. 'Amycus used the Cruciatus Curse on him.'
Hermione's eyes went wide. 'But that's an Unforgivable curse. That's illegal!'
'Do you think he actually cares?' Seamus replied.
No way. She couldn't allow it.
Hermione stood up so quickly the room spun around her.
'Wait, Hermione, where are you going?' asked Parvati.
Hermione ignored her.
Anger, hot and heavy, pulsed through her veins. It drove her forwards.
She could allow Snape some allowances for the things he had to do to keep his cover. But there were allowances, and then there was this.
'Ashwinder,' she hissed at the gargoyle. She didn't pause to register that the password hadn't changed since the start of term; her feet pounded up the staircase and she shoved hard on the wooden door, flinging it open.
'Minerva, I've told you—'
Snape froze as he came through a side door, his dark eyes raking her form.
'Miss Granger.'
His tone held none of the bitterness or contempt she had grown used to. He just sounded… exhausted.
Hermione unclenched her fists at her sides, every ounce of fight leaving her bones as she took in the dark shadows under his eyes and the way his hair hung lank around his face. He had shed his robes, instead wearing a muggle button-down shirt rolled up to the elbows. His Dark Mark contrasted vividly against his sallow skin.
He didn't threaten her or demand she leave. Instead he just stood in the doorway, his spine bowed and his jaw slack… his gaze never leaving her as she stepped into the room.
The man before her was a ghost of her former mentor.
Hermione sucked in a breath and held her chin high. He wasn't her problem anymore. He had made it very clear that he didn't want her help.
Besides, she wasn't even sure she wanted to help. The last time she stood in his office he admitted that he had used her to gain information. She had suspected as much all along but the realisation still made her bitter.
And yet, despite everything, she yearned to cross the void between them and throw her arms around him, if only to provide him comfort for a brief second.
She ruthlessly shoved the thought down. 'Did you know?'
His eyes closed for a brief second, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. 'Who.'
'Neville Longbottom. Amycus attacked him with the Cruciatus Curse.' It hurt to say it out loud, as though speaking the words gave them life. 'All because he was defending people like me.'
Snape exhaled loudly and shrugged. 'What do you expect me to say, Granger.'
Granger.
Not Miss Granger.
Her fingers tugged at the neckline of her robes before coming to rest above her breastbone.
'You were supposed to protect us. As headmaster, you took a vow.'
'I've broken a dozen vows to get where I am today,' he replied solemnly. 'And Merlin knows I will break a dozen more before this war is over.'
She couldn't take it. The hint of desperation in his voice, the lack of fire that crackled around him and commanded the attention of everyone in the room.
'So that's it then, you're giving up?' She prodded. 'They tortured a student and you let them. You gave them the order– you might as well have cast the spell yourself.'
He flinched, his lips parting momentarily. She felt guilty for saying it, even if it were true.
Snape's lip curled into an ugly sneer and his eyes darkened.
The hair on the backs of her arms raised and she took a step back. Whatever brief treaty had been briefly extended between them had snapped.
'If letting the Carrows torture one student could save hundreds then the sacrifice is worth it.'
It was her turn to gasp in shock. 'How could you say that? Neville did nothing wrong.' She shook her head. 'This is just the beginning. They'll do it again, you know they will.'
He folded his arms across his chest, his Dark Mark a prominent reminder of what he once stood for. 'They will,' he agreed. 'I will not stop them. And if you and your friends try to intervene, it will only make it worse. You might think that being Potter's clever little friend will save you but to them you are nothing. They will delight in your pain.'
It was exactly as he said the day they had fought and he lost control. The Carrows were Death Eaters, and they would not hesitate to make her life hell. He had warned her then about the grave danger she would face and she had been too stubborn to listen.
Her knees felt weak and she looked away, unable to face his gaze anymore.
The wind was knocked from her lungs.
The Sword of Gryffindor glinted behind a case of glass. Just as Ginny had stated.
Something about seeing the sword with its ruby hilt ignited the lioness inside her.
'Would you bring me to the Dark Lord, if he commanded it?' She asked him.
'Yes.'
His lips were pressed together firmly, his posture tall once more.
'Why did you come here,' he asked her, just as he had a hundred times before.
You know why, she wanted to say.
Instead, she shook her head, her chest filled with a fluttery sensation. 'I don't even know anymore.'
The chasm grew wider between them.
The common room was quiet and subdued when she returned. Ginny was sitting on the sofa with Neville's head in her lap, gently rubbing soothing circles across his temples. Seamus and the others were nowhere to be found. Hermione stared down at Neville's shaking form.
Snape was right: fighting back would only make it worse. But equally they couldn't stand there and do nothing.
It's what Harry would have done.
'You were right. Snape keeps the Sword of Gryffindor in his office, in plain view,' Hermione stated, making her mind up.
Ginny gave her a calculating look. 'Okay.'
Hermione crouched down next to the sofa, touching Neville's shoulder. 'Which makes me think it'll be guarded—'
'Give me some credit,' Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. 'Or have you forgotten my brother is a curse-breaker.'
Hermione bit her tongue. 'Fine. If you don't want my help…'
'I never said that.'
Hermione looked up into Ginny's brown eyes. The glow from the fireplace set her red hair aflame.
'I'm still cross with you,' Ginny told her. 'You fucked up royally. Harry needs you.'
But I need you too, Snape's voice whispered in her head.
She slammed her mental door shut.
'I know. Believe me, Ginny, I know and I will never forgive myself for it. So let me help him in the only way I can.'
The silence in the common room was deafening, the only sound coming from the crackle of the fire.
Finally, Ginny nodded. 'Fine.'
Hermione gave her a tentative smile. 'I… I might have borrowed something from Harry that will make our job easier.'
Ginny's brow furrowed for a second before a devious grin lit up her face. 'He gave you the map?'
Hermione nodded, feeling pleased with herself. 'He gave me the map.'
Ginny giggled and peered down at Neville fondly. 'We're going to make this better,' she promised his sleeping form.
Ginny was eager to make an attempt for the sword that weekend, but Hermione made her wait. If they were going to break into Snape's office, she didn't want to risk it more than once.
Not when the stakes were so high.
Neville had roped in Luna, and for two weeks they kept their heads down in class, doing their best to stay off of everyone's radar. They met in quiet corners of the library and dark alcoves between classes to trade secrets and go over their plans in detail. Once again Hermione felt like her life had a sense of meaning and purpose. Doing this one small thing for Harry couldn't make up for her betrayal, but it was a step in the right direction.
Ginny would smuggle books out of the library under the pretence of 'homework', citing McGonagall's name. If McGonagall ever wondered why Ginny needed so many books on curse-breaking, she never said a word. Hermione would then spend her time in the common room, pouring over every book Ginny could get her hands on.
Neville took meticulous notes, filling up a twelve inch roll of parchment — double sided — with potential charms and spells they could use. Hermione was impressed by his new level of preparedness.
He hadn't said a word about his torture since he had recovered, but Hermione noted how his cheek bones had become more pronounced. Luna had turned into his blonde shadow, trailing beside him through the corridors.
Every evening Hermione would drag herself away from her books and draw the curtains around her bed, pulling out Harry's map. She would track the movements of the Carrows and some of the other Death Eaters, trying to find patterns.
She found out that Amycus only did one round immediately after dinner, and stuck to the dungeons before spending the rest of his evening in his rooms. Alecto would often join him just after curfew, and Hermione presumed they were drinking before bed based on the heavy stench of alcohol on Alecto's breath in the morning.
But it was Snape she watched the most.
On the first few nights, Hermione marked down his path around the castle on a piece of parchment. Nearly every night was different as he wove in and out of the corridors, but on the fourth night she cracked the pattern to his movements.
What interested her the most, was that at eleven pm, without fail, the tiny dot labelled Severus Snape would move from the headmaster's office or from his rounds, and migrate to his old office in the dungeons. There he would sit, presumably behind his desk, until the early hours of the morning when he went to bed.
Hermione could picture him there, sitting behind the giant oak desk with its straight backed chair bathed in the faint green light. She could imagine his brow furrowed, his head cradled in his hand as he read through his books, making notes in the margins as he went. She could imagine his dark hair falling forward like a curtain. She wondered if he had lit a fire in the grate to ward off the late October chill.
In the quiet hours she fantasised about going down there and curling up in the horrible wooden chair across from his desk that she had grown fond of. She would wrap herself up in her thickest robes, tucking her feed under her, and study in silence with the scratch of Snape's quill to keep her company.
She mourned for those moments before the world fell apart around them.
She knew that by stealing the sword she was severing the ties between them completely. There was no coming back from it.
Sunday morning at breakfast she sat down next to Neville and Luna as they ate their porridge. 'Tell Ginny we're doing it tonight,' she murmured, her voice louder than the clink of her spoon in her tea cup.
Neville didn't flinch or pale, instead just looked at her resolutely.
'What time,' he asked.
'Thirteen minutes past nine. Not a minute earlier. Meet at the tetraptych of Rowena Ravenclaw on the second floor. Everyone takes their own way there.'
'We'll be there,' confirmed Luna, placing her hand on top of Neville's.
At seven minutes past nine, Hermione slipped out of the library, her pulse slow and steady. She tucked her wand up her sleeve, the cool wood pressing into her forearm and thought of the act she was about to commit. After everything Snape had done for her, could she really go through with it?
She reminded herself of his transgressions — how he manipulated her… How he had passed information to Voldemort which resulted in the death of the Potter's. He wasn't a nice or even honourable man. And then to allow the Carrows to torture the children who had been entrusted in his care?
No. She was doing this.
Hermione checked her wrist watch as she climbed up the North staircase. Twelve minutes past nine. She ducked into an alcove and pulled Harry's map from her rucksack.
'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,' she whispered, tapping the map. The spidery ink flowed across the parchment, filling out the many chambers and corridors of the old castle. As she expected, the twin dots of the Carrows were located in Amycus' rooms.
Ginny's dot was progressing down the hallway, joining up with Luna and Neville. Hermione moved from her spot to meet them.
'Right,' she whispered. 'We have fifteen minutes before Snape makes his ways back to his office.'
'Twenty minutes?' Ginny groaned. 'That's not a lot.'
'It's the biggest window we have. We'll just have to be quick about it,' Hermione assured her.
Neville fidgeted slightly. 'Are you sure we should do it now? We still haven't decided how we'll get the sword to Harry.'
'There's a hidden entrance on the third floor behind a statue. We'll stash it in there and then come back for it later. Besides, it's probably best we don't try to move it for a few weeks. Just in case.'
Ginny nodded at the map in her hands. 'One of us should keep an eye on the map.'
'I'll do it,' Luna offered. 'Although, I'm surprised Professor Snape's presence can be picked up by tracking charms.'
Ginny's eyebrows raised. 'And why is that?'
'Because he's a vampire, of course.'
Hermione recalled Slughorn's Christmas party when she had been saved by an actual vampire by Snape, and then had proceeded to tease him while being mildly drunk. Hysterical laughter bubbled in her chest and she shoved the map towards Luna. 'Let's go,' she said quickly.
They moved swiftly along the corridor towards Snape's office. When they stopped outside the gargoyle Hermione crossed her fingers. After her intrusion the other week there was every possibility Snape had changed his password, in which case their plan would fall through before they even started.
'Ashwinder,' she stated clearly.
She tried to ignore the pang of guilt as the gargoyle leapt aside and they raced up the spiral staircase.
'Lumos,' Hermione and Ginny whispered at once.
'Er, Hermione?' Neville said tentatively, looking up at the portraits surrounding the room.
Shit. The previous Headmaster portraits.
'Use a blindfold charm,' she told him, moving her arm in a sweeping motion.
'Oh… right. Right,' he stuttered. 'Obscuro.'
From her left, Ginny gasped. 'Look… it's Dumbledore's.'
Above where Fawkes perch used to sit was an empty gilded portrait with the inscription Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
The four of them stood shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the empty portrait.
'Where has he gone, do you think?' Neville asked.
'My father says there's a portrait for him at St Mungo's,' answered Luna, 'but it's always empty.'
Ginny laughed. 'Do you think he gives Snape any grief?'
Hermione snorted at the idea of Snape being constantly harassed by Dumbledore's old portrait. 'I hope so.'
She crossed the room to where the sword sat in its glass case. The ruby hilt winked at her in the pale wand light.
Ginny stepped beside her, inspecting the glass carefully. 'I can't believe he'd just leave it out here like this.'
Stupid girl. Does she really think I wouldn't leave it guarded? Snape's voice whispered in her ear.
She shivered. 'Ginny, will you hold that light steady for me?'
Hermione murmured Nox and tucked her wand into her braid. She moved closer to the glass case, her fingers ghosting across its surface. She closed her eyes, trying to let her own magic reach out to whatever was protecting the sword.
'What do you think?' Ginny asked in a low voice.
Hermione frowned. When Ginny had been cursed, she had relied on her adrenaline and fear to guide her to the centre of the curse. While she was apprehensive about getting caught, she couldn't quite tap into the same power.
Not so clever now, are you Granger.
'I'm not sure,' she admitted aloud.
'The book said there should be a bluish cast if there's a protective charm on it,' Ginny said. Her wand light flashed behind Hermione's eyelids.
'Should we try one of those scanning things…' Neville suggested.
'Shut up,' Hermione hissed, grounding her molars together in frustration. 'Please. Just let me think.'
What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours? What are you thinking?
The glass didn't give off heat or a chill: the common signs for protective charms. And Ginny was correct, even in the dim light of their Lumos there didn't appear to be any of the expected blue hue.
Which could mean whatever was protecting the spell could be intended to hurt rather than hinder.
'Go on Neville. Try a revealing spell,' she urged.
She heard him clear his throat. 'Specialis Revelio!'
With her eyes still shut, Hermione expected to feel his spell bounce off the glass, but instead it almost felt like it had gone through the glass. Her frown deepened.
'It didn't do anything,' Ginny said dejectedly.
It didn't make sense.
She opened her eyes and stared at the sword. 'What if…'
'Hermione?'
She held her breath and pressed her hands against the glass— or tried to. Her hands passed straight through and she found herself touching the cold metal of the sword.
'Jumping Gargoyles,' Neville whispered in awe. 'How did you do that?'
Hermione tentatively gripped the sword in her fingers. 'I didn't do anything. Guys… I don't think it's protected.'
Ginny leant forward as Hermione slowly pulled the sword out of the case. 'But the glass—'
'Wasn't real,' Hermione stated. She held the sword up for Ginny and Neville to see. 'It was just an illusion.'
It didn't add up. Why would Snape put a priceless artefact behind a sheet of glass that was only—
'Professor Snape is coming,' Luna said loudly.
Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look of panic. Hermione thrust the sword into Neville's hands and was by Luna's side in an instant, peering over the map. Sure enough, Snape's dot was moving quickly up the central staircases.
'It must have been alarmed,' Hermione croaked. 'Quickly Neville, put it back. We've got to go.'
Ginny stared at the sword for a moment before stepping in front of Neville, her wand clutched tightly in front of her.
'No.'
'Ginny—'
'No way. We're not going to get another chance like this. We're taking the sword with us.'
Ginny appeared so fierce and sure of herself, it made Hermione's heart crack a little bit. She could see now why Harry adored the youngest Weasley so.
'Come on then,' she conceded. Ginny grinned.
Luna shoved the map up the front of her jumper and the four of them rushed from the office.
Hermione's heart thundered uncomfortably in her chest. They couldn't get caught. Snape would—
Her foot touched the bottom step and she froze, her blood turning to ice.
'Miss Granger, I thought I told you—' Snape stood in the corridor, mild annoyance on his face. His gaze swept past her towards the others standing behind her and annoyance swiftly turned to anger. 'What do you think you're doing?'
His voice was dangerously low and Hermione shuddered.
She couldn't let the others take the fall for this.
'It was my idea, sir.'
His eyes narrowed and she shifted on the spot.
'I expected better from you, Miss Granger.'
The comment left a sharp pain in her belly. Hermione bit down on her bottom lip.
'Give me the sword,' he demanded.
'But—' Neville started.
'Just do what he says,' Hermione pleaded with him, not breaking eye contact.
Neville must have relinquished the sword, for Snape pushed past her and roughly plucked it out of Neville's grasp.
'Do. Not. Move,' Snape told them before ascending back up the spiral staircase.
Neville looked ready to faint and Luna linked her fingers through his. 'We're dead,' he whimpered. 'Snape's going to kill us.'
'I don't know,' Luna tried to assure him, 'He might not be that angry.'
Hermione's insides churned uncomfortably. She had seen that same look of fury on Snape's face the evening he cornered her for talking to Lupin. If Ginny and Neville had been caught without Hermione, they might have been saved from severe punishment. But having Hermione present was nearly a death sentence.
They stood huddled together in the corridor, waiting anxiously for their sentence.
'What are you four doing out of bed?'
A wash of nausea came over Hermione and she instinctively reached out for Ginny's hand.
Alecto sauntered down the hallway looking incredibly pleased with herself.
'We… we were just waiting for Professor Snape…' Hermione stuttered.
Alecto clicked her tongue. 'Nobody asked you, Mudblood.' She peered carefully at the group and her mouth slowly spread in a sinister smile. 'Longbottom, isn't it? My brother told me you was sticking up for Mudbloods. Doesn't surprise me one bit… How's your parents?'
'You leave Neville alone,' replied Luna, her voice steady. 'He's one of the bravest people I know.'
'Doubtful Miss Lovegood,' intoned Snape, coming down the stairs. 'I've seen common dormice with more courage than Longbottom. Alecto, you may return to your rounds, I will deal with these four.'
Alecto cocked her head so far she reminded Hermione of some sort of grotesque bird. 'I'll stay if it's the same to you.'
A muscle twitched along Snape's jaw.
He turned, peering down his nose at them. 'You will return to your common rooms at once. Tomorrow night you will serve detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. Do I make myself clear?'
Before they could agree, Alecto gave a very unlady-like snort. 'Detention with that oaf? That's hardly a punishment. Have they told you why they were sneaking around the corridors?'
'He's not an oaf,' Ginny ground out. Hermione stepped on her toe, praying Ginny would have good sense to keep quiet. All things considered, detention with Hagrid wasn't that horrible.
'They were trying to steal a priceless artefact from my office,' Snape told her.
Hermione's head whipped in his direction.
Traitor.
Bloody fucking horrible traitor.
'That sword belongs to Harry,' Neville exclaimed. 'Dumbledore gifted it to him.'
Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. 'And how exactly were you planning on getting it to him? Hm? Harry Potter is a fugitive, wanted by the Ministry for war crimes. Anyone associated with him will be taken straight to the Dementors for interrogation.'
Hermione straightened her shoulders and glared at him. 'War crimes… Harry would never hurt anyone.'
'Let me see if I understand,' Alecto said, tapping her fingers along her cheekbone. 'They broke into your office… stole from you… and you want to give them one detention with a half-breed? That just won't do.'
Hermione swallowed thickly as Snape met her gaze.
'Perhaps you are correct,' he drawled. 'They will report to Filch every night for the next four weeks to aid him however he sees fit, without magic.'
She nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Detention with Filch would be horrible, but manageable. They'd get through it. It could be worse. They could be handed over to the Carrows—
'And the Mudblood? She needs to be taught a lesson,' Alecto tutted.
Snape's eyes grew cold and indifferent, making her breath catch in her chest.
'Come on Severus, you're growing soft,' the Death Eater crooned.
Her heart stopped.
He had warned her.
Time and time again, he had warned her.
And she just wouldn't listen.
'Well if you won't–' Alecto started.
'No.' He said, his chin tipped back. 'It was my office, afterall.'
'Do not think for one moment I wouldn't kill you myself, if I had to.'
Slowly, so slowly that she could have sworn time itself had slowed down, Snape pulled the wand from his sleeve.
She didn't let herself look away or run, no matter how badly her body screamed at her to flee. Time froze as his lips moved—
And then her world exploded in pain.
'Crucio.'
Author's Note:
SORRY NOT SORRY.
Also, please don't hate Ginny too much. She's just an angry little bean but we love her.
Thank you SO MUCH for all of your continued support over the past few weeks. I only have one more assignment due in the first week of April and then I'm FREE! which means we'll hopefully be back to updates every 2 weeks or so.
I adore you all. Every comment means the world to me. Writing is bloody hard, but your enthusiasm makes it worth it!
Playlist:
Jungle, Emma Louise
Burn it Down, AWOLNATION