Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed.
I make no money, I mean no harm.

Patchwork
Some Shadows Reach Further

Hermione and Tisha just reached the bottom of the stairs when they heard a scream from behind. They turned and ran back and there it was, a dark, looming shadow in the corridor not far from the Potions classroom. There was a form of a tall, broad-shouldered figure in the middle, but the darkness filled the corridor completely. Whoever had screamed must have been on the other side.

Tisha slowed down. The voice was there, hissing from distance, and she wanted to hear what it was saying and at the same time was certain she did not want to hear that. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't seem to be bothered by the voice. She halted directly behind the shadow, whipped out her wand, and shouted an incantation. A jet of golden light streamed from Hermione's wand and hit the shadow. For a second, Tisha thought the monster would absorb the light like it was nothing, but that only lasted for a split of a second. Before she could form the thought into words, the shadow melted and the darkness was dispersed. Where it had been, they could see a boy and a girl clutching at each other. The girl gasped and burst into tears; the boy was shaking.

Without hesitation, Tisha knelt in front of them and pulled both children into a tight embrace.

"It's alright," she whispered. "It's alright now. There. It's alright." She looked for Hermione for guidance.

"Chocolate," the young witch replied. "House elves will have some. And I suppose we should check up on them anyway. Come, this way." There were torches illuminating the way, but Hermione still lifted a lit wand above her head. Tisha held each child by the hand as they followed.

"What were you two doing in the dungeons so late?" Tisha asked when they were sitting at the kitchen, each nursing a mug of hot chocolate. Hermione insisted that each of the elves present had some, too, and the elves were huddled near the fireplace, thrown by sharing a drink with the wizards. Dobby, as Tisha noticed, was not in at all.

"We walked Eddie to his Common Room..."

"... and we got lost on the way back."

"Then this thing came out of the wall."

"I thought it was going to kill us."

Hermione rubbed her chin in thought.

"How did it look like? Did you notice anything?" Lizzy shook her head, too terrified to answer. But Robert, ever the scientist, described the figure in as much detail as he could.

"So it came out of the wall? Like a ghost?" Hermione asked when Robert finished.

"More like it... leeched off of the wall." Robert hesitated, searching for words. "Like it was some goo on the wall and it sprang out when we got there. Not coming throught the wall, you see? Just taking a form."

"Taking a form." Hermione wrung her hands, wishing for a piece of parchment to note all of this. "Thank you. Finish your chocolate." She went over to the house elves and quietly talked to them.

"Well, we are done with our drinks," Tisha said when it looked like Hermione was done talking. "Let's get these children in bed." Hermione nodded. The children thanked the elves, who watched them with a touch of apprehension. They had come with Hermione, after all.

The corridors were now completely deserted. Lizzy grabbed Tisha's hand again, while Robert, who had completely recovered, was asking Hermione about the shadow. The vague answers he received didn't seem to deter him at all.

"Here we are," said Hermione with a noticeable relief when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who woke up with a start. "Straight to bed," Hermione said sternly. She watched the children climb in the Common Room, and as the portrait swung back in place, she addressed the still scowling Fat Lady, "They should be the last ones. Good night."

"Will you be okay on your own?" Hermione asked when they got back to the staircase. "It shouldn't return tonight."

"Oh. Of course. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night." As Tisha disappeared down the stairs, Hermione turned to visit the Headmistress. The gargoyles were guarding the staircase this time, but when Hermione knocked on the door, they let her through after a moment.

"Miss Granger," Minerva said evenly as if she had expected her. "What brings you here?"

"There was the shadow - in the dungeons near the Potions classroom. It attacked two students."

"Attacked?!" Minerva pushed her chair back and rose, alarmed.

"Two Gryffindor first years. They are alright, we walked them to the Tower."

"The shadow never attacked anyone before. How did it... look like?"

"It was clearly focused on them. We approached it from behind and the coldness was severely limited. The charm banished it without problems. The children were pretty shaken, so we took them to the kitchens for some chocolate so they could calm down. I asked the elves to keep some at hand - it may be useful. It helps." Hermione paused and contemplated it. "I'm not sure why, but I will discuss this with Professor Snape in the morning."

"Excellent. If that is all?" Hermione nodded.

Minerva finished up with her daily work - just a few minutes after midnight, she noticed with pride - when she realised she forgot to ask something.

"Very well." She looked around at the portraits, all pretending to be fast asleep. "Very well. Does anyone know what were two Gryffindors doing in the dungeons so late at night?"

Snape gazed at the tall, imposing gate in front of himself. Behind it he could make out the silhouette of a dark mansion. Its windows seemed to be slightly illuminated from inside, with a sicklish green glow. It made the house look like an overgrown insect with a myriad of eyes.

I'm dreaming, he realised. This is a dream. I fell asleep musing over the damned book and this must be the house I saw it in.

He now studied the gate, the mansion, and even the garden more curiously. The gate, he was certain, was that of Malfoy Manor. The garden reminded him of the maze used during the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts. The house itself looked like something from a paperback horror book, one his father's sister would always read. And yet he was certain the book was in that house.

He stepped forward and the gate obediently swung open, the hinges creaking loudly. Wisps of white mist curled above the bushes on either side of the path leading to the front door. He ignored them.

"Severusssss," one of them hissed and the others followed. He gritted his teeth and made sure to ignore them even harder.

The front door, just like the gate, swung open when he neared it. The entrance hall was badly lit with flickering candles. There was an umbrella stand under a mirror and a large portrait on one side. The other wall was barren.

The door fell shut behind him and the woman in the portrait woke up.

"Traitor!" she shrieked at him. Snape stopped briefly to watch her, not really impressed. "TRAITOR!"

"And good evening to you, too, Mrs. Black. You wouldn't know where we are, would you?" Her only response was more screaming, which quickly became incomprehensible.

Snape passed her and continued further in the house. Sooner or later his memory will give up some crucial, key information. Perhaps, he mused as Black's insane mother's screaming continued behind him, when he found the book he would just remember what it said about the spell.

He climbed up the staircase. There was only one room on the next floor, Narcissa's dressing room. But instead of the blonde - harrassed, worried, and frightened as he had seen her when she had asked him to save her son - Bellatrix was standing in the doorway, as beautiful as she had been during the first war. She scowled at him and lost her youth before his eyes. Those were the years of Azkaban he watched draining blood from her cheeks, damaging her hair, opening deep wells of insanity in her eyes. She now regarded him with pure hatred. She lifted a small knife.

"Tell me the truth. Where did you find it? WHERE DID YOU FIND IT?"

Snape took a step back and staggered up the stairs. He wasn't there to pick a fight with that lunatic. She didn't have the book; she was never that fond of reading anyway.

The next flight of stairs was unending. As he steadily took one step after another, the screaming followed him. It was not only Bellatrix now. By the sounds of it, she was torturing someone, a young woman. He had to remind himself that this was not real, it was a product of his tired brain and crazy imagination, otherwise he would have turned back. But he was in this dream to find the elusive book.

"Spells that Defy Snitches," he muttered to himself over and over until he drowned out the screaming and the stairs finally opened into a long hallway.

He remembered this one and stopped.

"The book," he said firmly and forced himself to walk. The hallway was quiet - this time, at the least. He reached the Albanian rug. There was a pool of blood on it. He carefully stepped around it. "The book," he repeated loudly and stood in front of a small door. He had to crouch and crawl through, but he did so gladly to get out of that eerie hallway.

He found himself in a kitchen of a sort. He knew it, but couldn't remember from where. There was a shelf with books near the fireplace, and he immediately recognised the book he was looking for. He eagerly pulled it out, the title a familiar blur, and opened it.

"My dear friend Severus," said the book in Dumbledore's manuscript, "what are you doing now? I told you not to." He turned pages. They all read the same.

"I need that spell," Snape shouted at the book desperately. "The Cautious Cage... I need to find that spell!" And the letters in the book rearranged themselves. For the shortest split of second Snape thought he was finally going to see the answer, but no - the letters jumped out of the pages as huge, long-legged spiders. He shut the book, trapping the spiders inside, and cast it in the fire.

"Cast it in the fire," said someone behind him. He turned; it was Mad-Eye Moody, but with a wooden peg for a hand, and as he gravely watched Snape, he started tapping that peg on the doorframe. The book in the flames screamed in pain like a woman. Bellatrix cackled hideously. Mrs. Black screeched mindless accusation. And Moody knocked and knocked and knocked.

Snape woke up in his armchair. He felt more tired than when he fell asleep last night, and yet it must have been morning, because someone was knocking at his door.

"Come in!" he shouted and quickly sat up. He pressed his palm against the troublesome knee and found it still sore.

"Good morning, Sir." Of course it was Granger. Who else.

"An early bird gets the flobberworm?" he asked sourly.

"I didn't want to meet any Sly... students. I won't be long." In spite of the statement, she sat down. "There was a shadow occurence last night - didn't you hear the screaming?"

"No, I... what, screaming? Who screamed?" Snape asked sharply, suddenly fully alert. Hermione relayed the events of the last night.

"Why thank you. What a way to start a day." Snape tapped his chin in thought. "You had better go before my House starts roaming the dungeons in search of food. We are traditionally not in a good mood when hungry."

"Sir, unless you take a turn to worse during the day, perhaps we could check out the hall where the Slytherins hang out today. The one where..."

"I do know which one you mean. What do you hope to find there?"

"The students who cast the spell must have had the book, of course. Spells that Defy Snitches."

"Again, I am well aware of the book you mean."

"Anyway, the students must have had it. Maybe they kept it there." Hermione stood up. "What time should we meet?"

"Beginning of lunch period. Or after dinner - but I'd prefer to go at day. Lately my knee seems to act up at night," he added hastily, as if she had suggested he might be afraid to wander the dungeons at night.

"Excellent. See you." Snape waited until she was gone before he attempted to get up. The knee protested, but held. Something fluttered to the ground and Snape Summoned it. Lily laughed carelessly in the picture, forever stuck in a happy moment. He placed it back in his notebook and returned the notebook to its place.

Half an hour later, he entered the Great Hall. The pain in his knee, although present, was tolerable and he was certain he wasn't hobbling. Granger was sitting alone at their table, he noticed; it was still early. From the staff, only Vector and Sprout were present. He sat down in his usual place and waited.

"Good morning, early bird," Neville chimed as he and Draco joined Hermione at their table..

"And yet there was no flobberworm," she sighed and shook her head. "Something wrong, Draco?"

"My neck feels as if someone broke it overnight and fixed it with Spellotape," Draco complained, turning his head left and right and rubbing the sore spot.

"You probably need to learn to lie down correctly," Neville lectured. "Gran could give you many tips."

"Does she have troubles with morning aches?"

"No, not her, she advises whoever does, though." They piled their plates and quieted down. Hermione watched as Lizzy and Robert escorted a young Hufflepuff - Eddie, no doubts - to the Gryffindor table. She idly wondered whether they picked him up in the dungeons or whether the three met up in the Entrance Hall.

"Something interesting?" Draco turned to follow Hermione's gaze but quickly turned back, hissing in pain.

"The morning post is here." A great number of owls swarmed the hall, some circling under the enchanted ceiling in search of the addressees of their mail. Hedwig emerged from the clutter, dropped a rolled-up parchment in Hermione's lap and landed neatly on Draco's shoulder. Draco fed her a piece of bacon.

"Hello there, my sweet," he cooed. "Have you got anything for me? Ah, there it is." He smiled at Hermione. Both letters were from Mrs. Weasley.

"Good news, I hope?" Neville queried when Hermione's face lit up.

"Bill and Fleur decided to adopt two young orphans," she answered. "And Tonks is pregnant!"

"Spoilers!" Draco complained, having not read so far yet.

"What do you know about spoilers, magical child," Hermione laughed. Neville used the opportunity to peak at each of the letters.

"Hey, I'm not done reading the Weasley papers yet," Draco protested.

"I was just curious. Does Mrs. Weasley copy her letters by a spell, or does she write them individually?"

"She writes each by hand." Hermione said and stood up. "I need to check something in the library, see you later." But before leaving the Great Hall, she walked over to the Gryffindor table and conferred with the first-year trio seated at the very end. Neville smiled and looked at Draco.

"Any other news?" he queried when he noticed Draco was frowning.

"No, it's... the orphans are from Humbleton. That small village up north." He vaguely waved his hand in western direction. Neville was fairly certain Humbleton was southeast from Hogwarts, but decided not to mention it.

"And?" he prodded instead. Draco sighed.

"I remember when we... the Death Eaters, I mean..."

"So they," Neville offered.

"Well, father went with them to the raid. I wonder if..." Neville let the unfinished sentence hang in the air for a bit, but it became apparent Draco was not going to be able to finish it.

"You are not responsible for your father's actions," he said instead. Draco nodded.

"Okay. Can we go over your Muggle Studies notes before class?"

Tisha took her place just as Granger was leaving hers.

"Good morning, Severus," she said quietly. "Feeling better?"

"I have not yet perished from my sufferings," he admitted. "In fact, there has been a noticeable improvement," he added as Granger left the Great Hall altogether. He was not looking forward to their afternoon adventure, but it had to be done, he mused. In the meantime, he had other things to worry about.

"I see Gamp is fully integrated again," Tisha continued. "Hermione and I ran into the other two last night. Well, they..."

"They walked Gamp to his Common Room and then were attacked by the shadow in the dungeons. Miss Granger has already kindly filled me in."

"Wow, she's fast. Is this a leftover cranberry cake from yesterday?" Tisha was eyeing the plate with certain suspicion.

"I believe so myself, on both accounts. The elves have been very conscious about wasting food lately."

"Smells still good. Anyway, could I drop by for lunch today? I noticed you usually skip Friday lunch." Snape glanced at her. She was piling food on her plate and very deliberately not looking at him, but there was tension noticeable in her posture.

"I already have plans for lunch today."

"That sounds fun."

"It is most certainly not fun," Snape added darkly. That made Tisha look at him; she seemed confused, so he continued, "Miss Granger and I are going to continue our research. If that turns out to be fun," he spat the word out as others might poison, "it will likely also be pleasant and fullfilling."

"Ah, yes. She seemed to have formed some new theories to work out." They ate in silence for a few minutes. Snape thought about the conversation, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the outcome.

"If you... prefer," he said finally, quite slowly and awkwardly, "we can meet at dinnertime. I shall be done with research by then. I will need some time in good company to mentally prepare for the evening lesson with the Veterans."

"Excellent. Is four o'clock suitable?"

Four o'clock couldn't come fast enough, Snape mused sourly as Granger examined the walls. Looking for secret closets, no doubt. There was an old stained sofa in the middle of the hall and about a dozen darkened paintings scattered on the walls, otherwise it was completely barren, whatever furniture had once made it a nice conspiratory den had been taken away.

Just as he thought that, there was a loud click and one of the paintings moved sideways to reveal a small compartment in the wall.

"Let's have a look," Granger exclaimed smugly. "Oh..." Snape hobbled closed. Granger's wand lit the inside of the uneven niche. There was only a tattered scarf at the back. Snape Summoned it to examine it closely. It was half a Slytherin scarf, no traces of enchantment.

"There's a piece of parchment there!" Granger reached in and smoothed it out. Snape dropped the scarf and leant closer. It was only a scrap of a letter, the ink faded out to almost ineligible. Snape irritably tapped it with his wand. His knee was once again throbbing with pain and the cold damp air of the dungeon hall was making his other joints stiffen. It took a few seconds for the spell to refresh the faded words.

"... for the Transfiguration; it is an uneasy task. Learn these steps by heart so that you don't hesitate. I will arrive an hour after sunset the day after new moon. Wait..." Hermione turned the parchment over but the other side was empty. "That's all there is. That was not a Reparo, was it?" Snape shook his head and took the parchment from her hand. He studied the manuscript.

"Sir?"

Snape hobbled over to the sofa and dropped into it. He stared at the parchment a little longer, but there was no denying it.

"This was written by Lucius Malfoy," he said finally. "He was helping those students. The day after new moon..." He dropped the parchment and rubbed his temples. "The ritual was performed the day after new moon - on the 10th March - the same day the Dark Lord assigned Malfoy a new task to be done immediately. He tried to get me to do it instead, but I resisted. He wanted to be here, but could not make it."

"And the children went ahead with the ritual themselves." Granger glanced at the sofa next to him and picked up the parchment. "At least one part of the ritual must have been tied to that particular night. It was possible to wait for the next opportunity, of course..."

"... but that would have been much later, significantly enough for them to decide to take the risk and attempt the ritual themselves."

"What we have now may be as well the intended result as some kind of a misfiring."

"I thought he would fail," Snape muttered. "That the Dark Lord would punish him and there would be one less raving maniac to deal with later. I didn't know... I didn't know..." He jumped up angrily and staggered as his knee protested; Granger grabbed his elbow and tried to steady him, but he pushed her away with enough force for her to drop back on the sofa. As for himself, Snape tripped and sat heavily on the ground. He looked at Granger and snarled, daring her to mock him, but she was watching him silently, very pale.

"I will check up on 10th March in Astronomy, see what it is significant for. I checked out some good books on the topic recently for homework, so I don't even need to go to the library," she stated finally. "Can we go over those tomorrow afternoon?"

"Why should I bother?" said Snape bitterly. He was cold, hurting, and overall miserable. "Whatever I do turns out wrong. Perhaps I should attempt to help the shadow with its endeavours."

"What a nonsense," Granger replied dismissively. "Lots of things you've done turned out great. The potion you made for us worked perfectly. Whatever you told Harry must have worked. Not to mention that you survived lying to Voldemort's face - for years - I don't think anyone else could have done that."

Snape didn't want to listen, not really, but there was a small place inside of him that yearned for those words. That place warmed up when he heard them.

"But those children..." he protested.

"Those children didn't tell you what they were doing. You couldn't have known. For all we know they could have failed just as well if Malfoy made it here." She stood up and held up her hand to help him up, too.

"You're too hard on yourself sometimes," she remarked. "Can you walk?" Snape grunted in response, not sure how he should respond, and took a few steps to demonstrate that he could, in fact, walk unaided. He ignored Granger's not-so-subtle offer of support and headed to the door.

"If we are done here, I have an evening lesson to prepare for." Granger looked around the hall and shrugged.

"Of course," she said finally and followed him.

Tisha was already waiting at the door when they reached his quarters. The women looked at each other, and if Snape didn't know better, he would think they were communicating with magic.

"See you in the evening, Professor," Granger said to him and left. He let himself and Tisha in and dropped into the armchair. Tisha set his foot up before he could even think of reaching for his wand and went to make the poultice.

"You look tired," she said softly once he was as comfortable as he could possibly get on a Friday afternoon. "Did you find anything useful?"

"As a matter of fact, we did." Snape paused and considered telling Tisha more about Lucius' involvement in the whole business, but decided against it. There was not much she could gain from the information. "Miss Granger is going to work on the leads while I need to read through her Potions essay." He picked two rolled up parchments from the table. One was considerably longer than the assigned three foot.

"Did you want to discuss anything before I embark on this exciting journey?" he asked, raising the parchments a little.

"Not really. I brought my own work, actually." Snape started reading Draco's essay first and Tisha dived into grading some Muggle Studies homework as well.

About twenty minutes later, Tisha looked up and found Snape fast asleep. He had finished with Draco's essay and was now holding Hermione's. Tisha gently took it from his hand and placed it on the table, then quietly settled in the other armchair. She glanced up every now and then, smiling ever so slightly.

A/N: I thought it would be nice to reference the events of The Deathly Hallows somehow. Also, I have a lot of fun writing the dreams. I hope you like it!