"She did what?!" Severus hissed fixing his eyes on the girl.

"I never would have expected such behaviour from her!" McGonagall poked her black pudding. "I thought she had more sense than that..."

Hermione did have more sense than that. If she wanted to set up Malfoy, she would have stayed behind as to not implicate herself. He turned his gaze to a rather sad looking Hagrid chasing his beans around his plate. If Hagrid truly had a dragon...that would make sense. The foolish girl would have leapt at the chance to help the man, and Potter seemed fond of him as well. Perhaps his anger should be directed at the adult that dragged the little idiots into it. How could he be so irresponsible?

"I shall have a talk with her," he said after McGonagall described the scenario in great detail. "Rest assured this will not happen again."

His eyes landed on Quirrell who fixed his gaze on Hermione and Potter who spoke in hushed voices to each other, both looking over their shoulders at every word. Maybe they were discussing the dragon, which Severus now felt was more real than Hermione had let on. How lucky were those two idiots that they didn't come across Quirrell? Who now seemed more distant and irritable. Were his plans going so awry?

He watched Hermione chase the twins out after admonishing Potter for something and he put his own fork down to meet her. He had to handle this with tact, there was no way he could threaten to pull her out again when this was supposed to be her last offense. He found the tiny girl speaking in hushed voices with the two boys who exchanged a quick glance.

"Do you think it's possible?" Hermione asked.

"We'll see what we can do," one twin said.

"But can you give us any more details?" the other asked.

Hermione shook her head, checked over her shoulder and spotted him standing behind her. She froze on the spot, the colour draining from her face and her eyes growing larger. She turned back to the twins who exchanged confused glances. Perhaps they didn't know which one he had chased down. Likely the twins were brewing some kind of mischief.

"You boys may leave," he sighed. "Whatever you're scheming is low on my list of priorities today."

"Yessir!" they both said before scampering off down the corridor.

"Follow me," he instructed once they were out of earshot.

How many times this year had he summoned Hermione to his office? He lost count, a natural people pleaser, he never had expected her to break so many rules. Yet in her first year she had given even James Potter a run for his money.

"The good news," he shut the door behind them. "Is that I have decided to not to pull you out of classes."

Hermione let out a drawn out breath, making him think she was holding her breath all the way down. "The bad news?"

"I don't believe Professor McGonagall's story," he said examining her scarred hands. "Not with Hagrid moping about the grounds and castle. I imagine he got his hands on a dragon and charged you and Potter with its rescue?"

Hermione choked and her eyes darted around the room before bringing her clasped hands up to her face and digging her nails into the gaps between her fingers, again. Behind her hands he thought she might be biting her lip. Best not drag it out...

"I don't expect details from you," he said. "Just tell me if I'm right. And you can put from your mind any legal ramifications. I've no intention of dealing with the burden of proof."

"Hagrid didn't charge us with it," Hermione squeaked in a small voice. "When w-I found out I volunteered to get the dragon to the right place. He was unsure if he wanted to accept it at first. I just didn't want him to get in trouble. You and I both know how poorly he would fair in Azkaban. Hagrid's fragile..."

"I see," he tried to keep his voice even. "Though when you and Potter volunteered to escort a dragon to safety, did it not cross your minds that any number of us would be equally upset at the prospect of Hagrid going to prison and eager to help him? Not to mention more capable than two eleven-year-olds?"

Hermione stared at her feet and he knew the answer to the question. One day, he'd cease to be surprised by the diminishing amount of trust she had in him. For now he put it from his mind and went back to the issue at hand.

"Hagrid should know better, but should this happen again," he thrummed his fingers on his desk. "I'm rather fond of the man, and so is the headmaster. Either one of us would have dealt with the issue at hand, with out putting ourselves at risk the way you two did. Honestly, Hermione, you should have come to me the minute you found out. It's not safe for you to be wandering about the castle at night. There are things you don't...that you can't know."

Hermione's expression went from fearful to surprised to confused. Her posture relaxed and she approached him, but with caution. "I, erm," she averted her gaze and paused after a few steps.

He gave her a moment, recognizing the nervous wringing of her hands. He didn't speak, but instead met her half way placing a hand gently on the top of her head and kneeling at her eye level. He waited and saw that look of trying to find the perfect words.

"What can I know?" she asked softly.

"I'm sorry, love," he sighed. "I can't trust you not to involve yourself if you know."

Something akin to realization crossed Hermione's face and he wondered what it was that made her back away from him. She spoke barely above a whisper, and her voice shook with cold horror.

"How can possibly you know that I would?"

"Hermione," he breathed. How do I even start...? Fuck it. "I raised you. I know how eager you are to jump into others' problems. You can't tell me you wouldn't, I've memorized every expression on that little face since you were the size of a k-since you were a baby."

Hermione regarded him with a palpable disappointment, her sad expression speaking volumes. He wasn't lying when he said she was easy to read. And Severus knew he blew his chance to regain a bit of trust. She did know, somehow, and she had given him the chance to admit it. You should have come clean, you stupid piece of shit.

"No," her quiet voice broke again. "I-I didn't want to believe it..."

His muscles tensed and the lump in his throat returned along with a tightness in his chest. He wished once again he could take it all back. Keeping her on a short leash should have been enough to keep her from getting involved...No, the incident with the dragon never would have happened if that method worked. But neither did explaining it to her...she was determined to get herself killed, what the hell was he supposed to do? Anything but erase her memory...

"There were very complicated circumstances, love," he explained.

"Complicated circumstances?!" Hermione cried.

He should have expected a reaction like that, how else could she possibly have taken it? They couldn't go back to pretending the other was ignorant. They'd both tipped their hands, and his search for words failed him. How could this get so out of hand? She speaks French...you should have sent her to Beaux Batons...she never would have been involved then...

Looking at his shaking, teary-eyed daughter, he knew that wasn't an option anymore. Erasing her memory again was off the table as well, he never should have done it the first time. There was so much he failed to give her, she was entitled to her own memories. He wanted what was best for her, and he had no idea how to make that happen.

For God's sake, some part of him thought. I just wanted to keep her safe...If she could just listen to me...no, no, it wasn't right. The worst part was that it was all for not, Hermione wasn't any safer for having her memories altered. He thought that if he could just...it didn't matter.

"I trusted you!" she sobbed.

"Oh, Hermione," he cooed reaching out for her.

Hermione backed away from him, repulsed. Sadness, anger and betrayal danced in her large brown eyes, not unlike the way she looked at him when he wiped her memory. He wanted to pick her up and promise her everything would be okay. Not exactly something he could do when he was the problem. And mending relations after modifying your child's memory was not exactly covered in parenting books.

"I don't expect you to understand," he sighed Stay calm. "I only wanted to keep you safe. I had tried keeping you within reach, I tried explaining the situation to you, but nothing worked."

"And you thought playing with my mind would work?" she squeaked.

He had no answer for that. All he could do was stare at her and wish she was the small child she seemed to him. Winning her trust back, keeping her safe was all so much easier when he was all she had. He hated himself for that thought. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, his eyes not leaving her as he mentally ran through what he should and shouldn't tell her.

"I know I'm the last person you want to be spending any time with right now," he took in a deep breath. "But I suggest you sit down, love. I'm going to tell you what I can."

"What he could tell her" was very little. Hermione put together the little bit her father let her in on. There was something being protected by the professors, someone wanted it, and that meant that Hermione was in very real danger. Before he'd modified her memory, he'd told her who it was he suspected, but instead of avoiding them, she'd investigated them. So despite wanting to trust her with the name it seemed she was safer not knowing. He wanted to tell her more, but he couldn't.

Hermione read between the lines. If he knew she was investigating the person, that meant she came to him. She went to him for help and he erased her memory. What was worse, she still loved the traitor. She wished he'd just called her down to scream at her about last night. Why was he so confident Norbert had been real?

You should have come to me...ha! She wouldn't ever come to him for help again!

"How long do you need them incapacitated?" Fred whispered.

"The whole day," she checked over her shoulder.

"That's a tall order," George mused.

The Gryffindor common room was filled with people studying or chatting. Harry was at Quidditch practice. Ron hadn't been released yet, but Hermione knew her window would close soon. All she had to do was make Harry too sick to play the match and then the assailant (who she still clung to a thread of hope that it wasn't her father) couldn't do anything.

"Couldn't you easily sneak out ingredients for a sleeping draught?"

"My father's far too paranoid for me to get away with it. I see his owl flying around me all the time if I'm out. It's easier this way."

The twins looked at each other with raised eyebrows and turned back to her. "An owl?"

"Mage-bred, more capable of reporting my misdeeds than you'd believe."

"He'd be better off getting a houseelf to spy on you," Fred laughed.

"He did, and her name is Libby," Hermione sighed. "She's quite lovely though."

"Can you at least tell us who you're poisoning?" George asked.

"Poisoning?" Harry asked from behind her.

"Gah!" Hermione spun to see both Harry and Ron.

"Just a sleeping draught," Hermione shrugged. "Nothing for you two to w-"

"Come on!" A newly released Ron sat opposite her, hungry for gossip. "Tell me it's Malfoy!"

"It's Malfoy," she lied.

"Is that really smart, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"You sound like me," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"If you lot are plotting to lose our house more points," Percy announced scowling at them as he pushed up his glasses. "I will tell Professor McGonagall! Spiking Malfoy's drink with sleeping draught, Hermione? Should I tell your father to keep an eye on his stores?"

Damn it, Percy! Hermione thought. She thought he liked her, apparently not! How was she supposed to save Harry's life if she couldn't get past Percy Weasley of all people? And did he have to announce it so damn loud? He had the entire common room staring at them.

"Haven't you done enough damage?" Lavender cried. "I wish Snape would stop threatening and pull you out of classes already!"

"Let's go, Lavender," Pavarti rolled her eyes. "I thought you were better than that, Hermione!"

The rest of the group joined Percy's threats and Hermione tuned them out wondering if Harry falling unconscious at breakfast would give her away when they thought she was after Malfoy...she wondered if she could get Libby to get the ingredients and do the deed...no one would suspect...no, she wasn't asking that...she'd have to find another way.

Hostility turned to laughter as poor Neville rabbit-hopped into the common room. Tears sprang to his blue eyes and round face flushed pink as he watched the entire room fall over laughing...including Harry, Ron, Percy, Fred and George, who knew better! She rolled her eyes and unlocked his limbs casting a toxic glance over the four boys before she addressing Neville. "Are you alright, Neville?"

Neville related the story of how Malfoy had ambushed him outside the library and to Ron's (all of sudden sympathetic) advice to stand up for himself, Neville whimpered that he already knew he wasn't brave enough to be put in Gryffindor long before Malfoy accused him of such.

You're not half the coward I am...Hermione thought back to every moment she froze when action had to be taken. She could read through every book in the damn library and she would still be hopeless! Though saying that would do no good.

Harry and the Weasleys tried to cheer him up with a variety of sweets, assurances Malfoy was due his comeuppance and a chocolate frog.

"I've loads of Dumbledores," Neville said, offering it to Ron.

"That's where I read that name before!" Harry exclaimed.

"Dumbledore's?" Ron scoffed. "You'd have read it everywhere, mate, he is the headmaster."

"No!" Harry snapped pointing to the card. "Flammel!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione pressed their heads together and read the card together. Dumbledore worked on the philosopher's stone with Nicholas Flammel and..."Shit!" Hermione slapped her forward as she remembered where she'd read about it.

"Hermione?" Ron said regarding her with large eyes.

It was too late Hermione bounded for the girls' dormitory, ignoring the sneering Pavarti and Lavender as she snatched a large volume from beside her bed and slid down the banister to meet them.

"It can turn lead to gold and more importantly make a person immortal!" She whispered pointing at the passage. "That's why they want it! Who wouldn't want to conquer death?"

"Or make boatloads of gold," Ron said astonished.

"You have a one track mind, Ron," Hermione sighed.

Monday morning after transfiguration Hermione took a deep breath and wondered what she could say. My dad wants to kill my best friend, cancel the match please?

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione bit her lip. "Do you have a second?"

"Are you quite alright, girl?" McGonagall peered at her over her glasses.

Hermione must've looked like she felt. "You need to cancel the quidditch match, Professor."

"And rob Gryffindor of the chance to regain the points you, Potter and Longbottom lost? Did your father put you up to-"

All you adults are useless! she wanted to cry but instead: "Listen," she said quietly. "Coming forward was the last thing I wanted to do, but I know something dreadful is going to happen."

"Sit down, girl," she sighed."Would you mind telling me why you believe something is going to happen?"

"You never caught the person who jinxed Harry's broomstick. What if they do it again?"

"Is that what you're concerned about?" McGonagall scoffed. "I assure you Potter is in no danger."

"Did you even launch an investigation?" Hermione breathed.

McGonagall's nostril's flared and rage flickered in her beady eyes. "I believe that is the business of myself and the other professors. I understand you're concerned, but nothing will happen. Did we even launch an investigation?! Your father certainly made sure you're adequately suspicious, didn't he?"

You have no idea...

Lunch saw the arrival of two birds for Hermione. A raven with a letter from Hiro, which provided a small spark of joy and the second was an owl with a letter from McGonagall providing the details of their detention. Harry's and Neville's were identical, but Hermione's had a cheeky post-script.

And when you emerge from the Forest alive, you can assure your father that I was not trying to get you killed!

"Harry, Hermione," Hagrid told them standing at the edge of the forest. "You two are with me. Neville, you and Malfoy can cover the other end."

"Erm," Hermione bit her lip and tugged on his sleeve, as though she were six again. "I'm sorry, Hagrid, but, erm, I mean, I don't think, erm..."

"Ou' wi' it, Hermione," Hagrid said, not unkindly.

"It's just that, erm..." Hermione took in a deep breath. "It's a stupid idea! Shit! Sorry! Not stupid, but terrible...it...Pairing Neville with Malfoy is asking for trouble!"

Hagrid recoiled, looking quite hurt and Hermione wished her brain would work. It was as if she had lost all ability to...no, she was never able to say the right things. Social interaction was just a game Hermione would never understand the rules to. "Just," she sighed. "Pair me with Malfoy, neither of us can mess with the other. He's untouchable and my father heads his house. We have to tolerate each other."

"Yer father would flay me alive if I didn' have you with me," Hagrid explained.

She believed it. Have to be with a useless adult, Hermione Elizabeth. Have to erase your memory, little girl. It's all to keep you safe, love. I know best...What a bloody prat!

"Hones'ly, Hermione," he smiled warmly. "Wha's the wors' tha' could happen?"

"If nothing happens, I will literally eat my hat," she muttered in Harry's ear.

They put it from their minds as Malfoy, Neville and Fang set off in one direction and Hagrid went off in another direction. Paths choked with tangled tree roots and creepers barely became less hazardous under the light of Hermione's wand. If Percy hadn't tipped her father off, she would love to steal what she needed for owl-sight elixir as well as the sleeping draught. She spied a silhouette of a centaur standing in the light filtered through a rare clearing staring at Mars.

"Mars is bright tonight," he said.

Bane, the red haired, solemn patriarch of the centaurs that called the forbidden forest home. And Hermione and Hagrid knew a secret of the strict, cold centaur. And that was the sight of 'fawn-eyed human foals' under a certain age made him squeal like a little girl around a three week old kitten. An age Hermione seemed to have passed as he didn't regard her with the same mind-numbing cooing, but he also didn't regard them with the hostility reserved for humans.

"Hullo, Bane," Hagrid greeted him. "We're lookin' fer an injured unicorn. This young lad is Harry Potter, and o' course you remember little Hermione. Harry, this is Bane, he's a centaur."

"I'd have never guessed," Harry said, his trademark cheekiness undercut by his stunned 'centaurs are real?' look.

A back and forth between Hagrid and Bane whittled away minutes, and all it bought them was that Mars was bright (a war is coming? I should have paid more attention when I read an Astro-diviners Field Guide!), and that killing a unicorn was an act of incredible evil. They left with Hagrid cursing Centaurs and Hermione wondering if it was culturally insensitive? racist? Speicist? It didn't seem right, but Bane's insistence on speaking in riddles annoyed her too. Though not nearly as much as being right about Neville and Malfoy.

They followed the red fireworks to find Neville shaking in the soil while Malfoy cackled evilly.

"Neville," Hermione sighed helping him up. "Are you okay?"

"Harry, you should-"

"That'll be a disaster and you know it, Hagrid!" Hermione whispered. "They hate each other."

"Yer father-"

"Needn't know," she whispered. "Just don't leave those two idiots alone together. You should take Malfoy and I'll take either Neville or Harry."

"We can hear you!" Harry snapped.

"Don't spoil the fun, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "I was waiting to see when she'd remember that she was stuck with the oaf. Can't let Daddy's little girl get hurt."

"Call Hagrid an oaf again," Hermione challenged in a cold dangerous voice. "And I will spill every last detail I milked from Pansy to Lavender Brown. Our whole year will know." Please, don't call my bluff...

"You wouldn't..." he gasped.

"Try me!"

"I swear when my father hears..."

"Harry, Neville," Hermione said loudly. "I have the most hilarious thing to tell you!"

"Shut up!" Malfoy cried.

"Apologize to Hagrid and Neville and I'll think about it!"

To her amazement, Malfoy muttered an apology to both of them and stared at his feet, his pale pointed face flushing pink. Hermione owed Pansy a warning or...

"Don't bother Pansy about this," she shrugged. "If she comes to me upset you will regret it!"

Malfoy gulped and a vindictive flutter in her heart sent warmth through her body. You disgusting bitch! You really are your father's daughter!

"We're wastin' time!" Hagrid groaned. "I'll take Neville, you two seem ter have him under control, and yeh'll be safer wi' the three o' you. Wi' me please, Neville."

"Right," Neville squeaked following Hagrid closely.

Malfoy was uncharacteristically quiet through their trek, only letting out a grumble every now and then when Harry or Hermione knelt down to look for track marks or blood in the soil.

"Hermione?" Harry called. "I think I've found something."

Sure enough he did, droplets resembling mercury splattered across the tangled network of roots. Unicorn blood.

"It looks like it made a path," Harry whispered following it, Hermione tailing him with her light.

"Maybe it was wounded and took off," Hermione mused in a whisper. "Or its attacker dragged it...We'll have to be very quiet."

Harry nodded and the two set two following the trail of blood, and Hermione hoped it only led to a wounded unicorn. What was that spell to knit bleeding wounds again? Of course she blanked on it now!

"Are you two completely mad?!" Malfoy hissed. "You want to go toward the thing killing unicorns?"

"Stay behind if you want," Harry hissed back. "I don't care!"

"Stay, go," Hermione whispered. "I don't give a damn either, but be quiet about it!"

Hermione stalked off ignoring the hard beating in her chest as the shining silver pools became bigger and the sounds of the wood screamed threats at her. Though, she knew she imagined at least some of them as hostile. Her father had done an excellent job convincing her the world at large held nothing but threats, even when she knew she couldn't trust him. How much of her freezing came from her life as a shut-in? She put it from her mind as she heard the boys approach at her heals.

"You are mental running off like that!" Malfoy hissed grabbing her wand arm.

"Shh!" She hissed attempting to rip her arm back.

"I'm not getting expelled because you have a death wish!" Malfoy ignored her.

Hermione tried to shake Malfoy, he wasn't particularly strong or big, but he was a good head or so taller than her, and had a grip like a pitbull. "If I get injured I'll tell people you tried to protect me," she hissed. "If I die, you get to pretend you are a failed goddamn hero! Now let me go or I will scream!"

Malfoy released her, but glared at her, probably cooking up a vengeance plot of his own. She turned to the task at hand as icy tendrils gripped her heart. "Where the hell is Harry?"

"I don't care where famous Potter is!" he grumbled.

"If you thought me getting killed would get you expelled, think of what getting 'famous Harry Potter' would get you! He's the second coming of Merlin to this school!"

They followed the trail and didn't just find Harry, but a cloaked form leaping from the mangled, bloodied body of a young unicorn while Harry staggered on the spot clutching his forehead. Malfoy screamed and Hermione stood petrified as the cloaked figure of a tall man lunged for Harry. Ice filled her heart and lungs, and she clutched her wand with a white knuckled grip as she tried to urge herself to do something...Malfoy shook behind her, and Harry collapsed with an agonized moan. He laid on the ground motionless...helpless...DO SOMETHING!

"Petrificus Totalis!" Hermione squeaked hitting the figure.

It worked! The cloaked figure fell to the ground, his limbs bound to his side, face down. Hermione approached the downed figure before Malfoy could come to and stop her. She hoovered over the figure ready to reveal the culprits face when something ripped her foot from under her sending her falling back.

The figure hadn't been as handled as she wished. Mere seconds passed, and somehow he lifted the curse without help. She only managed to buy them seconds. He rose to his feet, and all Hermione could see from under the man's hood was a pale jaw, mouth twisted in fury, teeth and lips drenched in silver unicorn blood. She was certain that would be the last thing she ever saw when she heard the distant thundering of hooves.

A blond centaur with large eyes and a palomino body trotted over sending the figure flying off into the wood. She slowly rose to meet her hooved saviour and with his permission helped Harry onto his back. Harry, thankfully, started to come to and a hundred questions escaped both of them as Firenze brought them to Hagrid and the other centaurs.

"This is Harry Potter!" Firenze told Bane after being chastised for letting a human ride him. "Mars is bright tonight. A war is coming..."

Hermione stood enraptured by Firenze's story. He suspected Voldemort had come back, and that Harry was in grave danger. He spoke like they expected Harry to be a target, because he was supposed to be the undoing of Voldemort. Harry, an eleven-year-old boy, the undoing of the Dark Lord...and an oncoming war to decide the fate of the world. All on Harry's shoulders...

"I thought Sn-whoever wanted the stone just wanted to be rich..." Harry gulped that night in the common room.

"A half life..." Hermione choked. "If the Dark Lord gets that stone...it's over...It'll be much more potent than unicorn blood. How...But Dumbledore...I... " Hermione bit her lip and drew her knees up to her chest.

"Do you think he'll be able to?" Ron asked solemnly. "Kill Harry and get the stone..."

The three of them sat in silence and Hermione thought about her father. He couldn't be working for Voldemort...he couldn't...but after everything else, she didn't know how he could not...if he was innocent why so many secrets? But how could he...she didn't want to believe it. Her concern had to be Harry, but she couldn't stop from playing back the last eight years she could remember...she couldn't reconcile the two.

Voldemort was afraid of Dumbledore...Dumbledore could protect Harry...or was he also not to be trusted. Hermione's stomach churned and her chest tightened as all of her muscles tensed. Dumbledore seemed trustworthy...but was anyone? No, they couldn't trust a single adult with this...they were all liars...no, that wasn't fair. In fact, that was kind of stupid...very stupid.

"Harry," she said trying to keep her voice calm. "He is afraid of Dumbledore. As long as Dumbledore is here, he can't touch you...you're safe...we should sleep..."

She doubted the boys slept, and Hermione didn't either...how could she save Harry, protect her father and keep the stone from Voldemort? They all seemed at odds, and what if she had to choose between them? Would she make the right choice? Did she even know what the right choice was? Hermione threw her pillow over her face to muffle the sounds of her sobs through the night.

Professor Severus Snape,

I am writing to extend a formal invitation to allow your daughter, Hermione, to attend Mahoukatoro during the month of July as part of our cultural enrichment program. My grandson and granddaughter, Hiro and Kaori, have volunteered (and on the part of my grandson requested!) to be her guides during the month. My grandson insists that Hermione would be a brilliant choice for the program, and though we normally don't request outside of applicants, I believe her correspondence with Hiro over this year will allow her to adjust and understand our customs much more quickly than others...and where you are probably as used to claims of nepotism as I am, I will admit that Hiro's insistence did have some bearing on this decision.

I understand you will probably want to discuss this opportunity with your daughter. Agreeing to this would be committing to Julys with us until she is 20. Should you decide to take part in this program, please send a response before 1, May 1992. We will also need to review Hermione's transcripts and require a reference letter from a teacher, that is not you for obvious reasons. I look forward to hearing from you.

Until Next,

Yamato Ito, Headmaster of Mahoukatoro

Severus reread the letter, this might have been the solution he needed. If he could get Yamato to agree to take her earlier, he could have Hermione far, far away from Quirrell and any threat that he posed. He wished he'd gotten this letter after Hallowe'en, it might have been easier to leverage earlier in the academic year and he could have had her sent away the minute Quirrell threatened her...and yet, somehow the idea of her being so far from him still terrified him, even when he knew she would be safer half way around the world. Regardless of his every instinct demanding he keep her near him, he knew what was best.

Headmaster Yamato,

Hermione is thrilled at the prospect of taking part in the program. I hereby extend my permission for my daughter to partake. We will be gathering the necessary paperwork and will have it sent off before the deadline (It was already April!). As honoured as we both are that Hermione was chosen for this program, I am afraid I have a rather strange request. One that I do not make lightly.

For reasons I am not at liberty to disclose, I believe it would be best for her to finish her term at your school rather than ours. Again, I do understand that this is unorthodox, but I have reasons to believe my child's safety is at risk. I'm certain that as a father and grandfather you understand why this belief has led me to request this.

My sincere thanks,

Professor S. Snape.

He sent off the letter and decided to track down Quirrell before the match and...Shit! The match! He'd forgotten that he'd volunteered to referee it. Why did McGonagall have to appoint, not only a first year, but a first year most likely to have others want him dead, as a Seeker?! She had to know that was a terrible idea. It didn't matter. Quirrell wasn't going to get another chance to try his tricks.

Quirrell walked out of the entrance hall at the exact right time for him to catch up. Perhaps if he knew just how much Severus suspected he would back down...though it wasn't likely if he wasn't working alone like he had suspected. How often had he walked in on the man muttering to himself, or whimpering in a corner? He hoped that weakness would make him cower more before the immediate threat than the worse threat.

"Quirrell," he hissed walking to his side.

"Y-y-yes, S-S-Severus?" he squeaked.

"Meet me in the forest after the match. There is something we must discuss."

"Y-y-yes."

"Oh thank God!" Hermione sighed releasing a million tensed muscles and loosening the white-knuckled grip on the wand she hid up her sleeve.

Nothing unusual happened with Harry or his broomstick the entire match. It played like a completely normal match...or what she expected to be a normal match.

"We won!" Ron exclaimed.

The ending of the game allowed Hermione to breathe again, but it seemed, though Ron had seemed as grim and nervous as she was until the end, but instead of untensing, he jumped for joy with the rest of the Gryffindor lot. Malfoy made a snide comment that earned Ron's ire, and before she knew it, the lanky boy at her side was now leaping over her shoulder at him.

Shouting commenced and Hermione slipped out of the throng of people jeering and throwing punches. She managed to completely evade detection as she slipped onto the grass and waited for Harry to emerge from the changing tents when she spied a purple clad man checking over his shoulder and creeping to the forest. Quirrell...what was he up to? She couldn't shake the burning voice in her mind that told her to follow him.

She found a nearby tree, gulped and climbed, quietly into it. She picked a lower branch where she could hide in the foliage and still spy Quirrell on the ground, wringing his hands and muttering to himself.

"It will be fine, it will be fine...we'll take care of things, won't we? He won't stop us...he can't stop us..."

Did he only stutter in the presence of others? She supposed that was a possibility, but she wondered what he was talking about, and more importantly who was the other part of 'we'? She wished she knew, but her musing was intetrrupted as the branch shook and a skinny form appeared from the rustling leaves. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from making a noise and nearly lost her balance as a pair of green eyes beheld her with shock.

Damn it, Harry! Hermione let herself breathe again and she pressed a finger to her lips.

Harry closed his mouth, nodded solemnly and the two peered down at the now two forms below them. The second was a black cloaked figure who lowered his hood to reveal her father. No...please, don't let this be what I think it is...

"I-I d-don't know why you wanted to m-meet me h-here, Severus," Quirrell quivered.

"I'm sure you do, Quirrell," he closed the gap between them. "Students aren't supposed to know about the philosopher's stone."

Harry nearly fell out of the tree at the mention of the stone, but luckily, he steadied himself and didn't draw attention to them. Hermione might have done the same had she not been hugging the branch they were on for dear life. A gift Hermione and her father shared was the ability to leap to conclusions in a single bound, and she'd hoped this was one of those times. But this conversation dashed the last hope she clung to that he was innocent.

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell!" he snarled. "Think very carefully about where your loyalties lie."

"Th-think of y-your-"

"I would be very careful about who you threaten," he grabbed Quirrell by the arm and brought his face dangerously close to his. "You don't want to know the things I would do if I found myself with nothing to lose!"

The two men left the forest separately, and Harry and Hermione gulped before skulking back up to the castle with heavy hearts.

They found Ron in the common room celebrating with the others, beaming and bragging about Malfoy's blackened eyes. Until he saw their pale solemn faces.

"We need to talk!" Harry whispered.

The three dodged the celebrating Gryffindors and left the common room, opting for the privacy of a dark and dusty broom cupboard on the same floor. Hermione dug her nails into her hands and her stomach churned while a knot formed in her throat. She sat opposite the boys and tried to bring the words to her lips. She could barely make out their interrogating eyes, but she still shrunk under their gaze. They needed to know the truth, but Hermione shook silently while listening to Harry tell Ron about the conversation, hugging her knees and feeling blood at her fingertips and tasting it on her lowerlip as she tried to let breath find its way to her lungs.

A sob escaped her lips as she tried to speak. In a broken, shaking voice Hermione told them everything. About seeing her father jinxing the broom, his leg, the wiping her memory, the journal entries about the conflict they had on Hallowe'en. Everything. A year's worth of secrets flowed from her with the tears, she was unable to stop either.

"Hermione," Ron gulped. "Snape tried to kill Harry, and might be working for You-Know-Who. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"H-he's my father!" Hermione wailed. "I-I-I-wanted to be wr-wrong! I'm s-sorry! I'm so sorry!"