Author's Note

I don't have a beta, so please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

I'm not J.K. Rowling, so I don't own anything.

Ch 6: Warning

Hermione didn't dare remove the Disillusionment Charm from herself until she entered the Potions classroom, despite not seeing a single soul moving about the castle. The quiet clink of glass bottles knocking into one another sounded from the store room, alerting her that there was at least one other person in Hogwarts right then.

Snape. She watched him from the open doorway as he rummaged through the shelves, occasionally putting one ingredient into a wooden box that looked nearly full already.

It actually surprised her a bit to find Snape there waiting for her. Honestly, she'd half expected him to simply leave the potion with a snippy note warning her not to bother him again when the five days were up and she returned for the final product.

"The Dark Lord knows how Potter will be moved," he announced without preamble, likely detecting her the moment she arrived for all he showed it. Then again, it wasn't as though he had any reason to fear her, nor were they friends reuniting after an absence.

Then his statement registered, penetrating the clutter of her inconsequential thoughts.

She didn't even know what the Order intended to do. Though she probably would if she'd been staying at the Burrow as she'd planned to do. At least until she'd gotten to The Three Broomsticks and realised she hadn't taken a birth control potion. It was too late to go back to the castle, but she also couldn't bear the thought of whipping one up at the Burrow and Mrs. Weasley catching her at it.

Or worse, Ron.

He'd become a whole situation for her in itself. One she simply didn't know how to manage.

"Oh? What am I supposed to do with that?" she asked, needing to focus on the matter at hand. The one she actually stood a chance of doing something about.

"Do whatever you like with it. It's little matter to me if Potter dies," Snape said scathingly.

Except that wasn't even close to the truth, and she knew it with every fibre of her body.

"I don't believe you," she accused.

"I don't care what you believe," he snapped, adding one last phial to the box before slamming the lid shut and shoving it towards her.

She stared at the carving on the top absently, struggling to process why he'd just gifted her with a fortune's worth of potion ingredients. Was it because he knew she'd be unable to acquire any of her own soon enough? First, because of Harry, but also because with her parents gone, she was already beginning to run dangerously low on funds. A few weeks at a hotel hadn't been kind to her rather limited wallet.

"How would you move him?" she asked, genuinely seeking his advice. He knew all the players involved best. Who better to strategize?

"Not by flying. It leaves him exposed for too long," he stated bluntly, revealing the current plan to her.

"Besides, we've done that in the past," Hermione mused.

"Precisely," he agreed, nodding. "Floo and Portkey are out too. The Ministry is monitoring them, and the Dark Lord has access to all of their information."

There was a pause as he waited for her to get it.

"Apparation? But Harry can't. He has the Trace still," she argued, shaking her head at the flaw in his logic.

"You, however, do not," he countered, crossing his arms and smirking.

A week ago the expression would have irritated her. She would have assumed it was at her expense because he enjoyed every opportunity he had to point out that she wasn't the brilliant golden girl his colleagues made her out to be. Now, though, she thought it had more to do with his pleasure at outwitting someone, anyone, else.

"You'd simply need to leave the house first to go undetected," he added as an afterthought.

"If it's that easy, why doesn't someone from the Order just do it then? I've never tried Side-Along-Apparition before," she said, poking holes in his suggestion.

"The timing of it all. Most of the Order are being watched, but the Death Eaters have been unable to locate you," he said, a hint of a question appearing behind the thinly veiled statement.

She didn't really feel like confessing that she'd been too torn up and conflicted after her parents and recent choices to reside at the Burrow. Probably, he'd see her confusion at evidence that he'd taken advantage of her or some such rot.

It wasn't that, because he definitely hadn't. But she also couldn't stop thinking about the encounter, then feeling guilty because she wouldn't mind doing it again. But not with Ron, the bloke she'd fancied for ages. No, her body craved another encounter with Snape specifically.

Between having a forbidden fantasy come true, and the brief surcease from all her constant thoughts and worries that had accompanied it, she couldn't help but wish for another opportunity to lose herself in the moment. Was it truly so wrong to long for a temporary respite?

Probably.

At least it would be to anyone who ever discovered what she'd willingly done.

"Besides, the Order are worried about protecting his family," he said dismissively, tearing her from her inappropriate musings. "Something as straightforward as Apparation would never occur to them."

"And you aren't worried?" she asked, detecting more than he probably meant to reveal. Some slight or grudge. He said the word family with the same loathing he used to use when addressing Sirius or Lupin.

"Petunia deserves whatever she gets," he sneered, confirming her suspicions.

Stunned, she blurted, "You know Harry's aunt?"

Snape froze, his entire body stiffening as he realised the mistake he'd made. Hermione imagined it wasn't something that he allowed to happen often. It couldn't, or he'd long be dead given his position as a spy.

"Would you rather discuss a means to move Potter discretely and safely, or my past?"

Somehow, she figured saying both wouldn't be an acceptable answer.

"What do you suggest?"

"Move Potter now. Before Death Eaters have a chance to intercept you," he recommended. Had it been like this before? Would Snape advise Dumbledore, then the headmaster would have to weigh the pros and cons of acting on the gathered intelligence?

Hermione felt anything but qualified to make a determination. There was too much she didn't know. She hadn't the necessary experience.

"Will Vol–"

"Do not say his name around me!" Snape hissed, clutching his arm tightly.

The Dark Mark. The room had been so dark when they'd been together that she'd not noticed the brand on his arm. Had she touched it? The way he was reacting now, she half expected it to transmit anything said directly to Voldemort.

"Sorry!" she said shrilly, horrified by the possibilities racing through her mind. There must be a reason the Death Eaters all seemed to react similarly when Voldemort was mentioned. Rationally, she knew the tattoo wasn't sentient. But she still didn't like the reminder that Snape was linked to the bigoted monster. "Will You-Know-Who suspect that you shared this information or warned the Order?"

She wouldn't repay Snape for his help by endangering him.

"Who would I have been in contact with after my recent actions?" he asked flatly, expression unreadable.

It was a fair enough assessment. As far as she could tell, no one doubted his guilt. Aside from her.

"Besides, even he can't fault me for not predicting the impulsive actions of a reckless teenager," he remarked dryly.

"Guess Harry's habit of acting impetuously finally comes in handy," Hermione replied, shaking her head. Harry could never find out about this. If he did, he'd use it to justify future spur of the moment, half-arsed plans.

"There is a first time for everything," he said mockingly, lips curling slightly in disdain. "The Dark Lord is convinced that nothing will happen for another two weeks because the Order will be determined to take advantage of the protections around Potter for as long as they possibly can."

"There is a reason why he believes that," Hermione pointed out. The Dursleys' was the only place that truly guaranteed Harry's safety at the moment.

"The Weasleys will shoulder the risk without protest," Snape said knowingly. It was precisely what she'd been dreading hearing.

"Yes," she agreed, knowing he was correct in his summation.

"No one is watching the house yet."

"So being in the open to leave won't be an issue," Hermione murmured, recalling what Snape had said about how she could avoid activating the Trace. Being in the open had probably been the biggest deterrent for the Order. But then they hadn't had someone on the inside capable of letting them know when it was safe to try.

"Precisely."

Was she truly considering this? Well, obviously she was. Hermione cast her eyes about the room, searching for even a hint that this was the right move.

Dumbledore was back. He stared at her from the frame he'd been in before when she and Snape had struck this unusual partnership. Surely he would have spoken up by now if he disagreed with the plan. After all, there was a reason that Snape alone seemed to know all of the man's secrets – even more of them than Harry ever learned, possibly.

"I need to borrow an owl. Harry won't leave unless he knows the others are safe," Hermione announced, putting her faith in Snape once again. He'd not let her down yet.

Hopefully Lupin would come through for her quickly. If not, she'd just have to risk moving Harry without his help. Or stay with Harry until she convinced the werewolf.

Snape nodded at Dumbledore's portrait, the first indication she'd had that he was speaking to the wizard again. Though perhaps speaking was an overstatement. Communicating begrudgingly fit far better. Once he'd stepped from the frame, Snape muttered under his breath. Hermione heard words like "knock" and "force", but nothing more to make sense of it.

"What will you tell the others?" he asked suddenly.

That was a very good question, and one she should probably have an answer to before she met up with Lupin.

Snape didn't rush her, and after a minute or two, she answered, saying, "A version of the argument you made. It's logical. Practical. They won't be suspicious if I present it as taking advantage of the element of surprise with minimal risks to others."

"You should have been in Slytherin," he said with a touch of incredulity.

The remark was probably intended as a compliment, but she was still about to say never when she glanced around at what was essentially their territory. The door to his rooms were they'd gone before was concealed, but thinking about it suddenly made her wonder.

"Have you been staying at the castle?"

"Where else would I be?" he asked drolly, rolling his eyes.

The words 'a house' were on the tip of her tongue, but she restrained herself. He'd been a professor for so long and spent most of the year at the castle that it actually didn't make much sense for him to have a different place.

"Does any of the other staff know you're here?" she asked wearily.

"Of course not. They'd curse me on sight," he retorted tersely, turning slightly until his ebony hair fell forward to partially shield his face like blackout curtains.

It was such a lonely existence. No wonder he was actually willing to converse with her now. He literally had no one else. At least none who knew the truth.

Hermione studied him. Everything from his posture to his tone was defensive and closed off. It couldn't be more apparent if he'd worn a neon sign flashing a warning to let the matter drop or he'd turn on her, going for blood like some feral beast.

"How are you getting about undetected?" she asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from his destroyed friendships.

"I've lived here most of my life. Do you honestly expect me not to have learned a few of the castle's secrets in that time?"

So much for changing the topic. His question left her feeling ignorant and a bit foolish. Though perhaps it was merely lingering bitterness on his part making him lash out.

"Is that how you were always able to catch the Weasley twins?"

"They've always lacked subtlety," he said dryly.

"'I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.'" Hermione quoted, pointing out, "Not exactly subtle."

"You remember that?" he asked, appearing almost touched that she'd remembered. Though it could have also been the shock of discovering that a student had actually been paying attention in a lesson.

"It was my first introduction to all the…joys of brewing potions."

Snape cleared his throat, seeming suddenly distinctly uncomfortable. He gestured at the box she still clutched, the one he'd been assembling for her when she'd arrived. "Most of what you'd need to do any of that is in that box."

"Twice now you've shared information to help me, and now this too," Hermione said quietly, baffled by his contrary actions. Trying to puzzle him out was utterly perplexing.

"That is my job. Don't over think my actions or assign some altruistic motive to them," Snape said, a new harshness sharpening his tone.

Hermione ignored it, finding it easier to do now that she'd seen him naked and sucked his cock. A bit of practice helped with it too, since she'd now had three real conversations with the man. So she ploughed ahead, asking, "And if I come to you for help again?"

"You'd be a fool to risk getting caught," he stated bluntly, "Minerva might have chased the Carrows away before, but they'll be back. "

It was clearly a warning, but she noticed he hadn't actually refused.

"Why were they here at all?" It was something she'd wondered about over the last few days, but she'd been too caught up in everything else to ask at the time.

"The Dark Lord wishes to install as many Death Eaters in the castle as possible – a shift towards teaching the appropriate curriculum and pureblood values," Snape informed her darkly, his hands balling into fists as he foretold the future of Hogwarts.

"You're serious," Hermione gasped, incredulous.

"What did you think was going to happen?" he asked, giving her a pitying look. "He wishes to take over the wizarding world. For now, the Board of Governors have appointed Minerva as Interim Head, but when the Ministry falls – and it will, soon – her position won't last, and she'll be forced to go along with the changes if she wishes to stick around and try to protect her lions."

It was a bleak prospect. Certainly not the Hogwarts Hermione was familiar with. But that was what happened during a war. The familiar often became unrecognisable.

"Then you'll probably be back here next year," she realised, unaccountably worried for his well being. His would not be the more dangerous task, but he would be facing ostracism and loathing even more blatant than what the Gryffindors typically displayed.

"More than likely, yes," he agreed.

An owl soared into the classroom, flapping its wings twice before it landed on the table nearest her. At Snape's expectant look, she realised she probably should have used the time they'd spent waiting to write her note instead of conversing with the recalcitrant wizard. But who knew when she'd see him again, and she'd actually enjoyed having him not treat her like a leper. High expectations – that's what that was right there.

But honestly, he'd been far less resentful or awkward than she would have anticipated given all that had transpired between them. Of course, that only served to fuel her absurd fascination with the man.

Sighing, Hermione Summoned a quill, ink, and a parchment then jotted a quick note to Lupin, figuring he'd get the least upset with her and be the one most invested in helping Harry. She didn't say much, just informed him she was moving Harry immediately, and that he should probably come by if he wished to take steps to protect the Dursleys. Brevity was key, and stating rather than asking would hopefully spur him into action quicker.

"I don't even know where Harry lives," Hermione said suddenly, pausing as she tied the letter to the owl's proffered leg.

"4, Privet Drive, Surrey," Snape answered automatically.

He'd known all along and not turned Harry over to Voldemort. That should have been all the proof anyone in the Order required to maintain faith in Snape. Yet somehow, with Dumbledore's death, they'd all lost sight of it.

"I should get going," she said, unsure of the proper way to leave things.

"Do not get the potion on you. It will kill you in moments," he stressed, nodding at the box she still cradled. Hermione shifted, wanting to say a dozen different things. But then Snape spoke again, sounding more than a bit irritated, "You have somewhere to be now, yes?"

"Right," she agreed, internally cringing at herself as she fled the room, willing herself not to break out into an actual run or look back.