Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, not at all and not even a little bit.
*Chapter Four*
"See how they just fall in line?" Said Umbridge who had been staring at the students as they entered the great hall for dinner. "It's about time there was some order instilled into this school."
She hadn't directed her comments at anyone in particular, but when no one responded she locked her eyes on Severus.
"Wouldn't you agree, Professor Snape?"
He snapped his head in her direction and tried to hide the disdain he felt. Watching her, clad in pink, standing in Dumbledore's place at the lectern was nothing short of sickening. Of all of the ministry officials that Fudge could choose from to infiltrate Hogwarts, he chose the one of which Severus could hardly stand to look at, much less converse with over dinner. Still, he kept his composure and nodded his head once to portray agreement without opening up any room for additional remarks from her.
She seemed satisfied, and turned her attention back to the student tables. Having spent most of his night trying to discover the trick to using the marauder's map, Severus was far too tired for any conversation, even to the faculty that he did like. Not that any of them seemed inclined to speak much, not with Umbridge so close and ready to interrogate anyone at the drop of a hat.
The map was all but useless to him, he found. Any attempts he made to have it reveal its secrets were thwarted by a series of childish jabs and insults that would manifest on the parchment.
It seemed that he would need to look into other methods of transporting Black across the castle in secret, but time was running out. He still had not heard from Dumbledore beyond the first cryptic message he received from the painting in his bedroom the night of his disappearance. Once Voldemort became aware that the headmaster was no longer at Hogwarts, he would strike.
That aside, gaining possession of the map was personal for him. He was hoping to gain some sort of satisfaction at being able to get his hands on it after all of these years, but he was made a fool once again. One last trick from the marauders.
Dinner was coming to an end and he found himself thinking about Hermione Granger, the one who inadvertently brought the map to him. He had noticed her when she entered the great hall, and he saw that she had looked up at him as well. His curiosity was getting the best of him, and he wondered if she had broken the news yet to Potter. Her aura of anxiousness told him that no, she hadn't, in addition to the way they were conversing amongst each other at the Gryffindor table. No, Potter didn't know yet. Pity, he thought. That would have been rather amusing.
As he thought this he was suddenly hit with a short feeling of unease. It was difficult to determine the root of it; was he feeling…guilt? He couldn't deny that Granger looked like a mess; her hair was looking remarkably feral today, like she hadn't bothered to subdue the wild curls with any magical or practical application that she had been using since at least the previous school year.
She fidgeted in her seat; he noticed. He had seen her do that in their last detention together. It was clear that the girl found it difficult to keep things from her friends, but he was impressed with her restraint. Still, he could not help but feel as though he had been unfair putting her in this position when her intentions were seemingly genuine; she had been trying to help Potter—and Dumbledore as well.
The introspection was giving him a migraine.
With a quick "Good evening." To his staff, Severus took his leave and made his way down to the dungeons. He still had two more detention sessions with Granger, and there was much work to be done before O.W.L's so he set himself to grading some essays while he had the free time.
Shortly after, he heard a knock at his door.
"You may enter." He called.
Granger shuffled in and approached his desk. "Good evening, Professor." She said.
"Granger." He acknowledged, and pointed at the chair, indicated for her to take a seat. As soon as she sat down she grabbed the arms of the chair and scooted herself closer to the desk. The chair groaned against the stone floor, causing him to look up incredulously at her.
"What in the world are you doing, girl?" He asked.
"Professor, I felt like I needed to clarify something with you, if—well, if that would be alright."
He placed his quill down, still looking at her eyes which were full of an excited determination. Once again he found his own curiosity taking over and he replied, "Go on."
Her shoulders relaxed some and she sat up in the chair. "I'd like to help you."
"Help me…?"
"Yes, sir."
"With what, pray tell?"
"Anything I suppose, though I was originally thinking with the map, whatever you're doing with that would suffice—but I'm not opposed to other assignments. You see, I was wondering why exactly you seemed so determined to take it from me, but of course your explanation on how dangerous it could be if someone got their hands on it, that makes sense—but, why ask me for it? You gave me an ultimatum: give it to you or you would just take it. All along you could have taken it from me and I would have had no choice but to hand it over, I am just a student after all, but then that made it all the worse for me—I could tell Harry easily enough that you took the it from me but telling him that I loaned it to you would drive Harry up the wall!" She paused for a moment to take a breath, then continued.
"It got me thinking: You wouldn't have asked me for the map if it wasn't something serious, something dire perhaps. I was even beginning to feel a bit guilty about accusing you of being friends with death eaters, and finally that brought me to my decision."
"Which is…?"
"To help you." She said again, as though repeating herself would make it any less absurd. It took Severus several long seconds to process her ramblings. Her words had burst from her as though they had been dying to be spoken, and the effect it was having on him was conflicting.
On one hand, he felt the urge to scold her; to tell her she had forgotten herself. The more powerful urge won out, however, when Severus choked out an exasperated laugh.
"Do I appear that pitiful to you, Miss Granger? Are all of you Gryffindor's born with a hero complex, or is it an extracurricular solely for your house?"
"Born with it, I'd imagine."
He smirked, and leaned forward on the desk, resting his chin on his fist as he considered her. She sat across from him, her jaw now set in a sort of determined agitation.
Severus almost laughed again, but restrained himself. He desired nothing more than to tell her how foolish she was, and that he would sooner kiss a blast-ended skrewt before accepting any assistance from a student…but she was offering it so eagerly and he thought there could easily be a way for him to gain something by allowing the girl to assist him.
"How could I refuse such an offer?" he said. "As it were, I could use your help. The map…it doesn't respond to me, that is—I don't believe that I can use it in the same way you can."
"There is a incantation to activate it, sir. A pass phrase, more accurately…"
Of course there is. Severus thought. He rolled his eyes and replied through gritted teeth, "Why did you not think to mention this to me yesterday evening?"
"You didn't ask." She said bluntly.
With an irritated sigh, Severus pulled out the folded parchment from his desk drawer and laid it out on the desk between them. As soon as he laid it down the girl had her wand brandished, placing the tip of it against the top page and settled herself in a calm concentration.
In a clear voice she said "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The familiar ink raced across the page and soon depicted the cover of the marauder's map. He saw the familiar nicknames that they had given themselves: Mooney for Lupin, Wormtail for Pettigrew, Padfoot for Black, and finally Prongs, for Potter. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of frustration at how easily she was able to reveal the maps contents, but he forced himself to brush it off.
"It will only show itself if you say those words exactly." She explained. "and then when you're done you simply tell the map 'Mischief managed.'
She tapped the parchment again as she spoke and just like that, the ink was gone. When she looked at him expectantly, he placed his wand against the paper and tried for himself. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."
The ink spread, forming two clear and distinct words.
"Bugger off?" Granger read the paper and then clasped her hand over her mouth. "How horrid. Why didn't it work for you?"
"It seems as though there were some pretty extensive charms placed on this map to ensure I, and I alone, would not be permitted to use it."
"So whatever it was you were planning to do with it…"
"I will manage."
"I could help."
"You don't know what it is you are offering."
She raised her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know what you're doing, but I know what I'm offering. I want to do my part, like Harry…Like Dumbledore…Like you."
Dumbledore would not be pleased with him if he allowed Granger to take part in their plan. If the girl only knew what it was Severus was up to, she would surely withdraw her proposal—a dangerous prospect, considering what the consequences would be if word got out that Sirius Black was taken hostage.
The trust that Dumbledore had gained with Potter would be compromised, the order would be thrust into chaos. That is, unless Dumbledore decided that the best course of action would be to allow Severus to take full responsibility. Potter did not like him as it was, and he did not carry much favor with the other order members either, save for perhaps Minerva McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house.
Yes, he decided, that would be the likely scenario should anyone find out about Black. Again the guilt shot through him, this time he found it difficult to push it to the side and he swallowed hard. He was already angry with Dumbledore; the man had given him a ridiculous task and then disappeared without a trace. Bitterly Severus wondered if he would come back to tell him he would then need to take all of the rest of Potters loved ones and throw them into a dungeon somewhere; Granger, Weasley and the rest of his family perhaps. Maybe he would even throw the owl in there too, just for safe measure.
"Professor?" Granger questioned, a look of concern on her face.
Lost in his thoughts, he had hardly realized that he had been sitting with head resting in either hand, both grasping locks of hair as though ready to rip it out. He must have looked like a madman. He composed himself and ran his fingers through his hair once more to smooth it back.
"If I allow you to help me…" He began, and her eyes lit up. "Then you must swear me this—you must not speak a word of it to anyone. Not Potter, nor any of your other classmates. Not even Dumbledore himself."
"I understand." She responded.
"Furthermore, I expect you to do precisely as I say; There are to be no questions and you will only be told what I feel is necessary for you to know."
"That sounds…reasonable."
"You already have a question, I take it?" He sighed, noticing that upon his last doctrine she had begun biting her lower lip and fidgeting in place.
"No. That is—maybe, but just one."
"Then by all means, Miss Granger." His reply dripped with sarcasm, but she either did not notice or chose to ignore it.
"It's more of a request, really." She started, staring down at the palms of her hands as she spoke. "I will do whatever I need to but if you could just promise that, whatever you're doing—whatever this is, it's going to help Harry."
Her request hung in the air, and Severus could feel an internal struggle going on somewhere in the back of his head. He figured he could lie, and tell the girl that yes, this would help Potter, but he could not ignore his growing conscious.
"I hope so, Granger. I truly, and fervently, hope so."
A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews! I will try to write as quickly and as often as I am able to. I agree that Snape and Hermione are kind of an odd pair, but I've read a few very good SSHG stories that led me to write one of my own! It will probably be pretty slow on any of the romance aspect, unless my impatience wins out.