Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything affiliated with it.

*Chapter Two*

Breakfast the following morning was a sullen affair. As soon as Hermione and Harry stepped into the dormitory the previous night, he immediately told her that the DA had been found by Umbridge, who had blown a hole right through the wall to get to them. 'Oh Harry, I'm so sorry I wasn't there with you all. I should have never gone to the library.' She had told him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

'It's okay, Hermione. Anyways, it seems like you'll be in detention too. I'm not sure what will be worse, detention with Umbridge, or detention with Snape.'

Ron had waited up for Harry and Hermione. Soon they were all caught up on the events of the night, but Hermione couldn't help but wonder how Umbridge knew they would be in the room of requirement.

Her curiosity was put to rest as she saw a group of Ravenclaw students enter the great hall, headed by Cho Chang who looked furious. She marched her way over the Gryffindor table and pointed a finger at Hermione.

"You need to fix her face, Hermione, you had no right!" Her Scottish accent was even thicker with the anger in her voice.

"What do you mean fix her fa…Oh." Hermione started to respond, but then noticed the frame of Marietta Edgecomb peeking out from behind Cho. Across her face were lines of nasty bright pimples that clearly spelled out the word 'SNEAK'.

"Absolutely not." Hermione said with finality. "She deserves it, and I won't be fixing anything. Now the world will know she's a rotten traitor."

Cho huffed, but instead of replying to Hermione she faced Harry and asked "Can I speak with you? Alone."

Harry appeared to be just as angry as Cho, but still, he stood from the table and followed her out of the great hall doors. Hermione stared down at her plate.

"That was brilliant, Hermione. Adding that jinx to the parchment. Will they ever go away?" Ron asked from beside her.

Hermione gave him a small grin. "They'll fade…in a few years."

Severus stared down into the cauldron, noting the rate at which the bubbles appeared upon the surface. It was a milky green color, much too pale. He grabbed the wooden spoon and pulled it out, the contents splashed back into the cauldron with a few light plops. Too thin, as well.

"Longbottom…precisely what is it you are currently brewing?" He sneered.

Neville Longbottom peered up at him for a moment before directing his gaze at the ground. "Befud—ahem, er…Befuddlement Draught, sir."

"Ah, yes….and have you been sampling the draught yourself, or are you just naturally this incompetent?" Severus dropped the spoon back into the pot and stepped away before Longbottom could reply.

He was in a poor mood. It was late when he had finally returned to his bedroom; the conversation with Fudge and Umbridge had been tiring and dull. They, for whatever reason, were under the impression that Dumbledore had directed Potter and his friends to conduct secret defense classes. It was beyond ridiculous, and Severus had told them as much.

They hadn't located the headmaster, not that he deigned that they would. If Dumbledore did not want to be found, then he would not be…Minister of Magic be damned.

When he entered his room, one of the portraits on his wall cleared its throat. It bore a message for him: Look after Harry. Continue with our plan.

Our plan, it had said. Severus supposed in a court of law, it would be just as much his plan as Dumbledore's. If he was to be the one securing Black, then he would be just as guilty, if not more so. It still left a bad taste in his mouth.

Class ended without too much fuss. Longbottom had attempted to remake his befuddlement draught and did manage to concoct an acceptable batch. Severus did see the Granger girl giving him pointers, but he had hardly been in the mood to engage with either of them in his present state. He would surely have met his know-it-all quota by the time the week was out, given the girl would be spending her evenings in detention with him.

He was almost regretting assigning the punishment until professor Sprout approached him at dinner, asking him if he had any more stores of dragon-dung fertilizer to aid in the growth of her fanged geraniums.

"Sadly, I lack its main ingredient. However…" As he spoke he remembered: during the tri-wizard tournament, the forbidden forest was home to a number of defecating dragons. That would serve Granger well. Severus gave her a polite nod. "I should be able to brew you some tomorrow, Pomona."

The door to Snape's office was ajar, so Hermione only gave it a few raps with her knuckles before pushing it open. The potions professor sat at his desk, head low, scribbling away with a quill. "You may enter." He spoke, not bothering to look up at her as she crossed the doorway and made her way to one of the two chairs that sat across from him.

"No need to sit." He spoke, flourishing his quill a few more times before placing it down on the desk. "We will be assisting Professor Sprout this evening."

Hermione unintentionally heaved a sigh of relief. Helping professor Sprout did not seem like it would be too terrible-even though she was not overly fond of some of the more pinch-y plants that they had been handling this year. She tried to mentally guess what task professor Sprout may need done when she noticed the grin on Snape's face.

The head of Slytherin house was not known to be a jovial sort of fellow, so his bared teeth sent a shiver down her spine. It looked friendly enough, she thought. Suited him. She had, however, had enough experience with Professor Snape over the years to know she should not get her hopes up that they would simply be picking puffapods during her detention.

She followed Snape out of the castle and down the sloping grass past Hagrid's hut. The sun was low in the sky by the time they reached the edge of the forbidden forest, and Hermione, who had not known to bring her jumper, shivered a bit as they entered past the wood-line.

"Will we be going far, professor?" she asked, wrapping her cloak around her as she walked. Under the cover of the thick branches, the temperature seemed to drop another few degrees, and it was already an unusually cold April for Scotland. It was dark under the trees as well, other than a few rays of faint daylight that found their way through the leaves scattered here and there.

"Are you frightened, Granger?" Snape mocked.

"No, sir." She lied.

It was silly, but she would not humiliate herself by admitting to him that she was a bit frightened. Entering the forest at night was not on her list of most pleasant ways to spend an evening, and she was getting colder by the second.

"Then you're a fool." He replied. "Even well-trained witches and wizards have met their end in these woods. Cast a light and take the lead, Granger."

She did as he said and took a few careful steps ahead of him, casting lumos once she did so, so their path would be illuminated. They continued to walk for another couple of minutes until Hermione realized she was no longer cold. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Snape had his wand pointed at her back, a faint heat radiating in her direction indicated he had cast a warming charm.

"Thanks." Hermione said quickly once she realized. His eyes rolled and he waved his arm in a shoeing motion, beckoning her to keep walking.

"The constant chattering of your teeth was becoming unbearable."

They kept going in silence until they reached a sizeable clearing. Hermione's mouth dropped open when she took, I'm her surroundings, using the light from her wand to examine the nearby trees. The ones closest to the clearing were completely black, and charred. Some were reduced to ashy stumps, and the ones further back had been relieved of all their leaves.

There appeared to be some new growth in a few of them, but it looked as though a bad fire had spread through this part of the forest. She noticed even the grass beneath their feet was replaced with a mixture of ash and dirt. The smell reminded her of one of the cabins her parents had taken her to when she was younger; they had been snowed in and lost power, so their only source of heat had been from the wood pile stacked in the mudroom.

Shallow rectangular indentations were present in the ground, as though something extremely heavy had been sitting there not too long ago.

"The dragons!" She squeaked. "This must be where they kept them during the tournament!"

"Excellent powers of deduction, Granger." Snape said sarcastically, also looking around at the burnt clearing around them. "It is because of the dragons that we are here tonight. You see, professor Sprout needed some dragon dung and unfortunately, I had just run out."

Snape produced a large leather pouch from beneath his robes and tossed it to Hermione. She saw he was wearing the same grin he had worn in his office. He had clearly been looking forward to a negative reaction from her, and she had no intention of giving it to him.

"I'd call this a rather shitty detention, professor." She quipped. To her amusement the smile dropped from his face and formed into something more akin to a scowl.

"Language." He warned.

The hour passed quickly, especially since Snape had permitted her to transfigure a small branch into a trowel. She had half expected him to just watch as she collected the dung, but he pulled out another pouch from his robes and began filling his as well. Misery loves company, she thought to herself.

Once they were done, they followed the same path back towards the castle. Snape had again told Hermione to take the lead and light the way while he cast another warming charm behind her. Her feet were starting to get sore by the time they passed Hagrid's hut, but the thought of a warm bath gave her enough incentive to keep her pace.

"I trust you know your own way back to your common room?" Snape asked once they entered the castle.

"Yes, sir." Hermione answered.

"Then see that you get there and do not make any stops along the way." He instructed. Hermione began to walk in the direction of the staircase when she heard him speak again "wait."

"Yes, professor?"

"Tell me Granger…" Snape looked her up and down before asking "How did you know that Dumbledore had vanished? How is it you, in the library, were aware of what was going on in the headmaster's office?"

Hermione tensed up. She had not been expecting him to ask her that, given he did not push for more of an explanation the night before. "I…" She began. "I can't say, professor."

Although his expression didn't change, she did catch something in his gaze that betrayed his thoughts. She wondered if it was anger, or just curiosity.

"Go."

Not wanting to give him the opportunity to push further into his questioning, she gave him a nod and then walked quickly towards the stairs. It was too close, she thought. She would need to be more careful; and it was only her first night of detention. She hadn't even been able to come up with a half-decent excuse. Harry wouldn't be too pleased to hear Snape inquiring in the marauders map. At least, she thought, I can go take a bath.

Severus wanted that map.

He was convinced that was what Granger had used to discover Dumbledore's disappearance clear across the castle. Moreover, the girl seemed to know that he was nearing the library. She didn't try to flee when he opened the doors, in fact, she had emerged from behind the shelves precisely when he had come in. She had known it was him and had risked getting in trouble so she could warn him about the headmaster.

He had known of the map's existence since shortly after its creation. His tormentors: James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, never did have enough sense to keep their achievements quiet. They used the map frequently to pop out of corners to startle Severus, and always seemed to know where he'd gone to when he sought out some peace and quiet.

When he saw Harry Potter holding a similar piece of parchment some years back, he knew at once it was the same one the boy's father had used in school. The damn thing had been charmed to insult him as well, if he ever tried to read it. Big nose, indeed.

Still, he wanted that map. If he was to sneak Sirius Black somewhere into the castle, under Umbridge's nose nonetheless, he would need to ensure safe passage. Then there was the added difficulty that Black would not come quietly. A few jinxes could clear that up easily enough, but if it came down to using magic to transport an unconscious man across the grounds, he would need to know his safest route.

He knew where he would bring his captive. When Umbridge had told him about Potter holding secret meetings on the 7th floor, he instantly recalled hearing stories about the infamous 'come and go' room. A room that allowed anyone who entered to use it for whatever they needed the most. He had the need but had never been sure of its location, until now.

One way or another, Severus was determined to get his hands on that map.