Chapter Forty-Four

All hopes of avoiding their surprise guest vanished when Hermione entered the kitchen the next morning. Draco, looking far more put together than he had last night, sat at the table with a cup of tea and a book in front of him. His now clean hair fell nearly to his shoulders with the barest hint of a wave, and his previously scruffy face was now shaved smooth. The dark circles under his eyes had lessened, but he was still hollow-cheeked and scrawny, far too thin for his frame. His clothes- a dark long sleeved top and simple black trousers- hung from his body in a way that was reminiscent of Harry in his cousin's old clothes. It was that image in her mind that spurred her into motion once more.

"Good morning," she said in greeting, and Draco nearly jumped out of his seat. Sighting her, his eyes narrowed, and she chose to ignore the hostility. "I see you made tea."

"Is that a problem, Granger?" he asked stiffly, his hand reaching compulsively for his cup.

I'm just impressed you could make it yourself. "Of course not," she spoke aloud, opening the fridge. "I was just wondering if you'd like some food to go alongside it."

"Oh." She glanced over her shoulder at her former classmate, who was looking at her like he had forgotten who she was. Was it the unsettled state he was in, or was it her atypical cordiality?

"I can make us all eggs and sausage," she offered, holding up the items as she closed the fridge.

Draco just shrugged, turning back to his book and ignoring the daggers Hermione was sending through the back of his skull.

From down the hall, a door quietly opened and closed; there was a silent pause, and - knowing Severus was listening for any signs of disagreement between his two former students - Hermione called out, "We're fine, Severus. Go shower."

"No bloodshed until I come out," he demanded, entering his bathroom. A moment later, the sounds of running water reached their ears.

Hermione turned towards the stove, deciding that she was just going to put a plate in front of Draco and see what happened, when he said, "Okay Granger, spill. What's going on between you two?"

"What's 'going on' between us?" she repeated blandly, bristling at his prying.

"Yes. How did it happen?"

"I thought you had that all figured out," she muttered, opening a cabinet and pulling out a frying pan.

"Well, seeing how you can't actually fuck him for a good grade-"

"Fuck's sake," she muttered, closing her eyes.

"-though, it's just a different type of 'O' you'd be getting now, wouldn't it-"

"Malfoy, would it kill you to be civilized?" she snapped, slamming the pan on the burner.

Whether it was the harshness of her voice or the crash from the pan she couldn't say, but Draco's eyes grew momentarily fearful before he pulled himself back together. She looked at the pan in her hand and grimaced. "I'm sorry-"

Draco rose quickly and exited the kitchen. Hermione put a hand over her eyes, frustrated with herself for losing control. The sound of the back door opening and slamming shut told her exactly where he had gone, and after taking a few deep breaths, she followed.

Draco stood with his back to her in the middle of the garden. His hands were in his pockets, and he was staring up at the clouded sky. "It's freezing out here," she said as she wrapped her arms around her waist.

"I'm used to it," he said quietly, and Hermione's stomach turned. Of course he was used to it - Azkaban was just slabs of stone in the middle of the ocean, after all. It was most likely freezing, and she was certain that the comfort of the prisoners weren't the new guards' priority.

"Draco, I'm sorry-"

"I wasn't sure I'd ever see the sky again," he confided, and she froze. "You take it for granted, when you think it'll always be there. You only miss it when it's gone."

Why was he telling her this? Draco didn't confide in her. Draco didn't talk to her unless it was to hurl insults at her. "I can't imagine what it was like for you," she said in reply, not sure what else to say.

"No, you can't."

He didn't say anything else, nor did he turn around. Hermione stood there for a few minutes before finally saying, "I'm going to make breakfast. You'll have a plate waiting for you when you come in."

He didn't reply, and she went back inside.

Severus was exiting the bathroom when she entered, a towel around his waist. "What's happened?" he asked, concern wrinkling his forehead.

She shrugged, gesturing out back. "I think I, er... triggered a panic response from him on accident? He's outside enjoying the sky right now."

"What did you do?" he asked, and while his words were not at all accusatory Hermione felt herself stiffen in defense anyway.

"He made another lewd comment, so I snapped at him and slammed the pan down. I was trying so hard to be nice, Severus, but he just knows how to get under my skin! I-"

He grabbed her shoulders, squeezing gently. "I'm not upset with you, Hermione. I know how tense your history is." Sighing, he looked over her shoulder at the back door. "I'll speak with him after getting dressed. Do you think you can handle breakfast?"

Nodding, she said, "Though one of us is going to have to explain how this-" she gestured between the two of them- "came about before he decides for himself."

"Would you like me to?"

Again, she nodded. "I don't think I would be very nice about it," she admitted, and Severus chuckled.

"Go - cook breakfast. We'll see you in a bit."

Fully dressed in frock coat and robes, Severus stepped outside holding a spare coat. As he figured, Draco wasn't all that unlike Hermione after all. Approaching the blond, he held out the spare frock coat and said, "Is it something about your generation that makes you so opposed to cold weather wear?"

Draco looked over in confusion, and then noticed the coat. Taking it wordlessly, he shrugged it on and shoved his hands in the pockets. "What did she tell you?"

"That she upset you, and that you're enjoying the sky."

He smirked. "I didn't expect her to be so forthright."

"Hermione admits when she makes mistakes," Severus told him. "Most of the time, anyway." Ignoring the snort next to him, he asked, "What set it off?"

Draco shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine." After a pause, he added, "He used to act like that, only it didn't end with a harsh word. Someone always ended up bleeding or... or dead."

"The Dark Lord was far from sane, Draco."

"I know that!" He shouted, then turned his head away. "I know that," he repeated more calmly, "better than you think."

"Then you also know that it's only natural for people to get snappish," Severus replied with a pointed look in his direction. "Hermione wasn't and isn't going to hurt you. In fact, she asked me to help you."

Draco's expression was guarded when he turned towards Severus. "And what did she have in mind?"

"She hadn't gotten that far. I told her I was planning on making you an offer, and she agreed with it."

"She did, huh?" Looking briefly out past the fence line, Draco turned back towards Severus warily. "What... kind of an offer?"

Severus nodded back towards the house. "Stay here. Get your bearings. And accept my offer to become my apprentice; I am in desperate need of help, and cannot rely on Hermione any more than I already am."

Draco just stared at him.

"Of course, if this doesn't sound like something you'd be interested in-"

Letting out a relieved sob, Draco turned away and covered his eyes with his hand. Severus stood patiently as his godson attempted to compose himself enough to answer. Minutes passed before, sniffing, Draco stood up straight and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Why?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why go out of your way, when I've done nothing-"

"You don't have to have done anything for me to care about you, Draco. I wasn't bullied into being your godfather, and I didn't watch you grow up only to abandon you when you need me most."

Draco was shaking his head. "That year, you were trying to help me, and I-"

Severus raised a hand. "We've already discussed all that. What I want to know now is, are you staying?"

"I..." A range of emotions crossed Draco's face, and he looked back at the house longingly. "Why offer me an apprenticeship? And don't feed me a line about your workload," he added as he looked back. "I know that's absolute codswollop."

Laughing softly, Severus tipped his head in acknowledgement. Then, sobering, he said, "I know your plan was to go into the ministry like your father, and I know that opportunity has been taken from you. An apprenticeship would give you a chance at a career; a potions mastery would open up many doors for you."

"That's... very kind of you, Uncle," Draco whispered. "Thank you."

Severus simply nodded.

"So if I'm going to move in," asked Draco with an attempt at flippancy, "do I finally get to know how you ended up with Granger, of all people?"

Sighing, Severus ran a hand through his hair. While he agreed with Hermione that he would be the better of the two to explain it all, he was still reluctant to share such a personal part of his life with anyone. The only people he had truly opened up to in the last two decades were Hermione and Minerva, and they only managed it through unrelenting Gryffindor stubbornness. It was not something he did easily, but it was becoming an annoyingly frequent occurence post-war to share his innermost thoughts with others.

Though if anyone deserved the truth from him, it was Draco. The last few years had strained their relationship, and opening up about this could put them on the path of repairing that damage. He didn't fight so hard to get him out of Azkaban just to shut him out entirely.

"All right," he relented, gesturing towards the bench against the wall. "Shall we get comfortable?" Taking a seat, he waited until Draco joined him before saying, "I'm not giving you all the details. Some things aren't mine to say, and some are just for me."

A quick glance told him Draco was listening with interest. Staring at the ground, he leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs and began. "It started... gods, it started the moment I woke up in St Mungo's..."

To say the energy in the kitchen was awkward would have been highly underselling it. The three occupants of the cottage sat around the small wooden table, Hermione and Severus in their usual spots and Malfoy between them. Not a word had been spoken since they had taken their seats and, not knowing exactly what had been discussed outside, Hermione poked at some egg on her plate, counting down the seconds until she could politely excuse herself.

Before long, Severus set down his fork and cleared his throat. "Right. It's time we all talked."

"About what?" Hermione asked, thankful for any distraction.

Severus pointed between her and Malfoy. "About you two."

"What about us?" Malfoy asked incredulously, and Severus raised an eyebrow in response.

"Hermione," he addressed, turning to her, "Draco has accepted my offer to move in."

"Oh, that's good!" she said, giving Malfoy an encouraging smile.

His eyes narrowed in response, and her smile faltered.

"That!" Severus said, pointing again at Malfoy. "That's what I'm talking about!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Your face said enough." Severus nodded towards Hermione. "She was genuinely pleased for you, Draco, yet you jumped immediately to suspicion."

Malfoy leaned back, crossing his arms defensively. "Can you blame me? We aren't friends. Why should she be happy for me?"

Hermione whipped her head towards Malfoy, incensed. "I can be happy for someone even when it doesn't benefit me to do so, you pompatic-"

"And you!" Severus pointed at Hermione next, bringing her up short. "You need to stop reacting so defensively at every comment he makes. You aren't school children anymore. Learn to let it go."

"So I'm supposed to just take the abuse without defending myself?"

"Oh no," Draco sneered, "did I insult you, princess? Hurt your little feelings?"

"Says the rich kid riding his father's coat tails," Hermione grumbled, shoving away from the table.

"Sit down!" Severus hissed through his bared teeth, and his effort to remain quiet struck her as odd before she noticed his eyes flickering towards a rather rigid Malfoy. With sudden realization, she collapsed back into her seat.

"So," Severus continued. "That went well. Shall we try that again?"

"What is the point of this, Severus?" she asked, rapidly growing tired.

"The point is that if you plan on continuing your weekend visits, and if you plan on having a residence here, Draco, you two are going to have to learn to get along." Looking between both of them, he continued, "The first thing we're doing is dropping the surnames. Their use only encourages the ties to years of dissention between the two of you. From now on, you are Draco and Hermione, and your past does not factor in on anything. Are we understood?"

"Yes, Professor," Draco said sourly, picking up his fork again and stabbing a sausage link in frustration.

Severus put his head in his hand and sighed tiredly. "Why do I even try?"

Hermione looked between the two men at the table- one sullenly pretending to be unaffected by his surroundings and one looking to be a single inconvenience away from kicking them both out- and felt her anger dissipate. "Because you just want a peaceful life, but we keep mucking it up." Turning to Malfoy - no, Draco - she said, "We both owe it to him to at least try to be civil."

Grumbling, Draco nodded in reluctant agreement.

"So, fresh start?"

Draco scrutinized her for a moment. He looked over at Severus, too, before setting his fork back down and stretching out a hand towards Hermione. When she took it, he gave it one firm shake and said, "The name's Draco. I'm new here."

Despite all of her frustrations, Hermione laughed. "Nice to meet you, Draco. I'm Hermione."

Draco smirked before dropping her hand. When he picked up his fork yet again, she swore she saw a spark of amusement in his eyes.

Impressed, she turned towards Severus. He gave her a grateful nod and stood, carrying his plate over to the sink. "Breakfast was lovely, Hermione. Wasn't it, Draco?"

"Erm, yeah, best I've ever had," he mumbled without looking up, and Hermione bit back a smile.

The tension lessened from that point on, but didn't completely disappear. Draco excused himself from the table shortly after, leaving his dishes on the table for someone else to clean up. Annoyed by this, Hermione bit her tongue and dealt with it quietly as a kindness to Severus, all the while imagining the best ways to tell him off. She could let it go. Once.

When she entered the living room a short while later, Draco was sprawled across the entire couch, his head propped up on a pillow and his feet dangling across the end. "Could you take up more room?" she asked casually as she plucked a book from the shelf.

"There are still places to sit," he replied dryly, turning a page of his own book.

Hermione leaned over the back of the couch, trying to get a glance at the cover. "What are you reading?"

"A potioneering guide."

"Are you trying to brush up for the apprenticeship?"

"Hmm."

"I wouldn't fret, you were always very good-"

Snapping the book closed, Draco glared up at her. "For someone who reads so bloody much, you sure don't care when someone else is trying to!"

"Oops," she mumbled as she watched him get to his feet and storm upstairs. Here she was trying to connect, and she just made it worse. Falling into the abandoned couch cushions, she sighed and cracked open her own reading. They would get the hang of things. She hoped.

A few chapters in, Hermione's focus was pulled away from the history of transfiguration in the fourteenth century by an insistent tapping on the window. A brown barn owl, laden with several scrolls, was struggling to gain purchase on the windowsill. Hermione rushed to let it in, and the bird practically fell into the house and onto the carpet. "Oh dear!" Hermione cried, bending down to remove the scrolls from the bird's legs. The owl regained its footing, shook itself with an air of embarrassment, and took flight again, soaring right back out the open window.

After closing the window, Hermione flipped through the scrolls in her hand. "Oh, it looks like there's one for each of us," she muttered to herself, before stepping into the hall. "Severus, Draco, the Ministry has sent us scrolls!"

"What for?" Draco called down the steps.

"I don't know, I haven't opened them yet." As she listened to the sounds of Draco's approach, she called out, "Severus? Did you hear me?"

"Later, Hermione," came the distracted response through the door. Leaving him be, she turned and handed Draco his scroll.

Sticking Severus' scroll in her pocket, she moved back into the living room. Draco followed, and they opened their scrolls together.

To Miss Hermione Granger,

Your presence is hereby required at the Ministry of Magic's Magical Law Enforcement for questioning related to the criminal actions of one Antonin Dolohov and Julien Gurth. Your time slot is on Tuesday, March the Sixteenth at 10:30 in the morning. Please arrive 15 minutes before your time to allow for a security screening. Excuses will be made for you in regards to your missed classes at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We hope this letter finds you well,
Davis Mathers
Lead Auror

Looking up from her scroll, she met Draco's eyes. He didn't look happy. "What does yours say?"

Sneering unpleasantly, he answered, "Apparently the Ministry isn't done with me, but this time it begs my assistance."

"Are you being called to testify as well, then?"

Instead of answering, he asked, "Are these the men who attacked you?"

"How do you-"

"Severus mentioned it, but he didn't tell me who."

"Oh." Wondering exactly how much Severus had divulged, she answered, "Yes, they are. And MacNair, but he's... well, he's dead."

Draco's eyes hardened. "Good. I hope he suffered."

A feeling of unease crept up Hermione's spine. She didn't want to know why Draco felt that way, but she was sure there was a very, very good reason for it.

"When is your time slot?" she asked, trying to move past that dark moment.

Draco glanced back down at his paper. "Monday the fifteenth, four thirty."

"That's odd; mine's the sixteenth. I wonder why they're breaking it up."

Draco shrugged, pocketing his summons. "It probably has to do with the sort of questions they'll ask. They'll want me to testify against them in regards to their war crimes, and you about their actions after."

Biting her lip, she turned towards the desk. "I wonder when Severus will be done in there," she mused as she pulled his scroll from her pocket.

"You aren't going to open his mail!" Draco looked so affronted at the thought that Hermione stiffled a giggle.

"No, I was just going to leave it here," she told him, moving to set the scroll down. But her hand stilled as she caught a glimpse of the letter resting open on his desk.

She did not register what Draco said to her next, nor when he repeated himself. Taking a shaky hand and lifting the letter, her eyes darted from line to line in confusion, and then in horror.

... my belief that Mr Weasley will not suffer too poorly from the potion if we...

... smaller doses of wolfsbane are being administered as you instructed...

... a bezoar on standby...

... what step of the brewing process are you currently on?

"No," she breathed, flipping through the contents of Severus' desk.

"What are you doing?" asked Draco, stepping forward. "I doubt Severus will appreciate that!"

"I don't very much care what he'll appreciate right now, Malfoy," she snapped, falling back into old habits in her panic. Finding nothing else criminalizing on the desk, she yanked open the top drawer and started to rifle through the stack of parchments. Sure enough, she found more letters.

Not only that, though, she also found notes. Pages and pages of his notes outlining possible alterations of the wolfsbane, and from what she could tell, it was all in regards to Ron.

They were giving Ron the Wolfsbane.

Ron was taking the Wolfsbane, and nobody told her.

"Draco," she said in a voice that shook, "go take a walk."

The sounds of angry footfalls preceded his lab door being thrown open and Hermione, fury in her eyes, waved a collection of parchments accusatorily his way. "What the hell is this?"

Setting his knife down slowly, he let out a long sigh before turning fully towards her. He knew what she had seen before he faced her and saw the evidence for himself. "I presume by your anger that you've figured that out for yourself."

Storming over to the table, she slammed the stack of parchments in between them both before jabbing a finger at them. "How could you even consider this, Severus? How could he? This is suicide!"

"Hermione-"

"No!" Turning her finger towards him, she snapped, "Don't you dare try to reason with me as if I don't know full well the effects this could have! We don't even know if he's been infected! You're feeding him poison!"

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her around to his side of the table. Ignoring her protests, he forced her into a stool and pulled out a larger stack of parchments from the end of the table. Shoving that under her nose, he tapped it insistently and simply said, "Read it."

"Why can't you-"

"I'm not arguing with you until you read the research I was given," he interrupted as he walked over to the sink. "Until you're fully informed of the situation, you have no hope of understanding my reasonings."

Grateful for her compliance, and willfully ignoring the obscene language he heard muttered under her breath, he washed and dried his hands before turning back around. Glancing at the far end of the table in which she sat, he took in the appearance of the altered Wolfsbane. It needed to sit undisturbed overnight, but its color was coming along nicely- he only hoped the witch didn't recognize it.

He turned towards Hermione once more, watching as she flipped through the parchments angrily. How had she found out? Clearly she had been in his desk, but why? I should have warded it, he thought sourly to himself as he waited nervously for her to finish. She was smart enough to understand the implications of this research, but would her understanding overpower her love for her friend?

The longer she read, Severus saw the lines of anger on her face fade away. In its place, a look of worry took form. Lip between her teeth, she shifted uneasily and looked back at some of the previous pages. "This is all highly experimental," she said, still scanning the pages. "To put him through this when it isn't known what could happen-"

"He's been made fully aware of all the risks, Hermione."

"How can you know that? How can you know this... Healer Smethwyck didn't sugar coat it for him?"

He took a deep breath, preparing himself. "I know because I... spoke to him personally."

Her head shot up. "You spoke to him? When?"

"A week ago. I made sure he understood exactly what he'd be risking."

"You've known for over a week and you didn't tell me?!" she shouted, her anger flashing once more.

"You aren't his keeper, Hermione!" he snapped back, and her eyes hardened at his tone. "His decision did not concern you; it was his to make and his alone!"

Hermione glared his way for a moment, taking in long, deep breaths. "You still should have told me," she said in a carefully controlled voice. "I would have let him make his decision. I wouldn't have liked it, but-"

Sinking onto a nearby stool, Severus put his head in his hand. "He specifically requested that I not tell you."

"... What?"

Bracing himself, he looked up into her wounded expression. "He didn't want you to worry," he told her softly, but clearly it didn't soothe the hurt she felt, because she threw the papers from her hand and stormed out of the lab.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath as he hurried to follow her. "Hermione, where are you going?"

She didn't bother to reply. Grabbing her coat and her bag, she turned towards the front door without a glance his way.

"You won't change his mind!" he called after her.

She paused, but didn't turn around. "I wasn't going to see him."

"Then where-"

"I'm going to see Harry. I need to know that I have one friend that trusts me still."

"Hermione-"

But she was gone before he finished saying her name, the slam of the door echoing through the nearly empty house.

It had grown increasingly difficult for Harry to traverse any fully wizarding institution, and today was no exception. It took them three times as long to reach Ron's room, only to be stopped yet again just outside it by a healer with a penchant for standing too close and babbling incessantly. Annoyed not only with the delay but with the woman's apparent obliviousness to who was standing right next to him, he threw Hermione a grateful look when she finally snapped, "Excuse us, but we need to speak with our friend before visiting hours end," and stepped rudely around her to grab the door handle.

"Thank you," he muttered to her as the healer ran off, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I swear, we can't take you anywhere," she muttered before throwing open the door.

Ron, propped up on a pile of pillows, looked up at them both as they entered and did a double-take when he spotted Hermione. Harry held up a hand in greeting. "Hey, Ron. How's the arm?"

"It's fine," he answered distractedly. "Hermione, shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"She's skiving off," Harry said as he plopped down on the chair next to the bed. This close, he could see a small sheen of sweat coating his friend's pale forehead. "Where's Claire? I didn't think she worked today."

"She's gone to get some lunch for herself. What do you mean she's skiving off?" Looking over at Hermione, who had remained standing with her arms crossed, he said, "You don't skip out on class. What's going on?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'll notice it's Saturday, Ron. I'm not missing anything."

"So you just came to see me, then?"

"She actually came to see me," Harry said. "It was my idea to come here and talk to you. I'll give you three guesses as to why."

A silence fell heavily between them all. Narrowing his eyes, Ron's gaze shifted over both of them. His voice grew hard when he said, "I don't know how you found out, but I'm not changing my mind."

Hermione tutted. "Why on earth not?"

Harry held a hand up to silence her. "Why didn't you tell us, mate?"

"Because it's my decision, and I didn't need any handholding while making it!" Ron snapped. "I know the risks. I understand what I'm doing. I thought about it for days before making up my mind. And I didn't tell you once I decided because I didn't want a confrontation like this one!"

Ron's voice had grown louder as he spoke, and Harry held his hands up. "Ron, I hear you loud and clear. We aren't here to question your decision-" Hermione huffed, but Harry ignored her. "We're your best friends. When something like this happens, we want to be there for you. In every step of the way."

"Yes," Ron hissed, "Hermione certainly seems open to the idea of supporting me."

"Well, you're being rash!" she snapped, and when Harry tried to silence her she glared his way. "No, Harry, let me say my part. Ron, is this really worth risking your life-"

"MY life, Hermione. Mine!" Ron jabbed a finger in his chest, sitting up straight and facing Hermione properly. "You don't have a say in what I do with my life! You negated that luxury when you broke up with me!"

Hermione gaped at him for a moment before dropping her arms to her side. "Just because I don't want to date you doesn't mean I don't want to be in your life! I'm still your friend!"

"Then act like a friend and support the decision I've already made!"

"I will not support you killing yours-"

"Did you even stop to think about why I'd want to be doing this?! You of all people should understand!"

Harry, who had been about to step in, paused as Hermione pulled back. "What do you mean?" she asked, quieter. "It's because of the werewolf risk, right?"

"Wrong."

"Ron," said Harry, noticing a slight tremor in his friend's arms. "Perhaps you should lay down. You look a little-"

"I'm fine, Harry," he snapped, before turning back to Hermione. "I assume Snape showed you the research despite me asking him not to?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I found it. He just had the decency to not deny it when I confronted him."

"But you read it?"

Looking impatient, Hermione asked, "So?"

"So, you didn't see the benefits to me participating in this experiment at all?" When she remained silent, he explained, "If I do this and live, we'll know it's possible for a human to survive the trials! We could further the research with someone who had been properly bitten! You of all people should see the value in that!"

Hermione was quite clearly stunned to silence, gaping at Ron like a fish as he fell back against his pillows with a grunt. "I thought that you'd be happy with my choice, once you figured that out."

Hermione put a hand over her mouth, speechless.

Harry slowly looked between the two of his friends. "So, is that why you're still here?"

Ron looked over at him and nodded. "I've talked to Bill a lot about his attack, and... well, with Remus..." Scratching idly at the bandages wrapped tightly around his forearm, he shrugged. "Healer Smethwyck wanted me to rest as much as possible before we began. He's been giving me strengthening potions and controlling my diet, hoping to give me enough reserved energy to fight off the worst of it. We started a few days ago."

"Ron-"

Whatever Hermione had been about to say was cut off when the door opened behind her. Carrying a tray laden with food, the small blonde newcomer pushed the door closed with her foot. "They didn't have any pies today, so I- Oh!"

"Hey, Claire," Harry greeted, standing. "How've you been?"

Striking blue eyes surveyed the room's inhabitants as Claire stepped forward. "I've been fine," she said stiffly, placing the tray on the night stand. "What's going on? Ron, you look flushed again. You know you should be resting."

Dragging Hermione towards the door, Harry assured her, "We were just leaving. Right, Hermione?"

"I, uh-"

"Thanks for stopping by." Claire's tone left no room for protest, and as she placed a delicate hand on Ron's forehead, Harry knew it was best not to linger.

"C'mon," he muttered to Hermione, tugging her to the door.

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are." They crossed the threshold, and Harry released her arm. "Claire is as scary as a Horntail when she gets that look in her eye. Trust me, you should have seen her after the incident. Even Mrs Weasley fell in line with her demands."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the door. "I thought she was supposed to be friendly."

Swallowing a laugh, Harry gestured her to follow him. "She's friendly outside the hospital, I promise."

They walked in silence, and when Harry glanced over, he saw Hermione was frowning at the ground, her arms still crossed. "What are you thinking?"

Glancing briefly over, she sighed and dropped her arms. "Do you really think that's why he chose the treatment?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Harry replied, "It would explain why Claire is so on edge."

"What does that mean?"

Harry looked back over his shoulder. "I can't see her ever being okay with someone taking that risk if it wasn't necessary. Ron's healer may be her superior, but she seriously dislikes him."

"I'm not a big fan of his either, right now," Hermione muttered. "Him or Severus."

Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione's shoulder, halting their steps. "Snape was only doing what Ron wanted him to do."

"He doesn't need to protect me!"

"He wasn't protecting you. He was protecting Ron."

Her lips thinned as she looked down the hallway. "He doesn't like Ron."

"So? He doesn't like me, either. He was still ready to die for me."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that it doesn't matter how much he likes someone. He's going to do what he thinks is right. And in this case, I think he made the right call."

A dangerous glint flashed in her eyes when she turned around to glare at him. "Are you serious?"

Harry exhaled and pulled her over to a nearby bench. "Look," he said as he pulled her down to sit next to him, "I don't love that Ron's doing this either, and I really don't like that he didn't think he could tell us about it. But this is important to him, and he wanted it done on his terms. You know he doesn't get that chance a lot."

Hermione stared blankly at him for a moment, then buried her head in her hands and groaned. "I know," she mumbled. Dropping her hands, she asked, "When the hell did you become so wise?"

"They make me do my own work at the office," he teased, eliciting an amused snort from his friend. Glancing at his watch, he frowned. "And speaking of, they'll be expecting me soon."

Hermione waved her hand at him. "Go, then. Save the world."

"Now there's an idea; I've been thinking of giving something new a try," he said with a grin. Placing a hand on her shoulder he asked, "You'll be okay?"

Her smile lingered comfortingly as she nodded. "I'll be okay."

The front door was unlocked when Hermione returned, and she slid inside quietly. The soft click of the latch seemed to echo in the silence, and she briefly wondered if anyone was home before muffled footsteps reached her ears and Severus hurried into the hall from the living room. "You came back."

"I did." They stared at each other for a moment, and she took in his wide, questioning eyes and hesitancy to come closer before she added, "Is that all right?"

"Of course it's all right," he replied. "I just... didn't expect it."

"Yeah," she muttered, averting her gaze as she removed her coat. "I didn't much expect it either."

Severus glanced quickly up the stairs before gesturing behind him. She followed him into the living room without a word, and wasn't surprised when he cast a silencing spell around them. He faced her and opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head as he turned away.

Hermione crossed her arms tightly against her chest and waited, wishing for him to speak first. She didn't have to wait long. His fingers grazed the back of the couch and he simply uttered, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "I want to hear it from you, Severus. I want to hear what you have to say."

She frowned at his back as he said, "You didn't care to hear it before."

"Well, I'm listening now!" Tired of talking to the back of his head, she strode forward and grasped his arm, pulling him from the couch. "Look at me. I'm here, aren't I? What does that tell you?"

He studied her face before stepping away from her, rounding the couch and heading towards the drinks cart. "Can I get you anything?"

"Yes, because alcohol will really improve this conversation."

"Being sober isn't doing me any favors," he muttered before downing a finger of firewhiskey.

Hermione moved to sit on the couch, glaring into the fire until a glass was shoved rather aggressively into her line of sight. "I didn't say I wanted anything."

"You didn't have to."

Despite her frustrations, Hermione exhaled in amusement. Quirking her lips, she took the proffered glass and sipped at the harsh liquor. It eased her tension immediately.

Severus sat in his wingback chair, a refilled glass in hand. He stared at Hermione for a few seconds, then sat forward, his elbows on his knees. "I despise the idea of causing you pain," he told her softly. "I didn't make this decision lightly. None of us did. Please believe that."

"Of course I believe that," she whispered, looking down at her glass. "I know you too well to think otherwise."

"Minerva brought it to my attention first. Do you remember her lingering after sending you through the floo?"

"That's what she wanted?"

He nodded. "I gave it an evening's thought before deciding it was too risky. I couldn't bear the thought of-" He shook his head and sipped his drink. "I sent Smethwyck my refusal shortly after. Only he isn't one to accept disappointment."

"You aren't exactly one to fold, though," she countered, and his lips twitched in agreement.

"Reitia nearly sprained a wing carrying his research to me, along with his reply full of platitudes and pleas. I almost tossed it aside, but curiosity got the better of me." He gestured her way. "You saw enough of the research to hopefully understand what enticed me to this project. I might be the only potioneer in all of Europe to have brewed the Wolfsbane as often as I have, and with my penchant for adaptation and natural talent at potioneering-"

"Now who's showing off?" Hermione uttered under her breath, and he arched an eyebrow at her. "Apologies. Continue."

Rolling his eyes, he explained, "I knew I was the best - possibly only - person qualified to work a project like this. Before I knew it, I was filling his flaws with work-arounds and adapting his plans to become more efficient - essentially, I became thoroughly lost in the thrill of a project."

Hermione gave him a scathing look. "My friend is not a project, Severus!"

"You don't think I know that?" he snapped back, before shaking his head. "Why do you think I went to him personally, to ensure he understood what he was signing up for? I wasn't about to risk his life if he wasn't entirely on board!"

Hermione looked down at her knees, taking that in. "So you think he's well informed, then? He's thought this through enough?"

"He'd better have," he mumbled into his glass before taking a swig. Swallowing, he looked over and said, "He showed a remarkable amount of caution and didn't give me an answer until I absolutely needed one. I'm quite sure he's thought this through."

Sighing heavily, Hermione sank back into the cushions. "Well, as long as he's thought about it, I guess."

After a stretch of silence, she looked over to find Severus staring at her. "What is it?"

"Would it have been better if I had told you?"

Staring into the fire, she thought about that for a few minutes. "No," she finally decided. "Ron needs to know that he can trust you. I don't love how I found out, but at least this way he knows you can keep a promise."

"Does he?"

She nodded. "Harry and I paid him a visit. Ron hadn't told him, either, but Harry understood why. God, it infuriates me that he handled all this so much better than me. When did he become the rational one?"

Severus snorted. "I suppose everyone has their moments."

"You've made a friend in him, you know."

"Oh I highly doubt that!"

Grinning, she amended, "Maybe 'friend' isn't the right word. But he did come to your defense when I was ranting." Finishing off her drink, she met his eyes and asked, "Now that I know, can I know everything? The research, the procedure, what's happening when?"

Taking a deep breath, Severus nodded. She smiled gratefully. "Thank you. What stage is he on right now?"

"He's about three days into the original Wolfsbane. His doses are smaller, but not by much. The night before the full moon, he's to take a carefully altered Wolfsbane that will hopefully give him enough strength to burn through the theorized lycanthropy without overdoing it."

"Overdoing it how?"

Severus looked down at his hands. "The main concern is overexertion to the point of heart failure. He has to have a certain level of cardiac performance before the potion is administered or it will be considered too risky and he'll be refused treatment."

Hermione swallowed nervously. "Are there any other safeguards in place?"

"As many as can be prepared for."

She nodded. "That's good. When do you work on the potion next?"

Severus glanced up at the clock on the mantle. "Not for another two hours."

"Do you think I could-"

"Absolutely not."

There was a hint of panic behind his eyes, and she frowned. "Why not?"

Severus didn't answer right away, instead taking their empty glasses to the drinks cart. Head down, he explained, "I am well accustomed to living with regret. Were something unfavorable to happen, I know I could survive it. I'm not of the belief that you could."

"Regret?" Hermione slowly stood from her seat. "Do you not think he'll make it?"

"I have every faith that our research is sound," he said carefully, "but there are many unknowns we cannot account for-"

"Then that's not on you!" she argued. "And I don't see why it would prevent me from helping."

"It'll already be unbearable having to face you if something goes wrong," he rushed, turning towards her. "I can't watch what it would do to you if you were involved in any capacity."

Her mind was racing a mile a minute, and she closed her eyes to try to better understand. "It would be unbearable to face me?" Surely he knew she wouldn't find him at fault? Finally, her eyes flashing open, Hermione pieced together what he was afraid of and stepped forward. "You think I'd leave you."

He shrugged stiffly and looked away. "It's not so outlandish an assumption."

"It's absurd!"

"Is it, though? If something goes wrong and Weasley dies-"

"Don't say things like that!"

"If Weasley dies," he emphasized, "would you honestly be able to look at me again, knowing I was involved in his demise?"

"You wouldn't be responsible-"

"I brewed the potion!" he shouted, gesturing towards the lab. "I hand delivered the cause of his death!"

"Can we please stop talking hypothetically?" she cried, falling back onto the couch. "It's sending me into a panic attack."

Severus turned abruptly towards the fire, muttering a quiet apology. "It's fine," she said, rubbing her chest. "I just... need not to think like that."

"Do you see my point though, Hermione?"

Sighing, she crossed her arms and sank into the cushions. "I can see where that assumption wouldn't sound quite so outlandish," she admitted grudgingly. "All right, if it means that much to you-"

"It does."

"-then I won't help."

A/N: I hope a nice long chapter makes up for the fact that it took me eons to post it. I thought my kid was busy before... I seriously underestimated her.