A/N: Hi! Sorry for delaying again. My grandfather had a heart attack a few weeks ago, so there's been a lot of trips to the hospital to see him and lots of family gatherings. He's doing much better, but is understandably upset that he isn't able to go home.

Thank you for the continued reviews!

Bound to Him

Chapter 63

"The whole family," Ginny murmured sadly as she sank against the table. "It's so horrible to think about."

Her roommate nodded in agreement as she prodded at a glop of porridge in her bowl.

"I know it's awful to say," the redhead continued a minute later, "but I'm glad there weren't any children at the house."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I suppose that is something to be thankful for."

"… ferret-faced bastard knows something."

The two witches glanced up as Harry and Ron claimed seats nearby. The latter nodded lamely while the former continued muttering under his breath.

Ginny set down her spoon and leaned forward to peer around Neville. "What did you say, Harry?"

While he launched into his account of following Draco through Hogsmeade, Hermione let out a slow breath and allowed her gaze to drift in the direction of the Slytherin table. Her stomach turned slightly as she noticed how the blonde pureblood was sitting in silence as he stared at his breakfast. After a few minutes, she could no longer take her friend's bitter ramblings.

"Harry," she snapped, fixing her gaze on his face, "you don't know what happened."

"It's in the bloody paper, Hermione," he growled back. "The entire Wizarding World knows what happened."

"But they don't know who exactly is responsible, and neither do you."

"It was the Death Eaters, Hermione," Harry explained, holding up the Daily Prophet where the image of the Morsmordre could be seen floating over the rooftops in Hogsmeade. "They broadcast it themselves."

"Yes, but you're accusing Draco Malfoy of having something to do with it. By your own account, he returned to the castle several hours before the Morsmordre was cast."

"Doesn't mean he wasn't meeting up with Daddy and his friends in the forest beforehand," the boy pressed.

She let out a huff of air and shook her head. "You don't know that, Harry. For all we know, Remus could've been right about what he was doing."

"You mean sucking face with some ugly tramp?" Ron smirked. "I doubt it."

Well, does anyone know where Lavender was at the time? Though the comment would have made her feel better for a moment, Hermione knew better than to actually verbalize it. Instead, she took a deep breath and folded her arms. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't start rumors about a person when they may very well be innocent."

"It's Malfoy, Hermione," Harry countered. "I doubt he was even innocent in his stupid mother's womb. You shouldn't waste your breath defending the scum."

While Ron gave a quiet chuckle, the bushy-haired witch closed her eyes briefly and willed herself not to scream or start crying. When she opened them again and looked back across the hall, she noticed with some trepidation that the boy in question had disappeared from the Great Hall.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Severus paused at the top of the staircase when he witnessed his student escaping the Great Hall. Remembering his conversation with Hermione the night before, he exhaled a slow breath before clearing his throat. When the boy suddenly looked in his direction, he descended one step. "A word."

Draco bore a pained expression but nodded his head and followed him in silence down into the dungeons. Once reaching the office, he slunk into the room with his eyes fixed upon the floor.

After warding the door and casting a Muffliato over the room, the man strode over to his desk. "I had an audience with the Dark Lord yesterday evening. It seemed that he was as surprised by the event in Hogsmeade as you were. The matter has since been addressed."

"Addressed how?" the pureblood murmured, chancing to raise his eyes to his professor.

"In the usual manner," he replied dismissively before pulling open a drawer and grabbing the envelope he had placed there earlier that morning. "I have something for you."

Draco frowned in concern as he took the envelope, and he pinched his lips together at seeing his name penned in his mother's handwriting. Almost immediately, he stuffed it into the pocket of his robes.

"There's something else I believe you should see," Snape murmured quietly as he produced Narcissa's letter to him from his own pocket.

The boy stared at him quizzically as he accepted the folded parchment. His eyes widened upon opening the letter, and after a brief moment he collapsed into the wooden chair with a visible pallor. A few tears formed in his grey eyes as he began muttering while he read. "Mother, no! Why did you do this? No no no! Oh gods, Mother."

Upon reaching the end of the letter, Draco immediately snapped his watery, panicked gaze to the man standing behind the desk. "Please! Please don't tell him! Please! I'll do anything! Anything you want, just don't turn her in! Please, sir!"

Severus took in an uncomfortable breath as he finally claimed his own seat. While watching a tear trickle down the blonde's cheek, he folded his arms to his chest. "I need more information."

"I'll tell you," the boy gasped, leaning forward. "Sir, whatever it is you want from me, I'll tell you."

"If I opt not to turn in this letter, I need to know that I can trust her not to betray me," he replied. "Intentionally or not."

"She won't!" the young wizard exclaimed immediately. "You can trust her, I swear."

"And just what proof is there that I can?"

Draco swallowed slowly and shifted in the chair. "She can hide it."

"Your mother is an Occlumens?"

The boy paused a moment and then nodded. "She taught me."

"Is your father aware of this?"

He shook his head. "No, he doesn't know. Neither does Aunt Bella. Mother told me never to tell anyone, but obviously she trusts you enough to… Erm, she started teaching me Occlumency after my seventh birthday. It was our little secret, she said. Father never found out, because he really wasn't home very much then. He was always at the Ministry or somewhere, and if he did ever ask about anything, she just told him that we had been working on my etiquette. He never asked for any more details."

"You've been occluding since you were seven?" Severus muttered in disbelief.

"Well, I don't know if I could do it then," he shrugged. "But she certainly made me start practicing control – emotions, expressions, and things. Every so often, she'd instruct me to lie to Father about something just to see if he could tell I was doing it or not."

"At seven?"

Draco let out a sigh and rubbed his face. "Father started talking about the Dark Lord possibly returning, and he left me at home for basic lessons. After a few years, he started taking me with him, so she didn't have time to do it then. She must have known that would happen, I guess. It wasn't until the summer before last year, though, that she started testing me."

"She is a Legilimens as well?"

"She says she's not very good at it, but she can do some. She was scared to try it when I was younger, but after… after Father was summoned again, she said time was running out."

Snape leaned against the side of his chair. "Do you know who instructed her?"

"She taught herself."

The man's eyebrows rose significantly. "In Legilimency as well?"

"That's why she was so nervous to use it on me," the pureblood stated with a small smirk of reminiscence. "She gave me a nosebleed and nearly vomited on me the first few times. I think we both had a migraine for days afterward."

"And you? Can you keep the Dark Lord out?"

Draco grimaced and pulled on a handful of his hair. "Yes."

The spy sat forward immediately and studied his student. "He has tested you?"

"A few times."

"And you actively lied to him?"

The younger wizard sighed. "I hid some things."

"What things?"

"About Granger," he replied. "I hid the… lake because you clearly didn't tell him, and I thought he would punish Mother for what I did. And I hid the gift she gave me at the carriages because… I don't know. I just thought I should."

The Potions Master drew in a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. While the boy's account certainly supported Hermione's suspicions, it did not definitively prove that Narcissa could keep their collusion a secret. If she could train her son to occlude both the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore, the two greatest Legilimens he had encountered in the Wizarding World, he could not completely dismiss her capabilities. And since Hermione wanted to give the woman a chance, he would do it.

"Sir?"

Dropping his hand back to his lap, Severus fixed his expectant gaze on his student.

"Are you going to give him this?" His lower lip trembled slightly as he pushed the letter back across the desk. "He'll kill her if you do. Please, don't… don't kill her."

Hesitating momentarily while he re-folded and stowed the letter away in his robes, the dark-haired wizard shook his head. "I will keep it safe."

"Oh gods, thank you," the boy cried, sinking against the desk. He covered his face for several seconds and then moved further back onto his seat. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "Everything Aunt Bella says about you… is she right?"

"I highly doubt it," he sneered.

Draco swallowed nervously and held one arm with the other. "Which side are you really on?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. The spy rolled his shoulders and tilted his head. "I'm on my side."

The blonde stared at him critically. "If you're only working for yourself, then how can I know that you won't betray her?"

"I have had evidence of her betrayal in my possession for twelve hours and have now shown it to you," he stated casually. "Had I wanted to avoid having my own loyalties questioned, I would have surrendered it to the Dark Lord the moment I read it. I can no longer do so without being considered guilty by association."

Malfoy exhaled and squeezed his own arm. "And I can't turn you in, because he'll kill her with you."

"Indeed."

"So I'm stuck with you now, is that it?"

A small smirk appeared on the professor's face. "It would appear so."

"And you really are trying to bring him down?" he pressed. "Like Aunt Bella says?"

Severus shifted in his seat as he considered just how truthful to make his response. "The nature of my position is such that I am simultaneously working for and against each side, which essentially means I work for neither."

The boy's nose wrinkled in confusion. "How the fuck does that answer my question?"

"It means, Draco, that I hold information in my head that could critically wound either side should I choose to reveal it," he fibbed. "But I will not do so until I am assured of my future security. Since neither side appears particularly promising yet, I will keep my mouth shut until there exists no doubt in my mind."

"So you're just playing both until you can side with the winner?"

"As any Slytherin worth his salt would do."

Snorting under his breath, Draco stared at the wall. "Father always talked about how glorious the world would be when the Dark Lord took his rightful place… how we would hold a place of honor at his side… how the House of Malfoy would be even more powerful and more respected than it ever was… and now look at us. Look at what a fucking lie that turned out to be. There's no honor or power or respect or glory, and there never will be, will there?"

When Snape shook his head, the boy scowled and then glared at his left forearm. "He's turned us all into fucking little house-elves, hasn't he? We come running when he calls and bend over backwards to do everything he says. He punishes us if we don't exactly meet his expectations, or if he's angry, or if he's just fucking bored. And not only do we take the abuse while apologizing profusely for our supposed inadequacies, we come back for more! We practically trip over ourselves to please him and thank him for every chance for failure that he gives us! We keep doing it because we think eventually we'll earn his approval for all of time, but we're all just going to eventually wind up with our fucking heads on his wall!"

"Well, you've certainly gained a surprising amount of insight," Severus sighed, resting his elbows upon his desk.

"Except we're worse than bloody elves, aren't we?" Draco murmured softly, meeting his gaze. "We weren't born into our servitude; we fucking chose it."

"Many of us made that decision, yes," the man agreed, "but I would argue that there are a number of individuals entering his service who were not offered an alternative."

The Malfoy heir blinked as he drew in a slow breath. "Yeah, well it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? We're all going to suffer just the same."

A tense silence fell upon the room for several minutes until the blonde finally spoke again. "Mother's right – it doesn't matter who wins because Father's damned us either way."

Seeing the rage burning in the youth's grey eyes, the professor cleared his throat. "Draco… despite any issues that may have arisen between your father and myself, I feel I should tell you that your father was hardly older than yourself when he joined the Dark Lord's circle. It was a logical progression after eighteen years of hearing the same rhetoric from your grandfather. I believe you should also know that the Dark Lord was not always so overt in his displays of displeasure. He was charming and intelligent, and he knew well enough to say everything that you wanted to hear. He was very good at making people believe in him and in everything he promised."

"So you're saying that Father was just an idiot, and that he's sealed our fate by accident?" Draco scoffed.

"Your father may have done many despicable things in his life, but I know that he would never have intentionally hurt you or your mother," he stated truthfully. "Someone wise told me recently that your fate is up to you to decide, and that it would be a mistake to think otherwise. Clearly, your mother has come to a similar conclusion, so I think it would be an insult to her person if you simply resign yourself to Death."

Tears slipped down the blonde's cheeks as he covered his face. "How could you possibly help us?"

"In any manner I can," Snape promised. "I will use whatever influence I have with the Dark Lord, and should he fall, your mother's efforts can only benefit you in the eyes of the Order."

With a small shrug, the young wizard wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "Does Granger know?"

The Potions Master paused as he realized that he had already been far more honest with the boy than he had originally intended. The resemblance between Draco and his younger self was suddenly unmistakable, and it had thrown him. Uncertain as to how the boy would react to knowing that his private affairs had been shared with his former rival, though, he opted to lie. "I have not decided whether or not to tell her."

"Can she keep it safe?"

He took in a deep breath as he leaned back in his chair. "I would not presently be alive if she could not."

Draco slowly nodded as he picked at his sleeve. "If you want to tell her, you can."

Severus opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a knock on his door. As his student noticeably flinched, he cleared his throat. "We will continue discussing this after supper on Tuesday. Until then, you do not speak to anyone regarding anything about the Dark Lord or what we have discussed, understand?"

After receiving a nod, the man cancelled the privacy charms. "Enter!"

McGonagall's eyebrows rose slightly as she stepped into the room and caught sight of the pureblood standing up from the wooden chair. She offered him a mumbled word of greeting as he shuffled past her, and once the door was closed behind him, she turned her gaze to her colleague.

The Slytherin reapplied the Muffliato and then folded his arms. "Something bothering you, Minerva?"

"There happens to be a plethora of things bothering me," she grumbled while approaching his desk. "Chief among them is why Remus, Kingsley, and Miss Tonks are presently under the impression that Hermione and that boy are romantically involved when I know damn well that is impossible. Care to explain?"

"Before you start condemning him, Minerva, I swear to you that Draco did not have anything to do with last night's murders."

"As reassuring as that is," the witch stated, "that isn't what I'm asking."

Snape closed his eyes momentarily and rubbed his forehead. "In addition to keeping an eye on the Dark Lord's followers, I am also responsible for monitoring their children. As per Albus's suggestion, Hermione has provided some assistance in that task. As usual the wolf stuck his nose where it did not belong and came up once more with the wrong conclusions. Hermione and I felt, however, that his false knowledge was safer than the truth, and so we may have encouraged the assumption."

"And Malfoy?" she questioned. "Is he aware of this supposed relationship?"

"He is," he nodded. "Draco was previously aware of our circumstances thanks in part to his father and his aunt. He has, at times, sought Hermione out when he is in need of my counsel and is otherwise unable to locate me."

The Deputy Headmistress frowned as she rested her hand on top of the wooden chair. "And just what does he require counsel –"

"Minerva," the man cautioned. "I have promised you that if I feel you need to be aware of something, I will tell you. At this present moment, Draco's fears are not of your concern."

"His fears?" She took in a deep breath and shook her head. "I must say I'm mildly surprised, Severus. You've never truly defended that boy to me in private before."

His dark eyes met hers as he leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "Despite all of his prior posturing and bullying, that boy is still a child… a child who spends a significant portion of every day trying to figure out how to protect his mother from the consequences of his father's actions. And with every day that passes, that boy becomes more and more cognizant of the fact that he is utterly powerless to stop it, and that she will die as a result of his inadequacies unless someone stronger steps into help him and a bloody miracle occurs. That, Minerva, is why I will defend him to you, and why I will do what I can to keep his name from being slandered any more than it has to be."

McGonagall stood as though she had been frozen in place with her mouth parted and her sad eyes locked onto his face. After a moment, she let out a tired puff of air and closed her eyes. "Severus, I am sorry. I didn't know that… I did not realize that Narcissa was under immediate threat."

"You were not meant to," he muttered while shifting in his chair. "Albus does try to avoid discussing such things with the Order. Humanizing the enemy only serves to muddy the water, making it that much harder to do what is necessary when it is expected. Black and white are simple, but when everything becomes shades of grey… suddenly the line between good and evil becomes entirely arbitrary."

The witch blinked rapidly and wiped her face. Stepping around the edge of his desk, she perched against it and then touched her hand to his cheek. "I think it is mightily unfair to the rest of us that you are so vastly intelligent and yet highly restricted from sharing your insight."

Almost immediately, he turned his head away from her. "Well, the list of those who would be willing to listen is exceptionally short when said insight comes as a result of a lifetime of experience at the darker end of the spectrum."

"Poppycock," she stated, crossing her arms. "I highly doubt that there are many of us who claim to be any lighter than you are. And those who do are honestly full of shite."

Severus donned the briefest of smirks before pulling an empty envelope out from his second drawer.

"Does Hermione know why you're helping him?" Minerva asked while watching him remove the letter from his pocket and slip it into the envelope.

"She knows why he needs my help, yes."

"So that's why she's agreed to feign romance?"

He nodded as he used his wand to charm the envelope closed. "It was her idea actually."

"Really?"

"I don't know why you're surprised," the man commented. "She's always had a penchant for helping the unfortunate and down-trodden."

The witch snorted softly as she pushed away from the desk. "Yes, but there is a bit of a difference between distributing hats and sacrificing your sexual reputation."

"In method perhaps, yes," he murmured. "In intention, no."

She gave a strained smile as she started moving toward the door. "Well, I'm terribly behind in my marking, so –"

"Minerva."

"Yes?" she asked, turning back around to see that he was holding out the envelope to her. "Are you going to tell me what this is?"

"Not yet," Snape replied. "Just keep it safe for now."

"Alright, I'll put it with the other one." After slipping the item into her pocket, she cleared her throat and glanced back at him. "You know, I did always enjoy having Narcissa in my classes. She was one of my best students, and I was highly disappointed when she was not allowed to make use of her talents."

Upon reaching the door, the woman paused briefly. "Would I be wrong in assuming henceforth that Draco is his mother's son?"

The Slytherin Head inhaled deeply and shook his head. "No. You would not be wrong."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"No flobberworms this time?" Hermione asked as she stepped into the Room of Requirement.

The dark-haired wizard snorted quietly and shook his head.

"Not a flying lesson, right?" she stated hopefully as she noticed that the ceiling was not unusually high. "It's not a Thursday."

Severus fixed her with a trying look and crossed his arms. "Just for that, I ought to change the schedule."

"Oh, please don't," the girl pleaded, dropping her shoulders. "I ate far more meatloaf than I would have if I had known I would be flying. I really don't want to see it again."

With a grimace, he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't fret, Granger. I am no more inclined to see your supper reappear than you are."

"Okay." She perked up slightly as she glanced about the room. "What are we doing then?"

"Training," the man responded cryptically as he removed his teaching robes and cast them over a chair. "But first, we need to have a conversation."

Hermione raised one eyebrow as she began unfastening her school robes. "Alright. What about?"

"I wanted you to know that you were correct regarding Narcissa Malfoy," he explained. "I spoke with Draco yesterday morning."

Her eyes brightened noticeably. "So she is an Occlumens? And we can trust her?"

"She is an Occlumens," Snape replied. "Whether or not we can trust her remains to be seen."

"But we're giving her a chance?"

He nodded before adding, "As foolish as that may be."

"What about the letter?" she asked. "What do we do with that? If it falls into the wrong hands…"

"If it fell into the wrong hands, we would all be dead," the wizard stated, "but if it were destroyed, there would be no evidence beyond our testimony that it existed and that Narcissa Malfoy does not deserve to spend the rest of her life in Azkaban. Bearing that in mind, I have removed it from my possession and have given it to Minerva for safekeeping."

"She knows about Narcissa?"

The Slytherin clasped his hands behind his back as he answered. "Minerva knows that she is in danger, yes, but she is not aware of her duplicity. The letter is in an envelope that can only be opened by myself except in the event of my demise, at which point only she can open it. I took similar measures regarding the whereabouts of your parents."

Her eyes sought out his as she moved closer to him. "So if you and I… don't make it, she can help take care of them?"

When he nodded slowly, the girl flashed a grin and briefly slipped her arms around him. He contrived a sigh until she released him and then cleared his throat. "It appears you've made an impression on Draco."

"Well, I did punch him once," Hermione smirked up at him. "But I'm sure you're referring to something else."

"Indeed," the man replied. "He gave me permission to tell you about his mother. I think he trusts you."

A small smile played at her lips as she took a step backwards. "He doesn't really have anyone else, and it's not like I can tell anyone else. If he trusts you, he has to trust me."

"It's more of a feat than you make it sound," Severus chided before rolling his shoulders. "Have you discovered anything of interest while in the library?"

The witch let out a deep sigh and scratched her head. "I don't know. I managed to find most of the books yesterday, but I was hesitant to take any of them with me. I figured there would be a record somewhere, and if anybody checked… well, I don't know why they might, but if they did…"

"It is wise to be cautious."

"I thought as much," she mumbled. "So I decided that I would just read them while I'm there. Anyway, I think he's looking for something that has to do with wands. Two of the books, at least, have to do with wandlore. One of them, At the Heart of Magic, is rather poorly translated from German, I think, but the original was written by Igor Gregorovitch in the late 17th century, who must be an ancestor of the current wandmaker. I haven't gotten through much of it because the grammar gave me a slight headache, but the other one – The Wizard, or The Wand? – is rather fascinating so far. It's a rather detailed discussion about whether magical success is more dependent upon the wand or the wizard. The wand chooses the wizard, except in the cases where the wizard builds the wand. So is magical strength really dependent upon the wizard, the wand, or the wandmaker should the wandmaker not be the wizard?"

"Wandlore," Snape repeated, running a hand through his hair. "And the others?"

"Well, Gefeoht appears to be nearly as old as the school and is quite massive," the girl sighed. "I had to levitate it onto the table because it was too heavy to even pick up, let alone hold. It looked like an index of notable duels or battles over several centuries, so maybe if we had a better idea of what he was looking for, I could do a targeted approach. And I didn't get a chance to look at anything else."

He nodded in understanding. "It's a start, at least. See if you can discern any common threads that are not so bloody broad, and if whatever it is that the Dark Lord is looking for is not well-covered, I do not think it is a far leap to make that he may go after a more primary source of information."

"More primary," she stated. "You mean an actual wandmaker, don't you? Ollivander."

"Or Gregorovitch, or Baguette, or Poluchka, or Virgula," the wizard shrugged. "Why stop at just one? Why not collect the whole set? If you control those who are capable of creating the technology that allows the majority of individuals to apply their magic, then you essentially control the application of magic."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she considered his conclusion. "Oh… my… god. If he controls the wand supply, he can control who is or is not eligible to purchase wands. Children who aren't of pure enough families or of families that have opposed him could be barred from receiving them, which means they won't be able to learn how to use their magic because you have to have a wand to attend Hogwarts!"

"Forget Hogwarts," he grumbled. "Children have to have a wand in order to focus their magic at all. Entering into adolescence, with all of its bloody emotional and hormonal changes, without having any practice in controlling their magic is exceptionally dangerous. If I as a babe set a sodding sofa on fire, imagine what devastation or damage an uncontrolled teenager might be capable of producing by accident."

"Holy…" She trailed off as she gripped two handfuls of her hair. "Do you think that is what he intends?"

Severus let out a soft sigh. "Honestly, I rather doubt he has considered all of this yet. Of course, it is the desperate hope of the majority of his followers that those of supposed lesser blood will be barred from practicing magic, but I doubt that many of them have spent any time considering the ramifications of such restrictions."

"I doubt many of them care," Hermione spat. He nodded once in response, but said nothing. After a tense moment, the young witch took in a deep breath and flicked her eyes to his face. "What are you going to do?"

The wizard snorted sadly and rubbed his face. "I suppose I will have to somehow find a way to convince the Headmaster that the Order should keep a closer eye on Ollivander and the others without revealing either Narcissa's involvement or the motivation behind your present research."

Wincing at the thought of the task, the girl shifted on her feet. "How do you think you're going to accomplish that?"

"Well," he replied, scratching his forehead, "I inadvertently faked one summoning this term, so I might as well do so intentionally."

"He won't know the difference?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders. "He may request a Pensieve viewing."

"Does he not trust you to tell him everything?" she asked with a scowl. "That's ridiculous."

"Often it's under the guise of making certain I did not miss any subtle clues," he replied before donning a small smirk, "but given our present circumstances, one could argue that he has good reason not to trust the extent of my disclosure."

Hermione blushed slightly as she raised her chin. "Yes, but we're only doing it –"

"For the 'Greater Good'?" the man interrupted with a raised eyebrow. "He would only argue the same."

The young woman narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "Is there a reason why you're playing Devil's advocate?"

"Merely to remind you that while Albus Dumbledore is a manipulative, scheming bastard, he is still acting in the manner which he believes is best suited to bringing a favorable conclusion to the war." The Slytherin took in a deep breath and flexed his hand. "Despite what I may have claimed to Draco, I never kept anything regarding my service to the Dark Lord or the Order hidden from the Headmaster prior to last term. Though I have not necessarily agreed with all of his decisions or directions, I did nothing to disobey him because I recognized that I was nothing more than a tool at his disposal."

"But you're not –"

"Please allow me to finish," he stated, holding up his hand. "I have made more mistakes and bad decisions in my life than anyone could ever attempt to count, and despite all of the horrible wrongs I have done, Albus gave me the opportunity to make reparations. I am not foolish enough to believe that he did it for my benefit, but that he was willing to do it at all was enough to secure my loyalty.

"I have suspected since the beginning of my duplicity that my life would be forfeit upon the conclusion of the war, and until six months ago I had accepted that result. I will not, however, accept sentencing you to such a fate alongside me. I have already contributed to the death or suffering of a number of innocent persons, and I have no wish to add to my tallies. For that reason, I have kept a number of secrets from the Headmaster, but as it stands, I shall not betray him any further than I feel is absolutely necessary."

Hermione inhaled slowly and pinched her lips together as she took in his comments. A slight ache developed in her chest as he spoke, and she had to fight the urge to throw her arms about him once again. It pained her to know just how little he regarded his own life, and in the back of her mind she realized that he must have felt something similar whenever she had reflected upon her own death.

When she was certain that he had finished speaking, she swallowed heavily. "Severus, why are you telling me this?"

The wizard cleared his throat and fixed his dark eyes on her face. "Because until six months ago, I was fully prepared to sacrifice everything for Dumbledore and the Order, and should my use as a spy come to an end, to publicly renounce my allegiance to the Dark Lord. In the interest of keeping myself, and subsequently you, alive, I believe it would be best to maintain our appearance of support to both sides. I am taking a chance on Narcissa and her son, and Minerva as well, but I do not want to risk further suspicion from the Dark Lord or from Albus."

"I'm not sure that I understand what you're saying we should do," the girl frowned.

"I do not think there is anything further to do for Albus currently," he answered, "but in regards to pleasing the Dark Lord, you and I have thus far done the minimum. To our credit, we can claim that we are doing what we can without attracting attention, but as the Dark Lord has taken residence in the now Unplottable Malfoy Manor, he will have Bellatrix whispering in his ear with far greater frequency. While he will likely dismiss her suspicions as a product of our rivalry for the moment –"

"Eventually he will take her seriously," Hermione finished glumly. "So we should up the ante, you mean, so that you will have more credibility with him."

"So that we will have more credibility," Snape corrected quietly. "Until he is destroyed, your future depends primarily upon staying in the Dark Lord's favor. We must continue to prove to him that he can truly rely upon you as one of his, and not just because I commanded you to do so."

The girl closed her eyes and let out an uncomfortable breath. "So I need to pretend that my personal allegiance has fully abandoned Harry and shifted to him? Will he buy it, given that I, as a Muggleborn, would be betraying my entire upbringing?"

"The Dark Lord cares less about purity than he does about power," the Slytherin replied. "We will show him that you are a powerful witch, and it will only boost his ego to know that he has you under his control willingly."

"But isn't it a bit suspicious that I've suddenly switched sides?" she repeated, staring up at him in concern.

"Perhaps to some," the man shrugged as he slowly stepped closer to her. "But then again, I've had you entirely at my beck and call for half a year."

There was a small hitch in her breathing as he gently placed his fingers beneath her chin and leaned down to murmured in her ear. "I've told you secrets, shown you care, and given you pleasure. I've opened your eyes to the darker underpinnings of the Order and to the glories sold by the Dark Lord. I've convinced you that the Dark Lord shall value your worth, while Dumbledore would only view you as a pawn. I've taken you under my wing and into my bed… seduced you with the prospect of knowledge and magical prowess until that tiny voice in the back of your mind that wanted to trust me became the only thought in your mind. You distrust Dumbledore… you are devoted to me in mind and body… and you will be swayed to believe in the magnanimous power of the Dark Lord."

Hermione swallowed anxiously and balled her hands into fists against her side. "Severus."

"Yes?" he whispered.

"If you did not intend to dedicate the remainder of the evening to physically satisfying the bond," she stated carefully, "I would back away quickly."

Coughing loudly, the wizard immediately snapped to his full height and placed several feet of distance between them.

Closing her eyes briefly, she took in several deep breaths and worked to quell the arousal that had developed in response to his exchange. Once she felt she had been successful in that regard, she adopted an expression of censure. "Honestly!"

"My apologies," Severus stammered with a grimace. "Though, do you feel it has merit?"

"Oh, it has merit," she snorted with a roll of her eyes. "So much merit that if I weren't more certain of your present leanings I might think that was your bloody plan all along! You have an uncanny ability to supplement the truth with just enough suggestion to twist it into something entirely the opposite. It's brilliant, but frightening all the same."

Exhaling loudly, the girl amusedly shook her head upon noticing his smug expression. "Alright then, Mr. Seducer – just what did you have in mind for this evening?"

After giving her a small smirk, the professor crossed his arms. "The Dark Lord has expressed the desire to see you become a competent warrior. Everything I have taught you until now will benefit you, but one cannot expect to defeat an army of Death Eaters with Stinging Hexes or Jelly-leg Jinxes or Cutaneous Boil Curses. Needless to say, the curses I intend for you to practice this evening shall not be shared with Potter."

"Because it's Dark Magic?" she asked with a shiver.

"Because I created them, and the Dark Lord is exceptionally aware of that fact," Snape responded. "Others may consider these Dark Magic, yes, but not if used against a dark wizard. It's all about perception and intent, isn't it? A tickling charm, for instance, doesn't seem dark, does it?"

"Not really, no."

"But if it's applied for hours on end, it can be just as agonizing and demoralizing as the Cruciatus," he stated.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I suppose it could be."

"Oh, I assure you it is." As she looked at him in concern, he attempted to suppress the memory of being caught unawares in the fourth-floor lavatory and spending half an hour writhing on the floor while Potter and Black took turns casting the charm. Despite the twenty-odd years that had passed, he still disliked spending any time in that particular bathroom and plainly avoided it except in the case of student emergency.

"I'm sorry," the girl mumbled.

Severus sighed loudly and shook his head. "I do wish you would stop apologizing for things that occurred before your parents even thought about reproducing."

"Okay, fine. What are we starting with, then?"

The Potions Master dipped his head and then gestured to where the Room had provided several fabric dummies. "We'll begin with the Sectumsempra."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus stated without looking up from his cauldron. "Have a seat."

The blonde boy took in a deep breath after closing the office door behind him and then made his way to the familiar wooden chair. While a handful of minutes passed in relative silence, he grew increasingly nervous and began bouncing his right foot against the floor.

"My, aren't we agitated this evening?" his Head of House quipped upon finally claiming his own chair.

"A bit, yeah," Draco snapped, crossing his arms. After a minute of returning the man's stare, he dropped his hands back to his lap. "Have you determined anything about the… the extract?"

The professor leaned back in his chair. "I will attempt to concentrate the sample as much as possible over the next few days. Unfortunately, there is no accurate way to discern if it will, in fact, be lethal, since your aunt has blinded us."

"You can't test it?" the pureblood asked with a frown.

"On rodents, perhaps," he shrugged. "But a dose that kills a rat may not necessarily kill a man… especially one as powerful as Albus Dumbledore."

Malfoy dropped his gaze to his hands for several seconds. "How long?"

"Four days," Snape replied. "Any longer, and I run the risk of destabilizing the toxin, which would render it useless."

The boy nodded slowly before finally flicking his eyes toward his mentor. "And then what?"

The dark-haired wizard inhaled deeply and folded his arms to his chest. "Saturday morning, there is a staff meeting. He often takes a tea service. He won't notice if I slip something in his teacup."

"So we'll know then?"

Severus shook his head. "No, it is a slow to act, which will prevent anyone from determining the exact time of poisoning. It could take a day, or a week, or a month."

"Okay," he breathed, fisting his hands in his school robes. "And what if it fails?"

"Before I answer that," the man stated while leaning forward, "I need to know that you have no residual loyalty to your dear Aunt Bellatrix."

Draco looked to the desk top and gave a shake of his head. "Not anymore."

"Then you will allow her to take the fall."

The blonde narrowed his eyes in confusion. "How?"

The spy cleared his throat. "If I feign ignorance of your mission to the Dark Lord, how will she respond?"

"She'll rub your face in it that she knew and you didn't."

"And she'll boast of her personal involvement," Snape added. "The Dark Lord will know of her full role. Should the poison fail, I will be able to argue to the Dark Lord that your failure was entirely due to her involvement. And since the Dark Lord is already disappointed in her drawing undue attention, as evidenced by the most recent copies of the Daily Prophet, he will be likely to take it out on her."

"Likely?" the boy gulped.

"There is never absolute certainty with the Dark Lord. Likely is the best chance you have."

Though he bore an uncomfortable expression, Draco nodded in understanding. "So as far as he and Aunt Bella are concerned, I never spoke with you?"

"Dodged me at every turn, you little shit," Severus sneered with a tilt of his head.

The young wizard gave a small smirk and then scratched his head. "What do we do in the meanwhile?"

"We work on further developing your skills as an Occlumens."

"But I already –"

"Possess the basic ability to block intrusion, yes," the man interrupted. "But if you expect to live beyond your seventeenth birthday, you will need further instruction."

Malfoy's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

"The Mark burns now because you are not of age," Snape explained, flattening his hands against the desk. "With your present mindset, however, it will continue to burn on after you reach your majority as it will detect your disloyalty to the Dark Lord. I don't think I need to describe what might occur in that instance."

"Oh gods," the boy gasped while staring down at his arm in horror. "This fucking thing knows? Oh gods! What if he knows everything I –"

The Order spy leaned across the desk to yank on the blonde's hand and catch his attention. "It does not know anything yet. The magic requires willingness to serve in order for it to set in, but as you are still underage, you cannot freely consent to anything. He will suspect nothing until June, at which point you can be damned sure he will examine it."

"You think I'm suddenly going to kiss his feet and sing his praises?" Draco exclaimed in disbelief. "It may come as a shock to you, but I'm still going to hate his fucking guts come June!"

"I am aware of that, yes," the man sighed, releasing the boy's wrist, "which is why we're going to build your skills in the coming months. The Mark can take up to twelve hours to effectively sink in, so for twelve hours you are going to have to shut out every embittered thought you have regarding the Dark Lord and your service to him. For twelve hours, you are going to make yourself believe that you want to serve him… that serving him is the only way to keep your mother alive… that you want to please him. Once the magic is settled, your loyalty will be validated and you may continue breathing and subtly working to dismantle him."

His student let out a slow breath and blinked several times. "You… you can help me do that?"

Severus gave a solid nod of his head. "I can."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Could they not find anyone better to translate this stupid book? With a groan, Hermione set down the book and rubbed her eyes. She had been reading in the library since her Arithmancy class had been dismissed nearly an hour before and already she was developing a slight headache. With her classes and infirmary schedule, she had had little time to dedicate to the task since she had discussed it with Snape on Monday night. As such, she was no farther along in narrowing down what it was that Voldemort researching.

The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention, and she glanced up to notice a familiar redheaded wizard standing sheepishly at the end of her table. Surprised, she raised an eyebrow in question.

"Erm, hi," Ron mumbled.

"Hello," the girl replied succinctly.

"I… erm… was wondering if we could talk," he stated.

Hermione leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Well, if you're planning to shout at me, you can stuff it and go find Lavender. I don't want to get kicked out by Madam Pince."

"I'm not going to," the boy sighed. "I just wanted… well, firstly, I wanted to apologize."

Her eyes widened significantly. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it wasn't really your fault that you… erm… that I didn't hear you knock, and that you… erm… saw Lavender –"

"I really don't need the reminder."

Ron blushed and dropped his eyes to the table. "Yeah. Well, anyway, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault, and I'm sorry that I acted like a prat. I should have known that you wouldn't tell everyone… and really, I didn't mind that they knew, but Lavender –"

"I get it, Ronald," the witch grumbled. "Can we just not talk about anything that happened that night?"

"Right… okay." He shifted on his feet awkwardly and briefly met her eyes. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

Hermione rested her elbows on the table in front of her and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess so."

"Oh, good," the redhead exclaimed in relief as he dropped into the chair across from her. "Harry said you were really mad at me, and I thought maybe I had cocked things up for good. Erm, no pun intended."

"Oh god!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "Honestly, Ronald!"

"Shh!" he warned, casting a glance over his shoulder to see the librarian glaring in their direction. "You'll get yourself kicked out."

Dropping her hands to the table, the girl leaned forward and glared at him as she hissed under her breath. "And it would still be your fault, you arse! I swear on all that is holy, if you ever say that word around me again, I will hex yours!"

"Okay, okay," Ron laughed, holding up his hands. "I promise I won't... And I really am sorry for acting like such a prick."

Drawing in a sharp breath, Hermione took notice of the grin spreading across his face and kicked him swiftly in the shin. "Last warning, Ronald. Next time it will be an Engorgio."

"Merlin!" he cried, rubbing his leg beneath the table. "I think you get scarier with time."

"And don't you forget it," she stated with a smirk. "Now what else did you wish to discuss?"

"Erm, well, about the Apparition lessons… I'm sorry for that, too. It was my fault that Mum and Dad banned me from taking them." The boy scratched the back of his neck. "And Harry's told me why you aren't taking them, so I guess I shouldn't be so angry about it. It's really true that the Ministry can track that?"

The witch flicked her eyes about the nearly empty library before nodding her head.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled.

"My sentiments exactly," Hermione snorted.

Shaking his head in frustration, Ron leaned against the edge of the table. "So does this mean we're friends again?"

"I wasn't aware that we had ever stopped being friends," she stated. "Were you?"

"No, I guess not," he replied. "I really shouldn't have taken Lavender's word over yours. I mean, you're Hermione."

"Well spotted," the brunette grinned. "But she is your girlfriend."

The wizard gave a small shrug. "I suppose."

His friend narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What do you mean you suppose?"

"Dunno… she is a bit annoying really."

A bit? Hermione sighed lightly and rubbed her eyebrow. "Ron, tell me that you aren't planning to break up with her."

"Well, I've considered it," he said.

"Ronald!" she hissed, slapping the table top before casting an apologetic look to Madam Pince.

"What are you so upset about?" the boy stammered. "You don't even like her!"

The girl let out a huff of air as she sat back in her chair. "Whether I like her or not is irrelevant. She's had a thing for you since first year, for Merlin's sake. You can't just mess around with a girl and then drop her a moment later."

"It's not a moment later," he protested.

"You were pushing her up against the side of the greenhouse not three hours ago!"

His face flushed in response to the comment, and he grimaced. "You saw that?"

"Half the class saw it," she snorted. "In case you hadn't realized it, it's fairly easy to see through a greenhouse since the walls aren't entirely opaque!"

"Ugh… bollocks." Suddenly realizing which word had escaped his mouth, the gangly wizard quickly slapped his hands between his legs and stammered, "I swear, Hermione, I didn't mean to say that!"

A bright laugh escaped the witch as she shook her head. "I'm not going to hex you, Ron. I may hit you, though, if you do wrong by Lavender. Just because she and I don't get along doesn't mean I want to see her hurt… and it doesn't mean that I can't tell how much she likes you."

"But 'Mione," he sighed, relaxing his position and returning his hands to the table. "She calls me Won-won. It's bloody embarrassing."

"That is pretty bad," Hermione giggled. "Have you simply tried asking her not to?"

"Well, erm… no, not really."

"Well, ask her to stop, and maybe she will. And if she doesn't, just start calling her Lav-Lav. She'll stop then."

"Lav-Lav?" The young wizard wrinkled his nose at the name. "Yeah, that ought to get her to put a sock in it. Is that honestly what you call her?"

"Sometimes," she smiled. When I'm not calling her Lavvy-poo.

He let out a soft breath and stared blankly at one of the nearest stacks. "First year? Seriously?"

The girl snickered and nodded her head. "I lived with her for five years, Ron. I know exactly how long she's been practicing signing 'Lavender Weasley' in her diary."

A dopey grin appeared on his face as he sank back against his chair.

"Erm, Ronald?" Hermione asked somewhat impatiently a moment later. "Was there something you needed to discuss besides your apologies?"

"What? Oh! Erm, yeah." Clearing his throat, the redhead straightened in his seat and dropped his voice. "It's about Harry."

Well if Ronald noticed it, there has to be something wrong with him. The girl took in a deep breath and crossed her arms on the table. "What about him?"

Ron glanced about the room and leaned closer to her. "He's been having nightmares again. Seamus sleeps like a bloody rock, but Neville and I just about pissed ourselves the other night when Harry started shouting in his sleep."

"Has he told anyone?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "I asked him about it the next morning, and he said he would talk to Dumbledore."

"Have you asked him if he actually did that?" she questioned quietly despite knowing what the answer would be. Of the two of them, she was the one who had always done the follow-up routine with Harry.

He shook his head and then scratched his cheek. "He talks in his sleep, you know. Most of the time, I don't quite hear what he says, and when I start listening, he doesn't do it again. But Monday night… erm… well, Lav and I met up after Quidditch practice, and it was late when we snuck back into the – oh, don't use your Prefect stare, 'Mione. Filch nearly caught us, and then the Fat Lady gave us a royal bollocking before letting us in."

Hermione sighed and then gestured for him to continue.

"Anyway, the blokes were all asleep by the time I got up to the room. I was just about to climb into bed when Harry started muttering again, and I was curious, so I crept closer to see what he was saying." Ron paused just long enough to irritate her before speaking again. "Most of it was all muffled, so I couldn't catch it. So I thought maybe I could ask him because people sometimes answer questions in their sleep. Fred and George used to always sneak in Percy's room and –"

"The point, Ronald."

"Oh, right. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he had to find them. And –"

"What?" she interrupted. "Find what?"

"I was getting to that, Hermione," the wizard grumbled. After she gave a quiet word of apology, he sighed. "So I asked him what he needed to find. He didn't answer, though, and I nearly gave up, but just as I was walking away, he kind of moaned and then said something that sounded like 'Orcrooks'."

"Orcrooks?" she repeated. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

"I think so."

Frowning, the girl slouched and pondered his story. "He said it during a nightmare?"

"I dunno if it was a nightmare that time," he shrugged. "I mean he was talking, but he wasn't really panicking or sweating or anything. He was definitely dreaming though."

"Could it just have been a normal dream?" she asked. "He probably still has those, you know."

"Oh, probably, yeah," the ginger boy stated. "It could have been. I mean, it doesn't really mean anything to me. The only thing I could think of was your cat, but it could have just been some garbled word."

Hermione donned an odd smile. "I don't think either of you would willingly go looking for Crooks."

"Hey, I might," he argued. "You know, if you were like on your deathbed or something… or if we had to find the mangy thing to defeat You-Know-Who. I'd probably do it then."