A/N: This summer has just not been great for my writing, has it? God bless graduate school. Thank you all for your reviews, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

So it's taken several chapters just to get through "a weekend", but my hopes are that things will pick up a bit of speed in coming chapters. (Muses willing.)

Bound to Him

Chapter 71

"You're more than welcome to join us, Ron," Remus smiled, holding open the door to his office. "We can all talk over tea and biscuits."

"Uhh…" The redhead nervously glanced at Harry, who was glaring at the wall, and then back to the weary-looking professor. After a moment, he shook his head and started drifting away. "I'm alright, thanks. I think I'll just… erm… go find Lav and see what she's up to."

Remus nodded and then cleared his throat. "Come in, Harry, and have a seat. I think you and I need to talk."

"Why?" the boy hissed, crossing his arms. "We've talked enough this year, haven't we? I get it, okay? You don't blame me for Sirius."

"I am glad you understand that," he replied, closing the door with a snap, "but that isn't actually what I wanted to discuss – unless you would like to, of course."

"No. No, I don't."

"Okay. Please take a seat, Harry."

While the man moved to the fireplace to send for a tea service, the young wizard sullenly sank into an armchair. He kept his arms crossed as he quietly stared the floor.

"Well, I –"

The sound of the Floo flaring to life interrupted Lupin just as he had stepped away from the fireplace. Both wizards looked over to see the Deputy Headmistress stepping into the room, shaking off her skirts.

"Minerva?"

She fixed her gaze briefly on her student before answering. "I'd like to be present for this conversation if you don't mind, Remus."

"No, no. Of course." The man gestured for her to take the weathered loveseat, but she waived him off and instead moved to perch against his desk. Clearing his throat, he turned back to face his friend's son. "Harry, I would like to talk to you about Hermione."

"I'd rather not discuss her, either," Harry stated petulantly.

"Tough," McGonagall sputtered.

"Harry, please," Remus pled, taking a seat on the small sofa.

The boy's eyes accusingly snapped to him. "You know what she's doing, don't you? She said you did. She said you knew all about it."

"Yes, I –"

"And you just let her betray us all like that?"

Both professors winced at the loud pronouncement, but Minerva deferred to her colleague for the time being. Lupin sighed and reached out to touch the armrest of the chair. "Hermione has done no such thing, I assure you. She is very much –"

"Malfoy!" Harry spat, leaning forward. "She's fucking Malfoy!"

"Language, Potter!" the witch snapped. "That'll be five points."

"And how many points has she cost us, hmm?" he asked, looking up to his Head of House.

"That is not relevant to this discussion."

"No?" he scoffed. "She's betrayed her House; she's betrayed the Order; and she's betrayed me. Yet you seem to think that I'm the one in the wrong!"

"Harry," Remus stated softly. "Hermione has not betrayed any of us. If anything, we're the ones who have let her down, not vice versa. She is on your side."

"Not if she's sleeping with Death Eaters," the boy protested. "Malfoy makes two now."

"Two?"

Harry shrugged. "Whoever it was last summer. She denies it was Malfoy – or Snape – so that means it was someone else. And who knows what really happened at Halloween?"

"You – that remark is highly out of line, Potter!" Minerva screeched, incensed. "What happened to Miss Granger was an attack! It was not her choice, and it certainly was not her fault!"

"So she claims," he murmured coldly.

"Harry James Potter! Ohh! Your mother would be ashamed of you right now!"

The young wizard reddened in anger as he looked in disbelief between the two Order members. "After everything she's done – why are you defending her?"

"After everything she's done, how can you accuse her of treachery?" the woman retorted.

"Hermione has done nothing wrong, Harry."

"Oh, except –"

McGonagall shifted, crossing her arms as she interrupted her angry student. "Hermione Granger used her compassion and understanding to befriend someone who was hurting. She put her past injury and prejudice aside to see a young man for who he is instead of what his surname is, or who his parents were. And now… she's done it again with the young Mr. Malfoy."

"Again?" the werewolf frowned.

"She did it first with Potter himself, didn't she?" The witch tilted her head and looked to the boy. "Even though you were cruel to her – and have been on several occasions since – she put it all aside. Time after time, she has sacrificed deeply for you. How many times has she gone against her better judgement to keep you alive and out of trouble? How many times has she nearly died as a result of it? Shall I enumerate them for you? I assure you, Potter, I can come up with a significantly lengthy list without having to think very hard at all!"

When Harry looked away in shame, Remus straightened in his seat. "Hermione was brutally attacked in her home this summer, as were her parents, because of her friendship with you. She became a target because of her loyalty to you."

"She nearly died, nearly lost her entire family, and will bear scars – physical and otherwise – for the rest of her life… and has she ever walked away?" Minerva continued. "No. She has fought and will continue to fight for you, at her own peril. And this is how you repay her? If anything could be considered treachery…"

Slumping in his seat, the boy exhaled deeply. "But she… it isn't like she was honest about it. She went behind my back –"

"Because she knew you would take it as poorly as you have," Lupin interrupted. "Hermione has formed a relationship with someone who has been at odds with you for years, and she cares fiercely for both of you. She does not want to lose your friendship, and were it to become common knowledge that Draco Malfoy was romantically involved with a Muggle-born – Harry Potter's best friend, in particular – it would likely put a price on his head."

"Well, he can join the club," Harry muttered quietly.

"Merlin's sake, Potter!" McGonagall exclaimed, gesturing with her hands. "Do you not see the significance of what has happened? Draco Malfoy – the son, nephew, and grandson of You-Know-Who's followers – has come to care for a young woman whom he was raised to see as less than human. Hermione Granger has accomplished what the rest of us haven't been bothered to attempt – she has established a connection instead of exacerbating divisions. If Malfoy cares deeply for someone, I have to believe that he would try his damnedest to keep them safe, which will put him as close to our side as we could ever hope. But if you push her, Hermione will choose you, and there may not be anything keeping him from his father's path."

The-Boy-Who-Lived sighed as he contemplated her argument. After a moment, he scratched his head. "If we can trust that he does actually care about her and isn't using her, then I can see that it could be a good thing. But still… she should have come to me first. She did all of this, risked all of this, without even asking permission!"

"Permission!" The Deputy Headmistress's eyes widened in shock.

Harry winced. "That isn't what I meant, really. I just –"

"Miss Granger is a highly intelligent, capable, and cautious witch who has the ability to make her own decisions. You are not her father. Neither are you are her husband, her professor, her employer, or her commanding officer. You are merely her friend, and as such, have scarcely any say in her life. She does not answer to you. You do not get to dictate her choices just because you bear that scar on your forehead."

"I know, I know!" he stammered, covering his face. "I honestly don't know why I said that."

"Well, perhaps you had best work on controlling your anger. If you allow your emotions to obliterate your common sense, it can only be dangerous… to more than just yourself."

"Like with Sirius," Harry moaned.

McGonagall grunted in agreement as she pushed off of the desk. "Now, I cannot allow this incident to go unpunished as Professor Snape will have my head, and rightfully so. As such, I expect you to report to Professor Lupin's office every night this week to serve detention. You can start right now."

"Yes, Professor."

"And Potter? If I ever catch wind of you hexing a fellow student in the back again, You-Know-Who shall be the least of your concerns. And once I'm through with you, I would have Professor Snape determine the magnitude of the point loss. Understood?" Upon receiving a mumbled reply, she cast a pointed look at Lupin and then disappeared into the corridor.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Severus awoke with a pounding headache and the distinct impression that he had forgotten something rather important. Pressing both hands to his forehead, he muttered curses while racking his brain to figure out just what it was. Quickly, he went through everything that had occurred the previous day – Albus's reappearance to the school, Draco's flight from the Great Hall, Hermione's pleas for assistance, twisting the Dark Lord's displeasure into a noose about Bellatrix's neck, the relief he felt that Draco and Narcissa had been spared for the –

"Narcissa," he groaned as his mental processing came to an abrupt halt. She had slipped him a piece of parchment while they were exiting the ballroom. With all of the turmoil involving Dumbledore's preferred manner of death, he had completely forgotten about it. "Fuck!"

With as much grace as he could manage given his weary state, the man stumbled out of bed and began frantically digging through the pile of clothes on the floor. He searched the pockets of his trousers and frock coat, but found no note. Growling, he tossed it all back onto the floor and scanned the room for his robes. Eventually he remembered using them as a makeshift pillow, and thus found them twisted up in the sheets.

A relieved sigh escaped him upon producing the folded paper. His hands shook slightly as he unfurled it to reveal nothing more than a sketch of a flower. Frowning, he snatched up his wand and began running every revealing charm he knew. Despite all of his efforts, the drawing remained unchanged.

Frowning, he pointed his wand at it. "Severus… Snape… Draco… Narcissa... Open... Malfoy… Lucius… Black… Unlock… Reveal… Open bloody sesame."

He rattled off whatever potential passwords came to mine, but to no avail.

"What the fuck have you done, witch?" Snape snarled.

"Severus?"

His head snapped up at the sound of Minerva's voice floating in from the sitting room. Suddenly aware of his complete nakedness, he flicked his wand at his bedroom door, causing it to slam shut.

"Are you alright in there?"

Shoving the paper back into his pocket, he dropped his robes onto the bed. "Just fucking fine, Minerva!"

"Might I come in?"

"No! I'm… about to take a shower."

"Alright," she replied. "Give a holler if you need anything."

"How about some bloody privacy?" Snape sputtered, slamming the bathroom door behind him for good measure. "And she's the one who complains about not knocking! At least I don't stroll into her private rooms at all hours of the day!"

Stepping into the spray of hot water, he hung his head and let out a deep sigh. His present anger was not a result of Minerva's intrusion – which he doubted was anything but well-intentioned – but stemmed from the realization that very little of his life was actually under his own control.

After a few minutes, the wizard climbed out of the tub and dried himself. Dressing quickly, he left the sanctity of his bedroom to find the Deputy Headmistress perched in his chair with one of his Occlumency books open on her lap.

"If you're here for a lesson, I don't –"

"No, no." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just needed something to pass the time and thought it would be more beneficial than not to continue improving my understanding."

Severus gave a small nod. "And exactly how much time have you passed here?"

A wry grin appeared on her face. "Oh, a few hours or so. I intercepted Hermione and sent her back to Gryffindor Tower through my Floo, and then I checked in with Remus and sat in on his conversation with Potter. I came back here to make sure you were still sleeping and have stayed to ensure that you also eat something."

Grumbling, he glanced at the clock to see that it was already the supper hour. "Shouldn't you be downstairs?"

McGonagall rolled her eyes and shut the book with a snap. "If you want me to keep from transfiguring a pea into a potato as it travels down the Headmaster's esophagus, I need at least another twelve hours to keep my temper in check."

The wizard grimaced as he sank down on the end of the sofa. "You know, the Dark Lord appreciates such creativity. Perhaps he should have assigned you the task instead."

"Perhaps he should have," she smirked.

Wiping his face, Snape looked over at her. "What about Potter?"

"Forgot to tell me that, didn't you?" The witch smirked before shaking her head. "Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into that boy."

"Shall I make you a list?" he sneered.

"Heavens, no. You could keep us here all night if you put your mind to it." Minerva sighed deeply and leaned back in the armchair. "I understand that the boy felt blindsided by her alleged romance, but the way he went on about having been betrayed, you would think she contributed to Sirius's death or had given all of Potter's secrets to Voldem –"

"Do not say his name."

"To You-Know-Who, then," she corrected.

"The brat's always been incredibly melodramatic," Severus grumbled.

"Kettle calling the cauldron black, I'd say. You've had just as much flair for the dramatic as Potter has, and I think that given your situation, you both are allowed a bit of leeway."

His glare was dark as he folded his arms to his chest. "Potter and I are nothing alike."

"The wizard doth protest too much," the woman murmured. "But, returning to Potter… I think the responsibility has gone to his head."

"You don't say?"

"I thought that Remus and I had talked him out of his fury by reminding him of everything he knows Hermione has done or sacrificed for him and by pointing out that having Malfoy loyal to her was potentially beneficial to all of us. He reluctantly agreed, but still was angry because she had not sought his permission first."

"His permission?" the Slytherin scoffed. "That little twerp actually thinks –"

"Oh, believe me – I fully disabused him of that ridiculous notion." McGonagall snorted bitterly. "I assigned him a week's worth of detention with Remus."

"Lupin will hardly provide him an adequate punishment."

"If I thought physical labor would correct his thinking, I would have assigned him to Mr. Filch. But what I think the boy needs, and Remus is agreed, is some serious emotional therapy."

"Potter attacks an unarmed student from behind, verbally assaults another, and you think what he needs is a chance to talk about his feelings?!" Snape roared, launching off of the sofa. "How typical of Gryffindors to hold one of their own accountable!"

Glaring, the witch got to her feet. "Enough, Severus! You really think I don't hold my students accountable for their actions? I stripped Ronald Weasley of his Prefect badge for fighting with your Slytherins, didn't I? Yet Draco Malfoy retains his title, though he was just as, if not, more responsible for that little incident – among dozens of others!"

"You bloody well know why that is, Minerva!"

"Of course, I do. And it is hardly any different than my position with Potter," she argued. "He is incredibly angry right now, and if I were to punish him as was warranted by his offense, his resentment will only grow. He has been far too reckless, and his emotions will only continue to cloud his judgment. You saw it last year when you attempted to train him in Occlumency – he doesn't have control. It's only worsened since then. He's personally witnessed two people die in front of him, one of whom was his godfather, and how have we handled that? I can only imagine the worthless chat Albus had with him before shipping him off to those horrible relatives of his!

"If I am going to head the Order before the year is out, I need his loyalty as much as you need Malfoy's. You've seen how lax Albus has been with him despite my attempts to the contrary. Potter is still a rebellious teenager – if I come down as hard on him as I want, he will react as poorly as he did with Hermione. He will refuse to acknowledge my authority – the Order's authority – and set off on his own, as per usual. Albus has only encouraged such behavior, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize that it will get the boy killed!"

McGonagall let out a deep breath and tossed her book on the end table. "We need Potter to trust us. We need him to realize that we only have his best interests in mind. He needs positive reinforcement and attention from someone who cares. He needs to talk about his feelings because if he continues to hold everything in, the pressure will build until he explodes – likely killing himself and any number of Order members in the process. We need to be able to rein him in, and that will only be harder if we push him away us."

Severus felt his indignation quickly disappear as the witch explained her reasoning. By the time she finished, he could only sigh. "And Lupin would be the one he would trust the most."

"Exactly. I take it you understand."

"It does not mean that I like it," he grumbled.

"I don't particularly care for it myself, you know," the witch replied, "but we do what we must these days. Speaking of that, did you speak with Hermione while she was here? I couldn't quite tell either way, and I didn't want to accidentally reveal anything before you have spoken with her."

"Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would we?"

Minerva rolled her eyes as she strolled over to the fireplace to place an order for supper. Upon finishing, she turned back to face the couch and found him frowning down at a scrap of paper. "Love note?"

A deadly glare was his only response.

Laughing to herself, the woman crept forward, attempting to peek around his arm.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

"So you keep telling me," she replied. "I haven't seen that look on your face, though, since I caught you attempting to figure out NEWT-level theory questions when you were naught but a first-year."

"Well, perhaps you shouldn't have left them on the board if you didn't want people to answer them."

"It wasn't a criticism, Severus. I thought it showed incredible initiative that instead of fooling around after you had finished your task, you and Lily bent your heads together to… work on something far more… advanced." A strange look of contemplation appeared on her face as she distractedly finished her sentence. She slowly sank onto the cushion beside him, but her eyes were focused on the space in front of her as she rapidly revisited decades-old memories.

Severus had partnered with Lily in her class during their first year. It was odd even for first year students to voluntarily work with students outside of their own House, but the two of them had and, as far as she could recall, had enjoyed it. She could not quite remember if they had continued working together the following year, but by third year Lily had definitely paired up with some of the girls in her House. Still, Severus had sat behind her and had often walked in with her. The last few years of their schooling, however, had been noticeably different – Lily sat with the Marauders on one side, while he had sullenly migrated to the back corner of the room and no longer volunteered to answer questions.

Minerva exhaled slowly as things suddenly clicked into place. For some inexplicable reason, she had always assumed that Lily Evans had always been the one to come to her when Severus had tangled with the Marauders because she had been spending time with her Housemates. The fact that the girl seemed compassionate toward a Slytherin student while reporting her friends' transgressions had been the reason why she had been chosen as a Prefect. But that was wrong – Severus had been the one she defended because he was the one who was her friend, not Potter and company. Lily had hardly ever spent time with the Marauders until sixth year or so, when she had stopped acknowledging Severus.

But he didn't ignore her, did he? Thinking back, the Deputy Headmistress could recall his eyes straying every so often toward the cluster of Gryffindors. Again, she had made an assumption that he was keeping track of Potter and Black, but perhaps it had been the redheaded witch who had his attention instead. It certainly would make sense given the bitter animosity between him and James Potter, as well suggest a reason for his willingness to protect Harry.

"Oh my," she mumbled, covering her mouth.

"What?"

McGonagall cleared her throat and anxiously avoided his gaze. "I was just realizing how late it is. Supper's arrived. Are you ready to eat?"

The wizard grunted and looked at the pair of trays sitting on the coffee table. With a sigh, he passed the crinkled piece of parchment to her. "Perhaps you might be able to figure out what she did to it."

"She being?"

"Narcissa."

"Oh," the witch exclaimed, quickly wiping her fingers on her skirts before gingerly accepting the note. "Well, it appears to be a daffodil, doesn't it?"

"Of the genus Narcissus. How surprising."

Tutting softly, Minerva examined the sketch for several minutes before shaking her head and handing it back to him. "I can detect the tiniest trace of charm work, but I am afraid I cannot discern anything further."

"Why the hell –"

"Well, she was prepared to die, wasn't she?" the woman murmured. "If she did, she ensured that whatever message that contains could not be discovered. She's protecting you."

Severus sighed. "It would be nice if I could discover it, however. The information does us no good if we can't fucking open it."

"Perhaps there is someone who does know how to open it," she suggested. "Her son, for instance."

Nodding, he made to stand only to have his elbow grabbed.

"You, young man, are going to eat before you do anything else."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Wilkins said you wanted to see me?"

Severus looked up from his desk to see Draco standing hesitantly in the open doorway. He nodded and gestured for the boy to take the seat across from him. Belatedly, he waved a wand at the rickety wooden seat, transfiguring it into the armchair that Hermione usually preferred.

When he was certain that privacy charms had been enacted, the blonde cleared his throat. "She's safe, sir?"

"As safe as any of us can claim," the Slytherin Head replied, flattening his hands against his desk. "Have a seat."

The pureblood heir frowned, but did as instructed. He nervously ran a hand through his hair. "How… how long… until…"

"The timeframe has not changed, nor has the task. The Dark Lord has given you a reprieve at the expense of your Aunt Bella, but he expects you to continue on. He has also expressed his wish that I now offer you assistance. However, he cannot know that I gave you any aide prior to Headmaster falling ill. It would likely prove fatal for the both of us."

Malfoy nodded slowly and then stared angrily at the floor. "What am I supposed to do now? I can't… the Aurors are crawling all over the place, and the post is being checked, and Hogsmeade is off-limits… I can't exactly poison him again, now, can I?"

"It would not be advisable, no."

"Then what the fuck do I do, sir? I can't… I can't fail again. He won't spare her again. You know he won't."

"I know," Snape replied. "He is not likely to spare any of us in that case. I do not have an answer for you yet, but I assure you we will figure it out. Albus Dumbledore will not outlive the school year. Of that, I have no doubt."

"That makes one of us," the boy muttered.

The professor inhaled deeply and produced the scrap of parchment. "I could not speak with your mother after the Dark Lord dismissed us – your father was quick to take her above stairs – but she did manage to pass me this. I thought perhaps you could shed some insight on how one might go about reading it."

Curious, Draco raised his head and immediately reached for it. Upon seeing the flower, a small smile appeared on his face. Holding it up to his face, he studied the sketch for a few seconds before setting it down on the desk and pointing to a particular spot of shading. "Place your wand there and state your full name."

"My full name?" he scoffed, leaning forward to examine the pen work. Upon noticing that the boy had, in fact, discovered a tiny 'STS' nearly obscured by cross-hatching, he raised an eyebrow and then drew his wand. "Severus Tobias Snape."

After a brief moment, the lines began to shift, rising up from the parchment and erupting into a bloom of paper. The note then smoothed itself into a full-sized sheet, and a small envelope fluttered out onto the table. Seeing the boy's name written on it, Severus slid it toward him before snatching up the missive.

"Tobias?" Draco questioned, stuffing his letter into his pocket.

His mentor glared at him and folded his arms. "I suppose you've finished your Potions essay?"

"I have actually."

"I would triple check it if I were you. I'm suddenly feeling less than generous."

"Alright," Malfoy sighed, pushing out of the chair. He paused briefly and then soberly met the man's eyes. "Thank you… sir. I… I don't…"

"You are welcome."

"And I'm sorry about… you know… with, erm, Granger."

"On that note, I would advise staying away from Potter whenever possible. He hasn't yet come to terms with your little relationship, and in the interest of attracting the least amount of attention…"

Draco groaned and rubbed his face. "And if he attacks me again?"

"Protect yourself, of course," Snape replied, "and come to me immediately. I will continue to do everything I can to keep you out of trouble. The Aurors do not need any further reason to monitor you."

"No kidding."

Severus watched the boy hover for several seconds. "Was there something else you need?"

"N-no. Never mind." Malfoy shook his head and made his way to the door. He paused once more, however, and stared down at the door knob.

"If you have a question, spit it out. I do not have all night."

"About the Aurors," the pureblood finally murmured, raising his eyes. "The… well… Sir, what do you know about Nymphadora Tonks?"

The professor's eyebrows rose as he leaned forward onto his desk. "Well, I do know that Miss Tonks will hex your hair clear off if you ever call her by her given name."

"It is rather horrendous, isn't it?"

"Quite," Snape agreed. "What do you wish to know?"

Draco sighed and slumped against the door. "I don't know. I just… She keeps sticking her nose in my business, and I just want to know why, I guess."

"You want to know whether she's acting as an Auror or as a member of family, you mean."

The blonde nodded.

"I would advise you not to burn any bridges with her," his Head of House answered. "Miss Tonks has expressed concern for you to both myself and Miss Granger. I believe she is far more ready to overlook family grudges than either of your aunts. Should the Dark Lord fall, and you find yourself at the mercy of the Order, her support would be beneficial. Make an enemy of her, however, and you will likely find that she can bite just as hard as any of the Black sisters – and she has the ability to change her appearance at will without leaving a magical trace."

With a shiver, Draco dipped his head. "Thank you, sir. Good night."

"Good night, Draco."

Severus waited a few seconds after the door closed before flipping over the note from Narcissa.

I am certain it comes as no surprise to you that Bella is fully enraged by your assistance in Draco's task.

"No shit," he murmured.

It has escalated to the point that she no longer keeps her scheming between herself and Dolph. She is determined to find anything she can to discredit you. Twice, she has come to me demanding that I reveal the location of your home residence. I have feigned ignorance, and Lucius has taken to avoiding her whenever possible. We will not divulge any personal knowledge of yours willingly, but should HE grow weary of her and demand that Lucius satisfy her curiosity, it will likely be revealed. Even if HE does not demand as such, it is likely that she can discover information on her own.

"Fuck." The wizard pinched the bridge of his nose. As far as he could recall, there was nothing in his Spinner's End home that would directly point to his treachery. That being said, should anything happen at Bakersfield Cottage, the Grangers had been instructed to activate the portkey, which would deliver them there. How stupid to assume it would not be compromised. And if I do kill the Headmaster, the Aurors will find their way there within a week. It isn't safe. Where the hell can I send them? Fuck.

He was going to need another safe house – one that neither the Order, Ministry, nor the Death Eaters could find – and he was going to need it fast. Before Bellatrix could get her demented self anywhere near Cokeworth, he would have to already have set up a new portkey and have gone through Spinner's End with a fine-tooth comb. A week to sort it, maybe two. Her determination will likely pay off within a fortnight.

Realizing he may need Minerva's help with the task, Snape quickly scanned the rest of the note. A few names of Ministry workers were listed as potential blackmail targets, which he would have to find a way to leak to Dumbledore without drawing suspicion as to his source. It did not seem likely that the Dark Lord would summon him during the next handful of days, and it would not do to delay the information very long.

"Piss," he sighed, folding up the letter. Oh, hold on. Dung. Mundungus Fletcher. That idiot is supposed to have his ear to the ground in Knockturn. He could potentially stumble across said information. Of course, that means I will have to find the time to track that sod down, Confund him, and feed him a false memory. Amongst everything else I need to accomplish this week.

"Where the hell is a Time-Turner when you need it?" Severus pushed out of his desk chair and, after ensuring that his office was warded for the night, climbed up the steps to his quarters. "They give one to Granger so she can fit worthless fucking courses into her schedule, but if you're trying to prevent the overthrow of the Wizarding World by a tyrannical sociopath and his deranged followers, then, well, bugger off."

Instead of readying himself for bed, however, he continued through his sitting room and up the stairs to the quiet corridor. Upon his approach, the lion cub sleepily raised its head. "Is she in?"

The cub gave what could only be considered a feline nod and then slowly scampered out of frame. A long moment later, Minerva opened the door. "Severus? He hasn't asked you to off anyone else, has he?"

The wizard snorted wearily and shook his head. "There are some things I need to discuss with you."

"Oh." She stood back to allow him entrance and then closed the door behind him. "Would booze or tea pair better with this discussion?"

"Tea," he replied after a second's consideration. "Anything stronger, and I'm not sure I'd be able to stop myself."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Stifling a yawn, Hermione slipped the book on wandlore back into its place on the shelf. She then shouldered her bag and quietly made her way out of the library, where she had been hiding ever since it opened at half past seven. Her stomach felt a bit empty as she had skipped breakfast, hoping to avoid Harry, but there was a half hour break between Potions and Charms that she could put to use by visiting the kitchens.

Unfortunately, she had a long day of Harry's angry stares ahead of her. Except for Arithmancy, which was not until the last time slot of the day, she shared all of her classes with him. At least in Charms and Herbology she could pair up with Neville, but she would have to share the bench with him in Potions. Thankfully, it was not a brewing day. She would not have to worry about distractedly ruining a cauldron… until tomorrow.

With dread tightening in her stomach, the witch made her way down to the dungeons a bit early. That way, Harry would have to be the one to approach her, and not vice versa.

Upon reaching the Potions corridor, she nearly ran into a smiling Terry Boot.

"No class today!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"Cancelled," the Ravenclaw responded, gesturing at the classroom door where a piece of parchment floated above the doorknob.

Frowning, she rushed forward to read the familiar black scrawl.

As an unfortunate incident in the storeroom has resulted in potentially hazardous ingredient reactions, prolonged exposure is unadvisable. Therefore, this week's classes shall have to be cancelled. All homework must be delivered to the receptacle outside my office by the scheduled class time. Be warned: There WILL be an exam on the readings assigned for this week.

Professor S. Snape

Hermione wrinkled her nose and turned away from the classroom. Wondering what had happened, she made her way to his office. When knocking yielded no response, she glanced about the hallway before trying again. After a moment of silence, she considered going up to his quarters.

"The door is locked for a reason, Granger."

Startling slightly, she pulled her hand away from the knob and turned to face Draco, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere. "What?"

"That door is locked," he said, gesturing to it while dropping his essay into the wooden crate on the floor. "Obviously, he doesn't want to be disturbed by students."

Hermione watched as the parchment disappeared from the crate to parts unknown and then flicked her eyes to where a few of their classmates were approaching. "Well, I… I just wanted to know why we can't have class."

"Toxic fumes!" Ernie Macmillan eagerly announced, depositing his assignment and all but dancing away. "Merlin, do I love toxic fumes!"

"Idiot," Draco muttered under his breath before turning to give her a pointed look. "Honestly – use your head, Granger."

Finding it a bit difficult to keep from smiling at his veiled instruction, the witch squared her shoulders and stomped off in the direction of the staircase.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Severus sighed as the silver otter danced across his vision. Rubbing a hand over his perspiring forehead, he unsilenced their connection before stepping onto the bed in his childhood room. The screech of the springs caused him to wince. 'Yes?'

'Toxic fumes? What happened to the storeroom?'

'The storeroom is perfectly fine.' Steadying himself, he reached up to pull open the hatch to the attic.

'Why have you cancelled class, then? Are you alright?'

With a groan, the man pulled himself up into the dusty attic and blinked his eyes to adjust to the low light. 'I'm fine, Granger. There are some things I needed to take care of this week that will require me to be away from the castle. Minerva agreed to cancel my classes to allow me to do so. I'd rather not have every dunderhead speculating on my private business… thus, toxic fumes.'

'Away from the castle? Where are you? What do you have to do?'

He coughed slightly at the cloud of dust that came off of his mother's trunk when he opened it. While organizing things to make the most space for the boxes he was about to shrink down, he responded to her. 'I am at my home in Cokeworth. Bellatrix is attempting to discover its location and has designs on searching it to find evidence of my true loyalties.'

'Is there evidence?'

'Not exactly, no.' Minimizing the few boxes in the attic, he stuffed them into the trunk, latched it, and then shrunk it as well. He shoved the miniscule box into his pocket for the time being and cautiously traversed the warped floorboards to the exit. 'I do not hold it past Bella to raze it in a fit of pique, however.'

'Oh. I'm sorry –'

'What have I told you about apologizing for things outside of your realm of influence? I hold no affection for this firetrap. There are some items, though, that it would be foolish to allow them to be wasted. When I've finished moving those, I couldn't care less if it goes up in smoke.'

'Oh.'

'Besides, wouldn't it be poetic justice? Considering I burned down yours.'

'That's not funny.'

Exhaling loudly, Severus dropped out of the ceiling onto the bed with a loud creak. Closing the hatch, he stepped down onto the floor and then quickly glanced about his former room. He had not been in there for any stretch of time in a number of years, but he most certainly did not recall it being so tidy. Ever. He had been relatively orderly as a child – leaving his possessions out for his father to trip over was a mistake he never repeated – but it had never been this neat. No dust or cobwebs were apparent, and the bed had been perfectly made before he had trampled it to get to the attic.

'Granger. Did your mother clean my house, by chance?'

He could practically hear her snort. 'I believe she said as much. It's what she does when stressed.'

'That'll have been a colossal waste of time when everything goes to smithereens.'

'Well, maybe it won't come to that. She might not find it, or if she does, it might still be standing when she's through.'

'With our luck recently? I hardly think it will fall in our favor.' He scoffed, descending to his hands and knees to peer underneath the brass bedframe. Upon locating the loose floorboard, he pried it up and then withdrew the battered biscuit tin he had found in the park when he was a boy. Inside were mementos of his childhood – pictures and things from Lily, trinkets he had found on his "adventures", and anything else that he had wanted to protect from his father and the idiots who shared his dormitory.

He was half-tempted to pitch the whole lot of it, but at the same time, he could not bring himself to destroy what he had spent so many years protecting. Without bothering to open it, he shrunk it down and stuck it in the pocket with his mother's trunk. Putting the floorboard back into place, he climbed back to his feet and made his way down the hall in search of anything else he cared enough about to save.

'What do you want me to do tonight?'

Snape frowned upon opening the door to his parents' bedroom. 'What do you mean?'

'If you're away from the castle, then I'm on my own for defense practice.'

'I will be back in time for that.'

'But you have your whole house to go through!'

'I assure you, Granger – I will be done here long before noon.'

'Oh.'

'Is there anything else you need?'

'Erm… no, I don't think so.'

'Then I shall see you in the Room of Requirement at seven.'

After he silenced their connection, Severus scowled and backed out of the bedroom. There was nothing in there that he cared about saving. Anything he wanted of his mother's had already been squirreled away in the attic or his rooms at Hogwarts. Bellatrix could torch the rest of it to her heart's content.

With a sigh, the wizard quickly descended back to the main floor to deal with the books.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Oof!" Hermione grunted upon hitting the ground harder than she expected. Looking up, she had just enough time to roll out of the way of one Stinging Hex and then to construct a quick shield to prevent the next one from striking her in the face. Gritting her teeth, she strengthened her shield to block another barrage of spells while hauling herself up to her feet.

"Crap," she murmured before having to dive behind a large boulder when she felt her shield charm disintegrate. Keeping her head down, she crept over to the other side of the rock and paused a moment to catch her breath. As a blasting hex hit the edge of the boulder, she jumped up and cast a silent Expelliarmus Magnum.

Snape easily deflected it, but it gave her the opportunity to fire of a pair of Stinging Hexes. She felt satisfaction when his shield fell and one of them connected with his shoulder. That feeling was short-lived, however, as he hardly seemed to acknowledge the pain and instead returned a volley of hexes that put her once again on the defensive.

Several minutes passed as she tried as hard as she could to dodge his attacks and to strike back whenever possible. Sweat poured down her brow, obstructing her vision at times, and she was certain there were bruises forming all over her body. As the duel continued on, her muscles began screaming out in protest and it became harder and harder to keep control of her breathing.

Another hex hit the tree behind which she had ducked for cover, causing a small splinter of wood to imbed in her wand hand. Hissing in pain, she removed the sliver and briefly sucked on her finger before spinning out from the tree and casting her own silent Bombarda.

Severus flinched as the tree beside him exploded, and he threw up a shield to protect himself from any projectiles. Hermione sent a second one, but realized her nonverbals were losing strength when it merely resulted in a small bit of dirt exploding onto his boots. In an effort to keep herself from collapsing in exhaustion, she decided she would have to verbalize her spells.

"Everte Statum!"

Narrowing his eyes, he dropped his shield and allowed the simple spell to hit him. As it threw him backward, he returned one of his own spells.

"Expel –" The incantation died away in her throat as her tongue became stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her eyes widened fearfully as nonverbals were now her only options, and she did not think she could cast them any longer.

Landing relatively gracefully, the man tossed a Stinging Hex at her head – she somehow managed to block it with a small shield – followed quickly by a Tripping Jinx at her feet. Having not been prepared for the dual spells, Hermione groaned loudly as she fell face first to the ground. Bracing herself with her arms, she rolled over in an attempt to protect herself, but found her wand quickly yanked out of her hand by a silent spell. Immediately, she pushed upwards but froze when the tip of a wand was pressed against her jugular.

Wheezing for air, the girl looked up at the wizard's face. He was perspiring almost as much as she was, and seemed to be a bit short of breath, but his eyes were dangerously hard as he stated, "You're finished."

Disappointed, she sagged backwards, catching herself on her hands. When he did not remove the wand from her throat, she frowned in confusion.

"What would you do now, Granger?" he asked.

She opened her mouth uselessly to remind him that he had silenced her, but he shook his head.

"This does not require speaking. If you were in this position in a real situation, what would you do?"

Hermione took in as deep a breath as she could manage and considered it. She was exhausted, silenced, unarmed – using wandless, wordless magic was out of the question – and she was all but trapped beneath his body. Memories of the binding ceremony were popping into her head, and she had to fight to remind herself that it was not the same. She was not naked or tied down, and thus still had physical control of her limbs. As a light bulb flicked on in her mind, she dropped back to the ground and swung her leg upwards.

Before her foot connecting with anything vital, Severus caught hold of her ankle and lowered his wand. "Good."

Letting go of her leg, he moved back a bit from her and extended his hand to help her into a seated position. When she was sitting up, he removed the Langlock curse.

"Purebloods believe hand-to-hand combat to be beneath them since they see it as a Muggle notion. Most often, they will not expect it and will be unprepared for a physical assault. It wouldn't do for you to neglect that avenue as well."

Hermione nodded as she rolled her tongue about in her mouth to prove that she could. She wiped at the sweat dribbling down her face and then grimaced at the blood on her hands and elbows. Looking in the direction her wand had flown, she jerked when it appeared, handle first, in front of her face. With a muffled word of gratitude, she took her wand from him and then prepared to clean herself up.

Tears of frustration began to pool in her eyes, though, when she struggled to find the energy and concentration to siphon off the blood and perform the necessary healing charms.

"Granger?" Severus asked, hearing a sniffle escape. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." She nodded, but kept her eyes pointed down.

Sighing, the wizard knelt down beside her and grabbed hold of her injured hand. After cleaning and healing the wound from the tree, he turned her arm over and began working on the abrasions from the rough terrain. When he finished, he tipped up her chin with one hand and frowned at the evidence of tears. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "S'nothing."

"Clearly, it isn't. Are you bleeding anywhere else?"

"No."

"Broken bones? Sprains?"

"No. Just bruises."

He exhaled and stood up. "I will fetch you some Bruise Paste before you go back up to your dormitory. And a pain reliever, too, yes?"

She nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"For Merlin's sake, girl – what is the matter?"

Hermione took in a deep breath and willed herself to stop crying. It was embarrassing, and they both expected her to be stronger than some sniveling child who fell down and scraped her knee. She was supposed to be a warrior, not someone who needed to be coddled. Those thoughts, however, only made her feel more like a failure, and thus did nothing to stem the tears.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled her knees up and hid her face behind them.

Snape huffed in exasperation. "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what the bloody hell is wrong."

Her head snapped up, and her face twisted as she hissed, "I don't think I can do this, alright?"

"Can't do what, exactly?" he asked, sinking onto a chair that had appeared behind him.

The witch watched disinterestedly as the gravel beneath her became plush carpeting and a second armchair popped into place next to her. Instead of climbing into it, however, she merely leaned against its corner and wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm not a fighter."

"Oh, I certainly beg to differ," the wizard scoffed. "You are one, and have been one near as long as I have known you. After everything you've accomplished, why the hell would you doubt yourself now?"

"Because it's just like the Department of Mysteries! What chance do I have against fully capable wizards? I couldn't hold off Tonks for more than twenty minutes, and I couldn't hold off you for much longer than that even when you were holding back! I'm exhausted to the point that I don't think I can even disarm a first year, and I don't know the first bloody thing about hand to hand combat, but it doesn't probably matter in the long run, because I won't survive long enough to get close enough to use it!"

"First of all, you need to breathe before you work yourself into a panic attack." Snape leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "Secondly, you managed to fend me off for nearly an hour and a half."

"What?"

A small smirk formed on his face as he cast a Tempus. "It's quarter to nine, now."

"But…" She shook her head in disbelief. "It didn't seem that long at all."

"It usually doesn't when you're focused more on keeping yourself alive than on watching the clock." He cleared his throat. "And I wasn't holding back as much as you think. Yes, I stayed away from the more dangerous curses because this was an effort to test and develop your reflexes, but I did not exactly take it easy on you."

"You didn't?"

"No. I meant to push you hard because we're running out of time. But if you think that that was a poor showing, then I sincerely hope you never plan to go into teaching. Your class failure rate would be staggeringly high."

Hermione snorted and wiped her face. "So I'm just being stupid, then."

"Hardly. Do you think you're the only concerned about fucking everything up?"

"I suppose not, no."

"It is better you break down now and have time to put yourself back together than to hold everything in and fall apart in the heat of the moment." He shifted in the chair and glanced down at his hands. "And that moment may be here faster than we expected it to be."

The witch studied him carefully and opened her mouth to ask a question, when he spoke again.

"You are far from the girl who broke into the Ministry last June and nearly got herself killed. You may only be seventeen, but you have far surpassed any student I have ever known. To expect that you will be a master duelist with only a few months' training is impossible. You will not be as polished as Miss Tonks or as ruthless as Bellatrix, but you have your own strengths. It is my duty to provide you with as many resources and opportunities to develop your skills, but it has to be you who figures out how to adapt to a situation and play it to your advantage. You are highly logical even under pressure, and I think that will serve you well even if you are facing opponents with decades' more experience."

"But you were a step ahead of me the entire time!"

"Yes," he admitted, "but I have the unique advantage that, having trained you, I am able to read you better than anyone else will be able to. Your endurance needs some work, yes, which is why I have been forcing you to run laps. The longer you can run; the longer you can fight. I suggest using the fighting dummies whenever you have the time and inclination to do it. Your technique is improved even from last week, so there is no need to despair that you are not competent enough to survive. Self-confidence is just as important with dueling as it is with every other aspect of magic. If you continue to tell yourself that you will fail, likely you will."

Sighing, Hermione picked herself up from the floor. "What about reverse psychology, hmm?"

"That only works if you actually think that things will turn out, but are trying to keep from appearing too confident," he grumbled, standing up. "As the situation stands, we are not in that particular camp."

"Definitely not," she muttered. "Are we done for the night?"

"Not quite." As he stood tall, the Room again shifted into their standard dueling studio. "I am hesitant to have you use Miss Tonks's shield in circumstances in which the Dark Lord or his forces could learn how to use it. As such, I am going to teach you how to use Repercutio. We start now."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Severus?"

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, the wizard stumbled out into the sitting room where Minerva was standing. "Do you realize how bloody early it is? Even Ravenclaws don't roll out of bed to study for another half hour or so."

The elder witch waved him off and leaned against the armchair. "I know, but I wanted to make sure I caught you before you left the castle again. You were gone well before breakfast yesterday. Did you manage to find Mundungus, then?"

"It certainly wasn't the most challenging thing to do," Snape replied. "I simply found the darkest hole in Knockturn Alley and then followed the scent of excrement for a few hours."

Minerva snorted. "Did it work?"

He shrugged. "I'll have to track the idiot down again today and make sure he did something about it."

"You didn't Imperio him, did you?"

"No," he snapped. "It is possible to insert suggestions into a simpleton's head without resorting to a bloody Unforgiveable."

"I know it is. I just… wanted to be certain." The woman let out a long breath and rubbed her shoulder. "This is new to me, you know. I'm not used to all of the subterfuge it takes to pass along information to a man living in the same bloody castle."

"As much as he dislikes putting all his eggs in one basket, as he says, the Headmaster also tends to grow suspicious if all of his eggs come from the same hen." The Slytherin Head rolled his shoulders and picked at the sleeve of his pajamas. "He will accept the petty thief at his word, whereas I would have to find a way to prove that the information was not intentionally leaked to me as a test. I cannot risk him discovering Narcissa's duplicity."

McGonagall nodded and stepped around the chair to take a seat. "I understand, Severus. Now, I'm here because I think I have a solution for your little safe house issue. I thought it over all day yesterday, and I could kick myself for not coming to the answer sooner."

"Well? Get on with it, then."

"It isn't much to look at, mind you, but it ought to suit our needs well enough." She leaned onto the arm rest and smiled. "My father inherited a small fishing cabin near Altnabreac. He took us out there a few summers, and when he died, he left it to my brother, Malcolm. It's a Muggle property passed down by a Muggle, so the Ministry has no record of it, and it's been under family wards since I was old enough to set them. One of us – either my brothers or I – go out there every few years to check on things and replenish the wards. I paid a visit to Malcolm last night and asked if I might borrow it for the time being. He has no use for it currently, so he agreed. If I go out there with you and give you control of the wards, the Ministry ought not to notice anything unusual."

Severus eyed her thoughtfully. "And if I have to portkey in a pair of Muggles?"

"Should be fine," she replied. "There's no Floo connection, so we always apparate in. They won't be able to discern between the blip of an apparition and that of an unregistered portkey. We can stock the cabin with provisions for now, and if it comes to it, we may need to procure the Grangers a vehicle as it is quite a ways to the nearest settlement."

"Well, it will have to do." He rubbed his face. "When are you able to take me up there? I have to be back in the castle this evening to see to Draco's Occlumency lessons."

"You're quite the busy bee these days, aren't you?" Minerva commented before clapping her hands on her lap. "Well, if you get your trousers on, we can go now. I do happen to have a good four hours before I'm expected to teach."