A/N: Hey, looky here - an update! So she is alive, then!

Thank you all for the continuing interest and support, and for coming to my defense so quickly when trolls decide to rear their ugly heads. (What's an adventure without trolls to battle?) Due to a few comments that were posted recently, I decided to enable review moderation for guest reviews. I really do not mind if people leave negative reviews because I know this story has the potential to make people queasy and by no stretch of the imagination do I consider myself an amazing author. And frankly, sometimes I find flames amusing - for instance, my "diseased imagination" and I spent several minutes laughing over one last week. That being said, I deleted comments from an anonymous reviewer (for the first time ever) when she first attacked the story for glorifying rape, then for my attempts to "whitewash" it by rewriting the first few chapters to be "much" less graphic (I haven't rewritten anything, even though I really, really want to) than they used to be when the scene in question occurred in the first chapter (What? Nope. Definitely not.), and finally compared my "garbage" to 50 Shades of Grey (ACK! Knife, right to the heart).

There, now you have my confession, and I feel so much better.

Bound to Him

Chapter 72

"Hermione?"

The young witch looked up from the book to see Ron standing nervously at the end of her table. Frowning, she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. "Yes?"

"Can I talk to you? About the other night?"

He flinched slightly when she drew her wand, which brought a small smirk to her face. Casting a Muffliato, she set down her wand and gestured to one of the chairs.

"Look," he explained, after taking a seat, "I meant what I said, you know. I don't trust Malfoy and I doubt I ever could. Frankly, I hate his guts… but I trust you. If you think he's worth something, maybe he is. Harry was right out of line to say what he did to you."

"Well, thank you, Ronald." She relaxed her posture a bit while studying his face. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you being so decent about this? I mean… no offense… but usually…" Exhaling, she tried again. "Why aren't you angry with me?"

The boy grimaced and looked away. "Well, it's not like I'm happy about it. I am a bit angry, yeah, but… but to think you would willingly betray us is mad. Everything you've warned us about over the years… you were right. You're always right, and Harry… I mean, I've always listened to him over you, but that hasn't worked out so well, has it? Ginny and me, and you, nearly died last term, and Sirius did die, because we all followed Harry's lead and ignored you. You're brilliant, Hermione, and I can't believe you would let yourself fall blindly in love with the ferret. You had to have thought through all of the possible consequences before you did anything."

"Well, yes, I –"

"It's a hell of a risk, I mean, but this could really work out for us."

Hermione frowned and leaned her elbows on the table. "What do you mean?"

"You and Malfoy," he explained. "If you're right about him not using you, then there's no way he'd risk messing around with you unless he's really in love with you. And having a Malfoy in love with you means that you at least have some control over him. Just think about what you could –"

"You're saying that since Draco isn't using me, I should be using him?" she interrupted.

A grin broke out on his face as Ron leaned back in his chair. "I've always known you were brilliant. Scary, but brilliant."

"Ronald, I'm not…" The witch trailed off mid-protest as she realized that she and Severus were, in many respects, using Draco and his mother in their efforts to fell the Dark Lord. With a huff, she shook her head. "I do actually care about him, you know. I'm not just, you know, with him to get information."

The boy blanched at the implied mention of sex, and then cleared his throat. "Well, of course not! You are still you, after all."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

A flush appeared on his face as the boy shrugged. "No offense, Mione, but you are a bit of a prude."

Her jaw dropped before slamming shut in indignation. "A prude!"

"Oi! It's not a bad thing really!" Ron exclaimed, throwing up his hands defensively as he glanced about to ensure no one was paying attention to them. "It's just what… well… I mean just look at how you reacted when –"

"When what, Ronald?" she growled, resting her hand on the end of her wand.

The boy gulped as he quickly stammered, "When McLaggen tried to kiss you! It was just a kiss, you know, and you hit him with the Slug Expelling hex!"

"Yes, well that was because I…" Hermione caught herself before she said anything that could spike his curiosity. "I didn't want him to kiss me, and I told him to leave me alone repeatedly, but he practically forced himself on me. He bloody well deserved it."

"Well, yeah! I wasn't saying he didn't deserve what he got. I just –"

"You know," the witch smiled coldly, "Draco told me that I should have Engorgio-ed his bollocks."

The ginger stared at her disbelief. "He's the one who gave you that idea?"

"He was, yes," she affirmed. "He also prefers to call him McSlaggin'."

Despite his best efforts, the boy snorted in amusement.

"I thought you would enjoy that."

Ron shook his head quickly. "Oh no, no, no! I did not just laugh at something the ferret said."

The girl slapped her hand on the table and then pointed at him. "Stop calling him that!"

"Look, I'm not going to hunt him down and punch his bloody lights out for messing with you, but Merlin's pants, 'Mione! I'm not going to be friends with the ruddy bastard. Or has he suddenly stopped calling me 'Weasel'?"

Hermione let out an irritated breath and dropped her eyes to her notebook.

"Thought not," he replied smugly. An odd moment passed before he donned a more serious air. "If it comes down to either Harry or the fer – or Malfoy, will you –"

"I can't believe you would ask me that," she snapped. "When have I ever not chosen Harry?"

With a nod, Ron scratched his forehead. "Harry'll come around, you know. He doesn't seem quite so angry with you anymore. McGonagall really laid into him about his behavior, and he's been talking to Lupin after supper every night. Most of the time, you know, he's decent enough, but…well… then he has moments like Saturday night. I think he's just, erm, overwhelmed by things is all."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the witch sighed. "Now there's an understatement. He hasn't even spoken to me in two days."

"But he hasn't shouted at you, so… there's that." At her snort, the boy gave her a wan smile. "Just give him a few days to calm down. He'll come 'round. I'll keep working on him."

"Thank you, Ronald."

Nodding, he stood from his chair. "I'm supposed to meet Lavender, but I'll see you later."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Upon dismissing Draco from their Occlumency lesson, Severus sank wearily into his chair and massaged his temples. Though he had not taught Potions that day, Minerva had still managed to have him out of bed and a hundred miles away at a godforsaken hour. Of course, it had seemed far earlier than it actually was since he had kept Hermione in the Room of Requirement later than he probably should have. Several times she had asked if they were done for the evening, and each time there was a nagging voice in his head reminding him of everything she still needed to learn. It was not until sometime after curfew that he had finally apologized and sent her off to the dormitory.

Due to everything that had happened the previous week – and what was left on his plate for the coming days – he could not shake the feeling that she would need to be ready to fight sooner than later. With every day that passed, Bellatrix was actively scheming, the Dark Lord was growing ever more restless, and Dumbledore was in the process of croaking at a pace only the gods could hazard to guess. At any moment, the tightwire on which he was standing could snap, and he would yank Hermione down with him as he fell.

And she doesn't even know it yet. Snape blew out a loud breath and turned his head to stare at a shelf of empty glassware. He had assured Minerva that he would explain everything to Hermione soon, and he had promised himself that he would tell her before he spoke to Dumbledore again. Luckily, he had managed to dodge the Headmaster thus far, but the old man would not remain patient for much longer. Furthermore, he would be traipsing out to Bakersfield Cottage to replace the portkey with one keyed to the cabin in the Highlands, and she deserved the chance to send a message to her parents while she still could.

Since I've dealt with Mundungus and prepped the cabin already, I ought to go tomorrow... which means I need to tell her now. Grimacing, the wizard glanced up at the clock. Somehow it's still only Tuesday, which means she's working in the infirmary.

Cursing under his breath, Severus pushed out of his chair and crossed over to the Floo. He opened a connection with Poppy's office and called out to her.

"Oh! Severus!" the matron nurse exclaimed, leaning closer to the grate. "What is it you need?"

"If you're lounging about in your office, may I assume you are not terribly busy this evening?"

"Lounging?" she scoffed. "Hardly. But no, we are not overwhelmed currently. Seems a certain class was cancelled for the week, you see, so our occupancy has been relatively lower than usual."

The Potions professor rolled his eyes. "Undoubtedly. Since you're not drowning in inexplicable tummy aches and sore throats, would you mind if I borrowed Miss Granger for the rest of her shift?"

Poppy raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Borrow her for what, might I ask?"

"That is none of your – oh for fuck's sake!" he snarled, realizing the implication of her question. "I would hardly be contacting you if I was considering that!"

"Well, how am I to know, hmm?" she shrugged. "I don't know how it works."

Snape huffed loudly. "If that was necessary, madam, she would be the one suddenly begging off her duties to find me. And if it were any other emergency, I would deal directly with her and leave you to wonder at her sudden departure. As it is, there is something pressing that I need to discuss with her before I leave the castle tomorrow morning, and I would like to address it, if possible, before my rounds tonight."

"Ah. Well, she is presently working with a few students, but I will take over for her in a moment. Shall I send her through to your office, then?"

"Yes."

"Alright. She should be there in five minutes or so."

After thanking her and ending the call, the man returned to his chair. While he waited, he closed his eyes, buried his face in his hands, and attempted to figure out just how exactly he was going to tell her. Before he could come to any conclusion, though, fifteen minutes had flown by, and Hermione stumbled into the room.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," she sighed, tugging a hair binder out of her curls. "A first year vomited on me, and it took ages to get rid of the smell."

Severus grimaced not only at the imagery, but also at realizing that he would only make her night worse.

"Is something wrong? Why didn't you just contact me?"

"Because it wasn't an emergency, and I did not want to interrupt you or cause you to worry in the midst of a task." He stood up and moved toward the hidden door. "I also thought it more polite to check in with Poppy before absconding with her help for the rest of the night."

"Rest of the night?" the girl repeated, watching him as he opened the door that led to his quarters. "Severus, what's going on?"

"There are things I need to discuss with you, and I would rather do so upstairs."

"Alright," Hermione murmured nervously. At his instruction, she preceded him up the staircase, through his bedroom, and into the sitting room. She stared at him expectantly until he gestured to the sofa.

Once she was seated, Snape inhaled deeply and moved over to the fireplace to lean against the mantle. "With everything that has happened, I haven't really had a chance to discuss the events of this weekend with you. That needs to be remedied as soon as possible as things have… become more complicated."

"Ohh," she groaned, pulling her feet up onto the sofa. "It wasn't complicated enough already?"

A small smile flicked at the corners of his mouth, but disappeared quickly as he set into a description of what had transpired after Dumbledore had made his first appearance in the Great Hall. Before he came to what had taken place in the Headmaster's Office, however, he fell quiet and took in a deep breath.

"So you twisted Bellatrix into taking the full blame for the failed attempt," Hermione summarized, "which is why she's more determined to destroy us than she was before. Is that the complication?"

"No. Well, yes, it is, but no," he stammered. "I haven't finished yet."

"Oh. Sorry."

Severus shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "After I left you in the infirmary, I reported all of this to Dumbledore. In particular, he wished to discuss the fact that the Dark Lord assigned me to assist Draco in his task. We concluded that the Dark Lord will look to me to step in should Draco ultimately fail to –"

"No," she whispered.

"—assassinate the Headmaster." The wizard eyed her ashen face before averting his gaze to the bookshelf. Squaring his shoulders, he continued with his explanation. "With Dumbledore removed, there is no reason to keep a spy in the halls of Hogwarts. The Dark Lord is steadily filling the Ministry with supporters who are finding weaknesses in other individuals that they can exploit. This will lead to the Ministry falling under his control. When the Ministry goes, Hogwarts will soon follow."

"Oh god." Hermione wrapped her arms about her legs and pressed her mouth against her knees.

"The Headmaster believes that I will be of better use to Potter and the Order if I retain my position in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle." He paused uncertainly. "To do that… I will have to bring him Dumbledore's demise."

The witch stared at him for several seconds as the implication sunk in. "B-but you're going to help Draco, and if h-he does manage to—"

"No." He shook his head again. "My loyalty has to be without question, which means that I have to betray the Order… publicly. Dumbledore believes that if I do so, the Dark Lord will appoint me Headmaster when Hogwarts comes under his control. If I don't… it could be Bellatrix, or Dolohov, or someone else who takes that role."

"Oh god," she whimpered, feeling her stomach roll further at the thought of what could happen under the reign of the Death Eaters.

Snape swallowed heavily and once again raised his eyes away from her. "If I am Headmaster, at least I could limit the damage to students and staff. I would protect them as best I could, but… the Dark Lord will likely install other members of staff."

"And to do this, you have to be the one to…k-ill Dumbledore?" the girl clarified; her voice breaking.

He nodded stiffly. "The Headmaster has requested it, yes."

Her mouth parted in shock as she stared at him.

"Beyond the possible future implications, he also wishes to spare Draco's soul the strain of committing murder –"

"But what about you?" Hermione hissed. "How can he ask that of you? He doesn't even know that Draco is on our side!"

"But he does know that Draco is hardly acting on his own volition, and is –"

"Well, neither are you."

Closing his eyes, Severus hung his head. "Dumbledore is under the impression that it would not be as damaging to me so long as I approach it as a mercy killing. If Draco were to succeed in killing him, it would be murder. But because the Headmaster has asked it of me, I would be sparing him further humiliation and pain that he would suffer as a result of the Dark Lord's curse by granting him a quick departure… which is why he wishes me to use the Killing Curse."

The girl nearly leaped out of her seat as she gasped, "But that's an Unforgivable! You can't –"

"It has to be," the wizard sighed. "His death has to be certain, has to be immediate. I have to prove my loyalty to the Dark Lord, and to demonstrate my prowess of the Dark Arts. It has to… it has to be Unforgivable. There cannot be any doubt."

Her lower lip trembled as he spoke, and a tear trickled down her cheek. Several seconds passed before she managed enough composure to murmur, "It isn't fair."

"No," he whispered, rubbing his forehead. "It isn't. But the alternative… I do not think I could have that on my conscience."

Hermione shook her head in understanding and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Minutes went by in tense silence as she stared at the floor, while he turned slightly to watch the flames snap in the fireplace.

Eventually, he found his voice, subdued though it was. "If I survive long enough to flee, I will be hunted. Until the Dark Lord takes over, I will have to remain in hiding. There is great risk that I could be captured or… executed."

A soft cry burst out of the young witch as she scrambled forward and threw her arms around his frame. She buried her face against his neck while tears streamed down her face.

Blinking quickly to dispel the stinging of his eyes, Severus hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"N-no," she hiccoughed. "P-lease d-don't."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his face into her hair. "I'm so very sorry."

Hermione shook her head as she tried to get control of herself. "Stop. Stop apologizing. Please."

When he did not say anything for quite some time, she pulled her head back to look up at him. Seeing tears in his eyes and a broken expression on his face, she felt her heart climb into her throat. Her hand shook slightly as she touched his face. "There isn't any reason you need to apologize to me. This isn't your fault."

"I promised you… that I would keep us both alive." He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from her hand. "I don't know if I can now. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have made you a promise… when—"

"Stop it," she snapped, moving both hands to the sides of his face. "Severus, look at me. It isn't your fault. I could never blame you for anything that happens. No matter what happens, I know… I know you will do everything you can, as will I."

As the man exhaled loudly, she slowly slid her hands down his chest and tucked her head against his chin. After a long moment, he tightened his hold on her and moved one hand to cup that back of her head. "I will try."

"I know you will." The girl gripped a handful of his robes and cleared her throat. "When do you have to…"

"I don't know," Snape replied quietly, "but I know the time will come too soon. I have yet to inform the Headmaster of my willingness, though. Despite his request for secrecy, you need to know… as does Minerva. It will greatly affect you and your safety, so you deserve the chance to argue –"

"I don't need to argue, Severus," she whispered. "I trust you. I know you will make the right decision."

He shifted nervously. "If we do survive to see the Dark Lord's fall… I will still be branded a murderer. Your safety will depend on my remaining a fugitive."

"So we'll have to disappear. Go somewhere they won't find us."

The man nodded and looked back at the fire. "Any established Wizarding society would be too dangerous if we wish to remain undetected."

"You mean we'd have to live as Muggles?" Allowing a small quirk to come to her lips, the young witch glanced up at him. "I think I might just be able to handle that, luckily enough."

"Well, at least there's that," he muttered.

Hermione's smile was short-lived, and she returned her head to his shoulder. "It's a shame, you know… I think you'd make a rather decent Headmaster if you were allowed to be."

The wizard groaned. "I assure you I have never coveted that particular position. Dealing with students is painful enough, but angry parents, and staff disputes, and the Board of Governors… No."

"It can't be any worse than dealing with Death Eaters."

"I suppose not," he snorted. "Though, when I do begin my tenure, they will be one and the same."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

After Severus disappeared back down to his office to begin his nightly rounds, Hermione slipped out of the portrait door and slowly climbed the staircase. Upon reaching the corridor, she came to a stop, sank back against the wall, and closed her eyes. A soft, feline grunt spurred her to glance across the hall in time to see the lion cub disappear from his portrait frame.

A moment later, the door opened to reveal her Head of House, who wearily eyed the girl before clearing her throat. "He told you, didn't he?"

Fighting the sting of tears, Hermione nodded, but otherwise remained silent.

McGonagall opened her door a bit wider and extended her hand. "You'd better come inside."

The young witch cast one glance down the shadowy corridor and then did as suggested. After closing the door, the deputy headmistress approached her student and placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

The elder witch nodded in understanding. "I realize it's late, but… tea?"

"Please."

When the tea service had been ordered and delivered, the two witches rigidly sat on the sofa. One stared blankly into the fire while the other studied the contents of her teacup.

"He's going to visit my parents tomorrow," Hermione finally murmured without raising her eyes. "If I manage to write a letter before he leaves, he'll deliver it to them."

"Oh." Minerva glanced back at her student. "Y-yes, he did mention he would be travelling most of the day."

The girl sighed deeply. "I don't even know what to write. I mean… I can't tell them anything for obvious reasons, and even if I could, I wouldn't. At the same time, I don't want to lie to them and make them think that everything's fine, because it's not, and they know it's not. But how do I… How do I tell my parents that I'll probably be dead by Christmas?"

"Oh, Hermione." The Gryffindor Head set down her tea and scooted closer on the sofa. After removing the girl's tea to the end table, she took the girl's hands within hers. "Look at me, child. None of us can know what Fate has in store for us, but no matter how bleak it seems, there will always be hope. Severus is… he's a survivor. It took me far too long to realize it, but he's always been one. The Hat did not go wrong with him. He is frighteningly clever and able to either fight or manipulate his way out of a situation. He's done it all these years without anyone believing in him.

"You and I… it's our duty to do that… to believe in him, to support him, to provide him aid in any manner we can. If he's made it this far alone, I cannot imagine him not succeeding with assistance. I know it seems daunting, and I know that he personally believes the worst will come to bear… but you and I cannot let ourselves lose hope."

Hermione nodded and then wiped her eyes before whispering, "Confidence."

"Pardon?"

"He tells me all the time that I have to have confidence in myself if I expect to succeed."

McGonagall quirked her lips. "Indeed. Severus has always been dreadful at taking his own advice. But then, aren't we all?"

The rhetorical question hung in the air as the fireplace crackled. Finally, the young witch sank against the back of the couch. "I want to hate him for this – Dumbledore, I mean… but I keep hearing Severus explaining why it has to be this way. There really isn't a better alternative, is there?"

"Ohh… unfortunately, none that I have discovered," the Deputy Headmistress replied, "and I have tried, I promise you. Mind you, that does not mean that I have to like it, or that I have to forgive Albus. Nor do you."

"Then I shan't."

"That being said," Minerva mumbled after taking another sip of her tea, "I do not relish the opportunity to make the difficult decisions."

"No," her student quietly agreed. "Could I… ask a favor of you?"

"Certainly! What is it?"

Hermione tugged at her sleeve and focused her eyes in her lap. "If things don't turn out… if Severus and I don't outlive the war, please don't tell them anything about the bond. You can tell them whatever else you want, but not… I don't want them to think poorly of him. He's done so much for all of us, and he doesn't deserve to be blamed for this."

"Of course," the woman nodded with a terse smile. "Though I do not believe I will have need to, I will do as you ask."

"Thank you," she whispered.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

By mid-day, Severus found himself seated in the kitchen of his grandmother's cottage with a hastily prepared sandwich and bowl of potato soup in front of him. Despite his protests, Jean Granger had again managed to cajole him into taking a meal. He could not truly complain, though, for his breakfast had worn off somewhere near Exeter. It also gave him something to do while the Grangers huddled together over the letter Hermione had written.

As he finished eating, the kitchen door opened to reveal Jean, who immediately looked to him. "Can I get you anything more?"

He shook his head.

"Are you certain?" she pressed. "Something more to drink?"

"I am fine, madam."

Folding her arms to her chest, the woman approached the table and sank into a chair. "Sam is just taking a turn at writing now."

"I see."

Jean leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. "How is she, truly? She didn't say anything to it, but I can tell she's worried, or afraid, or –"

"Or both," Snape murmured, setting aside his napkin. "Only a fool wouldn't be."

"Right," she whispered. "Is she managing, though? Is she safe?"

Far from it. He took in a deep breath and sat tall in his chair. "She is… as safe as I think is possible considering the circumstances. As for how she is managing, I must admit that she is one of the strongest individuals I have ever known."

"She always has been," Jean smiled before ducking her eyes. "She's always been independent and able to take care of herself. Sometimes I think, perhaps, we forgot how young she was. She's so mature that I worry we treated her more like an adult than a child. We never really noticed how miserable she was in primary school until she finally snapped one day and declared that she was running away. Sam and I realized we needed to try harder after that, but before long, you lot came to offer the escape she wanted, and then she was gone.

"Letters and holidays are all we have of her, and yet… the little girl we sent away never really came back. She's our daughter, but… everything she's experienced is so different. We try so hard to understand and to give her advice when she needs it, but she's the one who knows more than we could ever hope to. We're her parents – we're supposed to teach her, guide her, protect her – but we're practically useless! She's my baby, and I don't know how I can help her."

Shaking her head, the woman wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Professor. I just… I didn't mean to… to ramble."

"An apology isn't necessary," he replied gruffly.

"I just feel so… lost," she whispered.

Severus looked away to the window and waited uncomfortably until she regained her composure.

"I take it from her letter that Hermione won't be joining us again for the upcoming holiday?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Unfortunately not. It would be safer for her to remain at Hogwarts."

Jean nodded slowly. "Of course. Well… I'm glad we have a letter from her, at least. She says you've been teaching her defense?"

"Yes," he replied. "She's quite gifted. I've seen few who have accomplished such skill in so little time."

A proud smile appeared on her face. "Thank you. It's good to hear, and I'm glad that she has you looking out for her. And she mentioned she's studying to be a Healer, she called it?"

The wizard shifted slightly. "Yes, she's been training with our matron nurse to learn Healing magic and, thus, spends several nights working in the infirmary."

"And it sounds like she enjoys it, yes?"

"I, erm, suppose I don't really know whether she does or doesn't. I haven't heard many complaints."

Jean nodded as she stood and picked up his dirty dishes. "My mother was a nurse, you know, during the War. It's how she met my father, actually, and I'm certain at least one of Hermione's great-grandmothers volunteered during the First World War. I suppose, then, one might say it runs in her blood."

"If she wishes to do it professionally, she would undoubtedly excel," Snape murmured after a few seconds. "Madam Pomfrey has little but glowing praise for her skills."

"Oh? That would be lovely for her, I think. She's such a compassionate soul."

Almost too much. The wizard was spared from having to muster a response when the kitchen door opened to reveal Hermione's father.

"Darling, I think I'm about done. Did you wish to add anything more?"

His wife shook her head. "I've already written enough to keep her reading until Easter. I doubt the professor will care to wait while I compose a novel."

"I will wait however long I need," Severus interjected, rising from the chair.

"No, no – it's alright. It'll just get redundant, and I'll start sobbing and smear the ink." Jean waved her hand dismissively and leaned against her husband. "We're exceptionally grateful to you, Professor, for coming all this way. We don't want to keep you occupied too long."

The wizard nodded, and the three walked back to the front of the house. After tucking their thick letter safely into the pocket of his robes, he picked up his broom from where it leaned against the wall. "The password for the new portkey is the same, but instead of depositing you in Cokeworth, it will take you deep into the Scottish Highlands. With any luck, though, you should have no need for it."

The couple gave him another round of gratitude, and before Snape could escape, Jean Granger threw her arms around him in a squeezing hold.

"Take care of my baby," she whispered. "Please."

Swallowing heavily, he glanced over her shoulder to Samuel, who stared back at him with a similar request in his eyes.

"I will do everything I can," the Slytherin stated. "I promise."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Did I keep you up too late last night?" Poppy asked, with a bemused expression.

Finishing her third large yawn of the morning, Hermione laughed and shook her head. "No, I stayed up to do some reading. It was the middle of the night long before I realized it."

"Ah," the mediwitch chuckled. "I don't envy your upcoming struggle in History, then. Binns will have you dozing if you're not careful."

"Nothing an Invigoration Draught can't cure."

A frown appeared on the woman's face as she replied, "You may have the elves bring you a spot of coffee if you're that in need of a pick-me-up."

"I was only teasing," the girl exclaimed. "I know that doses of Invigoration Draught should be taken sparingly and only in dire circumstances."

"That being said, I know exactly how many vials of that are in my stock. Don't think I won't check after you've finished the inventory."

With an amused snort, Hermione picked up the clipboard with the inventory log and made her way into the infirmary storeroom. As she methodically worked her way through the shelves, marking down how much of the stock remained, she found herself yawning several more times. Although she knew she needed as much sleep as possible, she could not bring herself to put away the letter from her parents until she had read it twice through. Even then, her parents' words kept cycling through her head until she had finally fallen asleep only a few hours before dawn.

Recalling her father's description of her mother all but forcing Severus into the kitchen to feed him, the young witch giggled softly to herself as she penned a '3' in the Calming Draught row and then starred it for that weekend's brewing list. After neatly arranging those vials, she moved over to the next set of shelves where the Vacuus Ortis was located.

"One, two, three, four, five," she whispered, glancing down at her list. "I guess no one's used a contraceptive potion this week. Or, really, in several weeks. I wonder if that's a good or a bad thing."

Hermione made to move to the next draught, but immediately snapped her gaze back to the salmon-hued potion. No one's used a contraceptive potion this week… No one. Not even me.

A heavy pressure seemed to descend upon the small room, causing her stomach to flip and her breathing to become labored. The storeroom was suddenly quite warm, and her palms began to sweat as she continued to stare wide-eyed at the shelf. The clattering of her clipboard against the stone floor finally snapped her attention back to the present.

Gasping, she pressed a hand to her forehead as she bent to retrieve the object.

"Granger?" Madam Pomfrey called out, poking her head through the doorway. "Are you quite alright?"

"Erm, yes," she lied. "Just a brief moment of clumsiness."

The matron nurse pinched her lips together and stepped further into the room. "Are you certain? You look a bit pale, dear. Oh, and your hands are quite clammy!"

Hermione looked down to where the woman had touched her hand.

"Do you feel ill?" Poppy asked, moving her hand to touch the girl's forehead. "The truth, if you will."

"Well, I do… I do feel a touch dizzy," she sighed.

"It came on suddenly?"

The Gryffindor nodded. "Yeah… startled me a bit."

"I'd wager it did, yes." Pomfrey put a hand beneath her elbow and gently steered her back toward the main infirmary. As they reached one of the beds, she gestured to it. "Sit down for a moment. Now, what did you have to eat this morning?"

"Erm," Hermione flushed, "I didn't."

"Miss Granger!"

"I overslept, and didn't want to be late!"

"Ohhhh, what am I ever to do with you?" the woman grumbled, stalking back into the storeroom. She returned a moment later with a brown bottle in her hand. "Honestly, you're almost as bad as Severus."

As if saying his name had triggered a thought, Poppy paused and dropped her voice. "Do I need to send for him?"

"NO!" the girl blurted before clearing her throat. "Sorry. I just… erm, that isn't necessary right now."

The mediwitch eyed her charge carefully while uncorking the bottle and pouring a measure into a small cup. "Here. Nourishment Potion, since you seem incapable of managing it yourself today."

Grimacing, Hermione pinched her nose and swallowed down the thick liquid as quickly as possible. "If I wasn't already queasy, I would be after that."

Madam Pomfrey tutted softly and then handed her a glass of water. "If you're under-fed and sleep-deprived, I assume you're also dehydrated."

"Probably," she muttered over the rim of the glass. And now, possibly pregnant. Which is also my fault.

"Well, Miss Granger," the woman sighed after doing a cursory scan with her wand. "Might I offer you my congratulations?"

"W-what?" Hermione stammered. She can't possibly know already!

"It does appear that you will sleeping through History of Magic after all," Poppy quipped. "You've overtaxed yourself. After you've finished your water, crawl into bed. When you feel better, and I am satisfied you've had enough rest, I will let you go back to class. I can tell you right now, though, it won't be before lunch."

"But –"

"No arguments."

Under the nurse's reproving stare, the girl drained the rest of the water, toed off her shoes, and then slipped under the covers. Silently, she pulled the blanket over her shoulder and then turned to face away from Madam Pomfrey. After the privacy curtains had been drawn, Hermione let out a shuddering sigh and wrapped her arms about her waist.

I'm not pregnant. I can't be. But…what if I am? Oh, god. It's plausible that I could be. I could be four days pregnant. How early can one detect it? There's still two weeks left before my period is supposed to start.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Stop. Calm down. If I keep panicking, Madam Pomfrey will never let me go. I can't ask her, because then she'll know. I promised Severus that I would go to him first if I were concerned.

But I can't go yet. Calm down, then sleep, then lunch, then Transfiguration… and then I can find him. Find him and tell him how much of an idiot I am.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

McGonagall had barely finished dismissing the class before Hermione was out the door, bolting for the nearest staircase. Realizing that she wished to avoid drawing undue attention, however, she slowed her pace. Luckily, most of the school had another class left in their day, and those that did not were tempted by the half-decent weather outside. By the time she had reached the dungeons, there was hardly anyone around to notice her.

Seeing that the hallway was empty in both directions, the witch sucked in a breath and quickly closed the distance to Snape's office door. Without bothering to knock, she grabbed hold of the knob and pushed open the door… only to freeze mid-step upon seeing that the Slytherin Head was not alone in his office.

"Hermione?" Remus exclaimed, looking to her in surprise.

"Prof-fessor."

"Miss Granger," Severus snapped, folding his arms to his chest. "Exactly what do you think you are doing, barging into my office without knocking or gaining permission?"

Her panicked gaze left the werewolf and met his dark glare. "I, erm, I'm sorry, Professor! I just… I…"

"I assume, Granger, that you are here because Professor McGonagall told you that I had a letter for you from your parents?" He rolled his shoulders. "Or is there another reason why you are standing there, gaping like a fish?"

"Y-yes, sir! I mean, I came for the letter. I'm sorry. I'm just very excited to hear from them, and -"

"Your excitement will have to wait a moment longer, then. I instructed an elf to deliver it to your dormitory several hours ago."

Hermione sagged against the door. "Oh. Erm, thank you, sir, for –"

"Five points from Gryffindor."

Wincing, she mumbled, "I'll, erm, be going then. Sorry."

With a nervous smile at Remus, she pulled the door shut and then very quickly walked several paces down the hallway.

'Granger. If you will wait for me in my classroom, I will send the wolf away in a few minutes.'

Pivoting, the witch did as he proposed. Once the classroom door had been secured behind her, she tossed down her bookbag and collapsed onto a stool. Covering her face with her hands, she let out a sob of frustration.

You idiot! You could have ruined everything! If Severus hadn't covered for you so quickly, what the hell would you have done?! What were you thinking?

Unable to keep still, she shoved off of her seat and took to pacing the aisle. Before long, the classroom door opened and slammed shut. Severus spun to face her as soon as he had warded the door. "Are you in pain?"

"N-no." She shook her head.

"Or in need of –"

"No! It's not that!"

The wizard frowned in confusion as he approached her. "Hermione, what is of such importance that you –"

"I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! I wasn't thinking."

"I had come to that conclusion, yes," he muttered. "My question is why."

Halting abruptly, Hermione bit down on her lip as she turned to look at him. "I… I want you to know that I'm really, really sorry. It's entirely my fault. I didn't mean to forget, but I'm sorry all the same."

Snape narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "I take it you're speaking about something other than interrupting my riveting conversation with Lupin?"

"Yes, I…" She swallowed heavily and held one elbow with her opposite hand. "Exactly how long is the effectiveness period for the Vacuus Ortis?"

His eyebrows shot upward at the question and he answered quite slowly. "It is recommended to take it beforehand or within a few hours of intercourse, and it usually lasts ten to twelve hours."

Expecting a similar response, the girl nodded anxiously and stared down at the floor. "Sunday morning… I, erm, forgot to take it after we… I was so worried about you needing to sleep that I didn't even think about that I hadn't taken it or that I needed to take it, and it's all my fault if… if something happens. I'm so sorry."

While the witch rambled on, a heavy sigh escaped Severus as he sank onto the edge of the nearest laboratory bench. Images of his nightmare flashed through his mind, and his stomach twisted. He had vowed to himself that he would take every precaution to ensure that such a situation did not actually occur, to the point that he had started carrying a vial in one of the pockets of his robe. Rubbing his hands over his face, he mentally chastised himself for failing to ensure that she was protected.

"I suppose it wouldn't do any good to take a dose now."

Dropping his arms back to his sides, the wizard shook his head. He studied her for a moment and then cleared his throat. "The likelihood that you could have conceived is exceptionally small."

"Right," she scoffed. "With the way our luck has been recently?"

Uncertain if he agreed or disagreed with her, the Slytherin kept silent for the moment.

"Why not add another fucking complication to the list?" A moment later, she gave a brittle laugh. "A fucking complication."

Snape lifted one corner of his mouth in recognition of the pun, but looked away in frustration. When he heard a sniffle, however, he returned his eyes to where she stood, holding herself as she fought against tears. Exhaling loudly, he moved toward her and gently touched her chin. "Despite the fact that Fate seems to enjoy tormenting us, we do not know. Regardless of what happens, there is no need for you to blame yourself. I should have remembered to give it to you, and I didn't. Therefore, it cannot be any more your fault than it is mine.

"Now, there are several days remaining until we can know for certain either way. It would be for the best if we were not to waste the energy worrying until that time."

Hermione took in a deep breath and forced herself to look up at his face. "And if I am? If I'm… pregnant, what then? What will we do?"

Tensing his shoulders, the wizard replied, "If it comes to pass, then I will brew the necessary potions, you will excuse yourself to the infirmary for a day or so, and we will take care of it."

"You mean terminate it?" she whispered.

He nodded slowly and then sighed upon seeing a flash of sorrow in her eyes. "It is the safest option at this point. Surely, you must realize this."

The girl silently ducked her head.

"Hermione," the man murmured. "Given the current situation, it isn't feasible. A pregnancy can only be hidden for so long. The Order, some of the staff, and your friends would assume it to be Malfoy's, but the Dark Lord – among others—would know it to be mine. He has explicitly claimed that if anything further stands in the way of Dumbledore's demise, Draco and I – and by extension, yourself – will pay for it… likely with our lives. Our bond is one that must remain hidden. A pregnancy would bring far too much attention, and the Dark Lord would likely kill us both before you even reached full term."

Her lip quivered as she gave a begrudging nod and proceeded to wipe her face.

"If we do not terminate it, the only possible option for us would be to run and to hope that the Dark Lord falls before he has the chance to look for us."

"No!" she gasped, shaking her head. "We can't! There's too much at stake!"

Mumbling his agreement, Severus touched her cheek. When the witch stepped into him, he slipped his arms about her form. "You're in too much danger already. I cannot allow myself to endanger you further if it is in my power to prevent it. I have promised you, and I have promised your parents that I would try my damnedest."

"I know, and I understand." Blinking away tears, Hermione pressed her face against his chest. "It's not like I'm ready to be a mother anyway."

He grimaced at her comment and briefly closed his eyes. An unexpected child had ruined his mother's life; he would not allow one to further jeopardize Hermione's.

"We don't need to tell Madam Pomfrey yet, do we?"

"Gods, no." The man groaned and pressed a knuckle into his forehead. "I would rather not face that particular bollocking if I don't have to."

The young witch gave a tearful laugh and latched onto him more tightly. After several minutes of silence, she opened her mouth to whisper, "I'm sorry for –"

"I think you've done quite enough apologizing today; don't you?" he interrupted. "You may end up regretting being so contrite by night's end."

Frowning, Hermione leaned back. "What does that mean?"

"It is Thursday, is it not?"

"Which means you're going to make me fly again."

He nodded and cleared his throat. "I have also asked Lupin and Miss Tonks to join us for the lesson."

"What!" she exclaimed, removing herself from the embrace. "But… what?"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I thought it time you practice escaping active, living pursuers."

"Ohhhh, god."

"There. You have been forewarned." Severus smirked. "Plan your supper accordingly if you feel you must."

"Easy for you to say," she grumbled. "If I don't eat what she deems enough, Madam Pomfrey threatened to sit beside me and feed me herself."

"Why did she –"

"Because I had a bit of an anxiety attack in the stockroom this morning upon realizing what we just discussed," Hermione explained, staring at her hands. "Obviously, I wasn't going to tell her the real reason, so she assumed I was ill."

"I see," he muttered. "Well, she's been threatening me with the same for twenty years or so, and has yet to make good on it. But nevertheless, if you do have the urge to vomit, I would think the wolf might make a suitable target."

A grin broke out on her face as she raised her eyes once more to his. "I will do my best."

"See that you do." He flicked his eyes up at the clock and then took a step toward her again. "Are you going to be alright?"

The girl paused in contemplation and then nodded. "I think so, yes."

"Good. You may fret about tonight's flying lesson if you so choose, but beyond that…"

She snorted quietly and rubbed her shoulder with one hand. "But beyond that, I should not worry until I have cause to do so."

"Quite," he agreed. "Five points to Gryffindor."