Hey pals! Hope you're all well! For some reason this chapter took me an AGE to write, even though I knew exactly how I wanted it to go. Nevermind, it's out of my head now! I hope you enjoy it :)
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The new year had come in, and it had brought with it a whirlwind of stress. Meetings with the Dark Lord had increased, punishment from the Dark Lord had also increased, and brewing with Miss Granger had unfortunately not decreased. He had hoped that after their disastrous pre-Christmas meeting, and the unprecedented emergency brew right before the holidays, that she would be less enthusiastic to come back and continue her lessons. Besides, her OWLs were fast approaching and he would have thought she would welcome any free time to dedicate to study. Not that she needed it, he thought, she could pass the exams with her eyes closed. Instead, without any contact on his part, she had turned up to his office at 7pm sharp on the first Friday of term, with only the slightest apprehension that she hadn't been able to prepare for the lesson. In true Granger form, she had instead memorized every recipe in Most Potente Potions on the off chance that they brewed one of them. In order to hide his admiration, he had instead made her brew multiple batches of Cure for Boils, much to her disappointment.
Despite the increased demands from the Dark Lord, Snape had managed to keep on top of all marking, all lesson plans for the next year, and was as happy as he could be with how prepared the students were for exam season. What worried him was the plan the Dark Lord seemed to be formulating, and quickly. He had assumed that the Dark Lord's recovery would take longer, which would give them more time to deal with the chaos of Ministry interference, but instead he had returned to his maniacal master's side after Christmas and found him poised to attack. He had been privy to some of the information concerning this blow to the side of the Light, but not enough. Not all of it. It bothered him to no end, to be useful as a spy he needed to know all of it. What he had told Dumbledore in the small amount of time he'd had before the elderly wizard had been unceremoniously shoved out of the school, had been paltry at best. Dumbledore hadn't seemed worried, and that worried him. It stressed him, just like everything else. It was all he could do to keep his head down and bury himself in his work with the small moments of peace that he was given.
He was relishing the opportunity to be especially cruel to his first years as he scrawled some venomous remarks on their latest essays, when a loud thud echoed off his office door. Before he could approve the intrusion, the door flew open and a wide-eyed, grinning Draco Malfoy stepped in.
"Mr Malfoy, I was under the impression your father taught you manners-"
"High Inquisitor Umbridge needs you in her office, Professor." His grin reached almost psychotic levels. "We've finally caught Potter's secret club." The last word was practically spat out, and Snape could see the boy trying to refrain from laughing. Without so much as a word to the crazed Malfoy, Snape stood from his desk and swept past the boy. The last thing he needed, with Dumbledore out of the castle, was for Potter and his friends to find themselves on the wrong end of Umbridge's wand. He was.. Begrudgingly.. Happy to protect the boy - hell, he'd been doing it for years now, but only from the shadows. His position in the school and among the Dark Lord's circle meant outwardly shielding Potter from harm was out of the question. Since he didn't know what kind of trouble the boy was in, he would be thinking on his feet, not for the first time.
He took a deep, reserved breath before opening the door to Umbridge's office, being careful to make sure Malfoy didn't notice his apprehension. As he strode in, his demeanor putting on the act of indifference that he found his mind could not, he was surprised to see not just Potter, but Weasley and.. Miss Granger? Of course she would be foolish enough to get caught up in the misgivings of the troublesome due, ever determined to help her friends. More than that, if this was truly about their little defense club, she would be more than willing to ensure all the students of Hogwarts gained as much knowledge as they could. The thought made him chuckle internally.
"Dolores I am a busy man, I have no interest in whatever grievances you hold with these.. Miscreants." He cast his eyes over the group again. Potter and Weasley seemed to be holding a small furious storm back behind their eyes, predictable as they were. They were clearly angry at being discovered, so sure of their secrecy that it must have seemed impossible for others to cotton on to their schemes. Miss Granger, on the other hand, painted a different picture. Her face was a mix of panic, determination, and as her eyes met his she blushed a shade of red and the clear look of shame flashed across her features. Knowing her passion for knowledge in all forms, she couldn't be ashamed of the creation of the club. Plus, he was well aware of her deep-seated hatred of Umbridge, so being ashamed of being caught was out of the question. So why was she ashamed? Was it because he had found out? He quickly banished the notion, thinking how ridiculous that would be. He was pulled out from his musings by the shrill voice of the Umbridge woman.
"I only have need of your skills, Severus, not your company. I require another vial of Veritaserum immediately. These three children have been concealing information about Dumbledore's plans to take down the Ministry, and I intend to pry it out of them." Of course she wanted more Veritaserum. He had diluted his supply so heavily that it was almost entirely sugar water by now, and even still she'd spent so much time interrogating innocent students that his supplies were now empty. Not that he'd bothered to brew more, it was easier to lie when it was the truth.
"You have already depleted my stores, Dolores. Veritaserum - being an unapproved method of interrogation - is not something I find myself stocking up on. If you require, I can have another batch brewed within the month."
"Not good enough Snape! You are deliberately being difficult! The Minister shall hear all about your unwillingness to protect his position!" Ah yes, the Minister threat. How many times had he heard that in the last 6 months, he wondered? Ever since his confrontation with the 'High Inquisitor' over her horrific treatment of students, she had waived her connection to Fudge in his face at every opportunity. He knew she would never drag him into such a petty squabble, but she still threatened it, like it was a childhood blanket to her. He rolled his eyes, what a pointless waste of his time. At least the disastrous 'Golden Trio' would avoid being drugged this evening.
"If that will be all, Dolores-" He moved to open the door when Harry spoke up, fear and desperation in his voice.
"Snape! He has Padfoot. He has Padfoot in the place that it's hidden." Padfoot. That was a name he hadn't heard in years. A name he had hoped he'd never hear again as long as he lived. He stifled a wince as he realized the only reason the boy had used Black's ridiculous nickname was because of the memories he'd been privy to. What was the boy talking about, who has Padfoot? Who would be of import to him? Questions whirled in his brain at a mile a minute, as a worrying realization dawned on him. If his suspicions were correct, he would need to act quickly, and quietly.
"Padfoot? What does he mean Snape? Where is what hidden?." The shrill voice brought him back to the present, and he turned to her, looking as disinterested in her relentless questions as he felt.
"... I have no idea." Sweeping out of the office and down towards the dungeons he allowed himself a moment to drop his barriers. Instantly, he was hit with a wave of panic, and he hoped against all odds that Potter and his friends wouldn't try anything foolish. First things first, he would need to confirm Potter's claim. Then, he would need to notify the Order. Turning on his heel he instead bee-lined for the front doors and out towards the castle gates, apparating to Grimmauld Place would be much faster than trying to reach Black through the floo.
Pushing the weathered door of number 12 Grimmauld Place open, not bothering to knock, Snape was already angry about having to have a face-to-face conversation with one of Potter Senior's friends.
"Black! Where are you?" He called out as he stomped down the hallway, not particularly bothered if he woke up the maniacal painting of Black's mother. "Bloody hell Black, it's important!" He reached the kitchen and barged in, to find the disheveled Sirius Black at the table, nursing a mug.
"Snivellus! What a delight." The sarcasm rolled off Sirius' tongue like water.
"The next time I shout for you, be a good dog and make yourself known." Snape growled, running a shaky hand through his hair. "You've not been to the Ministry?" Sirius met Snape's icy stare with one of vague disgust.
"I've been sat here, on Dumbledore's orders, like a good dog, Snivellus. Believe me, a jaunt to the Ministry sounds delightful."
Snape stood back against the wall, his mind racing. Sirius clearly hadn't been taken, so what the hell was Potter ranting about? The answer hit him like a bludger to the jaw. Before Sirius had time to question Snape's sudden change in demeanor, the wizard was back through the door and rushing towards the entrance. Sirius called out after him, and as Snape got to the front door, he turned back to the shut-in.
"Whatever you do mutt, do not leave this house tonight." And with that, he was gone.
Landing back at the Hogwarts gates with a light crack, Snape hurried towards the castle. If Potter had experienced a repeat of Arthur Weasley's attack, then it was a fake. Since the attack and revelation that Potter had dreamt the whole thing, he had reconsidered Dumbledore's concerns about the connection. Originally he had thought the Headmaster to be overreacting, for if the Dark Lord had really established a connection then surely he would have advised those in his inner circle. Despite his weakened state, he had jumped at any opportunity to diminish Potter in front of his followers, and something as powerful as a mental connection would be the ultimate one-up. Further, if he was really planning an attack on the Ministry then it would undoubtedly be the inner circle who were called to fight. That he had been potentially excluded from these plans put him on edge, and meant he was now - for the first time in as long as he could remember - running blind. He could only hope that Potter and his friends had not yet acted on the false information.
He stormed through the castle, heading for Umbridge's office. With any luck, she was still in the midst of her pointless interrogation and he could insert himself into the situation to keep an eye on the children. Reaching the door, his heart sank as he found it wide open, and the office empty. Cursing inwardly, he stopped. Where was Umbridge? The idiot woman hadn't managed to keep them in her grasp for what, half an hour? Cursing again, he left the office and contemplated the best way to find his charges. With Dumbledore and McGonagall - currently residing in St Mungos after a hefty round of stunners - out of the castle, there were few options available to him for staff he could alert. Flitwick might be his best bet, if he dressed the problem up as simply missing students. Yes, that would work, no need to inform him of the potential disaster that was brewing. Hurrying towards Flitwick's office - if he was lucky he'd catch him there and not need to spend extra time searching through the castle for more people - he ran into a clearly distressed-looking Hagrid wandering the halls.
"Professor! Thank goodness, we've got a problem!" Hagrid was wringing his hands like a child, and a thin layer of sweat was starting to form on his brow. "It's about 'Arry, Professor." At that, Snape paused.
"I need to speak to Mr Potter immediately Hagrid, where is he?" There was a slight bite in his voice, but he tried his hardest to disguise it. The blundering half-giant was well-meaning, if not dim, and Snape found he often regarded him with pity, such were the unfortunate circumstances surrounding his gamekeeper position.
"He's gone Professor! Only seen it as I was patrollin' the outskirts o' the forest, but him and a bunch o' other students left the grounds! They were up in the air by the time I seen them, dunno how they was flyin, mind, couldn't see brooms under any o' them!" Thankfully Hagrid was rambling, as it meant he didn't see the brief look of panic flash over Snape's features before he brought his usual mask back up. How would they have left if not on brooms? No matter, if they'd gone, they were surely headed for the Ministry in which case he could no longer intervene without blowing his cover. Instead, he would need to alert the Order.
Thanking Hagrid and promising he'd take things from there, he bee-lined to his rooms. Once inside, he began to cast patronus after patronus, sending them to every Order member he could. He kept the messages brief, a simple 'ambush at Ministry, Golden Trio in danger'. He even sent one off to Dumbledore, although he was unsure if it would make it. Hagrid had said a bunch of the students, and he cursed himself for not asking who specifically. He knew Granger and Weasley would be with Potter, but had the boy managed to coerce any other students into following him? Gods, he hoped not. Slumping down into a high-backed chair, he stared into the crackling fire, his mind racing. All he could do now, was wait.
It felt like hours had passed when the warm oranges and reds of his dying fire flared to life in a flourish of toxic green. The clearly distressed voice of Poppy Pomfrey rang out, snapping him back to reality from the dark thoughts he'd been stewing in.
"Severus! Severus are you there?" Snape got to his feet in an instant, discarding the long-forgotten mug of tea he had brewed to keep his mind at ease.
"I'm coming through, Poppy, what do you need?" His voice was even and calm, a mile away from the fear gripping his mind.
"Blood replenishing, as much as you have, and your expertise. I.. I don't know how to.." The usually stoic and collected Pomfrey had a waver in her voice that did nothing to ease Snape's fears. What on earth had happened at the Ministry..?
"I understand Poppy, I'll be through straight away." He allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath, using the rhythm to still his mind, before hurrying to his lab where he conjured a box and packed every vial of blood replenisher he had on hand. He didn't know if it would be enough, it wasn't a potion he kept a large stock of, but he made a mental note to brew more just in case. With the box of potions safely in hand, he headed back into his living quarters and lit the floo, near shouting "Hospital Wing" before stepping through.
What met him was a scene of quiet chaos. Five beds were currently occupied, four of which held students with Remus Lupin taking up the fifth. All appeared to be injured in some way, although the worst of the bunch seemed to be Mr Weasley, who was currently babbling something he couldn't make out, and sweating profusely. He looked at the other occupants - Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood also lay recovering, none of whom had severe injuries although the gash on Neville's arm would need to be redressed soon. Lupin sat upright, his features dark and unmoving. He was muttering something about telling someone to stay, and Snape felt it wise not to press for clarity just yet. The absence of Mr Potter and Miss Granger was heavy in the room. He was brought out of his inspection by the sound of a curtain pulling back, and a disheveled Poppy Pomfrey hurrying towards him.
"The rest can wait, quickly Severus, she's lost a lot of blood.." She had taken the box of vials from him and was already rushing back to the curtained area. How had he not noticed that already? She? Surely not..
He caught up to Poppy, his longer legs clearing the hospital wing in half the time, and stepped through to the enclosed area. What he saw stopped his breath for a moment. Hermione Granger had been hit, quite badly, although he couldn't be sure what with. Poppy had undressed Miss Granger fully, thankfully with a sheet covering her lower half to protect as much of her modesty as possible. There were a multitude of cuts, bruises, burns and gashes littering her body and face, but what drew his eye was the ugly, angry rip beginning at her naval and travelling the length of her upper body, stopping at her shoulder. It was still bleeding badly, and he could see the grip of dark magic hugging the wounds' opening. It coloured her skin an unnatural purple.
"I've tried everything Severus, the wound won't close! All I can do is try to keep her blood levels up, but honestly I don't know how much longer it will work." He surveyed the injury again, not daring to touch it until he knew more of what he was dealing with.
"Who hit her?" He uttered, his voice cold.
"Remus thinks it was Dolohov, although the curse was wandless. He said the flash looked purple." Hrm, that would make sense, he thought, judging by the colour of the wound. If it was Dolohov, it could be a number of curses. Closing the wound would be relatively easy, but he would need to brew several potions to clear Miss Granger of the dark magic inflicted on her. Running his hands through his hair, he conjured a stool and prepared to work.
"I can heal the wound presently, but the affliction will take time. Is she the only patient you require assistance with?" He knew he sounded cold, far away, but it was better this than panicked and wild. Surely Poppy would understand.
"Yes, I can manage the others. Although young Mister Potter hasn't returned, Lupin claims the Headmaster was with him. Hopefully their injuries won't be too severe."
"Good." He couldn't care less about that damned Potter. "Leave this to me Poppy, tend to your other charges."
He caught the small nod of Poppy Pomfrey before she disappeared back into the main wing. Rolling up his sleeves, he set his wand on the stool next to him and administered a vial of blood replenisher before moving his hands above Hermione's body. In a low voice, he chanted the oddly soothing sing-song counter curse, working painfully slowly from the bottom to the top of her wound. As he moved his hands, the cut gradually knit itself together. The colour did not change, although Snape didn't expect it to, and the scarring would be immense. Still, after nearly twenty minutes of continuous chanting, the wound had closed completely and he knew that Miss Granger was out of immediate danger. He administered another blood replenisher, and sat down on the stool. There were several items he would need to brew to contain and dispel the dark magic currently residing in Miss Granger's body. A Grand Exstimulo for sure, Girding potion wouldn't go amiss, and perhaps a modified Malevolent potion to break down the dark magic. He'd be up all night. Taking another deep breath, he pulled the bedsheet up over the young student's body, and really looked at her face for the first time that evening. Her features were distorted into a grimace, even though she was unconscious she was clearly still in pain. He clenched his fists, breathing heavily through his nose in a vain attempt to calm down - he had failed her. Turning on his heel, he swept from Hermione's bedside, striding past Poppy and out into the cool night air of the castle halls. He could floo back to his quarters, but the cold - mild as it was - felt like a refreshing slap in the face and perhaps the journey back to the dungeons would help him to organise his thoughts. Besides, there was still much work to be done.
The end of the school year brought with it a nervous calm that hadn't been present at the start. News of Umbridge's triumphant defeat had been on everyone's lips, and with the attack at the Ministry and reappearance of Voldemort, the Minister of Magic had - funnily enough - declined to replace her. Details on the disappearance of Umbridge varied, from an unfortunate apparition incident that separated her pink-clad feet from her body, to an acromantula rampage that resulted in her being trapped in a web cocoon somewhere deep within the forest. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't bothered to quell the rumors, for even though they were pleased with Umbridge's fall from grace, the night had been scarred beyond repair for all of them. Ron had been on a steady dosage of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction after his run in with the brains. Although the side-effects had worn off, and he no longer heard twisted voices in his head, he would occasionally shiver as if someone had just walked over his grave. Anyone that dared to ask him about his experience within that dreaded Ministry room was met with a Weasley signature death stare. Harry, much like Lupin had been the night of the battle, was a shell. Not only did he have the weight of his actions and the ramifications that had been brought on his friends pressing on his shoulders, he was painfully aware that his actions - and his actions alone - had been the catalyst for his godfather's death. Neither Hermione nor Ron had brought up that fact, something Harry had been grateful for, but they didn't need to. That thought haunted every moment he was awake, and barged it's way into his dreams at night, turning them into terrifying nightmares. Dreamless sleep had helped, but only for so long.
Hermione had been on a rigorous potions regime for ten days after the battle, and had only regained consciousness a week into it. When she awoke, she had been surrounded by staff and students, with both Harry and Ron hugging her fiercely and several of the teachers leaving her gifts of chocolates and flowers. Madam Pince had even pulled some books from the restricted section - on the advice of McGonagall, of course - for Hermione to read once she woke. The pain had still been heavy, even with a cocktail of potions to help, and she had needed another week of hospital rest afterwards while her magic healed. Although she appreciated the daily visits from her friends, she felt completely drained and some days would struggle to keep her eyes open as they kept her up to date with the latest Hogwarts news. Professor Snape would arrive every few days, box of potions in hand, but would never stop by her bed. Instead, he would pass them off to Madam Pomfrey and stride from the hospital wing without so much as a glance in her direction. She had been told he'd been instrumental in her recovery, and she wanted to thank him but his blatant absence was obvious. He must have been furious with her, she thought, with how stupid they'd all been.
With two days left of term, Hermione found herself standing outside the potion master's office door, building up the courage to knock. She wasn't sure why she was afraid, she supposed it was the potential for reprimand that she didn't want to face, but also the idea that he didn't want to see her to begin with. Although the acquaintance they had formed throughout the year was still tentative, it was important to her. She didn't imagine it would be important to him, but that was a possibility she was comfortable with. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked on the heavy door. After a moment, the dulcet tones of her Professor rang out from within the room. "Enter."
He sat behind his desk, an unbelievable mountain of paperwork piled in front of him, and a cauldron bubbling away in the corner. The telltale signs of a red inkwell sat on his desk, Hermione realized that even though her life at Hogwarts had been put on hold for the last two weeks, everyone else's had continued on. There had still been lessons, there was still homework to grade. OWLs had been and gone, and Hermione had been allowed to take them in the hospital wing under the watch of an adjudicator. Despite missing a chunk of revision time, she had still been quietly confident.
"I didn't realise I'd missed so much homework.." She said, a small smile playing on her face, her eyes cast low. Snape didn't look up.
"Unfortunately your.. Medical needs.. Have left me little time for teaching obligations." His voice had a bite to it that made her uncomfortable, she hadn't realized that her recovery had taken up so much of his time.
"Oh.." Was all she could manage.
"Indeed. So if you don't mind, Miss Granger, I would like to have these finished by the new school year." The dismissal stung, but she knew what she needed to say would only take a moment, so instead of turning to the door she stood her ground.
"I just wanted to thank you, sir. Without your potions skills and knowledge on dark magic I most likely wouldn't have survived the attack in the Ministry. I am beyond grateful." He stopped then, and looked up at her, a scowl on his face.
"Rest assured this will be the only time, assuming you decide to run head first into a blatant trap with little regard for yours or anyone else's safety more than once." His eyes were cold, as was his voice. She bit the inside of her bottom lip to stop the impact of his words. Snape returned to his paperwork, and she knew she had to leave.
"Have a nice holiday, Professor." She muttered, as she left through the office door. She needed to pack, and she had better things to think about than Professor Snape's ill-tempered demeanor.
As soon as she had left, Snape sat back in his chair and set his quill down. The news of Sirius Black's fall at the Ministry had been surprisingly hard to take. That he was dead was of no consequence to Snape - the man had berated and taunted him ever since they'd met - but the fact that Snape had tried to prevent it and failed weighed on him. No one outside Dumbledore knew that, of course, but it added to the mounting pile of insecurities and deficiencies that Snape carried on his shoulders. He hadn't wanted to see Miss Granger, and her arriving at his door had unnerved him. He knew he'd been harsh, but it was important that she didn't know the worry that she'd put him through. Nor, he thought, could she ever know the pain he felt at seeing her broken body in the hospital wing. So he did the only thing he knew, he shut her out. Perhaps his caution on running head first into danger would dissuade her from following those two knuckle-brains blindly. He sighed, grabbing his quill once more and scanning the pathetic attempt at an essay, not likely.
And just like that book 5 is done! Heads up, I'll be taking a week off to get ahead of writing again, so no upload next week! Still, I'm very excited to get into book 6, and I hope you are too, so hold tight :)
