Let's start moving things along, shall we? Enjoy :)
A reply for my latest reviewer ChosenInWinter: First off, thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying so far. Honestly, I'm not 100% happy with how I've written the Harry/Ron/Hermione relationship so far but I'm always trying to keep it in the back of my mind and redeem it as I go. I'm hopeful that by the end of DH it'll be much better! So please bear with me :)
It was the following Friday and it had been a long week. No matter what she did, every little thing seemed to be going wrong. She was all over the place with her assignments, she seemed to be getting into arguments with everyone, and she'd tripped and dropped her school things not once but twice! To top it off, Hermione now sat in her Potions lesson, hair sticking in every direction, trying very hard not to have a breakdown while her potion did just that. Next to her, the cauldron Harry stood over was filled with a gorgeous eggshell blue liquid, and she knew he'd perfected the brew. She also knew that had he not had in his possession a potions text that was carefully annotated with the correct answers, he would be failing as much as she. That, she supposed, gave her a little comfort. It was on her to-do list to get hold of the book, if only to copy out some of the annotations for herself, but Harry treated it like his most prized possession. So far she'd only been able to steal the occasional glance, never enough to complete a full potion. If only he was that attentive with the rest of his schoolwork, she thought with a sigh. Professor Slughorn made his way along the row, stopping briefly to gaze into her cauldron with a pitying smile. It was all she could do to rummage in her bag in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. She could hear Slughorn's excited praise for Harry which only served to add more colour to her cheeks.
What was bothering her more was the matter of McLaggen. As if she needed more reasons to dislike her new potions Professor, she was now lumbered with Cormac McLaggen as a result! Slughorn had decided that there was no better way to celebrate the new year than with one of his 'famed' parties. Having attended some of his Slug Club dinners, she could only imagine that this party would be more of the same. Of course she'd been invited, Slughorn's desperate need to collect as many up and coming students as possible meant that with her grades - as well as the fact that she was a muggleborn - she was nearly at the top of the list despite her recent failings in potions. Harry was on the list as well, obviously. Who wouldn't want the Chosen One's picture on their mantle? What was perhaps more obvious to the average onlooker was the absence of Ron's name on the guest list. Ron had below average grades and compared to his older brothers wasn't close to reaching their achievements. She supposed for Slughorn it was a disappointing case of been there, done that. Quite predictably, however, Ron hadn't seen it that way. He had gone from being furious at the snub, to feigning complete disinterest in the gathering. Knowing they'd need to take a plus one, Hermione had asked him as the obvious choice. She'd thought it would kill two birds with one stone - he'd get to be included and she'd be able to spend some quality time with friends even if the party was a bore. She hadn't banked on Ron refusing.
"There's no way I would step foot in that party even if you paid me! Besides, I've got a mountain of homework to get through already and it's just the first week. We can't all be bookworms like you, you know?"
The response had hurt, but it also left her with the difficulty of finding someone else. Harry had been the next obvious choice, but of course he was already attending with Ginny. He'd at least had the good graces to be apologetic about it. In fact, everyone she'd asked already had a date, and she realised this must have been how Ron felt when he awkwardly asked her to the Yule ball in her fourth year. So, when McLaggen had cornered her in the library earlier that week and asked her if she'd been 'lapped up by a suitable bachelor yet' - the phrase made her shudder - she begrudgingly offered herself up. Was it partly to spite Ron? Yes. Was it also because she didn't want the embarrassment of being there by herself? Absolutely. For the briefest of moments she'd entertained the notion of asking her Professor to accompany her, and then reality had crashed back home and she'd realised that he was her teacher and that was both ridiculous and highly inappropriate. So it was better to go with McLaggen than with no one. Besides, it was only one evening. She'd put up with Ron's horrific table manners and asinine conversation for six years, surely she could handle McLaggen's?
She was thankful, then, that it was Friday and although the dreaded Slughorn shindig was tomorrow, she at least had the bonus of her first extra lesson with Professor Snape that evening. Perhaps she would even broach the subject of the party over tea, just to ascertain if he'd been invited as well, of course.
It had been a long week, Severus thought to himself as he made his way back to the Defense classroom that Friday evening. Dinner had been a quiet affair, thank Merlin, although once again the Headmaster had been absent and he was sure some of the students were starting to become uncomfortable at his continuous disappearances. Severus felt marginally better now that he was aware of the nature of the trips, thanks to Miss Granger's hesitantly-given intelligence, but ultimately he worried. Albus Dumbledore was easily the most powerful wizard alive, but dark magic was an art never to be underestimated, and wherever Albus was visiting was sure to have traces of it. Reaching the door to his classroom, he sighed as he pushed it open and made his way through the room and up to his office. Bloody horcruxes! Severus Snape, for all that he desperately hoped the light would win, had never been much of an optimist, but throwing an evil so great as a horcrux into the mix dampened his spirits even more. It meant the Dark Lord was immortal, in a way. Unkillable. If they were to actually find and destroy the vessel holding his soul then Severus had half a mind to cast the final blow himself, but that was assuming the madman had only made one! From what Miss Granger had inferred, it sounded like multiple of the evil objects were involved. The task Dumbledore was trying to complete was practically impossible.
Sitting down at his desk, he ran a tired hand through his hair and leaned back, contemplating his next steps. With each passing day he felt the walls closing in further, and try as he might he couldn't think of a way out. He needed to speak to Draco, to figure out how he could help, but the boy was all but avoiding him. On multiple occasions he had requested the boy's presence in his office, had tried to corner him after classes, had even gone so far as to tail him to the Slytherin Common Room in an attempt to get him to talk, but the Malfoy heir always managed to stay just out of reach. Severus could see the telltale signs of exhaustion and anxiety gripping the teenager, but unless Draco let him in there was little he could do. It felt very much like he was resigned to waiting for fate to deliver her final blow, and the morbid thought unsettled Severus so much that he hastily grabbed for a quill and pulled one of many essays in front of him to mark. Anything for the distraction these days.
He was interrupted from his maudlin thoughts and snarky penmanship by a soft knock at the door. Furrowing his brows in confusion for a moment, he glanced at the time and saw that it was 8pm, of course Miss Granger's extra tuition was due to continue tonight. Cursing himself for letting the appointment slip from his mind, he closed his eyes momentarily and let out a heavy sigh before calling out the customary 'Enter'. The door opened without so much as a creak and in stepped Miss Granger, who greeted him with a shy smile and a nod of the head. He had to stop himself from returning the smile but the nod he could manage, making sure to keep the air of neutrality he had come to fashion whilst around the girl. His attempt at writing her a brief reply confirming their lessons had ended up altogether too informal and he cursed himself once again for being uncharacteristically uncontrolled when it came to matters involving her. You are a lecherous old fool, Severus, no better than Black in the way you fawn over the girl, your student. That sharp thought sent a wave of repulsion through him and his features soured.
"Miss Granger," he began, quickly hiding his self-loathing. "I see you received my correspondence."
The girl beamed at him, nodding with enthusiasm as she took the seat in front of his desk. "Yes, thank you for replying so quickly sir. I felt quite cruel writing to you at all over the holidays, it was kind of you to indulge me with a response." He waved her pseudo-apology away with a hand before bringing it to rest with the other under his chin.
"Not at all. There is a war fast approaching and you are my student, it is my duty to ensure you are as prepared as you may need to be. We can't have our youngest Order member falling behind the pack, after all." He smirked. That was wise, don't make it personal, keep it strictly business. However, he was sure he'd seen a flicker of something in the girl's eyes as he spoke, gone so quick he couldn't tell if he'd imagined it.
"Of course, sir." She said with a more reserved smile. "So, what will we be doing this evening?"
He regarded her carefully. Truth be told, he had forgotten to plan out her defense lessons, what with everything else going on. That just left an Occlumency session, one he was sure she didn't need but with everything she knew, one that was still beneficial.
"I think before we tackle the subject of defense, it would be wise to re-examine your shields and attempt to break through them. I trust you have been keeping up with your exercises?"
"Yes sir, every night. I've attempted to construct something a tad more.. Minimal." She grinned again.
"Very well." He rose from his chair and moved around the desk, coming to stand before her. Removing his wand from the inside of his robe, he motioned for her to ready herself. He could see Miss Granger settle into the chair, set her shoulders and slow her breathing. She closed her eyes and took a final steadying breath before opening them and locking her gaze with his.
"I'm ready."
Severus raised his wand ready to cast the incantation, when a small crack was heard behind them. He turned sharply on his heel, seeing Miss Granger lean to look around him as he did, and was met with a very anxious looking Sherbet. The house elf stood ringing her ragged apron before she looked up at the potions master with wide eyes.
"Professor Snape is to be accompanying Sherbet to the Headmaster's office at once."
Snape frowned. Sherbet was by all accounts a good elf, and in the many years she had resided in the castle he had never known her to be demanding of a Professor. The students, yes, but she was well aware of the perceived hierarchy and it was extremely out of character for her to be this short. He watched as the tiny elf held her hand out expectantly.
"Sir?" Hermione looked as confused as he did. Severus turned back to her for a moment.
"I'm sure it's nothing Miss Granger. It might be wise for you to return to your dormitory, however." And before she could respond he grabbed the proffered hand and was whisked away.
As he felt the room come into view and the pull of apparition fade, his eyes were immediately drawn to the Headmaster's desk. Behind it, the Headmaster sat slumped over, his eyes closed as if sleeping. That was not what alarmed him, however. Instead, his attention settled on the wizard's hand resting on the desk. It was black.
"Merlin Albus, what did you do?!" Rushing over to where the wizard sat, he kneeled down and with a flick of his wand cast a wordless diagnostic. The spell responded immediately, the aura flaring with the distinct glow of dark magic.
"Jesus, Albus.." He trailed off. In all his panic, he hadn't checked that the old man was still breathing. He quickly cast a Rennervate and to his relief the Headmaster began to stir.
"Severus.. my dear boy.." Dumbledore's voice was strained and rough, as if he'd spent hours screaming. His eyes lacked any of the usual sparkle, and his skin was deathly pale.
"What the hell happened Albus?" Severus demanded as he examined the hand further. The charred, blackened skin extended up just past his wrist.
"A lapse in judgement.. by an old fool.. forgive me Severus, the pull was too strong.."
Severus didn't have time to question the man's cryptic response. It would be just like Albus to speak in riddles at a time like he aimed his wand directly at the blackened hand and began to chant in a low voice, an incantation he had only ever read about but never sought cause to use. Slowly, ghostly white tendrils of magic began to pour from the wand and attach themselves to the Headmaster's fingertips. The tendrils coiled around and snaked down each finger like smoke. "Sherbet!" The elf appeared next to him in the blink of an eye, still looking panic stricken. "I need you to fetch a vial, no, two vials, empty ones, from my lab. Quickly!" The elf merely nodded before disappearing with a crack. Snape could feel the pull on his magic as the incantation grew stronger, it was all he could do to keep it steady while the elf collected his things. He was about to curse out apparition as an altogether too slow mode of transportation when Sherbet blinked back into existence and all but threw a vial into his free hand. Allowing the spell to break free from his hold and increase in intensity, he positioned a vial below the wisps of smoke and watched as some of the inky black began to drain from Dumbledore's hand and drip into the container. The process was long, arduous. Every once in a while he had to force himself to look up at Dumbledore's face, just to confirm the old man was still with them.
After what felt like an eternity, the shadowy coils began to retract and unfurl themselves from Dumbledore's hand, eventually slithering back to disappear as they hit the tip of Severus' wand. He had been right, he'd needed two vials. The lines etched into his brow became more profound as he once again examined the Headmaster's hand. Although the blackening had lessened considerably - now only confined to the top half of his hand - Severus could tell it hadn't worked. Casting another diagnostic he watched as the same aura began to flare, although diminished. Severus stilled. Dark magic such as this did not linger and wait, it had a purpose. The question now was, how much time did the Headmaster have left?
"Sherbet." The elf, not daring to make a sound up until that point, let out a small yelp and rushed over to the potions master.
"Sir?"
"Take these." He muttered, corking the last of the vials. "Dispense them in my lab. Under no circumstance are you to open them, is that clear? The highest shelf, furthest back. No one must see." He noticed his hand begin to tremble as he held the vials. Swallowing, he handed them to Sherbet and watched as she disappeared once again. Finally, he allowed himself to sigh. Closing his eyes, hanging his head, a thousand thoughts whirled inside his brain, none of them clear. Try as he might, he just couldn't think.
"Tell me.. Severus.." Retching his head up to meet the old man's, he could do little but stare. Dumbledore's skin was still pale and papery thin, his eyes sunken slightly, but the twinkle had returned. The look upon his face wasn't the usual jovial smile, however, it was grave. Severus sighed once more.
"I.. I can't fix it. All I can do is delay the inevitable.."
"And that is no fault of yours.. My boy.. Now, tell me."
Severus winced at his words. "It's hard to say. Perhaps a year, maybe slightly less, unlikely little more. It's contained, but the damage is done." Wearily, he got to his feet, depositing himself in the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk. He couldn't bear to look at the man in front of him, choosing instead to rest his head in his hands.
"Mm.. a year? Thank you, Severus." Severus' eyes widened as the elderly wizard spoke.
"Thank me? You want to thank me, you old fool?! For what? Condemning you?! For sealing your fate?"
"For giving me as much time as you could."
Severus choked out a bitter laugh. "I suppose it's to be expected right? Severus Snape, can't keep anyone safe.." He trailed off, the lump beginning to form in his throat.
Neither said a word for a long while. Both men resigned to let Severus' words hang in the air.
"The Malfoy boy has been tasked with my demise, correct?" Dumbledore's voice suddenly had taken on a glimpse of his usual self. Severus raised his eyes to meet the Headmaster. It was all he could do to murmur in affirmation.
"Well then." Dumbledore's features crinkled into a weary smile. "I believe the time has come for us to have a discussion, Severus."
Hermione shuffled nervously in her chair. It had been nearly two hours, and Professor Snape had still to return. He'd said it was likely nothing, but surely if he'd been gone this long it must be something serious?
At first she'd decided to heed her Professor's words. Besides, what was she supposed to do while he was gone, just wait patiently? Her time was likely much better spent in the common room working through her schoolwork, or in the library trying to research this notion of Horcruxes. She'd paced a while, absentmindedly chewing on her bottom lip, and then had grabbed her bag and made to leave his office. Before she reached the door, however, something compelled her to stay. What if there had been an accident, or what if he'd been called away? If he'd had to go to You-Know-Who, he could end up in a state similar to the last time she'd been privy to one of their meetings. Surely then, it was better to wait here for him? Just in case. The worst that could happen was a severe dressing down when he returned, and she was sure she'd be able to handle it.
So, instead of following instructions and leaving Snape's office like he'd asked her, she'd dropped her bag next to his desk and sat down to meditate. The Professor had said they were to examine her shields this evening, so what better way to pass the time than to practice constructing them. That had only lasted so long, though, and now Hermione found herself feeling as though she'd overstayed her welcome and questioning just what she hoped to accomplish by remaining there. Besides, the more she thought about it, if he was at a meeting and returned injured he would surely head straight to his quarters and not his office. Further, if he was injured like last time he'd probably just summon a patronus again. There was likely no reason for him to return here at all.
She was still mulling over her options when he returned. The door to his office had swung open with such force she thought some creature must have broken into the castle, and as he stood there she couldn't help but notice how oddly manic he appeared. In fact, it was almost as if he barely registered her presence, instead slamming the door shut with equal force and moving to a cabinet behind his desk. Her eyes never left the man as he stalked across the room.
"S-sir?"
Snape stopped momentarily, as if only just noticing her, before continuing on.
"Miss Granger. I believe I gave you an order." His voice was flat, emotionless. Hermione swallowed.
"Well yes, but I was worried so I thought it best to remain just in case. Are you- is that liquor sir?" Her eyes widened slightly as Snape reached the cabinet, throwing it open and grabbing a large bottle of what looked to be some sort of whiskey. He quickly uncorked it and took a long swig, one hand steadying himself on the stone wall.
"Astute as always, Miss Granger." He sank into his desk chair with the bottle in hand, looking past her. Hermione shuffled again in her seat.
"Apologies sir, I should go. We can examine my shields another time." With this, Severus seemed to gain a myriad of emotions all at once. His eyes flashed with anger, sorrow, and something scarily close to madness in just one moment. Setting the bottle down with a thud, he rose again from his chair.
"Of course, your lesson. Can't have the brains of the Golden Trio missing out on a vital Occlumency lesson!"
Hermione moved to protest. "Really sir, it's probably best-" She was cut off by the deafening sound of Snape's palm hitting the desk.
"No." His voice was eerily quiet. "It is my duty to arm you as best I can, and so I will. You asked for lessons, that is what we will do." He pulled out his wand, aiming it squarely between Hermione's eyes, and before she'd had even a second to prepare he was bellowing the incantation.
"Legillimens!"
Whenever Professor Snape had entered her mind before, it had been deliberate but gentle. She had acknowledged his presence within her head and he had been almost mindful of how hard he had pushed. Even when the objective was to break through her defences it had always been done in a way that felt respectful. As Hermione frantically worked to construct her shields, she could tell immediately that this was different. There was no sense of propriety, no careful examination. Her mind felt as though it was being stretched further than the boundaries of her skull, and she could barely focus on the task in hand for the dull pain that was resonating throughout her head. Time and time again she worked to raise up the walls of her demure library, and each time she did they would come crumbling down as if made of sand. She could feel herself start to panic, for suddenly she realised she had no idea who this man was rummaging inside her brain. For the first time, she no longer felt safe.
When, finally, her shields crumbled for the last time, Hermione could feel an array of memories swirling around at the forefront of her mind. Unlike her well-organised filing system, these memories appeared to be completely random and free. Was this what it felt like to be assaulted by You-Know-Who, she thought vaguely. Perhaps. When it seemed as though the rolodex of memories would never cease, her inner vision cleared and she was met with a scene she had never hoped to have uncovered.
She landed in Dumbledore's office. She was sitting at his desk, listening to him with terrified wonder. Hermione could barely register what was being said, the horror of this memory being replayed gripping her.
"I must have your oath that this conversation will not leave the room.." She had kept it secret, kept it safe.
"You alone must be ready for war.."
"It is imperative that you do not divulge the real reasons behind your new lessons. Not even to Professor Snape.." She had given her word, he wasn't supposed to see any of this!
"This will only work if you are the one to broach the subject with Professor Snape. You must claim this idea as your own.." Please.. No..
The scene swirled away into nothingness and once again Hermione could feel her memories flying past. This time, snippets of the last year and a half appeared, as if her Professor was searching for something. She saw herself, rehearsing her speech to him in the bathroom before her lesson. She watched as a flustered version of herself nearly toppled over with arms full of potions ingredients, only to be stopped in midair by her Professor. She felt the embarrassment flood her as she watched herself smile at his sarcasm. The scene swirled again and again, as if he were determined to watch through every lesson they'd ever had, until once again it came to a halt. They were back in his classroom, but this time she recognized the lesson immediately. She was sitting, one hand resting in his, as he carefully applied dittany to her bleeding skin.
"I don't remember purchasing Slytherin robes.."
"So it would seem."
Then he was standing, arms folded across himself to form a protective shield.
"You should seek to use your blinding intellect and wits to show strength over an opponent." Her skin crawled as she recounted how those words had made her feel, light and dizzy, almost.
Another memory. She was in the Room of Requirement, they were practicing the Patronus Charm. She saw herself try over and over to conjure a patronus, her frustration rising as the spell failed. Then her thoughts lit up, she saw her memory within the memory, of the potions desk, her hand in his, and she watched as a brilliant otter burst forth from her wand. No.. these were private. Not meant for anyone..
It was as if something inside her snapped. The embarrassment, the shame, the fear of what her Professor would think now knowing that he did. All of those emotions seemed to bubble up into a giant mass and expel themselves at once. Hermione had read of the spell, of course. She couldn't remember which text, but it had appeared as little more than a footnote. An escape plan, to be used in moments of great peril. Was this peril enough to be considered great? It certainly felt that way. Mustering up all the energy she had left, she felt herself raise her wand and yell out the spell.
"Contrarius Iussum!"
It was the most bizarre sensation. It was as if Hermione was simultaneously tumbling out of her own mind and directly into that of her Professor's, her mind being open and shut all at once, being pulled in two different directions. She seemed to tumble through a sea of emotions until she felt herself land into a mindspace that was decidedly not her own. Looking around, she immediately recognized her surroundings, but everything seemed.. Broken. The crisp white nothingness had been tarnished with muddy patches all around her, and the once grand horse's head that stood guard to Snape's inner sanctum was now lying defeated on its side. Past the broken defender, she could clearly see the potion master sitting at his chess table, but rather than the calm controlled game he had played before, this time he was busy trying to reposition the pieces. For each one he placed, another fell, over and over again. It was seemingly endless.
She turned back towards the bleak landscape that was Snape's mind. These muddy patches, they must be memories! Why had he suddenly lost all control? What the hell had happened with Dumbledore?!
It was if that thought alone had been a request, for now the muddiness above her began to form and take shape. No! She didn't want to intrude, she couldn't break his trust in her! It was too late, however, for the memory flew into clarity of its' own accord, and there was nothing she could do but watch.
She was back in Dumbledore's office, but the scene was somber. The Headmaster looked.. Well honestly he looked like death. What was wrong with his hand?! But this was odd, where was Snape?
"You ask too much, Albus. You have always asked too much."
She looked over to the window and could make out his form, slumped and defeated. The words had come out hoarse, although she couldn't see his face she thought he might have been crying.
"This is the most beneficial outcome, Severus. It will cement your place beside Tom, removing any doubt of loyalty to him."
"And turn everyone else into my enemy!"
"You cannot let Draco complete this task, the boy's soul must be preserved."
"And what of my soul, Albus?!" She could see his face now, the same manic gaze he had held before. The silence that permeated the room was so thick she could almost choke on it.
"This is not a negotiation, Severus. I am going to die, and you will be the one to do it. It must be by your hand."
Hermione's eyes widened, suddenly finding it difficult to breath. The words repeated over and over in her mind, "I am going to die", but she could barely register them. Looking to her Professor, all she could see was defeat. But surely, there had to be something she was missing? How could he just accept this? Why wouldn't he keep fighting this?!
She wanted to scream at him, scream at the Headmaster, but the scene began to fade rapidly and just like that she was spinning backwards out of the Professor's mind. The force with which she was rejected from inside his head was so great that she found herself staggering backwards as the office came into view. Her chair had long been discarded, now a heap on the floor. Professor Snape still stood by his desk, hunched over and clutching the side with one white-knuckled hand. Her brain was still jumbled with thoughts and emotions, but one singular message was coming through loud and clear - she needed to get out.
She began to back over towards the door, not daring to take her eyes off the man. He looked up as she moved, his black eyes piercing hers and she could see a war taking place within them. Anger, furious anger, and tremendous fear.
"Miss Granger-"
"I need to go. I- I need to go." She turned away from him and turned the handle, but as soon as it swung open a force slammed it shut again. She spun to see Snape's outstretched hand, the wild look in his eyes once more. He was looking in her direction, but straight through her, and his breathing was ragged.
"Open the door Professor." She was struggling to keep her voice even, although all she wanted to do was scream and cry and demand that he explain what she had just witnessed, she knew she would hate whatever answer he could give.
"Please-" His voice was tiny, like a child's.
"NOW!" She could feel a wetness on her cheeks, when had she started crying? She couldn't breathe, it felt like all the air in the room was being sucked out. She watched with something akin to horror as her Professor seemed to shrink before her, his knees hitting the floor, his head bowed. When he looked back, there were tears in his eyes.
"I do not want this.. Any of this.."
She heard the door once more click off the latch.
"No one must know, Hermione."
She ran.
A/N: Contrarius Iussum - loosely/badly translates to 'reverse command'. I won't lie, Latin isn't my first language :D
