Hermione narrowly forbore rolling her eyes at the headline, wondering who had been responsible for making it sound as though the Pure Adults had died. Harry made a mental face, but then they mentally shrugged at one another. Those who worked at the Prophet felt it was their job to sensationalize every bit of news that they spewed across the front page. Although she'd have thought that the actual story was eye-catching enough as it was, every extra little bit of shock and amazement that resulted from the headline was what the Prophet liked best.
The increase in noise and expectancy in the room was palpable as all the students went on to read the article and exclaim at whatever particularly struck their fancy.
The article explained that a high-placed anonymous source at the Ministry had exclusively informed the newspaper the previous day about the scrolls that declared that the Pure Adults no longer held that status. Hermione was amused to note that no matter how sensational the newspaper normally was, its phraseology was suddenly skirting around the fact that the Pure Adults had now had sex and were no longer virgins; she supposed she should be impressed that the headline hadn't been "Pure Adults Score" or something equally crass.
The questions of when, by whom, and what this meant were abandoned in favour of highlighting the fact that the wizarding world was now materially safer because Voldemort could not profit directly from the Pure Adult power. The paper nevertheless admonished the wizarding world at large—and the Hogwarts students in particular—to continue observing everyone in order to try to work out the identities of these two people. Hermione was surprised that the article didn't go into more detail about the power the two ex-Pure Adults now presumably wielded, and she wondered if someone from the Ministry had had to lean hard to keep that suppressed.
Or, she considered cynically, perhaps it was the headline for tomorrow's edition. Voldemort would still benefit from having two very powerful wizards on his side, after all. Or, for all the anxious readers of the Prophet knew, the two of them could be planning to take over the world and rival Voldemort. They therefore needed to be found and questioned at the earliest opportunity. Blah, blah, blah.
You're looking awfully jaded over there, Harry observed.
Ginny was currently theorizing that the information must have been leaked deliberately to improve everyone's safety, and out loud, Harry agreed that it would be nice if the Ministry was being as prudent and thoughtful as that. Draco was nodding and looking mildly impressed that Ginny had worked this out on her own, though Hermione would have liked to think that he'd noticed by now that the youngest Weasley was not stupid.
I'm imagining when the Prophet is planning on dropping the bombshell about all the power we have, she answered with a smile.
"Do you think the Ministry actually knows who it is?" Ron asked.
Harry sent a mental nod. If they miss it, you could always send in a nice editorial.
She sent mental laughter to Harry. "I think," Hermione answered Ron out loud, "that if the Ministry actually knew, they'd have trouble keeping it to themselves."
Mentally, she composed, Have you adequately considered what I can do with all this power that I now wield….
Ron snorted, and said, "They are pretty rubbish at keeping secrets, aren't they?" at the same time that Draco said, "They can't keep a secret to save their lives."
The two boys looked at one another askance, and Harry and Hermione grinned at the sentiment and the fact that it had been shared.
Harry added a special mental grin for Hermione. Oh, can we? I think the Prophet needs to have its collective mind messed with on a regular basis.
"I suspect it's much safer for everyone if the Ministry doesn't know anything about it," Harry told Ron and Draco, struggling to keep a straight face with their continued confusion on agreeing like that.
Her lips tipped up. The Prophet would no doubt dismiss anything I said as lies and balderdash. Nothing like the truth to make the Prophet ignore it.
The Ministry was often good at that, too. Or maybe that had largely been Fudge.
Yeah. Harry sighed. We could send our entire history from September and relax knowing they'd bin it.
Ron rose to his feet, apparently deciding that that had been enough scary bonding. "And since the Ministry couldn't find Voldemort until he showed up in the bloody Atrium and destroyed half of it, unless the two ex-Pure Adults show up there, too, Voldemort's not going to get any information from leaks that way. Nice to see you all this morning, share the shocking news and all that, but we've got to be off to the pitch. Gin?"
Hermione was pretty sure practice didn't start until ten, which meant that they still had plenty of time to get changed and get outside, but it still amused her to see the one thing that Ron was reliably eager about.
"Have fun," she told the two of them, a sentiment which Harry echoed.
Ginny nodded, although her expression was a little wry. Ron was already on his way down the table, encouraging the rest of the team to get a move on and never mind about the Prophet headlines because the newspaper wasn't going to help them win the final.
"It's good that he's enthusiastic about something," Harry said before she had the chance.
She laughed at her oft-repeated words coming out of his mouth. "Yes, it is. Sleep well?"
Now that Ron and Ginny were out of earshot, Harry managed a nod without his cheeks looking as though they were about to light on fire. Of course, she'd seen them in positions a great deal more compromising.
"Yes, thank you."
Draco smiled. "You didn't have to let us sleep in, you know."
"I know," she answered, shrugging. "But it's nice when someone around here is sleeping soundly. I don't mind."
The two of them nodded their agreement and then made their getaway before anyone could further solicit their opinion of the shocking news that the paper had brought this morning. Hermione thought it was lucky that it had arrived right before a Quidditch practice or Ron might have had more questions than they particularly wanted to answer.
They headed back down to the dungeons. Hermione didn't have to start the Weresbane until tomorrow, but Poppy had requested more Calming Draught and Headache Reliever for the hospital wing, and Hermione wanted to get that brewing out of the way before her attention was taken up with her pet project. Draco had volunteered to help, so Harry had declared his intention of sitting in the lab with them and doing his homework—since, he pointed out with a grin, this was the best way he could assist them given his Potions skill.
He was quite a good student, of course, but first-year Potions with Professor Snape and a grudge had pretty much cured any chance of Harry loving them, and neither she nor Draco were going to try to force Harry to brew when he didn't need to.
They hadn't made it all the way down the stairs, however, before they were intercepted.
"Good morning, mila moya. Harry, Draco."
She smiled up at the Bulgarian who had jogged down the steps to walk at her side.
"Good morning, Viktor. How are you?"
"I am vell, thank you. I thought that you vere going to be all alone this morning vhen these two did not arrive vith you."
"I'm not physically attached to them," she observed with more good humour than she would have had anyone else made the observation. Viktor had been here for less than two weeks, after all, and she, Harry, and Draco did spend a great deal of time together.
"Of course not," he agreed with every indication of complete earnestness. "I vas vondering if you vould like to spend some time vith me this morning?"
"Oh." She waffled for a moment. "Well, that's very nice of you, Viktor, but there are some potions I have to work on, and—"
"And she'd be happy to have some company," Harry finished for her.
"And unfortunately," Draco chimed in right on cue, "Harry and I have to go to the library this morning to do some research. I'm sure Hermione would be pleased if you were willing to sit in with her, wouldn't you, Hermione?"
She tried not to look as exasperated as she felt; she could see exactly what the two of them were doing. But Viktor was looking all hopeful, and she wasn't about to accuse the two of them of inventing an excuse for her and Viktor to be alone because Viktor wouldn't understand what was going on.
That was completely unnecessary, she told Harry. We could have spent time together later.
No time like the present, Harry observed cheerfully, not seeming the slightest bit repentant.
She gave in, smiling at Viktor. "I'd be happy with some company. The two of you just need your book bags, I take it?"
They nodded their agreement, and the four of them headed back to the common room. Harry and Draco grabbed up their bags and headed out after admonishing her and Viktor to have fun. She rolled her eyes as she waved them away and then turned to escort Viktor through her bedroom—with the bed she was very grateful she made every day even if she wasn't expecting company—and into her laboratory.
Potions were definitely not a speciality of Viktor's, but he appeared quite content to praise her lab and ask her about the different areas and shelves and ingredients that he could see. She conjured a comfortable chair for him, made him tea, and then set to work on her potions, conjuring flames beneath two cauldrons and pulling out the necessary ingredients.
"You are very good at this," Viktor observed after nearly fifteen minutes of silence.
She smiled absently at him as she continued with her work.
"Thank you. I've always liked potions."
"Is this the one for the volves that vas in the paper?"
She shook her head. "I'm starting that one tomorrow. These are just for the hospital wing. Very straightforward, really."
"It is more than I could manage," he observed. "And your potion for the volves is very clever."
"Thank you," she repeated before she waved her knife at him. "You're not allowed to spend this whole time giving me compliments."
He smiled at her. "I vill keep that in mind."
He seemed content after that to simply watch her work, and since he wasn't like Ron, impatient and restless after all of five minutes, she found it easy to tune him out and brew.
It was at moments like these, though, that she once again regretted that she wasn't on speaking terms with Severus. The two of them could have made very short work of the potions she was brewing today, and it would have been marvellous to have him here when she was working on the Weresbane tomorrow.
She realized with surprise that she hadn't actually had the chance to give him back her notes for the potion since he had been Summoned on the thirteenth of February. It had been five weeks since then, and she hoped that didn't mean he thought she didn't trust him. Then she wondered why the thought bothered her so much. Because really, they'd barely been on speaking terms since then long enough for her to consider handing them over. It wasn't as though she was about to pass over her notes after he had snarled at her, belittled her, or attempted to manhandle her.
She sighed. At this rate, he'd be lucky to ever see her notes. Maybe once she left the school and they didn't actually have to have any contact with one another. Maybe she could mail them to him. She snorted. Why did her life have to be so muddled?
She wanted Severus to see what she'd done, to actually read the whole step-by-step process, not just the truncated bit that he had been given in order to grade her work. But she could not bring herself to take them to him right now, not for the life of her. He might regard that as some sort of peace offering after what had happened yesterday, and she had no intention of apologizing to him for what had happened—at least not unless he apologized first. He should have known better.
Once the two potions were completed and cooling, she refocused her attention on Viktor.
"There we are." Her smile was a little wry. "Can I trust that you're not going to want to spend lab time with me in the future?"
"I am happy to spend any time vith you, mila moya," Viktor negated politely. "It does not need to be full of talking. It is very … calming to vatch you vork. Peaceful. I like it."
"Thank you, Viktor." She was pretty sure that she had received more compliments from Viktor just now than she had from Severus in the six and a half years that she had known him. The thought was a little sobering, but she forced herself to put the thought out of her mind and smiled again at Viktor. "Proper tea?"
He agreed, and they retired to the common room where Winky was only too happy to bring them more tea than several sets of Hermione and Viktor could possibly eat. Fortunately, Draco and Harry returned from the library, and they were happy to consume some of the extra provender.
"How was your morning?" she asked them. "Did you get a lot of research done?"
Mentally, Harry stuck his tongue out at her, but Draco launched into a long and detailed—and entirely false, if Harry's mental expression was anything to go by—story about the book they had been hunting for, the problems with the Hogwarts cataloguing system, and their finally tracking the book down only to discover that it did not contain the information that they had been looking for.
"I'm very sorry," Hermione said with false sympathy. "What a wasted morning."
What were you actually doing? she asked Harry.
The Gryffindor smiled. Spent a few minutes in the library because Draco had to return some giant book he'd been reading for something or other, and then we went out for a walk on the grounds down by the lake.
That sounds more profitable by far. I'm glad you had the chance.
Harry nodded. It beats out the library any day of the week.
She got all ready for a mental protest but realized that Harry's opinion was unlikely to be swayed after years of these sorts of disagreements. Plus, she had to agree that while she often preferred the library, the thought of taking a walk by the lake with an agreeable Severus was very appealing. In fact, she'd definitely take it over a visit to the library every time it was offered to her, but it seemed doubtful that she would have to worry about her scholastic future as a result of such a resolution.
It was nearing lunchtime before they saw Viktor off, as he needed to check in with Ron and his Quidditch team. She was pleased to see that he was taking his job seriously and didn't seem to be terribly bored even though his life here couldn't possibly be as exciting as the one he had left in Bulgaria.
Between people like her, who could care less about his being a Quidditch star, and people like Ron, who genuinely admired his skill and really wanted to talk Quidditch, Viktor seemed to be content and not really miss the trials and joys of being the Bulgarian Seeker. She was certain that he'd be heading back there once this term was over, but it was nice to know that he wouldn't likely be miserable in the meantime.
Once he was gone, she eyed Harry and Draco disapprovingly.
"You really don't need to interfere in my life like that. I'm sure Viktor was bored out of his mind sitting there and watching me brew. It's just not very interesting for a non-brewer."
"I didn't notice him complaining," Harry said with a grin that Draco shared.
She rolled her eyes at the two of them. "He's too polite to complain to my face about being shut up in a room and having me ignore him for two hours. But you can be sure he's put it down on his list of things not to do again."
No matter what he'd said about it being relaxing. Although she was more used to Severus telling her whatever was on his mind even if it was unflattering, she'd encountered plenty of polite people, too.
Harry and Draco shook their heads.
"I bet if you invited him back tomorrow, he'd come," Harry pointed out.
She regarded them with amusement. "He's a good friend, and I'm not going to make him suffer through more of that. I don't want to hear that either of you have issued an invitation on my behalf, either, understood?"
When she didn't get an immediate response, her gaze took on a more glare-like quality, and the two of them finally nodded.
"All right, all right," Harry said in a conciliatory manner. "No need to get your knickers in a twist."
"Shall we brave the masses for lunch?" she asked.
Draco shrugged. "It can't be worse than this morning."
They headed up and found themselves once again seated next to Ron, who was gushing about the discussion he'd had with Viktor and his plans for the Quidditch team. Hermione had to wonder if he felt comfortable talking with Draco present because the Slytherin team was out of the running for the final or if he was so excited that he honestly hadn't noticed that the blond boy was there and listening. Draco, thankfully, appeared to be minding his tongue and didn't make any snide comments about what he could do with the information that Ron had just given him.
She'd really like their civil behaviour to last for at least a week.
The afternoon was spent doing the homework that had been neglected during the morning. She was working on projects that weren't due for weeks; despite the ribbing that she received from Harry, the fact remained that her life was very full at the moment, and she didn't want to risk falling behind if any of those other commitments suddenly took up more of her time than she had anticipated.
Because really, of course she was ahead; none of the other students were in the middle of brewing a complex potion ten days out of the month and spending an additional two with a houseful of werewolves.
The fact that she had tended to be well ahead on her work years before she had started the Weresbane just meant that she had good time management skills. She intended to stay in good shape for her N.E.W.T.s. The Weresbane was more important, ultimately, but if she could manage it all, she was darn well going to do so, and that meant staying on top of everything. Harry gave it up as a lost cause.
Dinner wasn't a horribly noisy affair, thankfully. Although students had been quizzing friends and House members all day, no one had suddenly discovered who the Pure Adults might have been. Given that no one from the Ministry through Voldemort had had any luck in finding them at the school, many of the students seemed now to genuinely believe that the Pure Adults had not come from within the castle walls.
It was awfully nice, from her point of view, to see the search fizzling before it had even begun. Hermione didn't think that she and Harry were likely to be exposed at this juncture even by a careful search, but there were more people than ever who now knew the truth, so there was no saying for certain.
In the evening, since they had not managed it in the morning, the three of them decided to have their own training session. She could see that both Harry and Draco were careful not to raise the possibility of Severus joining them, and she decided to simply appreciate their circumspection and not comment upon the obviousness with which they were avoiding the subject.
"There's more space in Room One," she pointed out when they looked ready to begin in the common room.
They looked shocked but exchanged glances and then trailed after her obediently without asking if she really thought that was a good idea.
Harry let out a soft huff of breath once they were in the room. Draco, at least, had managed not to let his surprise show. Instead, he matter-of-factly moved further into the room, wand in hand. When Harry stayed stuck at the threshold, he raised an eyebrow.
"Are you coming in, Harry, or are you going to gape like a fool at the door all evening?"
There were moments when she was very grateful to have Draco as a friend. Harry managed to get into motion, coming all the way into the room, although he continued to turn in circles taking it all in as though he had never seen it before. Draco was watching him with some amusement.
"That's very subtle, Harry," he said finally, "but do you think we could see about actually training?"
Harry finally stopped staring. "Oh, er, of course. It's just … a very nice room. I hadn't really noticed before," he ended rather lamely.
If he wasn't so darn cute, she'd have to smack him up the side of the head. It looked as though Draco were having much the same thought.
"I came here before I went back to the common room last night," Hermione explained. "The castle was very forgiving."
Harry nodded, although she wasn't entirely certain he really understood, and Draco just rolled his eyes and readied his wand.
"What are our teams today?" he asked.
"Let's make it all or nothing," she suggested. "Each of us trying to be the last one standing."
They didn't usually train in quite this manner, but she didn't particularly feel like having the two of them gang up against her, and she imagined that Draco and Harry felt the same way. They nodded in immediate agreement, anyway, and then the three of them got to work.
Two hours later, they'd each had a handful of victories using a variety of strategies. Harry had been taken in by Draco going down, seemingly badly injured; he'd been unable to prevent himself from going to make sure the other boy was all right. By chance or design, Harry and Draco had hit her shield at the same spot with two of their strongest spells, making it buckle under the onslaught; Harry had been able to Stun her before she'd erected another shield. Unconscious, she hadn't seen whether they kept fighting one another or shared a joint victory.
Taking Harry down had been difficult, as he was in very good form and utilising the entire room to stay away from them and let them fight one another as he waited for openings to fire at them when they were distracted. He'd finally made the tactical error of touching the wall, though, and she brought him down with the same type of ward that had got Severus last time.
When he'd been Ennervated, he'd made her and Draco promise never to tell Severus that he'd fallen for it, too.
It had been a good work out as well as being good-natured, and Hermione wondered why they couldn't repeat that sort of experience when Severus was in the room. When he was here, it always seemed to become a battle in earnest and there were losers and winners and gloating and what seemed to be serious attempts at injury. They all knew that they would be in life and death battle situations, but Hermione was certain that what she and Draco and Harry had just done had still been good training.
They all knew that in a battle they weren't simply going to be Stunned. Watching their friends find devious ways to get around their shielding meant that they had new techniques to keep an eye out for amongst their real opponents. She sighed. It seemed as though the problem lay more in Severus's nature than anything else, and yet she knew that he could be cordial when he wished.
They spent the remainder of the evening back in the common room. Hermione had Glamoured Solace's journal on warding and was continuing to read it while the boys cuddled on the couch and pretended to read. Probably a Potions text, given Harry's utter inattention to it. Since Draco had become Harry's boyfriend, she'd handed the responsibility of getting the Gryffindor through Potions over to the blond boy; it would be up to him to ensure that Harry actually retained the material at some point. Experience had indeed taught her that it was useless to try to teach Harry much of anything if he wasn't in a receptive mood, and she was pretty sure that Draco had learnt the same lesson.
It was nearing midnight when they decided to turn in. From the way the two boys had been glued to one another all day, Hermione knew that Draco would be spending another night in Harry's bed, and given how dismally her own love life was going right now, she didn't really mind if they hastened off to that bed and left her to wallow in peace. She was happy for them, she really was, but there was only so much cute coupleness she could take before she got a bit mopey about her own life.
She reminded herself that although the situation with Severus was not ... ideal, there were plenty of other things to be grateful for. Harry and Draco were happy. There was no chance that Voldemort could gain any power from them. Not only were the seventh-year Slytherins continuing to be well behaved, she was pretty sure that they were exerting an influence over the younger students, either by example or by actual control. Whatever the reason, the number of altercations in the hallways as well as the number of students caught out after curfew had diminished, and that could only be regarded as a good thing.
Those Slytherins who had joined the DA were integrating themselves rather quietly, although it would still be a stretch to say that they'd been assimilated; they tended to partner one another and congregate in a group. But they had been accepted; as Hermione had predicted, once it was clear that Ginny, Neville, and Luna weren't upset, the others had acquiesced without too much of a fuss.
Hermione really hoped that the majority of the Slytherins were sincere in their desire to get away from Voldemort. She didn't want to see a lot of lives wasted because they made the wrong choice. Harry was going to defeat Voldemort, Hermione believed that firmly, but it was important to the longevity of the wizarding race that they didn't decimate another generation winning the war; they needed to convince as many people as possible to choose the right side before it was too late.
The boys had been gone for perhaps half an hour when she was drawn to the Marauders' Map. Since she and Harry had their bracelets to alert them to strange presences in the castle, they didn't examine the Map itself with a lot of frequency unless they were looking for something specific.
By the third time Hermione had scanned the entire parchment, she knew exactly what she was looking for and exactly what she wasn't finding. Severus wasn't on the Map. Much as she didn't want to admit that she was looking for him, she knew she was.
Despite the many places he could be, she was nevertheless certain that there was only one place that he would be if he wasn't on the grounds. And no matter how upset she was with him, she couldn't bring herself not to care that he was at a Death Eater meeting.
Although she hadn't thought about it consciously, her instinctive perusal of the Map told her that she'd been worried. This morning, news had definitively reached Voldemort that the power of the Pure Adults was beyond his reach forever, and it was Severus whom he had tasked with finding the Pure Adults. It was Severus who had failed to prevent her from making the Wolfsbane last week. She had not heard of Severus being Summoned in the meantime, and if that was true, it would mean that he was now facing a very displeased power-hungry maniac.
Hermione wasn't nearly hard-hearted enough to want him to suffer for any of those reasons despite how horrible he could make her feel—especially since a fair portion of the reason for him being injured related directly back to her. She felt responsible, even if part of her knew that was nonsense.
There was nothing that anybody could do to fix this, so she wouldn't go to Harry and Draco for reassurance and comfort; she would let them have their enjoyable night while she gave in to the inevitable.
She Masked herself, cast warming charms, and made her way out to the gates. It was a vigil that she hated the necessity of. But if Severus could go, she could wait for him even if it meant that her stomach was tied up in knots and she spent the whole time imagining dreadful things happening.
She wondered why it was that she never encountered anyone else down here after Severus had been Summoned. If she were being brutally honest, she knew that there were no doubt plenty of Order members and supporters of the Light who really didn't care about Severus beyond his position as a spy, but she was not one of them. She didn't think that Albus was, either. Or Minerva. Or Hagrid. Or Draco. Or Harry—although that one often seemed to depend on how the older man was treating Hermione, but that was beside the point. Why was it just she who came out here? Was it Albus's doing? Was it to strengthen Severus's position as a spy by making it look as though none of them cared for Severus's well-being, just the job that he did?
Well, she would sacrifice his position in a heartbeat to keep him safe, and she wished that Albus felt the same way. The Slytherin had more than atoned for any past failings, and she was sure that no information he was bringing back was worth his life. Unfortunately, she wasn't the one calling the shots.
She ended up quietly pacing for a half hour before it occurred to her to transform. She could Mask herself in either form, and as a unicorn, she would at least be absorbing some light and hopefully growing a little calmer. Currently, she was very much on edge and wondering why Voldemort had to keep his Death Eaters so damn late when they all had other calls on their time. After all, it wasn't supposed to be known that they were Death Eaters, so they really shouldn't be out at all hours like this.
Of course, she didn't suppose that Voldemort was known for his consideration and thoughtfulness towards others.
Which left her waiting impatiently despite her unicorn form.
It was nearly three o'clock in the morning before three Death Eaters Apparated in front of the gates. Two were masked and unrecognizable, and they were supporting the unconscious third. There was some ill-natured joking about what would happen if no one came out and found Severus, but their orders had been to dump the man at the gate, so that was what they did.
Hermione listened to them Disapparate and gave them thirty seconds to ensure that they weren't coming back before she regained her human form, opened the gate, and hurried over to Severus. He was deeply unconscious, and a quick scan told her that he needed treatment immediately. She bandaged him up, cast Mobilicorpus, Masked him, and took him back into the castle through the dungeon entrance.
She broke through the wards on his quarters in four minutes flat—when stealth was not an issue and the man himself was unconscious practically in her arms, she was very motivated—and had him in his bedroom thirty seconds later, where she unMasked them both. She Vanished his bloody and torn clothing, cast a cleansing charm, and spelled nightclothes onto him. Pulling back the blankets, she settled him in the bed.
The Cruciatus potion was where she'd last seen it in the bathroom, and she grabbed a general pain potion, a Bruise Salve, a Burn Potion, and a potion that aided mending bones as well. She should probably be taking him to Poppy, she realized, but she was quite sure that the reason he had all these potions stocked in his loo was because he avoided going to Poppy as often as possible, so she was going to do the same on his behalf.
Returning to the bedroom, she considered Severus lying on the bed and then cast a low-grade Healing Sleep charm. Severus had been the one to teach it to her, and though he had not said explicitly, she had been under the impression that Poppy had taught it to him once upon a time. Children growing up in wartime learnt the strangest things.
There'd be no worry about him waking for at least twelve hours, now, which would ensure that he didn't get up before it was wise for his healing body to move. He'd no doubt be annoyed when he woke up on Sunday afternoon, but it would be ever so much better for his health.
She climbed into the bed with him to support him and ensure that he swallowed all the potions he needed. And then, grumbling to herself, she snuggled up next to him and tried to absorb those involuntary shudders that meant he had been, once again, subjected to the Cruciatus.
It felt especially weird to be assisting like this when he didn't even know that she was here, when he was in a Healing Sleep and had no control over what was happening, but she knew that he hadn't really been in better shape when he was conscious for the few minutes before the potion took effect on those previous occasions. This way, since she'd be leaving long before he would wake, she wouldn't be yelled at or attacked or whatever it was he was going to do to express his displeasure with her, never mind that she was in here carefully healing his battered body.
Lying cuddled up next to him, both of them fully clothed, she wished—yet again—that it wasn't because he was suffering from nerve damage. Why couldn't the two of them have the lovely sorts of experiences that Harry and Draco were having on a regular basis? Why did they only end up in bed when disasters were occurring?
She couldn't even say she'd take what she could get without feeling guilty because she was here right now because Severus had been badly tortured; if she got to choose, she'd have to prefer his being uninjured and there being no need for her to be here. What was really frustrating was the number of times she'd been forced to have that thought. She knew that Severus would probably kill her if she tried to talk Albus out of sending him back to Voldemort. Albus would probably spout some nonsense about the greater good, anyway.
Given that she had recently flipped out on Severus for trying to control an aspect of her life, she knew it was a piece of interference that she could not truly consider. But she still wanted to try. She wanted him to be safe.
She wasn't sure how she had ended up in this situation, wanting impossible things and loving someone even when he could be the stupidest, most arrogant, most annoying and hurtful man on the entire planet. But she couldn't simply turn off her feelings for him, and despite the fact that yesterday she had been angry enough to nearly do him harm inadvertently, here she was today, doing her best to put him back together.
She had to wonder what would have happened to him had she not been out there. Did Albus not understand the severity of the position he had put Severus in because she was always patching him up before Albus got to see him? But no, the headmaster had to have known at the end of her sixth year, at least, just how dangerous Severus's position had become. He still sent Severus, and it was only the once that she had been able to help him, so Albus had no excuses.
She knew, in the logical part of her brain, that Severus had theoretically chosen to take this risk, but she also knew that Severus's "choice" was really the result of a childhood mistake. He kept going back to those meetings, but Lily and James were still dead. Severus had spent years and years working for Albus and sabotaging Voldemort when he could. The debt that he felt he owed was all in his head where he would never believe that he had done enough. She wished with all her heart that he could forgive himself.
Perhaps that forgiveness could come once Voldemort was dead; this only strengthened her resolve to ensure that the madman was stopped. Solace's journals had begun to instil in her a hearty respect for real divination. It seemed more likely to her than it ever had that Voldemort had indeed chosen Harry and that it was by Harry's hand that Voldemort had to die. The prophecy didn't explicitly state that no other hands could be assisting, however, so Hermione intended to be there every step of the way to ensure that none of the people she loved were injured in the process.
Tomorrow, she intended to make her first attempt to see all of the school's wards. She needed to be sure that she could do what Solace had indicated was required before she declared to Harry, Albus, and all the others that she had a plan. For now, she would do what she could to make sure that Severus was in fit shape to teach and torment—both her and everyone else, sadly—come Monday morning.
She realized that Severus's shaking had stopped and he was lying quietly beside her. He was very warm, and she fought the languor that always seemed to creep over her when she was in bed with him like this; she wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep beside him. He was in a Healing Sleep, though, and she could not bring herself to steal any comfort.
Reluctantly, she rose, made sure that the quilt was covering him fully, and observed him for a moment. She watched the rise and fall of the material covering his chest as he breathed much more easily than he had earlier in the evening. She had done what she could, and now it was time to leave before she became positively maudlin. He was alive, he would be all right in a few hours, and that was what mattered.
Out in the sitting room, she found the set of papers that he'd clearly been in the midst of grading when he'd been Summoned. They were second- and third-year work, and she knew that he would probably be able to mark them when he woke up in the afternoon, but she didn't want to give him another reason to be upset with her. If she was forcing him to spend this time recuperating, the least she could do was get this work finished for him; it wasn't as though the grading would be a challenge.
Making herself tea, she set about to work her way through the scrolls armed with a quill charmed to mimic Severus's handwriting. She was not, perhaps, quite as harsh as he would have been, but given that she was passing herself off as him, it was the perfect opportunity for her to let her inner critic out; anything she would have wanted to say to these children but which she would have to bite her tongue over because it would have been "mean" and "inappropriate" for the Head Girl, the Head of Slytherin was perfectly free to say.
As she went on, she found that it was rather liberating, really, and she could see why he sometimes got a bit carried away with himself. He'd built a reputation that allowed him to speak his mind and which declared that his mind was a deeply critical and impatient one. Everybody expected him to be harsh, and if he was sometimes harder than even the most experienced student had anticipated, it was still on the anticipated end of the spectrum. It wasn't as though Filius had suddenly started calling them a bunch of idiotic, incompetent fools. She tried to maintain Severus's style and decided that although it probably wouldn't be healthy for her to insult people with quite the regularity he employed, being able to do it every once in a while felt rather cathartic.
Once that task was completed, she sternly refused to let herself snoop. He was already likely to be angry that she'd broken into his quarters and touched his ink, even if it had all been with good intentions.
Speaking of good intentions.
Fawkes, she said, rousing the phoenix. Severus will be unavailable until he wakes from my Healing Sleep this afternoon around three. Albus is not to bother him before then.
Understood. He's all right?
If she got started on an actual answer, it would turn into a rant that the phoenix did not deserve to have directed at him. Instead, she repeated, He'll be as healed as I can make him by three this afternoon.
I'm sorry, Girlicorne.
In his voice, there was the wealth of emotions which Albus overtly suppressed. Here was the grief that this was asked of Severus, that the man went out to Voldemort time and time again and came back bloodied and battered and leaving a portion of himself behind.
She was concerned in ways that no one else seemed to be that at some point he'd lose his whole self and there'd be nothing left when he came back. She cared so much about him, but there didn't seem to be anything that she could do about any of it.
While Harry had had a very difficult life, he still seemed to have better choices than Severus had ever had. No matter what Harry had been through, he'd still been able to find Draco and was somehow living a somewhat normal life. Severus, on the other hand, was vilified by their side and mistrusted by Voldemort's, and he was stuck constantly balancing between them without a safety net to catch him if he fell.
It was enough to drive her insane; she didn't know how he could stand it.
She found herself repeating her words yet again to Fawkes because she was so sorry it made her heart break. He'll be awake at three.
What else could she say? He could be Summoned back at any point, and she couldn't prevent him from going. Fawkes and even Albus could be as sorry as they liked, but Severus was still going to go when his Mark burned.
The most she could do was console herself a little with the knowledge that he would not have done well left outside and unconscious all night. Thanks to her, he was warm, dry, and healing, and he would have two fewer sets of papers to grade when he awoke. It had to be better than nothing.
Masking herself once more, she headed back into the hallway and carefully warded Severus's door. From the inside, it would open simply to his touch, and from the outside, there wasn't a person who could get in apart from her without a lot of work. He'd be able to fix the wards as he wished when he was better; this had seemed a safer option than trying to rebuild his wards. She knew he would not take it well if she left them such that he couldn't tell she had been through them in the first place.
It was now approaching five in the morning, and Hermione admitted that it would probably be wise to grab an hour or two of sleep before she faced the new day. She was on edge as it was.
She slept from half five until almost seven. After a brief stint in the loo, she emerged into the common room to find that Harry and Draco were up before her, seated on the couch with the fire crackling merrily in front of them. Ever since Harry had become a phoenix, he was especially happy to be near fire.
Their heads twisted round as they heard her emerge.
"Never thought I'd see the day," Draco said happily. "Sleepyhead."
Harry was looking at her through narrowed eyes as he asked perceptively, "When did you go to sleep?"
She offered him a slight smile as she walked over to that side of the room and sat in one of the armchairs. "Half five."
Draco's smile froze into place. "Half five?" he repeated. "Woman, are you out of your mind?"
"I don't sleep very much," she said simply.
"I know you don't sleep very much," he answered, sitting up to stare at her closely. "I've been spending time here for months. But that's ridiculous."
"It's been that way for a long time."
Draco looked to Harry, who nodded solemnly in confirmation, although she thought he was actually rather amused that she was suddenly getting the third degree from his boyfriend.
"So why is it you haven't keeled over from exhaustion yet?" Draco asked.
"Because this is as much sleep as I require."
Harry stepped in as Draco was opening his mouth for what looked to be another stupid question.
"Why were you up so late?"
"I was busy," she hedged.
"Busy with?" he asked more pointedly.
She sighed. "Yesterday, the Prophet reported that there were no more Pure Adults. Can you not think of anyone who'd be upset by that news?"
They were both silent for a moment.
"Is he all right?" Draco asked.
Hermione wondered if Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to ask.
"I've put him in a Healing Sleep. He'll be up by this afternoon."
"And what did he say," Harry demanded, anger clear on all his features, "when he found that despite what he did to you on Friday, you were still there to help him when he was hurt?"
"I'm sure he would have come up with something appropriate." Appropriately scathing, probably. "But he was unconscious when he was dumped at the gates, so I didn't get the chance to find out."
"So you've not spoken to him at all?" Harry asked, being all perceptive again. "He's going to wake up in the afternoon with no idea why he's not still unconscious outside?"
"What would you have me do?" she demanded. "Leave him out there? Wait until he woke?"
Harry let out his own sigh. "No, I don't suppose you'd do that. I just … wish it wasn't so difficult for you, that's all."
"Life is difficult," she answered flatly. "It could be worse."
Severus could be dead. He could have woken up while she was lying next to him and cursed her out of the room. Instead, he was alive, and she was still in one piece.
"It should be better," Harry said stubbornly.
Meet the Gryffindor Golden Boy, proponent of justice and happy endings for all.
"And I confess that I should like it if it were," she answered as gently as she was able. "But it's not, and there's no point getting into a muddle about it."
Draco rescued them from what looked to be a never-ending argument.
"Breakfast?" he said cheerfully. "How lovely. Let's head up, shall we?"
Hermione took her cue from him, and Harry was compelled to follow their lead or be left alone in the room.
Ron didn't make it to this meal until it was nearly over; there was no practice this morning, so he had wanted as many extra minutes of sleep as he could manage. Since this was Ron they were talking about, he also wasn't willing to miss a meal, so here he was at the last minute.
The Prophet had already been delivered, and since it wasn't a Quidditch morning, Ron was able to devote a little more of his attention to it now.
"Bit crazy about the Pure Adults just being gone all of a sudden now, isn't it?" he said as he masticated too much sausage and egg at once. "You'd think whoever it was would've got it over with when all this started. Why'd they wait until now?"
Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. Draco once again came to their rescue.
"But you might notice, Weasley, that the paper doesn't say how long it's been since they ceased to be Pure Adults. You may recall that when the news about the Pure Adults was first revealed, the Prophet noted that there was no way to tell how long the two people had been in that state. For all we know, it's the same now; they might have had sex when they read that first article back in November but the time delay means we aren't hearing about it until now."
This was pretty good for being a complete lie. Ron was even well-mannered enough to actually take this as a possible explanation rather than an aspersion on his intelligence for having suspected something else. Draco was getting much better at his tone when he was at the Gryffindor table. This was a relief to her and Harry as there was only so much damage control that they felt they could safely do. Ron and Draco could both be hot-headed and short-tempered, but so far, their minor miracle was continuing intact.
The more Hermione considered it, though, the more she decided it really was her duty to speak to Ron. If this was going to blow up in their faces, it needed to do so in a controlled manner, and that meant she couldn't risk him yelling at her in the middle of a corridor again. The truth about the Pure Adults was being revealed to more and more people in the Order and that meant it needed to be explained to him sooner rather than later.
Resolution made, she managed to convince Harry and Draco that she needed some alone time after the traumatic night she had had, and then she found Ron in the Gryffindor common room. Deciding that they needed complete privacy and a protected environment, she brought him to the Room of Requirement.
He was gazing at her with more perception than she had anticipated in his bright blue eyes. "I get the impression this is a discussion I'm not going to like."
The room was cozy, the chairs comfortable, but she didn't think the Room had much more in its arsenal—unless it released a Calming Draught in gaseous form—because Ron was absolutely right.
She gestured him into a chair and sat down as well as she tried to figure out where to start.
"If Harry knew I was here, he'd want to be here, too," she explained. "It's my decision to come here alone because I'd rather that if everything falls apart, it's just between you and me."
He frowned as he crossed his arms. "And is everything about to fall apart?"
"Probably," she answered honestly. "I let matters go on like this for a long time. Probably too long. But you see, since we weren't speaking at all, it wasn't exactly that I was omitting this topic especially."
If they'd been on speaking terms, if they'd seen him more than once in a blue moon, she thought it likely they would have told him or he would have figured it out a long time ago. Probably in January, at least, when it had come out to Draco and Severus and Albus.
Ron's face was troubled, but he tried to muster a grin to say, "You know you're only making me more anxious."
She nodded. "But I suspect this will be the only chance I have to explain myself."
"That bad, eh?" he asked, seeming to be bracing himself for the worst.
"That bad," she agreed.
His face settled into grim lines, the freckles standing out dark against his pale skin. "Just tell me."
She swallowed nervously. "It was my idea of a way to protect ourselves. We didn't tell anyone."
"Tell anyone what?" he asked roughly.
She spoke in a rush. "Harry and I have never had sex with one another."
Ron blinked at her, this clearly not having been what he was expecting. There was silence until the import of her words sank in, and then Ron's eyes flew to hers.
"What?" he demanded. "You have! You told me in the corridor!"
Hermione sighed. "You assumed in the corridor. To protect ourselves, we let the assumption stand."
"To protect yourselves from what?" he asked, ears beginning to get very red.
"To prevent anyone from finding out that we hadn't had sex—not with anyone."
Ron was out of his seat and yelling all of two seconds later. "The two of you are the Pure Adults? How dare you not say anything! How dare you use me like that!"
She rose, too, so that he wasn't towering over her quite so much. She struggled to keep an even tone, knowing that yelling back at him wouldn't help matters. "It wasn't me who wanted to have that conversation in the hallway. You made a scene, and we had to react accordingly."
"So, it's my fault, is it?" he snarled as he took a step closer to her.
"We made our own choices," she conceded, "but so did you."
"You kept it from me for months!" he accused angrily.
"We kept it from everyone," she corrected.
"I'm not everyone," he said belligerently.
"No, you're not," she agreed sadly. "But I decided we were safer if no one knew."
"Including one of your best friends."
She nodded.
He began to pace the room, whipping furiously back and forth for several long strides.
"I would have helped," he said finally, biting the words out.
"Would you have?" she asked, staring at him intently. "Or would you have tried to take care of the 'problem'?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, voice ugly as he turned to stare at her.
"Be honest," she admonished. "If you'd found out that I was a virgin, that I was a Pure Adult who would get all this power when I had sex for the first time, and who would give power to my partner, can you honestly tell me that all you would have done was help protect my secret?"
"Of course—" he started furiously.
"Ron," she said, "you wouldn't. You know you wouldn't have. You would have made all sorts of assumptions about why it was that I hadn't had sex yet."
He opened his mouth.
She cut him off. "Remember how you acted about the people you thought had to be virgins when we first found out?"
Some of the angry flush left his cheeks as he recalled those words.
"I didn't mean it," he said weakly.
"But you did," she said gently but implacably. "You might not have said it quite like that if you'd known it was the two of us, but that was your honest opinion. You assumed that it was two people who were undesirable enough not to get very many offers. The whole entire school was trying to find out the truth, was queuing up for that glory, and we couldn't risk that you'd be one of them."
His voice was dark with an edge of hurt behind it. "You didn't trust me."
"We didn't trust anyone," she tried to explain. "I know you might not be able to forgive me for that, but it was all I could think to do under the circumstances."
"Why are you telling me now, then?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. "What's changed?"
"You know what's changed. It hit the Prophet."
"I'm not the first person you're telling," he interpreted flatly.
"Albus interceded and others found out," she explained. That bit really hadn't been her fault. "I didn't want you to find out from someone else."
"You're afraid I'll make a scene," he said with a sneer.
She bit back her first comment, which was to say that she had good reason to be afraid of that, and said instead, "I wanted to be the one to tell you. You deserve that. I'm sorry it had to work out this way."
He turned his back on her. "Sure." The single word was full of anger.
"Ron," she protested, "you as good as called me a whore in the corridor for everyone to hear because you thought I'd had sex with Harry. You have an awful temper. We had to be very careful."
He swung back to face her. "Who else knows, then?"
She let out a breath slowly. "It was just the two of us until January. Then we went to rescue Draco from the werewolves."
His brow furrowed. "I thought that was a bunch of unicorns."
"It was," she said. "Unicorns who helped because I asked. So Draco knew, and Severus knew—because he was out there as well, trying to rescue Draco—and Albus knew when we came back. That was it."
He heard what she wasn't saying. "But there're more now."
She nodded. "Kingsley brought the news that there were no more Pure Adults. Albus told him." More or less. "We visited with Tonks and Remus that night, and they found out as well."
"But that's it?" he said. "Malfoy, Snape, Albus, Kingsley, Remus, and Tonks. And the last three didn't find out until you weren't Pure Adults anymore?"
She nodded again, reluctantly, knowing exactly where he was going with this. But this was why she'd brought him here. Soundproofed walls.
"But—but you're not Pure Adults anymore," he said with confusion.
"No," she agreed.
"That means—" He stared at her, stunned. "You and Snape?"
She let out a huff of breath at how disgusted he sounded, made herself speak normally. "You worked it out more quickly than Remus or Tonks."
His face was headed straight towards brick red. "Snape? You had sex with Snape?"
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to remind herself why blowing up at him would not be beneficial to their relationship.
And it wasn't as though anyone else had reacted much better. Well, Tonks and Kingsley had been all right, but it seemed like the better she knew the person, the worse they reacted.
"Yes."
Ron flung himself at the door, but she froze him and repeated the warning which she had issued to Remus and Tonks.
"I understand if you're angry with me." The words came out clipped but level. "I understand if you won't speak to me again. But it's really none of your business whom I have sex with. Severus will not learn that you know as a result of anything you say or do, or you will suffer the consequences. I am sure I do not need to remind you of what happened to Marietta Edgecombe."
She released him. He shot her a venomous look and fled, slamming the door behind him.