Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either...just for fun.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to EverMystique and DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this and helping me clean up my many mistakes, and WriterMerrin for giving it polish. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know.

Thank you, Jay, for the beautiful banner. I absolutely love it!

---

Hermione and her parents were driving home in the late afternoon after spending the weekend at the shore. But as they drove inland and away from the coast, the heat became even more oppressive.

"George, I really don't want to cook," Mrs. Granger said, turning to look at her husband. Hermione leaned around her mum's seat to check the onboard temperature gauge. It read a stifling twenty-four degrees Celsius...or seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit according to the converter next to it for the Yanks. And the forecast had said warm, sunny, and rather dry... I'd call this hot. Either way, she was very glad that her parents had opted to escape the heat for the coast, and it had been fun spending time with Aunt Eileen, Uncle Rick, and her cousins Leah and Andy, even if they were only four and seven.

"Jean, I need to check in with the practice and see if Mrs. Whelton rescheduled her bridge," Mr. Granger replied, turning the car onto their street, Canterbury Crescent.

Hermione smiled, knowing that meant she'd have time to rinse off in the shower and change her clothes before they'd leave for Ralston's on Stockwell Road. However, her smile faded when they pulled up into the drive, and she saw a grey and white tabby sitting primly on the walk. "Mum, Dad, something's up...Professor McGonagall is here," she warned her parents, quickly drawing her wand from her beach tote.

"Are you sure?" her dad asked, looking in the rearview mirror at her.

But Hermione was already scrambling from the car. When she approached the cat, Professor McGonagall turned and led her to the front door before transforming. Hermione was shocked to see her professor in a crisp white blouse, pleated skirt and sensible shoes as if dressed for an office. "Miss Granger, go inform your parents that Professor Dumbledore is inside, then come inside quickly and pack. We haven't much time."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, hearing the soft flaps of her mother's sandals behind her.

"Nothing that alarming, but you need to be taken to safety," the witch said cryptically.

"Nothing alarming? I don't understand," Mr. Granger asked upon seeing his wife being ushered into his own house by the stern professor.

"Not on the street," McGonagall insisted, helping Mr. Granger with a bag and following the younger woman inside. "I'm afraid that Miss Granger has been spotted at the Brixton Hill Library and on Brixton Road. Unfortunately, we have no idea if she's a target, but our sources say that it might be likely. So, as a precaution, we need to have Miss Granger join her friends in a safer location until we can assess the situation."

"But it's only the fourteenth of July!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, clearly struggling with the information.

"What about my parents?" Hermione asked, seeing Professor Dumbledore walk into the hall from the dining room.

"That is why I am here, Miss Granger, to see to their safety. Nice to see you; I hope your summer holiday has been a pleasant one so far?"

"But she's only been here two weeks!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed.

"Miss Granger, please go pack quickly," Professor McGonagall said, "while Albus and I explain the situation to your parents."

Hermione wanted very much to hear the explanation too, but she was accustomed to following the witch's instructions. She had spent the last four days taking the tube to Brixton to visit Louise Duke while her parents had been at work. Louise Duke was like a sister to Hermione, since Dr. Duke and his wife were her parents' best friends, as well as Dr. Duke having been a partner in her parents' practice since before Hermione was born. But if a Death Eater had seen Louise and me...

Hermione shuddered at the thought as she ran upstairs and began to quickly lay everything she'd need at school on the bed. She double-checked everything, grabbing anything else she might need and all her books. Then she used her wand to pack everything like Mrs. Weasley had taught her last summer. With a double flick of her wand, all of her clothing folded itself neatly. She swished her wand, and everything floated into her trunk and situated itself inside, although not as nicely as Mrs. Weasley had done, but well enough. Hermione put Crooks' in his carrier and then slowly scanned her room for any last-minute items she'd forgotten. Satisfied, she pulled her new trainers from under the bed and tucked them into her trunk as well.

Her mum wasn't any happier when Hermione finally ambled down the stairs, floating her trunk and Crookshanks carrier before her. "Ready."

She hugged her dad, promising to be careful and to mind her professors, and then hugged her mum. Mrs. Granger held her as if she'd never see her again, which made a lump form in Hermione's throat. "Mum, I'll be fine. I'm sure it's only a precaution. Tell Louise that I had to... I dunno, go stay with grandma for the summer or something so she doesn't worry. Okay?"

Mrs. Granger cupped Hermione's face with her hand and stared at Hermione as if memorizing her face. "I will. Write me every week, and be sure to wear a hat when it gets cold. Did you pack the scarf and gloves your grandmother knitted you?" Hermione nodded. "And your new boots, the new coat, you have your floss..."

"Jean, we have access to an owl," Mr. Granger said, walking over and placing an arm about his wife's shoulders. "She'll be fine."

She turned to Professor Dumbledore and he smiled at her. "Everything will be fine, Miss Granger. Do say hello to Mr. Weasley for me."

"Of course, Headmaster," Hermione replied.

Professor McGonagall transfigured Hermione's trunk into a sizable handbag and nodded for her to go. Hermione quickly embraced her parents one more time and followed her professor out of the door. Surprisingly, the professor walked up to a man leaning against a British Mini at the curb. "Put your things in the car, Miss Granger, and be quick."

The man greeted her as he picked up Crooks' carrier and placed him in the back. When Hermione got in, she noticed Professor McGonagall had once again transformed and was curled up on the seat next to the carrier. The man, Gregory, turned out to be Professor McGonagall's nephew and apparently was familiar with driving, although he apparently wasn't at all concerned with traffic signs. The car seemed to magically and effortlessly zip through the traffic, even across intersections against a red light, never hitting anything...or anyone...as they sped along.

By the time they'd reached London, Hermione was a bit nauseous.

Gregory pulled onto a respectable-looking street of lovely Georgian terraced houses and pulled up to the curb. "You're here."

"Where are we?" she asked, trying to take in her surroundings.

"London Borough of Wandsworth," Gregory said as he opened up her door. He made the seat fold forward and pulled out Crooks' carrier, handing it to Hermione. "Aunt Min, I'll be by tomorrow. But I don't think I'll have anything new to add."

"That's quite all right, Gregory; it will be nice to see you regardless." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and hurried around to the other side of the car. "Hermione, please read this note carefully, memorize it and give it back," Professor McGonagall said as she handed Hermione a slip of parchment.

It was not in the professor's handwriting, although it was familiar to her. Hermione read the note. The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. No sooner than she'd read the address twice, a large, old-styled terraced house seemed to stretch out of the crack between two of the more modern-looking houses, numbers eleven and thirteen, in front of her.

"Shall we then? It's not good to be loitering on the pavement," her professor advised, walking purposefully to the door.

Hermione followed, a bit disconcerted that the old battered door to the house didn't have a latch or a key entry of any kind, just a twisted silver snake knocker and a doorbell.

Professor McGonagall knocked twice and waited. Nothing happened. "I hate doing this, but..." She pressed the doorbell, and a loud clanging noise came from inside, followed by the screeching of an old lady. "I think we might be a bit early."

The door opened, and they walked into a long hall with gas lamps and a very dusty, large chandelier overhead that, at one time, might have been an elegant grand entry. Professor McGonagall led Hermione down the hall. She peered into an unkempt dining room on her left, then stopped in front of a large door just past a grand staircase and returned Hermione's trunk to its original size and shape. Hermione was standing in the entry of a house that would be the perfect setting for any horror movie, wondering why on earth her professor would think this place safe.

"Wait here and I'll go find Molly," Professor McGonagall said, making Hermione suddenly feel bereft of protection.

She was about to pull out her wand when Mrs. Weasley exited from a door at the far end of the entry hall, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Hermione, how are you, sweetie? Good to have you. Ron is upstairs with Fred and George, of course, and Ginny is in the room off the first landing. Follow me."

With a flick of her wand, Hermione's trunk floated up the stairs ahead of the motherly witch. Hermione grabbed Crooks' carrier and followed her, trying to avoid looking at the heads of what were probably the former house-elves of the family, which had been gruesomely mounted on the wall, as she passed.

"The drawing room is on the right, a sitting room we've converted into a bedroom for you girls and a bathroom," she said, opening up the door. It was a spacious room with windows that looked out back onto a park of some sort. "Oh, well, Ginny might be in the bath. She'll show you around when she's done. I have to finish the roast, so go ahead and unpack."

"But my parents? If I was in danger, won't they be too?" Hermione asked as Mrs. Weasley set the trunk on the floor.

"No, dear, it's a precaution. You were spotted, and word got back to You-Know-Who that you were living in Brixton. Professor Dumbledore thought it prudent to have you brought here," Mrs. Weasley stated calmly.

Hermione stood in the hall, grasping Crooks' carrier with both hands. "But the Dukes! They're in Brixton...they'll be..."

"Fine," Mrs. Weasley tried to assure her, urging her into the room with a gentle shove. "They will be on vacation for a while until the Death Eater's realize you don't live there."

Hermione absentmindedly set down the carrier on a chair. She was anxious, considering she had no idea what protections were being set up for her parents. "Dr. Duke is a partner in the practice...it's an easy connection to make."

"Arthur is already handling that, Hermione. It's all being taken care of," Mrs. Weasley tried to reassure her, but she was still beside herself with worry. "Now rest up a bit; dinner is in half an hour."

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding."

Hermione turned around, surprised to see Sirius Black standing in the doorway. "Hello, Hermione. Snivellus told us that you were spotted and that Antonin Dolohov and Bellatrix Lestrange were going to attack your house in Brixton. But then, Ron said you don't live there, so I'm sure it's a false call."

His nonchalance really irked her. "But I have friends in Brixton!"

"So you were there?" he asked, still smiling at her.

"Yes," she snapped, wanting to wipe that arrogant smile off his face. "Louise and I have been friends for ages. If she's hurt because of me..."

His smile faded, and Mrs. Weasley placed an arm across her shoulders. "Hermione, Arthur deals with this sort of thing all the time, dear, nothing to worry. He's sending them on vacation for a while in a house owned by a friend. They will be perfectly safe," she explained, giving her a squeeze for reassurance. "And Professor Dumbledore is increasing the wards on your parents home, car, and office. Please be assured, it's all being taken care of."

Sirius' smile returned. "Besides, it's you they were after, not your parents, so it's a good thing to have you here with us, tucked away safe."

"Thank you," she replied coolly. "But it's because I'm friends with Harry, isn't it? To get me in a fix to draw him out or something."

"See, sharp as a whip...nothing gets by you. Trust Dumbledore, Hermione; he'll see they're all right. Besides, they are not the apparent target...you were. Otherwise, they'd have attacked the... Dirks?"

"Dukes," she corrected him curtly, releasing Crookshanks from his carrier.

"Right, their house. But you're right. They thought if they abducted you, then they could draw Harry out. Besides, wouldn't you rather be here where all the excitement is in dreary old London?" Sirius said with a twinge of sarcasm, taking a step forward.

Hermione whirled about to face him. "I'd rather be with my parents. I haven't seen them in months, and I was whisked away without any information...to this house that reminds me of a horror movie. I fully expect some homicidal murderer to accost me in the hall."

"Good thing you're right wicked with a wand, then isn't it?" he said as if trying to be charming.

Hermione turned her back on him. "Please go, I want to change." It was an excuse, but she didn't want any more adults telling her things were all right. If it were all right, she wouldn't have been whisked away to this nightmarish home.

Ginny entered and plopped down on one of the beds. "Hermione, why were you being so rude to Sirius?"

"I-I'm just..." She walked over to hug her friend. "I just wish Professor McGonagall or your mum would've given me a straight answer. I didn't mean to take it out on Sirius or your mum... I'll apologize later."

"I know exactly how you feel...it was the same for us; one day Professor Dumbledore showed up, and the next thing we knew, Mum and Dad moved the family here. No one says anything whenever they think Ron, Fred, George, or I are within earshot. Get used to it. So, welcome to the mysterious can't-tell-you-anything-because-you're-a-kid Order of the Phoenix," Ginny scoffed, making Hermione laugh despite herself. "We're to keep away from the drapes for now...they have doxies. And stay away from the Floo...I think there's a ghoul in there. Mr. Moody said he'd sort it out tonight. How about I show you around?"

Hermione followed Ginny as she left the room and climbed the stairs to the second floor. "Did Mum point out the drawing room? It's dingy and the drapes have doxies in there, too, so you've been warned. I just know we'll have the pleasure of getting rid of them."

From the landing on the second floor, Hermione stopped to look down over the banister. From this vantage, she had a clear view of the entrance hall.

"Ron's room is in here," Ginny continued as she walked on, "and that's the master suite...except Sirius hates the room. He's still using his old bedroom on the fourth floor."

"This was Sirius Black's home?" Hermione asked as she hurried after Ginny. It was like nothing she'd imagined his house would be.

"Yes, it's his house. He's allowing Professor Dumbledore to use it for the headquarters because it's so close to everything...only twenty minutes to King's Cross." Ginny turned on her heel and climbed the stairs, taking two at a time. She stopped on the third floor landing. "This floor has three bedrooms: that's where Fred and George are; Professor Lupin uses this one when he's here...which isn't often actually...and Mum and Dad use that one." Ginny continued up the stairs as she rattled on. "The topmost landing has only two doors. That's where Sirius' room is and the bedroom that belonged to his brother, Regulus. There's also a pull-down that leads to the attic."

The house was huge, in Hermione's opinion. Judging by the length of the stairs, every room must have vaulted ceilings.

Ginny reached the fourth floor and hissed, "Comesss downss," making the trap door in the ceiling open and a slanted stepladder appear.

Hermione followed Ginny up the ladder as she disappeared from view, wondering what was so interesting about the attic.

Ginny was kneeling down, waiting for her. "Fred and George are cleaning up the attic, sorting out all the boxes and stuff with Sirius so they can keep Buckbeak up here. Oh, just so you know, we each have to clean the rooms we're in...which means you and I are cleaning up that sitting room."

"Oi, Hermione, come to help?" Fred called from the far end of the attic.

"Nope, just showing her around," Ginny shouted back.

George backed out, stood up, and handed a box to Fred, who was standing in the middle so he didn't have to stoop under the slanted ceiling. "Oh, well, then we get to keep all the treasure for ourselves, eh, Fred?"

'Right," Ginny said, dragging Hermione away. "Like they could; all that belongs to Sirius."

As soon as Hermione stepped foot on the carpet in the corridor, the ladder magically receded.

Ginny bounded down the stairs with Hermione in tow and turned. "That door, Mum calls it a parlor, but the rest of us call it the library. Sirius already warned us that we're not allowed in there...so now you've been warned. There are loads of Dark Arts tomes that have to be sorted, doxies in the drapes, chizpurfles and whiteflurries... and there was something revolting that had been spilled on the rug. Anyway, we're going to have to do this room soon so the chizpurfles and whiteflurries don't spread throughout the house now that it's occupied. Dumbledore has some kind of seal on it for now."

The other room was the dining room, which again had the appearance of having been a very elegant and ornate room once, but was thick with dust and neglect. "And everyone is helping clean up the kitchen today...even Tonks. Mum hates a dirty kitchen." Ginny led Hermione back to their room. After an hour, Mrs. Weasley came to ask the girls to help her in the kitchen.

The room was huge, with a large fireplace at the far end. Ginny led Hermione over to the pantry, just off the cooking area. It was large enough for two people to stand in comfortably. "Our job is to clean this up. Here's a scrubbing brush," Ginny said, handing it to her. "When we're done in here...we get to clean the floor out there."

"Wonderful," Hermione said, getting to work.

By lunch, Hermione's back hurt. When she came down from washing her hands, the only seat available was between Ron and Sirius. Hermione kept her attention toward Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny all through lunch, then got up and left before pudding, claiming that she needed to write a letter to Harry.

She'd just started her letter when Mr. Weasley poked his head around the door. "Hermione, a moment?" he asked.

She looked up. "Sure."

He stepped in and closed the door. "I feel I must warn you that due to the circumstances, it's imperative that any letter you write has to be approved before you can send it."

"Why?" she asked, in alarm. "Harry will want to know..."

"He can't. Not right now," he stated firmly. "We are in a crucial stage in the war, and because you're here, you could become, er... privileged to know things that cannot be divulged. Do you understand?"

"But he'll want to know where I am," she said, trying to understand his request for things to be kept secret, but also knowing Harry would want to know.

"The house is protected by charms that would make that impossible, I'm afraid. And anything you tell him that could divulge what's happening could cost someone their life."

Hermione nodded, finally comprehending his concern. "All right, what can I say?"

"Only that you're having a nice summer," he answered before turning to go. "Show your letter to Molly, and she'll post it for you."

Hermione sighed and started writing, knowing that Harry wouldn't like being kept in the dark.

---

Hermione and Ginny were sent up to dust and oil the antique wood furniture in the dining room whenever there was a meeting in the kitchen. Since the furniture had been under sheets and in good shape, the job turned out to be a fast one. Mrs. Weasley had tried cleaning the drapes with her wand, but one section had crumbled in her hand. And the grayish-mustard wall silks looked hopeless to Hermione without a proper steam cleaner.

"There is a spare set in a trunk in the attic," Sirius had stated. "Mum used them for Christmas and special holidays. I'll go get them."

"Later," Mrs. Weasley had said, "after we put the room to straights."

Mr. Moody had arrived to check the formal sideboard dresser for Boggarts, declaring it empty, and Mr. Weasley had managed to fix the latches on the twin bow-front corner cupboards. Mrs. Weasley and Ron hung the red velvet curtains, and she even managed to clean the old silk walls, but they still remained a dull mustard color. So, by Hermione's third day, the dining room was at least habitable.

When Dumbledore showed up as the clock struck half past twelve, Mrs. Weasley once again shooed Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny out of the kitchen. "Buf, Mum, I'm noff done," Ron bemoaned, his mouth still full of roast beef sandwich.

"Then take your plate upstairs," she admonished him, waving them on with her hands. "Off you go."

"Miss Granger, a moment?" Dumbledore asked just as she passed him.

Hermione stopped and turned around. "Of course, sir," she replied perfunctorily out of habit.

"I think it's time to sort out the parlor before the infestation spreads, and I would like you to lend a hand. I'll need someone who can follow exact instructions," he said kindly.

"Sir, I'd love to help you sort out the parlor," Hermione said, beaming up at him.

Dumbledore shook his head, making his long beard sway. "No, my dear, not me; I haven't the time. I'll have someone come by to do it soon...maybe see if he has the time today. Now, you must go so I may speak to Molly and Arthur in private."

"Of course, sir. Good day," she said and hurried after her friends.

Hermione grabbed a book off the coffee table she and Ginny had placed by her bed. Ron, who was sitting closest to her at the sideboard desk, looked up when Hermione turned for the door. "Whaff?"

"I just want some time to read without watching you stuff your face," Hermione said with a chuckle, holding up the book. "You know, just me and Herbert Wieddleman."

He rolled his eyes at her as she left. The only option for peace and quiet was the dining room. She was very happily engrossed in the theories of Professor Wieddleman when she felt a presence. She turned her head, surprised to see Professor Snape standing casually in the doorway. "You're rather early for dinner," she said, not sure why she'd said that at all. He was obviously not here to eat. Mrs. Weasley was anything if not absolutely punctual when it came to meal times.

"I am here to give a report, Miss Granger," he answered curtly. "It's you who is apparently waiting to eat."

She set down her book and turned to face him. "Er, no, actually I'm in here because the drawing room is currently off limits, and the library hasn't been checked yet for dangerous tomes. Professor Dumbledore said that he was going to have someone come today to start checking them and I was to lend a hand."

"You?" he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Yes, me," she replied, smiling. "I think Professor, er, Mr. Moody said he'd be here about two o'clock."

"I seriously doubt that the Headmaster will ask Alastor Moody to do it," he stated, walking away.

She got up and hurried after him, and Severus turned around. "Yes?" he drawled out slowly. "Was there something else, perhaps? Or may I go to the meeting now?"

She ignored his sarcastic tone. "You're in the Order?"

"Of course I am. Why else would I be here for the meeting?" he said drolly, crossing his arms.

Once again she felt off-footed. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know you were. No one has said who all the members are."

"And no one will," he stated. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Later, Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore entered the dining room, with Severus in tow. "Miss Granger, I'd appreciate it if you'd assist Professor Snape in cataloguing the books of the Black family library."

"Absolutely, sir, I'd be delighted to help him," Hermione replied, genuinely happy to be asked.

Severus grunted.

Dumbledore turned towards him, smiling, completely unaffected by his sour expression. "See, Severus, she's amiable to the idea. Any books that you deem unfit or dangerous should be separated from the rest of the books and a ward set on the shelves."

"Headmaster, wouldn't it be prudent to remove the books?" Severus asked, staring at Hermione.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, given our current circumstances I think it best to have them here, as a reference if necessary. A thorough cataloguing would be enough, and some reorganization is in order."

Severus tilted his head and a crease deepened between his brows. "But if you're going to have children in this house...especially Miss Granger and her friends...their insatiable curiosity..."

"Which is why I wanted Miss Granger working on this project with you, Severus, so she can know which books are too dangerous for her to handle. We can always put the Quidditch books by the windows and the Dark Arts tomes on the wall behind the desk," Dumbledore suggested with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm sure you and she can work out a suitable arrangement."

Severus turned away, his robes billowing behind him as he left the room. However, he didn't return the next day or the one after that.

Instead, Mrs. Weasley had kept them busy scrubbing every inch of the kitchen. When she'd needed to cook or there was a meeting, she'd shoved them out to go clean their bedrooms. Bill had shown up on Tuesday and Wednesday to help Ginny and Hermione de-doxify the drapes without getting bitten.

At the start of Hermione's second week in the house, Mrs. Weasley had assigned them to clean up the bathrooms in pairs. She and Ginny had been assigned the one off the first landing, and while it had been a mess, it hadn't been too bad, only taking a day to scrub clean.

On Wednesday, Dumbledore knocked on the door, making the girls turn their heads from their position of scrubbing their bedroom floor. "Miss Granger, if I may, would you come with me please. Oh, and if you have your wand, please leave it in your room."

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied as she dropped her scrubbing brush in the bucket and rose to follow him. "I don't have my wand on me, sir."

Professor Dumbledore only nodded in acknowledgment and indicated she follow him down the hall to the library where Professor Snape stood leaning against the wall in a red coverall.

He handed her a similar coverall as she approached. "Put this on, Miss Granger," he said and crossed his arms.

"You and Professor Snape will be sorting out the parlor today," Dumbledore told her as she slipped into the hooded coverall. "Severus, once the infestation is eliminated, be sure to give Miss Granger the potion."

"Of course, Headmaster," Professor Snape replied in a bored tone.

Hermione looked up as soon as she'd secured the last snap.

"It's good you've braided your hair. It will need to be tucked into your hood. The Headmaster will be adding a shield for your face before we enter the room," Professor Snape informed her. "Have you ever read anything on chizpurfles and whiteflurries?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, ready to tell him what she knew, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"I'm sure that you know how dangerous they are."

Professor Snape picked up a bee smoker. "We will be dusting the room with this insecticide. Heavily smoke all the books, rugs, pillows, cushions, rug...every surface in the room. Is that understood? We must be thorough," he instructed.

Hermione nodded. She now reasoned that was why the coveralls were red...black chizpurfles and the white whiteflurries would both show up easily as tiny specks on the bright red.

"Good," Professor Snape said, picking up the other smoker. "Pull your hood up."

She complied, making sure her hair was tucked inside, and put on the protective gloves, watching them magically seal closed to her sleeves.

"Do not remove your gloves or open your coverall at any time," Professor Snape stated flatly, handing her one of the smokers.

She shook her head. "No, sir, or they will get inside my protective barrier and infest me. I'd hate to have to shave my entire body and be sprayed down with the insecticide."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Now hold perfectly still, Severus," Dumbledore said with an amused smile. He pointed his wand at Severus' face and then hers. She felt a layer of something she couldn't see settle on her. It felt not unlike cellophane, but she could breathe easily enough, only all sounds were now muffled.

"Now, keep your mouth closed and follow me," Professor Snape said, his voice sounding more like a murmur to her.

She knew that she'd have to really pay attention to him in case he gave her any instructions so she'd do things right. They entered the room and the door closed behind them. Hermione looked around the room in awe, wondering where to start. Except for the windows, a huge portrait of some surly wizard and one of a prim looking witch, all the walls were lined with bookshelves stacked full of books. In the center of the room was a seating area, to the right a large desk and to the left, a baby grand piano stood by the windows and two wingback chairs in opposite corners. In Hermione's opinion, the room couldn't be more perfect...minus the aforementioned infestation.

Professor Snape indicated that she should start on the right side of the room, and he started on the left. The smoke had a sulfuric, pine smell and left the taste of lemons and pepper in her mouth.

At one point, she felt him touch her shoulder as he ran the fog from his smoker over her coverall. She turned to face him, noting that he was covered with what looked like white and black dust. She motioned to him and began to do the same for him as well.

At noon, they stood together in silence outside the door as they ate, then returned to work. They continued working until the light began to fade. At the end of the day, every inch of the room was coated in a thick layer of grayish-purple dust.

Professor Snape placed a hand on her arm and said, "We have to stop." They carried their smokers to the door, and he knocked.

Dumbledore opened the door and encased them in another shield as the door closed behind them. She felt a rush, not unlike the feel of flowing water, swirl around her, then vanish. Hermione stood, looking at her hands as Professor Snape pulled off his coverall. "Take it off, Miss Granger, and shove it in that bucket," he instructed her, indicating an old-fashioned ash bucket that had been placed by the door.

Hermione did as she was told. He handed her two small vials. "Take this one now and the blue before bed. The dust will have to sit for eight days at the least."

"Gestation is six to seven days, I know," she replied with a nod as she followed Professor Snape to the entry. "Will you be back then?"

He turned and smirked at her. "No. Goodnight, Miss Granger."

"Good night, sir," she replied.

---

Hermione was beginning to have a great deal of compassion for house-elves. Mrs. Weasley must have thought that idle hands led to mischief, because she was a stern taskmaster when it came to cleaning. Kreacher, as far as she could tell, hardly did anything but move about the house mumbling to himself. It was pitiful. Not only that, but Sirius seemed to actually despise the creature, shouting at him and calling him vile all the time. Hermione tried numerous times to get them to understand that Kreacher needed to be shown respect...but so far, only Ginny listened to her.

Moreover, Hermione hated having to show Mr. Weasley or Mr. Moody her letters to her parents and friends, especially any letter to Harry. Worse, she was forbidden to write to Viktor. No matter what persuasive argument she tried, none of the adults would relent. She just knew that Harry was going bonkers without word of what was going on, and the platitudes in her letters to everyone felt like lies to her.

The good thing was that as long as she and Ginny were cleaning with Mrs. Weasley, Sirius Black was generally somewhere else. He occasionally left, scouting for something in his canine form. For what Hermione had no idea as she wasn't allowed near the kitchen during the meetings, but at least he was leaving her alone. Professor Lupin came and went, only using the bedroom once since she'd been there.

The next morning, Professor Snape came to get Hermione at breakfast, carrying, of all things, two vacuum cleaners. Hermione followed him up to the door of the parlor, and they put on their coveralls.

"I assume you know how to work one of these?" Professor Snape asked, indicating the vacuum cleaners on the floor. He continued without giving her time to reply. "You are going to use this to clean up all the dust from the room. The vacuum bag is charmed to accommodate all of it, so you don't need to worry about changing the bag. There is an attachment to use on the bookshelves I charmed myself." He took the attachment with a row of bristles off and showed it to her. "This is charmed to fit in the spaces between the books and the shelves. You can also use it on the furniture cushions and pillows. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor, perfectly," she replied.

"Her...Miss Granger, it's unlikely that any of the insects are alive. The dust should have dried up all the eggs. However, if any have survived, they will be attracted to you just like before."

"And I should just vacuum them off us," she replied with a nod.

"Very good, Miss Granger. Now if you're ready," Dumbledore said with an approving nod. Once again, Dumbledore cast the shield on them, and they entered the room.

Hermione looked about the room and decided to work from the top down as much as possible. Professor Snape worked on the drapes while Hermione climbed the ladder, vacuuming every shelf of the library.

At noon, they were interrupted by a loud pounding on the door, followed by Ron's voice, shouting, "Mum said you have to eat lunch."

Hermione and Professor Snape ate quickly, standing outside the parlor door in Mr. Moody's protective shield, and then reentered the room to continue working, her on the bottom shelves and he on the piano.

He tapped her shoulder as she finished vacuuming the last chair cushion. "We're done for now, Miss Granger," he said, indicating the door with a subtle tilt of his head.

Alastor Moody checked them for any remains of the insects on their persons. "I don't see any of them. I don't believe that there are any more insects to be concerned about," he said gruffly.

Professor Snape nodded. "I concur. I didn't see any indication of the pests inside." He handed Hermione two vials, a bottle and a bar of homemade soap. "Take the potions again and use my soap and shampoo. You and Mr. Weasley can vacuum up all the remaining fumigation dust. Be sure to put the vacuum bags in the ash buckets. Do not touch any of the books until they are properly cleaned with the vacuum attachment. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," she replied. "Thank you."

"I'll be on hand when they're in the room," Moody replied, his face contorted into a grotesque smile.

Hermione shoved the vacuum cleaner bag and her coveralls into the ash bucket, thanked Professor Snape and Mr. Moody, and hurried off to take a long hot shower.

---

Ginny sat at the desk, logging in the books Severus placed into a wooden crate. There were five piles of books on the floor behind her, ones that Severus considered benign enough to remain in the library, but would be placed on the wall behind the desk and secured. The ones he placed in the crates were ones that were dangerous for a personal collection or cursed.

Hermione was carefully wiping the last remains of the dust from the books that he'd deemed safe enough and setting them back on the shelves.

Sirius checked over the duplicate copies of old schoolbooks stacked on the coffee table. "These the ones that are going to the Hogwarts' library as a donation from the Black family estate?" he asked, picking up two of the books, checking the titles of the books in a box. "These are Great Aunt Cassiopeia's school books. No point in keeping them since I have Grandfather Pollux's and Reg's."

"Hogwarts already has sufficient copies of the old school texts," Professor Snape stated, casting a complicated series of spells on a rather defiant book.

"Trouble with the book, Snivellus?" Sirius taunted.

Severus managed to get the book under control and placed it in the crate. "Since you're incapable of handling your own family's Dark tomes, it has fallen on me to deal with them, Black," he replied curtly. "Take those books and go."

"Sirius, if I have need of you, I can always send a message to you," Hermione said, hoping to keep them from bickering again. It was tiresome, the way Black always tried to bait Severus. Even Ginny glowered each time he did.

Sirius picked up the box. "Maybe I'll give them to Harry," he said.

Ginny snickered, and Hermione forced herself to suppress a smirk.

"They'd find better use if given to Miss Granger," Professor Snape said, silencing a book's mournful wail. "I doubt Potter would even read them."

Hermione smiled as she looked at the books with longing.

"No, Harry wouldn't; they'll simply take up space in his trunk," Ginny murmured, mirroring Hermione's thoughts. She looked at Ginny, and the younger girl winked at her.

"Well, I'll offer them to Harry anyway the next time I see him," Sirius said, heading for the door.

"Which will be never, since you're chained to the house," Professor Snape said and turned his attention to a rather large tome.

"I would be happy to write to him and let him know you have old school books to send him," Hermione offered, but Severus cut off Sirius before he could reply.

"And how exactly would you explain obtaining the books since you cannot divulge that you are residing in this house?"

"You're right, sir," she admitted remorsefully. The information restriction was really oppressive, and Hermione hated it.

Professor Snape picked up a thin book and dropped it into the crate. "Finish up, I don't want to be here all week doing this," he said, moving over to the next shelf.

"Why, Snivellus, do you have a more pressing engagement to attend to?" Black sneered from the doorway.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Professor Snape said with a wicked smile, even though he didn't turn around. "I have to finish testing a potion that would supposedly incapacitate a werewolf and trap him in his altered state."

"What?! No!" Hermione gasped.

"Oh, the potion will fail," he said softly, smirking at her.

"What do you mean trap him in his altered state?" Sirius demanded as he reentered the room and dropped the box on the floor.

"What altered state do you think I mean, Black? You're friends with Lupin...what altered state does he undertake?" Professor Snape replied with a hint of venom in his tone.

"You wouldn't!" Sirius snarled.

Professor Snape turned around. "No, I wouldn't. Besides, the potion will not work. Potions with silvera roots have to be brewed in a silver cauldron, and cerebrumium, which reacts strongly to silvera, cannot be. They are the main ingredients."

Hermione blanched and nearly dropped the book. "You mean the Silverarian Potion? That potion is illegal!"

Severus smirked at her and nodded, and Hermione gasped in shock.

"What's the Silverarian Potion?"

But Hermione barely registered the question, still staring worriedly at Professor Snape. "That potion is lethal! It was considered a failure in 1816 and hasn't been worked on since the last known brewer who attempted the brew blew up his village in 1941."

"Why?" Ginny asked and Hermione turned to look at her.

"It uses silver nitrate, mercury, and silvera roots and is, as Professor Snape said, brewed in a silver cauldron so that the silver aspect would hopefully kill the werewolf. Muggles believe that silver bullets can kill a werewolf. Bullets can kill one, but if the werewolf changes before he dies, the werewolf will survive the..."

"Lestrange thinks that it was the brewer's mistake. I simply have to prove it's impossible to brew, and the Dark Lord will give up on the idea," Professor Snape said softly.

Hermione reached out and touched his sleeve. "But you'll be careful, won't you?"

"Oh, how touching," Sirius sneered, and Hermione and Professor Snape both turned to glare at him, Professor Snape positively maliciously at him. "Always so fallible, aren't we?"

"He does what he has to," Hermione said as Professor Snape stepped away from the ladder.

"Warn your friend to stay away from the vales above Doonesbury," he said in a low angry tone to Sirius. "The wolves there are not friendly. Now take the books and go...or stay, but keep your dribble to yourself before you push me too far, Black. Now, I have work to do..."

"You forget yourself, Snivellus! This is my..."

With a wave of his hand, Sirius and the box flew out of the door, and Severus drew his wand, casting a shield across the door. "If either of you must leave for any reason, ask me. You will not be able to exit without my assistance. Now back to work...quietly!" he snapped and returned to the bookshelves.

Ginny shrugged at Hermione and picked up a dust rag to help with the dusting until there was a pile of books to log. Hermione stared at Professor Snape a while, then resumed working, thinking, It isn't like Sirius hasn't had it coming, the way he's taunted Severus...

~ T. B. C. ~