Chapter 26

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 Arabellabloodgood and to DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this and helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know.

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

---

Hermione walked down to Professor Snape's office feeling a bit of unease. She had no idea what he expected of her or what to expect from him. She saw a few of the Slytherins, Serena Wilkes, Aldebaran Urguhart, and Raymond Kennecott, leave his office just as she entered the corridor and slowed her pace so as to avoid a confrontation. Wilkes saw her and nudged Kennecott on his arm, making him turn to see what she was on about. He smirked and said something to his mates, making them laugh, but, thankfully, they walked on and left her alone.

Hermione sighed with relief. If they had been Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, I would've had to deal with an altercation all by myself. Well, maybe not. This close to Professor Snape's office, he might've heard something and come to help me, but it wouldn't be until after I'd been hexed or jinxed. Of course, then he would've been straightening me out or sending me to the hospital, and I'd lose house points or get another detention. Oh, yeah, being Muggle-born and being in the dungeons is always taking a risk. Hermione knocked on his door and waited for his demand to enter. It was never a polite invite, just a barked out, "Enter," which made every student she knew feel an instant lump in their gut.

"Why haven't you used the room I set up for you?" he asked as soon as she'd entered his office.

She quietly huffed; he hadn't even bothered to look up from his writing. "I've been really busy with revision, and Harry...between his Quidditch ban and worrying about whether Hagrid will be sacked...he hasn't really been very attentive this week," she tried to explain, although it sounded lame even to her.

Professor Snape closed the ledger he had been writing in and set his quill down on his desk before he looked up at her.

"And his scar is still hurting him, although... At least he hasn't been in detention with Umbridge again," she added with a hopeful air.

"I wouldn't be overly concerned for Professor Hagrid," Professor Snape stated blandly. He sat back and regarded her as if he was weighing whether he should confide in her or not.

Hermione shifted nervously on her feet and laced her hands together, unable to suppress her own anxiety for Hagrid.

One side of Professor Snape's mouth drew back slightly as he watched her. "Regardless of whether Umbridge takes away his teaching privileges, he is still Keeper of the Keys and groundskeeper for the school." He stood and moved around his desk to face her as he spoke. "Dumbledore will not make Hagrid leave the school any more than he'd allow Professor Trelawney to. He has his reasons for keeping them here." Professor Snape crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. "As for Potter's scar...has he had any more visions?"

"You mean besides the typical adolescent dreams?" she asked and flinched at his answering scowl. She clasped the back of one of the chairs with one hand as he dropped his arms, placing each hand on the edge of the desk beside his hips. "The same...a corridor. A dark, dimly lit corridor and a door. That's where the dreams always stop...at the door. Only his perception has changed somewhat, and he thinks he's been there before."

His head dropped so that he seemed to be looking at the floor. "So, it's the same dream," he said smoothly, so soft she had to strain to hear him. He looked up and turned around as he said, "Take a seat please."

Hermione complied. She watched as he placed a piece of parchment on the desk beside him and picked up a quill. He tapped the quill with his wand, and the quill hovered over the parchment, quivering slightly as if in anticipation. "Tell me all of the spells you've learned in your Defense club."

She started rambling off the list as best as she could, trying to ignore the scratch of the quill on his desk. "This would be easier if I had my revision guide."

"I just want a general idea of what you've accomplished," he stated. When she'd finished listing all the spells she could remember, he nodded. He flicked his wand at the parchment, and it folded itself. It vanished as he asked, "How are their fighting skills?"

"Pardon?" she asked, taken off guard by the vanishing parchment and wondering where it vanished to.

"You heard me," he said impatiently.

"Adequate, I think," Hermione admitted. "We're sparring against each other and..."

"In other words, inadequate." He crossed his arms again as he said, "Gryffindors do not use full force on a friend, and Hufflepuffs are too timid to hurt someone they like."

"That's not true!" she exclaimed, even though she realized that he was absolutely correct. They hadn't been sparring with full force, only with enough strength to learn the spells.

"Follow me," Professor Snape said and walked across the room. Hermione had to scramble to keep up.

He led her to a room across the corridor from his office.

"These are sparing dummies. They light up to indicate the velocity, accuracy, and strength of the spells," he said, indicating the row of four human-shaped target dummies that stood against the far wall. "Velocity is indicated by the number on the forehead." He indicated the dummies on the left. "This model registers strength by color codes in shades of green, blue and purple: green...good, blue...better, purple...real damage." He then pointed to the dummies on the right. "This model displays ones accuracy as determined by the location and force of the hit. Where the spell makes contact on the target dummy it will glow anywhere from white, yellow, orange, or red. White is contact...but no strength, yellow...sufficient impact but low effect, orange...sufficient impact with moderate effect, orange-red is a good, solid strike with optimum effect, and red...damage done." He turned to face her. "Show me what you've learned."

Hermione drew her wand and aimed a Stunner at one of the dummies. The number on the forehead indicated her velocity as one hundred and fifty-three, and the spot she'd hit the dummy turned blue.

"Not bad; do another," Professor Snape said stiffly.

Hermione could feel herself practically glow from his praise. She tried another and another. His remarks stayed the same, "Not bad; do another," until she'd tried all the spells they'd covered in the DA meetings. Her velocity ranged between one hundred and forty to one hundred and eighty-six, with her strength in the blue shades and her accuracy in the orange tones.

"Now, defend yourself against me," he said with a slight smirk as he drew his wand. Hermione braced herself, trying her best to defend herself against his onslaught. He was unrelenting, only stopping occasionally to reverse a spell she hadn't been able to deflect. She only managed to hit him thrice, and tore a hole in his robe with a hex. She was sore, bruised, and aching when the sparring stopped.

He walked over to a cabinet, withdrew two vials and gave them to her. "Here, drink this. One is a rejuvenation potion...the other a strengthening potion."

Hermione, still breathless from the sparring, drank them, thankful for the immediate relief. "Thank you."

He nodded. "If you could tell me where you are meeting, I can supply you with target dummies," he suggested, giving her more of the potions, two doses of the Rejuvenation Potion and one of the Strengthening to take with her, as well as a jar of his Muscle Pain Liniment.

She held the jar in her hand and smiled, remembering the times she'd rubbed the same liniment on his back just two years ago. "I think we have them, but I wasn't sure how to use them," she stated. It wasn't a lie; she just had to ask the room for them. At least now she knew what to ask for.

"We will do this again next week," he said and crossed his arms. "Now, you need rest."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. Good night, Professor."

He nodded, a clear dismissal. Hermione put the vials and jar in her bag and left the room, heading straight to her dorm.

---

Severus watched her leave and exhaled as he swore under his breath. She'd lied to him. They didn't have the target dummies, and she was not confiding in him as to where they were meeting or when. Not that when was an issue anymore; Septima had given Dumbledore all the probable dates and times that they could be meeting. Severus was just not certain that they had been meeting on all the dates she'd provided him.

He pulled the piece of parchment out of his pocket that had the list Hermione had provided him. According to the list, and from what Hermione had demonstrated, they'd covered a fair number of spells, and she definitely had them down well enough to spar with him, even if he had been holding back on her. He was actually annoyed by her performance. Her spells had been accurate and strong, but not nearly strong or fast enough for what lay ahead of her. She'd have to become much more aggressive and quick to survive.

He left the room, heading for the Headmaster's tower to report to Dumbledore. The old fool would be pleased by Potter's progress, he was sure, but Severus was not. Had he been with them, instructing them, they'd be much farther along. It's why he wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, well not initially, but the reason he'd wanted it this year...he knew what these students faced. First hand.

Well, he'd just have to train up Hermione and hope she taught Potter and Weasley well. It was the only hope they had at this point to get the boy ready for what he was to face, if he would ever be ready to face the Dark Lord. Severus had serious doubts.

Next meeting, he'd praise Hermione only for the spells that were in the purple or red ranges on the target dummies. He smirked. She thrived on praise, especially his, so that would definitely encourage her to push herself more aggressively in her training. All the better to make her a fighter, and keep her alive.

---

She thought that when Professor Snape had said he'd have her meet with him next week, that he'd meant Monday; but no, he waited until Friday. She had ten essays to write, and she had arranged another training day with Harry and Ron. At least she hoped it was a meeting and not a real detention. It isn't my fault that Neville became flustered and he almost got his fleabane and aster mixed up. Neville always gets flustered when Professor Snape lingers behind him, even if he was watching me to see if I'd mess up! Hermione took a deep breath before knocking lightly on Professor Snape's door.

To her surprise, the door behind her opened up. "Inside and quit gawking," Professor Snape hissed.

She hurried passed him into the room. "Now, let's review your spellwork, shall we? Take out your wand."

She didn't hesitate. She fired a stunner at the target dummy across the room. The indicator read one hundred and seventy, and the chest glowed a bright orange.

"Inadequate," he said with a sneer. "Try again."

Surprised by his comment, she tried again. This time the velocity number went up by seven points, and the chest glowed a dark orange red.

"Better, but not good enough," he stated coolly. "Again."

She tried harder, her anger making her whip her arm and flick her wrist forcefully. The velocity indicator read one hundred and ninety-eight and the dummy glowed a light blood red.

She could hear the smirk in his voice when he said simply, "Good; do another."

Now that she knew what he wanted, Hermione smirked in return. So be it. She fired an Impedimenta Hex with the same determination.

He stopped his pacing. "Not bad, do another."

Hermione aimed at another target dummy, pleased with the indigo-purple and high velocity score.

"Adequate, but you can do better," he said calmly. "Again."

Half an hour later, her arm was sore, her shoulder hurt, and her legs and back ached.

"That's enough for today," he said smoothly. "Now, face me." She turned to see him holding his wand. "You will dive, duck, anything to avoid being hit. To make this fair, I will only use verbal hexes."

"Wonderful," she murmured, and he straightened.

"Do you think this is a game, Hermione? It's not. Its war and you will be in it. Your association with Potter makes that an assurance," he said angrily. "You are behind in your knowledge and skills of magical defenses, and I have to get you caught up."

She lowered her arm as she stared at him. Oh my gods...that's what it's about? He's worried I'll get killed?

Professor Snape's wand lowered but a fraction. "What?"

"Nothing sir, you startled me...you called me by my given name," she said, taking a fighting stance.

"It will not happen again," he stated as he too resumed a fighting stance. "Now, anticipate my every action. Impedimenta."

What seemed like an hour later, he stopped and offered her a hand up. Again. "You've improved. Are you hurt?"

"No, well, yes, but nothings broken," she replied. She hurt everywhere: shoulders, elbows, knees, hips, back... toes.

"I'll escort you to Madam Pomfrey," he stated as he handed her books to review. "These are Dark tomes with spells my fellow Death Eaters like to use. Memorize the signs of the spells: the wand movements, whether they are verbal or nonverbal, if they have the ripple effect, spell-light color, the reversal...if there is one. Your life may depend on what you recognize in the second before the spell hits you. And I want you practicing moving: bending, lunging... Believe me, your adolescent gymnastics will now come in handy."

"You remember me telling you that?" she asked, looking up at him in amazement.

"I remember a lot of things you told me," he said with a smile, so much like his younger self used to when he was pleased with her. Seeing it made her heart ache. "You know those martial arts movies we talked about, some of those moves are essential to learn, how to bend and dodge. You must be flexible and have excellent balance. I've drafted a list of stretches and yoga positions to have you learn." He handed her a thin book. "Here."

She took the book but didn't take her eyes off his. "Yoga?"

"Yes. Yoga. Flexibility. Stretching. What part of that don't you understand?" he asked as if she'd just made a huge blunder. "Miss Lovegood is accomplished at it as is Miss Chang; I have heard that they both practice yoga every morning. Have them teach the others. There is a room that has been emptied down the corridor from the kitchens and expanded. It used to hold the old dented and broken pots and pans as well as all the school's linens. The Hufflepuff prefects should know about the room; if not ask, Zacharias Smith."

She would rather ask Dobby the house-elf before asking that blow-hole. "My Mum does yoga," she stated. "Well, I used to, too, but I quit when I started school."

"Well, take it up again. Find someplace near your common room to do the same, or just use the common room, but start doing yoga," Professor Snape said, picking up her bag for her and opening the door. "And teach Potter and the Weasleys too. I mean it, Hermione; you must be flexible and have good balance to be a good fighter. I'll see you in a week." He held her bag out to her.

"Do you do yoga, sir?" she asked, taking her bag.

He tilted his head and looked at her, and she lowered her eyes. "Of course you do," she replied, blushing.

"Every morning," he said softly. "So I expect you to do the same."

"Yes, sir," she replied, making a mental note to talk to Cho and Luna about leading stretching exercises.

---

"Harry, we have to do this," Hermione urged him as she conjured up dozens of padded mats for the floor. After last night's sparring with Severus, Hermione knew that they'd been much too lax in their training. She'd learned to duck, dive, lunge, and roll to avoid being hit. Duck and fire. Lunge, fire, then roll. Dodge, fire, then duck, roll, and fire again. Roll so that she ended up in a squatted position and fire. Fire as she dived, rolled and got up quickly to fire again. It was like those martial arts movies her father liked, or all those ridiculous girl-fighting movies...only real. Thank gods her mum made her take ballet and gymnastics, not that she'd appreciated it at the time. Still, Hermione had spent Friday night in the hospital wing recovering.

"And why are you three sneaking into this room?" George asked, entering the small classroom they'd been using for practice.

"When there is a perfectly acceptable room across from the tapestry of trolls learning to do ballet?" Fred asked, closing the door.

"How did you find us?" Hermione asked.

George shrugged as Fred smirked at her. "Followed you, of course," they said in unison.

"Right," she replied and turned back to Harry and Ron. "If you don't learn these how are you ever going to be able to defeat You-Know-Who?"

"By sheer dumb luck," Fred and George stated.

Hermione turned to glare at them. "That's not helpful."

"It wasn't luck that got him out of the graveyard," Ron stated.

Harry looked put out. "If you're all done taking the mickey out of me, shall we just get on with it?" he snapped.

"Sorry mate," Ron mumbled, as Fred said cheekily, "That's the spirit, Harry," as he drew his wand.

"Guys, can we focus please!" Hermione said, raising her voice to get everyone's attention.

George pulled his out as well. "Let's have a go, shall we?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Now these are the spells I think we need to learn," she said, making the spells appear on the wall. Harry and Ron moved closer to read them.

"Oi! Where did you learn those?" George asked, coming up behind Harry.

"Those are not fifth-year level," Fred stated beside Ron.

"Good thing you're here then, isn't it?" Ron asked.

Hermione turned to face Harry, ignoring the twins. "Watch me. I'm going to use the first one on Fred."

"Oh, no, you're not!" Fred exclaimed, aiming his wand at her.

Hermione leveled her wand at him. "Then why are you here if not to help Harry learn these so he can teach them to the others," she asked with a wicked smirk.

Fred leveled his wand and took a defensive stance. "All right, Miss Perfect-Prefect, let's see what you can do."

---

Two hours later, Ron, Harry, Fred, and George sat grumbling on cots in the hospital as Madam Pomfrey sorted them out and put them to bed.

"You know, I had no idea that she was so good?" Fred grumbled.

Ron turned his shoulders to face his brother because Madam Pomfrey had supported his neck with an immobilization spell. "You're surprised? She's right scary when she gets that look, and you fell for it!"

"At least I know how to do those three for next lesson," Harry said as he struggled into his pajama top without moving his bruised shoulder too much. "Once everyone masters the Impediment Jinx, Stunning Charm, and Disarming Spell, we'll...I'll teach those."

"Le' me ge's des s'raigh'; she 'eaches you, and 'hen you 'eaches ush," George mumbled around the cotton in his mouth that madam Pomfrey had saturated with the Teeth-Strengthening Elixir.

Fred leaned forward, holding the compress to his forehead in place. "What my brother is asking is; she teaches you, and then you teach us? Is that what's going on?"

"I understood him," Ron grumbled as he leaned back against his pillows and tried to get comfortable. "But yeah, that's what we've been doing."

"S'hen why ishn' she 'eachn' ha 'lass?" George asked.

"I dunno," Harry stated, already feeling quite groggy from Madam Pomfrey's potions. "I suppose she didn't think anyone would want to... ahhhh, learn from... ahhhhh, 'er," he mumbled the last and fell asleep.

"Well, she is rather bossy," Ron said, smirking at the wall.

Madam Pomfrey appeared around the curtain. "Stop all this chatter. You're supposed to be asleep."

"Yes, ma'am," all three Weasleys mumbled and quieted down.

---

The last DA meeting of the term, they practiced the Impediment Jinx and Stunning Hex on each other, as well as reversing the spells, or testing themselves with the target dummies the Room of Requirement provided them. Hermione was disappointed that they didn't do any of the advanced spells she, Harry, and the Weasley boys had worked on, but it might have been for the best. Some of the DA members just were not ready for the advanced spells. But in regards to the ones Harry was reviewing: Neville was really getting good, Colin was really becoming quite the fighter, and Cho really put forth the effort and was quite agile as well as strong. Even Ginny managed to make the target dummy glow red with most of her spells, enough for her brothers to take her a bit more seriously.

When Harry dismissed the lesson, reminding everyone to be careful and quiet as they made their way to their common rooms, Hermione spoke to Hannah, Susan, and Justin about the importance of learning yoga, Kung fu, or even gymnastics and stretching every morning. Justin promised to try and said his parents would be more than happy to have him start something over the holiday. Susan and Hannah both said that they'd try to get the Hufflepuffs together and practice yoga and stretching, too. Encouraged, Hermione sought out Terry and Anthony to discuss the same before they left for Ravenclaw tower.

Parvati and Padma cornered Hermione by the bookshelves as she helped straighten up the room. "Hermione, why yoga?" Padma asked.

She looked up, holding three books balanced on her lap and one in her hand. "Fighting, especially wand fighting, requires good balance, flexibility, and quick reflexes. So, far all we've done is easy dueling among friends, learning how to do the spells, but not really sparring." She cradled the books on her lap against her as she stood up. Lavender reached out from beside her and helped steady her. "Thank you, I didn't see you."

"Not a problem," Lavender said, withdrawing her hand. Hermione put the books she'd selected into her bag. "So, what now? We just practice on our own?" Lavender asked.

Hermione nodded. "Well, yes. I mean, term's over, and most of us are going home for Christmas."

"We could stay if Harry is," Padma said, nervously fingering the end of her braid.

Across the room, she could see Cho corner Harry between the mirrors and the target dummies. "No, he's not staying here over the holiday."

"I overheard what you said to Hannah, Susan, and Justin," Parvati said, and Padma made a nod as she glanced quickly from her sister and back to Hermione. "That is Muggle stuff, right? King foo and Jim-nogsticks."

"Kung fu is a fighting style that involves bending, jumping, twisting, and kicking, but yes, it's Muggle...Chinese martial arts actually," Hermione explained. "Gymnastics is tumbling, jumping, twisting, and knowing how to land on your feet. The thing is, the body movements would help us fight better. Or so I read."

Lavender absentmindedly handed Hermione a few more books off the shelf. "So, it's good if we learn this Kong fu and gymnastics?"

"Yeah, it is," Hermione agreed. "Or if there is a wizarding equilivent that I don't know about, do that."

Hermione followed the girls out, talking about the differences between Kung fu and gymnastics and how they would go about learning them.

---

Hermione sat on her bed reading, well, staring at one of the books from the Room of Requirement. Cho had kissed Harry under mistletoe the night of the last DA meeting, but Hermione wondered if maybe Cho's kiss tasting like tears had put Harry off her. He hadn't been all that enthralled by the kiss, not nearly as much as the hopeful anticipation of possibly kissing her had been. Time would tell.

Harry.

His dream about the attack on Arthur Weasley really had bothered Hermione. If it was a real vision from Voldemort, he shouldn't have seen it...if it wasn't, that meant he was having premonitions, and Hermione didn't believe in that rubbish. He and the Weasleys had returned to number twelve, Grimmauld Place that night, leaving Hermione at the castle all alone.

She decided to go to the room on the fifth floor and practice something...anything to get her mind off Mr. Weasley. Maybe I'll see if either Altheda Crockford or her friend, Rosalba Higgins, were in their frames. It would definitely take her mind off this to spar with Professor Snape again. If not, there was always the Room of Requirement and the target dummies.

Altheda said that Professor Snape had not been in his office, and Rosalba informed her he was not in his lab either. So Hermione resolved to spend some time in the Room of Requirement, but she spent her time reading instead of practicing her spells.

By the time Hermione dragged herself off to bed, it was very late. She laid in bed staring at the canopy and thinking about, well, everything. When sleep eluded her, she pulled out one of the books Professor Snape had lent her to read to memorize the various wand movements and individual spell indicators.

---

When the Hogwarts Express came to a stop at King's Cross, Hermione looked though the window, hoping to see a familiar face. Any familiar face. She had been told to remain in the prefect compartment and that someone would be there to retrieve her. A tall woman wearing a beige blazer, red cashmere turtleneck, and black pants with her silky blonde hair pulled back in a barrette stared straight at Hermione, catching and holding her attention. The woman stood with her arms crossed, ignoring the rest of the parents gathered on the platform. For a moment Hermione thought she might be Narcissa Malfoy, but Mr. Malfoy was standing four meters away next to a squat stocky wizard, who greatly resembled a balding Vincent Crabbe, and another taller, burly wizard.

Hermione waited as long as she dared. She checked the compartments she was assigned as prefect for any stragglers, glancing out each window, hoping to see a familiar face, before disembarking the train. But as the last students disembarked, she still didn't see anyone she recognized. Finally, giving up searching, she inhaled to calm her nerves and collected her things.

As soon as Hermione stepped from the train onto the platform, the tall woman in black walked toward her. "My little Gryffindor," she drawled smoothly, leaning closely in Hermione's direction so as not to be overheard and stopped right next to her trunk.

But Hermione was scanning the platform for help and missed what she'd said. Several students and parents were all milling around, but there was no one looking in their direction.

The woman clasped Hermione's arm and pulled her aside, leaning close to Hermione again so as not to be overheard. "I'm Severus Snape," she said softly with a smooth whiskey voice. "Come with me."

Hermione, however, had tried to jerk her arm from the woman's grasp and stood staring at her, not trusting the strange woman.

"Do not make a scene," the woman demanded softly, urging Hermione to walk away with her with a firm grip, a very strong grip, on her arm.

She tried to pull her arm free, but her iron grip only tightened on her arm. "Will you...what? No!" Hermione looked around, feeling a wave of panic. "You're hurting me!"

"Stop struggling and listen. In your third year you met my sixteen-year-old self, and I hid you in the classroom I used as my lab. You made me a spoon; we went for two hikes together, on one, I harvested a unicorn," she...he rattled off as she...he flicked her wand at Hermione's trunk and Crookshank's carrier and levitated them onto the trolley with a flick of her...his wrist. "You gave me a magical journal and a black swan quill as a thank you gift..."

She had to be Severus Snape; Hermione hadn't told anyone about the spoon or the hike... or the unicorn!

"Do you really think I could come get you as myself?" she...he asked with a soft drawl that seemed hilarious with the prim features of the woman's face. "I took Polyjuice Potion for an augury's wail. You're a sitting Mooncalf here, and Lucius Malfoy, Krause Crabbe, and Eugene Nott are just a stone throw away. Now move."

"Are they...?"

"What do you think?" The woman...professor took her arm and pulled.

"What...?"

"Will you hush!" she...he snarled and guided Hermione with him...her though the station. "I have to get you safely out of here." She...he directed Hermione toward the public restroom and ushered her toward the handicapped loo. "Get in the stall and change. Now."

"You can't come in with me?!" Hermione started to protest as the Polyjuiced Severus Snape did just that.

"Just do as I say without drawing everyone's attention, please," he said as he flicked his wand a few times at the stall door. She...he handed her a flask. "It already has a hair from a young girl of approximately your size. Change into something Muggle. Now. I want to get away from this place quickly and without incident."

"Professor, why the disguise?" she asked in a whisper.

He...she turned to look at Hermione annoyed. "First, as I said before, I couldn't very well appear on the platform as myself; secondly, there are several Death Eaters retrieving their children on the platform, doing their parental duties: Crabbe, Nott, and Malfoy obviously...whom I named earlier...but there are others. And third, it would be noticed with whom you left. It couldn't very well be your own parents since they are Muggles and unable to protect you, so I volunteered. Now hurry up and change."

At least he had the decency to turn his back to her and began changing the color of her...his clothes to black. Hermione swallowed a mouthful of the potion and fought back the urge to vomit. She wondered briefly where he'd encountered the woman and girl, but shrugged it off. It was of no importance. When the nausea ebbed, she struggled to open her trunk. Taking a quick glance at how nicely he...she was dressed, Hermione pulled out her best jeans and a red top she received as a gift from her mum but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. Her body was changing as she pulled up her jeans, and she realized that the girl she would imposter was slightly narrower in the hips, but at least her same height. A quick swirl of her wand and the jeans shrunk to fit better. When she looked up she noticed that he'd changed his hair to a dark brown.

Hermione touched her braid and realized that her hair had stayed in place, only now it felt silkier and not so thick. She quickly tightened the band at the end so it wouldn't fall off, smiling at the dark, honey blonde color. When she buttoned up the red blouse, Hermione realized that the girl was definitely less endowed in the chest. Not sure how to adjust a bra and top without a mirror, she scrounged around for something to pad herself.

"What is taking...?" Professor Snape asked as he turned his head slightly.

Hermione had found a partial sock she hadn't finished yet and was stuffing it in her bra.

"Why are you doing that?"

"So my clothes fit," she stated as she searched for another of her handmade socks. She found one and began to unravel the yarn until it was the same size as the first.

"You knit... What was that thing?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"A sock," she replied as she adjusted its placement, then turned to look at him...her.

"Oh, yeah, I heard about your spew attempt," he said with a sneer and picked up the cat carrier.

"It's not spew, it's S.P.E.W....the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," she snapped back and then blushed, when he...she glared at her. In this form, for some reason, Professor Snape was far less intimidating.

"Fine, S.P.E.W. We can discuss that ridiculousness later," he said and turned his attention to her pet. "If I make your cage into a tote, will you stay in it until I can get you to Headquarters?" he asked the cat. Crookshanks meowed and started to purr. "I'm trusting you. Jump out and run away from us, and you'll be homeless. I haven't the time to chase you." Crookshanks made a soft mew, even though he looked grumpier than usual. Professor Snape set the carrier down, swirled his wand over it, and it transformed into a tote with Crookshanks still inside. Crookshanks squirmed a bit, making himself more comfortable, then settled down. Professor Snape then turned his attention to Hermione. "Aren't you ready yet?"

"What about my trunk?" Hermione asked. "Are we just going to haul it around with us?"

With an exasperated sigh, he said, "Dump your books out of your bag. Keep only your wallet and essentials in it."

Hermione quickly complied and put all her books into her trunk. After she locked it, he shrunk the trunk down to the size of a cigar box and handed it to her. "There."

Hermione shoved it in her bag.

"Now let's get out of here. Act like a Muggle."

He led her outside and hailed a cab. "Kingsbridge," he told the driver.

"What's in Kingsbridge?" Hermione asked softly.

"Hush," Professor Snape admonished her as the cab pulled out into traffic. He leaned over to Hermione and said softly, "We have an hour to kill before I'm going to take you to see your friends. Are you hungry?"

"Not yet. Sir," Hermione started to say, then amended herself when the driver looked in his rearview mirror, "er, ma'am. Might I suggest the British Library? It should be open, and there is a café not far from it for dinner."

Professor Snape smiled and aimed his wand at the driver's back. "Let us out at the British Library." The driver changed lanes and took the next right without comment. When they arrived, Professor Snape handed the driver some money and walked with Hermione toward the entrance. "I'd prefer the history section, and we will stay together. Do not leave my side. You are still underage and cannot do magic."

"Yes, ma'am," she replied politely as they approached the doors.

He aimed his wand at Crookshanks. "Sorry about this, but I have to make you unnoticeable as cats are not allowed in the library." He touched Crookshanks' head with his wand tip to Disillusion him. "Stay with us; I'd hate for you to get lost," he reminded her cat.

They spent over half an hour reading together until his potion began to wear off. Severus slipped between the shelves and transfigured his pants into trousers, made the blazer into a proper coat, then transfigured his shoes into boots and enlarged them. Once he was finished dressing, Hermione indicated that they should leave. "The library will be closing soon. Maybe we could get a bite in the café I mentioned."

He shook his head. "No, there is a pub I like, a Muggle one, but there are booths where we can have some privacy." He took her arm and Disapparated with her. They arrived somewhere between establishments on a relatively quiet street. Once inside the pub, he led her to a corner booth and sat down, taking the spell off Crookshanks.

"Sir, my cat..."

"Can only be seen by us," he said smoothly. "Your cat seems to trust me more than you do." Severus ordered for them. The waiter didn't look surprised when he asked for a booster seat, three bowls of beef stew, one bowl of water, one black and tan, and one coke. When the waiter arrived with the booster seat, Professor Snape made it into a large platform for Crookshanks to sit on and eat his strew.

They talked amiably until he interrupted her. "Your change is starting. Go to the loo and adjust your clothes. It's right there, past the door to the kitchen. I'll wait here."

After their meal, he Apparated her to Grimmauld Place and ushered her inside quickly. "I'll be seeing you soon," he said cryptically, handing her Crookshanks' tote before he walked down to the kitchens.

Hermione let Crookshanks out of the tote and ran up the stairs, looking for Harry and Ron.

---

Hermione diligently did her stretching and yoga exercises every morning and stretched before bed. She was feeling more limber as the days wore on. Even Ginny started doing the stretching and yoga with her, exclaiming that it might help her with Quidditch as well. Ron tried it a few times and then gave up; but Fred and George at least tried the yoga for six days, although they related every yoga position to something sexual. Harry just didn't want to, preferring to either hang around Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, read his Quidditch books, or sulking about being left out of the Order meetings.

And Hermione didn't see Severus until Christmas was nearly over. He was avoiding coming to Headquarters, and she privately knew that it was also to avoid seeing Sirius Black, but Professor Snape did send Hermione books on defensive spells and reversing hexes, jinxes, and curses every few days. She'd asked Hestia one afternoon to mail Severus her gift of a bottle of black ink with a glossy green sheen and a box of stationary parchment with a green border she'd bought him during their last Hogsmeade weekend. On Christmas morning she had received two books wrapped in silver paper entitled, Defending Your Home and Person, and Edible Plants of Northwestern Europe from him.

Ever since she'd arrived, Harry had been acting, well, strange. He had bouts where he'd leave the room and sit by himself, mumbling. She hated herself for doing it, but she'd used the Extendable Ears to eavesdrop on him. He kept mumbling about leaving, wanting to get away from everyone...to protect them by his absence. It was absurd. Just as absurd as his grumbling that Dumbledore was avoiding him. Dumbledore was the wizarding equilivent of a Commander-in-chief for the Resistance and busy...not avoiding anyone. Even after Ginny had told Harry what it was like being possessed by Voldemort, he was still unconvinced and had bouts of reclusiveness.

During their visit to see Mr. Weasley, he'd told them about Trainee Healer Pye's botched attempt of using stitches on Mr. Weasley's wounds, and Mrs. Weasley had been in a thither all evening.

But poor Neville, it was awful about his parents.

Hermione was nonetheless as elated as the Weasleys when Mrs. Weasley finally brought the family patriarch home. She followed the Weasleys as they pushed his wheelchair into the kitchen. "Cured!" Mr. Weasley announced, "Completely cured!"*

Suddenly everyone became really quiet.

Hermione took in the scene before her. Both Professor Snape and Sirius Black had their wands aimed at each other. Black had his hand on Harry as if to push Harry aside, and Harry had both of his arms up as if standing between them to try and avert a duel. Professor Snape looked livid...well, affronted and incensed really, and Black looked as if he was asking for a fight...cocky and self-puffed up assured.

"Merlin's beard,"* Mr. Weasley said, the humor leaving his voice. "What's going on here?"*

Professor Snape pocketed his wand and turned to leave. "Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter,"* he snarled as he forced his way out of the room.

Hermione squeezed her way out of the room after him. "Professor," she called after him. "Professor." He didn't stop, and she ran to catch up to him. "Severus."

"Do not use my given name," he snarled as he turned around.

"You wouldn't stop," she stated as she skidded to a stop in the entry way.

"I have somewhere to be," he snapped at her.

She approached him, unfazed by his attitude. "Did you...was it you?"

"Was it me, what?" he asked, his hands clenched at his sides. "Out with it girl; I haven't all day."

"Mr. Weasley, the Healers couldn't figure out how to treat Vo...You-Know-Who's snake's venom. It was you, wasn't it?" She knew it had to be him. "I've been reading up on snake bites and nothing in the books matched Mr. Weasley's condition. How did you get the venom to make the antivenin?"

He uncrossed his arms and then pulled her into the drawing room. "You've read...of course you have."

"It was you!" she said with conviction. "You milked her? You must have...and made the antidote. It had to be you. That bite was unlike any I read about... the venom was...it's unique, isn't it?"

"You will keep that a secret," he hissed.

"Why?!" she asked, flabbergasted. "Don't you want credit for..."

"Because if the Dark Lord finds out what I did or for whom, he will kill me, that's why." He ran his hand through his hair. "Use your head," he snapped at her, but without the vinegar his tone had previously. "Have you been doing like I asked and making yourself limber?"

"Yes, every day," she assured him. "I spoke to everyone before I left school. Lavender and the Patil twins are going to try gymnastics and stretching over the holiday. Luna and Cho, they both agreed to teach yoga and stretching exercises to all the Ravenclaws, and I received a letter from Ernie that he, Hannah, and Susan will do the same...to do what they can to get limber."

He nodded. "And you've read the books I lent you?"

"Yes, I have, and I've tried to teach the information about the wand movements, spell indicators and the reversals to Harry and Ron...when they'll pay attention," she stated. "They are able to determine verbal ones, but not the nonverbal ones. Ginny, Fred, and George are getting really good with distinguishing the spell signs: wand movements, the ripple effects, spell-light colors..."

"Figures, Potter's just like his father. He never takes these things seriously," he said and turned his head to look at the Christmas tree

She automatically jumped to Harry's defense. "No, he's not like James Potter at all...he's himself!"

"You didn't know him like I did," Professor Snape said, refusing to look at her.

"No. I didn't. I only encountered him that one time in the forest, and I saw you hurt...several times...presumably by Potter and Black," she said, and he turned to look at her, his expression hard. "Do you remember when you were hospitalized, and I had no word from you for days? I may not have known him, but I can say I know how he was to you."

His hands clenched into fists. "You have no idea...you only saw it once. Once. I..."

"How well did you really know him, anyway? I mean, really know him?" she snapped and then held her hands up in supplication. She hated this argument. Why can't he see past this own prejudices. "It's like Malfoy; how well do you think I know him, eh? He's my bully...so are Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, or Crabbe and Goyle." She dropped one of her hands, extending the other toward the doorway. "However, I cannot tell you anything about them except that they are mean to me, blinded by prejudice, egotistical, rude, and malevolent. I'm sure you see them differently than I do."

He just stared at her and then turned to face the windows.

"However, as much as James Potter and Sirius Black were arrogant, bullying gits, however much as they hated and tormented you, Harry was not raised by his father or Black. He was raised by his aunt and uncle...two Muggles who are condescending and abusive to him and consistently try to suppress his magic. He never knew his dad, Severus, or his mother...knows almost nothing about them except what has been written about them in the history books and old newspapers."

He glared at her, his expression hard. "So his life isn't perfect," he snapped.

She let out her breath slowly as she counted silently to ten and then dropped the subject. "The information on the Dark spells, I wrote it all out for the others as well...a list to study...all of the wand movements, spell indicators and the reversals. But I can't give it to them until school starts."

"Send them to me, and I'll send them by school owls." His body relaxed as he faced her again. "Use the Weasleys' owl if you must contact me; don't use Potter's. The white owl is too recognizable." His hand rose as if to touch her and then dropped. "I have to go."

She wanted him to stay a while longer, but knew he wouldn't. "Thank you for my gifts."

He looked over her head at the doorway. "You're welcome; and I thank you for mine." He stopped just as he passed her. "Be good, my little Gryffindor."

"I will. Happy New Year, Severus," she said softly as he walked away.

~ T. B. .C. ~

---

Author's Notes:

The lines of dialogue with the asterisks are taken directly from the book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, of course, the American version.

Where the story gaps is what we have in canon, and I didn't want to type it all out. Hope that's all right with you.