Chapter 42

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.

Once again, the events that are not mentioned in this story that happen in the books remain as they happened in the books.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood, Proulxes for the bit of Brit-picking, 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 gasped as she stared at the article in the Daily Prophet. After the announcement of a new Ministry appointment in the Oblivator's Office, there was an article which read that Incandesce Illuminations had been ransacked. A picture showed a small shop with broken windows and the Dark Mark looming above the shattered door and charred doorway.

Although, Miss Amelia Brighton, owner of Incandesce Illuminations, claimed to have any type of candle or illumination the discerning witch or wizard could need, it is unclear as to why she or her shop would have attracted the attention of You-Know-Who, but apparently, Miss Brighton was the victim of a Death Eater attack on Saturday evening. ... continued on page four

Hermione turned to page four, scanning through the article and saw that three other people had gone missing. Brow furrowed, she read the list.

Roger Hedenhal, a Muggle-born shop assistant, was last seen leaving his job at Barratts Boots in Little Chippering last Saturday night.

Adeline Haddon, a Muggle-born clerk for the Floo office, and Richard Hedresford, a Muggle-born Floo connection specialist, were last seen leaving work Saturday night. Witnesses say that they saw streaks of black smoke, then nothing. Death Eater abduction is suspected.

William Guifford, a Muggle-born who worked in the Weights and Measures Office as a Recalibrator, went missing after inspecting the scales at the Knockturn Apothecary...

"They are all Muggle-born!" she gasped aloud, making both Harry and Neville look up at her.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, looking worried.

She simply shook her head, absorbed in the horror reported so casually in the morning paper. The next article saddened her even more.

A Muggle, Mr. Hale, and Gloria Haversheim-Finch, pure-blood witch and mother of Ronnie and William Havershein-Finch, first- and second-year students at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, were found in the garden of the Havershein-Finch family's home at five o'clock this morning. Mr. Hale was the victim of the Killing Curse, and Gloria Haversheim-Finch the victim of some unknown hex that boiled her blood.

Aurors on the scene say that concerned neighbors called the Muggle authorities as soon as they saw Mrs. Havershein-Finch and Mr. Arnold Hale lying in her front garden, after hearing an unusual disturbance this morning. "She always comes out first thing in the morning to tend to her flowers. I remember her saying that it was time to pull up her bulbs for the winter," Mrs. Logan, the Havershein-Finch's neighbor who had been the first to discover the bodies... "But this was unusually early, even for her. The commotion woke Ed and me, and I looked out the window to see what was going on. There was an odd bloke in a long, black house coat and another person in a hooded cloak...I didn't see their faces...but the one in the housecoat was demanding something rather loudly, then I heard Gloria's screams and ..." continued on page six

Hermione's eyes widened in recognition of the names. Ronnie and William are first- and second-years in my house... Oh, my gods! She quickly turned to look down the table at where the second-years sat together. Both boys were sitting there, sheet white. Hermione jumped up and hurried down to where they sat. "Ronnie, William, c'mon. Come with me," she said softly, touching Ronnie on the shoulder.

Ronnie Havershein-Finch looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. Beside him his younger brother, William, sat unmoving, grief stricken, his small shoulders shaking, his hands still clutching the morning paper. "C'mon, let's get you up to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said calmly, trying to urge the boys to get up.

Ginny appeared at her side, laying a gentle hand on William's arm. "Up you go," she said in a tone so like her mum's. "Let's get you up to the hospital wing, shall we?"

Both boys stood, and Hermione and Ginny escorted them out of the Great Hall, Ginny carrying their bags as well as her own.

Colin walked up followed by Professor McGonagall. "I was just going to escort them to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione stated softly, keeping a reassuring hand on Ronnie's back.

Professor McGonagall nodded and turned to Colin. "I think we have things in hand, Mr. Creevey. You may go."

Colin nodded and walked away, and Professor McGonagall, Hermione and Ginny escorted the two boys up to the hospital wing. As Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey tended to the grief stricken boys, Hermione and Ginny somberly walked to the library to wait until lessons started, neither wanting to talk, but not wanting to face their housemates yet, either.

---

Severus was reading the article on Gloria Havershein-Finch when Hermione jumped up from her seat and rushed to the side of Messrs Havershein-Finch. Gloria Haversheim-Finch was mostly likely attacked due to her rumored relationship with her Muggle neighbor, now identified as a Mr. Hale. Severus never believed the rumors; Mrs. Haversheim-Finch was a friendly woman, but hardly the type to involve herself romantically with a Muggle. Still the attack was a brutal murder, carried out by two of the Death Eaters, one of them most likely either Selwyn or Rowle, whom he knew used the Blood-Boiling Curse on occasion. It was a painful way to die.

He looked up and watched Hermione as she talked to the boys, fulfilling her prefect duty, her concern and compassion evident on her face.

Amelia Brighton, a daughter of Muggle-born and half-blood parents, carried Secret Illumination Candles, handheld globes that acted much like a Hand of Glory by providing candlelight for the one who held it but that was nearly obscure to others, and black flame candles used in Potions or Dark Arts in her shop...both items generally used by his dark brethren. Severus had tried to warn the Order that the fact that she sold these openly in her shop had raised the ire of the Death Eaters... Apparently his warning went unheeded.

The three other Muggle-borns had been attacked for the only transgression of having the wrong set of parents.

And Raithe Macrae had told Severus that there were others, a long list of individuals whose names were being spoken of when any of the Death Eaters gathered, which both Duane Hartshorne and Grantham Thortenson confirmed when they wrote to him.

Severus had only been summoned a few times to make reports, either late at night or while the students ate their dinner, but not knowing why the Headmaster left the castle or where he was going only irritated the Dark Lord. So far, Severus had been lucky; reports on the progression of the curse eating away at Dumbledore's arm were enough to forestall his wrath. But the talk, the dissension of the others eager to begin taking action... the Dark Lord's followers were getting restless. There would be more attacks, more missing.

He was certain that as soon as Dumbledore died from this bloody curse...the Dark Lord would make his move.

His eyes followed Hermione as she and Miss Weasley escorted Messrs Havershein-Finch from the Great Hall. When the door closed behind them, he scanned the Hall, his gaze falling on Potter and Mr. Weasley, then on each of Hermione's friends, the students who had been involved in that illicit extracurricular group of friends...the DA. If Hermione had continued having meetings with her little club, Severus knew that their number would only increase. They were children, not at all prepared to defend themselves against what would come, when it came.

They didn't know what they truly faced out there. With all the incompetent defense teachers and inconsistent teaching methods, they were woefully ignorant to what was going on out in the real world, and it was possible some of them, especially Hermione and her friends in her DA group, could face another attack attempt over the Christmas holidays.

He knew the reports that came to Dumbledore from St. Mungo's and the Aurory...they had discussed the spells and curses being created by the Dark Lord's followers, and he'd even tried to create potions to relive the worst effects...

He had a lot to cover in only a few weeks.

---

Usually, Monday's double DADA lesson involved practical use of the defenses spells to the curses that Professor Snape discussed the previous Friday and assigned for them to read over the weekend; but instead he'd written a long list of curses on the blackboard, and the desks were in neat rows instead of having been moved aside.

"Put away your wands and close your books," Professor Snape said sharply as the students were all sitting down. "We will be having an oral examination, today."

Hermione looked up in surprise and slid her wand back into her bag, wondering what had irritated Professor Snape so early this morning. It's possible that he knows one of the people mentioned in the Daily Prophet this morning, she presumed.

"Today is a review of all the curses an N.E.W.T. level class should know by now. I will call your name, and you will tell me the most effective defensive spell, the countercurse or means of reversing the curses effects, the wand movement and the trajectory pattern and color if known of the curse I give you. You will get one point for each correct answer, ten points deducted for each wrong answer," Professor Snape said, holding a long pointing staff in both hands.

Hermione smiled inwardly as all her friends, even Neville, sat up in their seats, boldly facing their teacher. Hermione knew that Seamus, Dean and Neville had been revising as hard in Defense this year as she had...so much was at stake once they left school, possibly even before that, if the articles in the Daily Prophet were true. Every day, someone disappeared, or was found severally cursed or dead. Even Harry was taking his Defense lessons more seriously; of course that could also be because he was spending so much of his time with her to avoid feeling like a gooseberry around Ron and Lavender.

"Mr. Longbottom," Professor Snape said, and even though Neville looked nervous, Hermione was glad to see him sit up straighter. "The Cruciatus Curse."

Neville paled slightly, but gave a near perfect answer, only stuttering slightly as he replied, "Th-the C-cruciatus, also known as the Torture Curse, is one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It causes severe pain to its victim, and prolonged t-torture can destroy the victim's mind. There is no kn-nown countercurse. The wand movement is-is a direct pointing motion at the victim, the trajectory is a-a straight line, and there is no in-indication coloring. Glenhallen's Deflection is occasionally helpful if cast at the same time as the curse. Lysurus Elixir works on those who have suffered mild to severe duration but not on those who-who, have... been brain damaged."

"Five points, Mr. Longbottom, but then again that one should have been easy for you," Professor Snape said, tapping the blackboard and the curse faded in color. He called on Dean next. "Entrail-Expelling Curse."

"Otherwise known as Rackharrow's Curse, it slices the victim open so that his entrails spill out. Immediate stasis on the victim is needed until a Healer can put the guts back in and Blood-Replenishing Potion. The wand movement is a well-aimed slash in the direction that the caster wants to cut the victim open. Brenton's Deflection works, but not always successfully; if you catch it right, it only blocks most of the damage and the Lundergan Shield or Bowed Shield only works if the shield is especially strong. The trajectory is whip like, wicked fast, wisteria violet in color and cuts like a sword, even wrapping around the body if cast strongly enough. Immediate Healer attention is needed to survive."

"Five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Thomas," Professor Snape said, eliciting a few students to grumble about fairness as he made the curse fade on the blackboard. Professor Snape called out Parvati's name next.

Parvati was able to correctly describe the Tongue-Blisters Curse, or Lingua-Vomica Curse, correctly identifying the countercurse, Lingua mederi or the Tongue-Healing Charm, the wand movement and the trajectory pattern, but she incorrectly stated that the color of the spell as a flash of blue-green, not a dull blue-grey. She lost Gryffindor, ten points.

Professor Snape continued calling on students at random until they finished all the spells on the blackboard. He waved his wand and a new list appeared. "You should know the newer ones that have been used in the wizarding world in the last few years." He turned back to face them and scowled. "Well, why are you not ready? Take out your parchment and quills."

Immediately everyone scrambled to get their writing materials as quickly as possible.

"If you remember, I said at the start of term that the Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal? Fighting the Dark Arts is like fighting that which is unfixed, mutating and indestructible and are as diverse, innovational and imaginative as the demented minds that seek to create new and exciting ways to cause pain or harm to others...and there are a few people who do enjoy such pursuits. I believe you call them Death Eaters...but they are not the only people who create curses...some are even created by accidental magical outbursts and then repeated for the torment of one's adversaries or the amusement of their friends," Professor Snape said, staring at Harry.

Hermione saw Harry's expression harden at the direct implication.

"These," Professor Snape said as he held out his hand in the direction of the blackboard, "are only the one's I've heard about." He then proceeded to describe each curse: the trajectory pattern, the color and the wand motion, if he knew it, and explained the effect on the victim in gruesome detail, even showing a picture or diagram on several of them, and told them the countercurse, if it was known.

Most of the curses were ghastly or utterly grotesque, and many were horribly cruel in Hermione's opinion. Several of the others in the room, especially Lavender and Parvati, had gasped more than once as Professor Snape went down the list.

Hermione wrote each one down and taken as detailed notes as quickly as she could with a quill. More than once, she'd wished that wizards used ink pens, instead of quill and ink...it was faster, and she felt she had wasted valuable seconds having to stop and dip her quill so frequently. Still, she felt confident that she'd written most of the information down. Hopefully, Neville or Seamus, who had both been writing as furiously as she'd been to keep up with today's lecture, would have the ones she missed, if neither Harry nor Ron did.

"Most of these spells do not currently have a known countercurse. The counter curses are still being worked out by professionals with more experience than you to determine them. However, as your assignment, you will dissect what you know of each curse and estimate the best possible defensive spell," there was a general groan in the room, "based upon the trajectory pattern, the color and the wand motion if your opponent were to use one of these curses against you."

"How are we to know which counter spell to use if they are new?" Seamus asked to no one in particular.

"But how?" Lavender whined to Parvati. "If there isn't a countercurse, how are we supposed to figure it out?"

Professor Snape stared directly at her. "Were you or were you not part of Mr. Potter's group that went flying off to the Ministry last June on a fool's errand to rescue a man, a known murderer and escaped convict, who wasn't even in the Ministry at the time?"

Lavender blushed and lowered her head.

"You know she was, sir," Seamus responded under his breath.

"Mr. Finnigan, ten points from Gryffindor for not raising your hand," Professor Snape snarled. "You have learned various shielding charms and deflection spells over the last two months, have you not?" He stepped closer to Seamus' desk. "Use your brain and estimate what would be your best defense." He looked up as the bell tolled the hour. "Your list is due on Friday."

---

On Friday, Professor Snape had the list of the curses they'd been given the previous lesson written on the blackboard. He started calling on students at random to read their suggestions of which defensive spell to use, awarding two points for what he felt was a good defensive decision, one point for an acceptable defense and deducting five points for poorly chosen decisions, and then made them identify the trajectory pattern, the color and the wand motion, and name the countercurse if there was one known.

Hermione made numerous notes on her parchment, writing down which defense Professor Snape thought most effective, amazed that she had gotten many of them right.

However, Gryffindor lost an astounding sixty-eight points overall that morning.

On Monday, Professor Snape gave a lecture on determining the best defense blocking spell to use based upon the wand movements of the opponent. "Miss Granger, come up here," he said, actually demanded, indicating Hermione stand in front of the class and face him, much to her surprise.

"You can do it, Hermione," Harry encouraged her as she walked forward, wand in hand.

Neville nodded, mouthing, 'Good luck.'

As she squared off with him, Professor Snape said, "Do your best," so softly she almost missed it, then turned to the rest of the class. "Not all wizards shout their intention," he said as he glanced pointedly at Harry. "Many mumble or say the incantation through gritted teeth. Either way, in a wand fight, it's important to read your opponent's expression, and their eye, body and wand movements. For example..."

He turned and brought his wand up as he faced Hermione. His head tilted ever so slightly, and Hermione tensed, keeping her shoulders, arm and wrist relaxed and her body ready to spring. There was a teeny twitch of Professor Snape's lip, and then he moved. Hermione reacted instinctively, bringing her wand up in Quinte as professor Snape's arm rose, then angled, as she easily deflected his curse. He brought his arm down, so she brought her wand down, performing Septime as his wand tip flicked upward, and her deflection spell blocked his second curse.

He threw nine more curses at her in sets of three, all nonverbal, while everyone watched. With each set, he told her, and everyone else in the room, what she did wrong, but he was in teaching mode, so his barbed comments didn't hurt her feelings. Even though she felt self-conscious sparring against Professor Snape in front of everyone, she felt exhilarated as well, proud that she'd managed to stand on her own, and deflected all eleven curses with relative ease, although not as fluidly as she'd have liked.

When he called a halt to the demonstration, she was pleased to see a slight curve to his lips that immediately vanished before he turned to face the class. Of course, he only gave her six House points, but the almost smile was recognition enough.

"All right, pair up and try deflecting your opponent's spells. All spells, approved curses, hexes and deflection spells are to be done nonverbally," Professor Snape instructed. As everyone got up, Professor Snape made the desks slide into a side cupboard and levitated their bags to the back of the room.

After the lesson, Hermione tried once again to talk to him about wandless magic lessons, but he scowled at her. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"Sir, about, er, my lessons, I was wondering if..."

"I don't have time, Miss Granger, nor the inclination," he said, making the desks return to their normal places with a few flicks of his wand. "Go to your next lesson."

She sighed and turned her head, hoping he didn't see how much his curtness bothered her. "I understand, sir," she said, turning to leave.

"You did well today," he said softly, making her turn back sharply, somewhat startled.

"Thank you, sir,” she replied.

"Go," he said, indicating the door.

She left, feeling somewhat elated by his remark, and met up with Harry in the corridor to walk to Potions together.

---

On her way to Potions on Thursday, Hermione saw Professor Snape exiting his office. Faking the need to retie her shoelace so she might have a moment with Professor Snape without Harry around, she urged Harry to go on ahead of her. But when she stood up, Professor Snape was gone. She walked down the corridor toward her lesson, regretting the lost opportunity to talk to him. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her arm, and she tried to yank her arm free as her assailant pulled her aside.

"Stop struggling, you silly girl, it's only me," Professor Snape said in a deep, hushed tone.

Relieved, Hermione nodded and followed him into a seldom used narrow stairway that sometimes led to the first floor. She frowned as he cast a softly spoken, "Muffliato," on the entrance, then cast the Notice-Me-Not Charm with a Repelling Charm. How does he know the Half-Blood Prince's spell?, she thought, then realized that he was holding out a rolled parchment for her to take.

"I don't have all day, Miss Granger, do you want this or not?"

"Want what?" she asked, taking the parchment and unrolling it. Hermione glanced at the tight, spiky writing, realizing that it was a list of various books and periodicals.

"A list of reading material...not that it will help all that much. Wandless magic is not something you can learn from a book, but if you study the theory and compare them to what you learned about conductive focus with a wand your first year and channeling your magical energy in normal magical applications, you may be able to learn how to do a few rudimentary spells," he was saying.

He was standing so close to her in the confined space that she could smell his scent, and even feel his magic thrum around her...intimating yet enticingly powerful...as he maintained his shield.

"Remember what I told you in my small lab, when you were a girl, analyze and hypothesize, rationalize out how. When I have time again, I'll arrange an hour or so to show you. But for now, it's impossible."

She breathed in and out deeply as she listened to his every word, trying not to be distracted by the combination of his presence and the purely masculine smell from his robes. A mix of herbs...slightly smoky... like oakmoss... vetiver... citrus and cedar.

"Miss Granger."

His tone brought her back to her situation abruptly, and she immediately looked up at him. "Oh, sorry, sir," she stammered. She had Potions in only a few minutes. "Analyze, hypothesize and rationalize...isn't it like channeling my magic through my fingers instead of through my wand, reaching into my core, finding my center and..."

"No." He sighed heavily. "Why everyone reads Murdock is beyond me, the man was an idiot." He tapped the parchment in her hand once with a finger. "Read these, especially the chapters explaining the theory; the practical aspect is really quite different, more... complex. As a singularly determined young woman, you should be able to focus your intent sufficiently. However, I must warn you, few witches or wizards ever master anything above a few rudimentary spells, levitation, igniting or extinguishing a candle or drawing small items to within their reach."

"Thank you, sir, I'll do my best," she replied. She could already do Levitation, Summoning and Repelling Charms on objects, but it thrilled her that she could possibly learn how to do more.

He chuffed a laugh. "I've no doubt you will," he said in his normally harsh professor tone as he exited the stairway for the corridor.

---

The next day, Ron and Lavender were once again in the library. Hermione was certain that it was due to Lavender's influence, because it was something she'd never been able to get Ron to do. But there they were, revising...actually revising...at the tables. And Ron still seemed as affected by Lavender's Allure as ever. "Damn it, she's a long Bloomer!" she hissed as she walked by. Life couldn't be any more unfair.

Hermione pulled out Professor Snape's list of books and periodicals on wandless magical theory and walked to the library card catalogue, making a notation of the location for each book on her list. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Ron watching her a few times, but she pointedly ignored him. When she turned, Lavender was snuggled up to his side, but Ron shushed her, fully intent on his own work.

Hermione sighed. He'd never been this attentive on his studies when he'd been in the library with me! So why now? She mentally shook her head. It doesn't matter...good for him. Maybe he'll do better this year. She walked over to the stacks with her head held high.

---

Severus had to find Dumbledore to give him the new potion. The old wizard had been gone a full week, and Severus' attempt at using the mirror the night before, which was supposed to allow him to contact the wizard, failed to link.

He was loath to use his Patronus; it was still a doe. Lily's doe. Even though Lily had been far from his mind each time he'd cast the charm to send it, it was still a doe. When he cast it now, he focused on the memory of Hermione's gifts: the spoon she'd made for him and the journal and quill he still kept in his desk, and the warm feeling he'd had realizing there was no ulterior motive behind them. That, or he used the memory of their hike, or their snow fight, or even their dueling lessons... seeing her large, amber eyes gazing up at him with pure, guileless, open enthusiasm whenever they were alone together as his happy memory. In only a short time span, she'd given him enough happy memories to produce a vivid, corporeal Patronus easily.

He waved his wand, incanting, "Expecto Patronum," seeing his doe emerge brightly. "Where are you...I have your potion," he said as it bounded around the room. His doe dove out the window, soaring through the air and blending in with the grey rainclouds. It was risky sending his Patronus, but thankfully only a handful of people knew its shape. Only one person knew its significance, and he used that information like a choke chain.

Dumbledore's silvery phoenix appeared a few minutes later. "Come to The Lake Road Inn in Keswick."

Scowling, Severus swished his wand as he spun about-face sharply and shot out of the window, hurling his body in a trail of smoke as he soared to the school gates, the way Death Eaters and Order members magically leaped distances to a visual destination. It was a risky way of leaving the castle, but the dark cloudy sky masked his plume. Within seconds he was standing in the rain at the gates and Apparating away to the Lake District. He walked quickly and found the inn easily, slipping inside and shook off his cloak, hanging it on a hook.

The old man was sitting in a corner table wearing a bright yellow suit with lime green ruffles showing at the cuffs and a lemon-patterned cravat, sipping on spiced wine. The wizard's sense of fashion rivals Elton John's! Or emulates it, for Merlin's sake...it's a bloody toss-up. "You should not drink wine before taking your potion," Severus said in greeting as he slid into the other chair.

"I find the taste pleasing after a long Apparition," Dumbledore said calmly, adding quickly, "How is Draco coming along with his task?"

"Poorly; you're still alive," Severus stated, then ordered a pint of Snecklifter. "I received a letter from Narcissa asking how Draco is 'getting on'. I've yet to respond."

Dumbledore nodded. "He is still resisting your aide, then? I'm sorry, my boy. You still don't believe that Draco's task is to kill me?"

"Hardly," Severus sneered, but without any true vitriol behind it. "All his attempts so far have been incompetent, poorly thought out and easily thwarted...hardly the level of cunning and execution that I know the boy possesses."

"I think you are overestimating Draco's abilities as much as you are underestimating Harry's," Dumbledore said as the waiter set another mug on the table and left. "Regardless, Severus, should Draco fail, you must be the one to do it."

"Yes, so you've said," Severus replied, this time not hiding his bitterness. "Or we could both wait until the curse takes you, which should be sometime before summer, since you so frequently miss taking your bloody potion as you should. Or, if you like, I could kill you in May. Would that be acceptable? Or right after the school exams? It'll give you time to make your final arrangements and any funeral requests known to Minerva. I can fill her in when I return."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, my dear boy, Minerva must not know of our plans. She is Gryffindor and far too open and trusting...Tom would be able to read her thoughts like a book should she be questioned."

"So she's to be in the dark as well. Is anyone to be aware of our plans?" Severus asked, the anger surging up inside of him again.

Dumbledore didn't respond; he simply sipped on his wine with a damned twinkle in his eyes.

"So I'm to be set up to be loathed by everyone, a pawn in your schemes?" Severus sneered, fighting the hopeless sense of being trapped in this shitty situation.

"You must appear to be beyond reproach, Severus, so that Tom trusts you explicitly," Dumbledore said calmly. "You will face many trials as Headmaster, and I don't want any excuse for him to enter the school. No, as much as it saddens me that you'll be on your own, it is truly necessary."

Severus flicked his wand discretely at the mug in the old man's hands, emptying the wine, and then refilled it with his potion. "Bottom's up, then," he said and lifted his own drink. "To your demise."

"Oh, Severus, don't be so bitter. Death comes for us all in the end," Dumbledore said and drank his potion.

Severus hoped he hadn't drunk enough wine to nullify the effects of the potion. "Let me see your arm."

Dumbledore shook his head as he set down his empty mug. "No time, my boy. I have a lovely, old woman to go see tonight."

"What are you up to?" Severus asked, resting both forearms on the tale as he held his glass.

"That which must be done so everything will work out according to plan," Dumbledore said and rose from the table. "Good night, Severus, I shall see you in the morning."

Severus rose and followed the old man out, noticing that Dumbledore's posture was becoming stooped as if age had truly caught up to him. It grieved him to see the old wizard degrading so. Both men said good bye in a secluded spot between some shops and Apparated away, although to different destinations.

---

Ron and Lavender had been lip-locked in common room all weekend, much to Hermione's annoyance. She had hoped Ron would return to normal, as it was now over two weeks since Lavender's birthday, and she had to have stopped Blooming by now, but that was obviously not going to happen any time soon.

Hermione gave up revising an hour before the younger year's curfew and changed into her swimsuit and robes. On her way to the prefect pool, she literally ran into Professor Snape in the corridor junction on the fifth floor. "Oh, I'm sorry. Good evening, sir," she said, trying to suppress her smile at seeing him, even though he looked rather agitated or upset about something.

He paused, momentarily taken aback. "Miss Granger."

He had obviously just washed, his hair looked wet, and he was standing so close she could smell his cologne. "Um, I like your cologne," she said, ignoring the way he was gritting his teeth. "What is it?"

"My cologne?" he asked, startled. "Why?"

She cocked her head at him, unable to hide her smile. He looked nice, his hair damp, his robes fresh. "It smells nice, familiar..." Like rain dampened wood-esque sea breeze, earthy and rich oakmoss... that subtle hint of vetiver combined with orange oil and cedar...

He smirked. "It's the same scent I've used for years... You commented on it once, as I recall, when I was a teen," he said, but she thought she could see a faint tinge of blush on his face.

She blushed as well, remembering the way he'd smelled as a teen. "I remember." It had been nice, especially the few times he'd been close to her. "You never told me what it was called though."

He shrugged, but his eyes narrowed momentarily. "A long time ago, I was given cologne as a gift. I was able to break down its components so I could recreate it...in my Alchemy lesson...we had to take a perfume or a cologne and determine its essential elements and then recreate it."

"Yes," now she remembered. He had told her. "I had the same assignment this year. I chose to do my Mum's Shalimar perfume."

He had an odd look in his eyes, one she couldn't decipher. "By Guerlain?"

"Yes," she said, surprised that he knew. "I used to wear it when I was little. She gave me a bottle so I could...it made me feel a little less homesick when I started Hogwarts. I wore it up through my third year. You know the fragrance?"

His body tensed as he inhaled but then he relaxed slightly. "I am familiar with it, yes. The one I used was also by Guerlain." He looked over her shoulder. "You don't wear it anymore."

"No, only on special occasions," she admitted.

"Lemon verbena and lavender with peppermint," he mumbled softly, almost a whisper, while looking at her hair.

She frowned in confusion before realization dawned on her. "You mean my bath gel and body lotion...you can smell it?"

He smirked at her. "The scents are subtle but discernible to someone who can tell a potion ingredient's potency by both sight and smell," he admitted, then stiffened. "Watch where you are going from now on; ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he said stiffly.

Hermione was confused, one minute they were talking amicably, the next he was cold and taking points for no apparent reason. Suddenly she realized he was not looking at her, but at something...or someone... She turned and saw Draco Malfoy walking down the stairs toward them.

"I expect to see you in my office at eight o'clock tomorrow. Good night, Miss Granger." He nodded to Draco as he approached them. "Mr. Malfoy."

"Professor," Draco said curtly, ignoring Hermione.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word," Professor Snape said, falling into step with Draco and walking away toward the stairs.

Hermione sighed and walked toward the prefect pool for her nightly swim.

---

They had been brewing Amortentia in Potions for days, setting the potion on stasis at the end of each lesson. It would affect the efficacy of the potion, but at least they were learning all the steps. Still, as Hermione added her lovage near the final stages, her potion was already obtaining the mother-of-pearl sheen. Not surprising Harry's potion was too, and Ron's, who'd started copying Harry and using the Half-Blood Princes' book, was a reasonable rich garnet color. It irked her that the boys were cheating, but each time she tried to talk to Harry about it, he only became defensive.

She added the cardamom, stirring thirty times with an added counter stir at the end to stop the whirlpool effect, and put the ground cinnamon in, stirring her potion again fifteen times twice with a counter stir in between, then let it simmer. The steam wafted up slowly, not yet swirling, but her potion seemed to be turning out right. After a whole fifteen minutes, the garnet color turned a deep burgundy red. She added the rock rose petals and the Star-of-Bethlehem essential oil, stirring twelve times, paused, counting off sixty seconds and stirring it twelve times again, letting the potion whirlpool this time. Now all she could do was wait.

The steam seemed to undulate as it rose, shifting. She watched it breathlessly, biting her lip as she waited, praying for it to spiral. Beside her, Harry set down his stirring rod and picked up his book, reading the Half-Blood Prince's annotations on the next few pages as if totally unconcerned about how his potion would turn out.

Ron grimaced as he added the Star-of-Bethlehem essential oil to his potion and began stirring, although a little too vigorously.

"Ron, slow down, smooth strokes or it'll explode," she told him, wanting him to get good marks.

He nodded and slowed down a little, and his potion stopped sputtering.

Finally, a soft swirl caught her attention. It... Is it...? She held her breath, scared to disrupt the steam. Yes! Yes – it is! It's spiraling! She leaned over, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of freshly mowed grass, then the distinctly heavenly smell of parchment and books and... the third scent... The smoky scent of herbs, Ron's cologne...

Ron leaned closer, taking a whiff of her potion. "Blimey Hermione, you got it! New clothes, my mum cooking bacon, and... that flowery perfume you used to wear."

Hermione looked at him and smiled, giving him a one-armed hug and sniffed at him discreetly.

She leaned close to her cauldron and inhaled deeply, waiting for the third scent to come. Freshly mowed grass. Parchment and old books. And... Yes, that heavenly mix of herbs...slightly smoky, amber-like citrus with oakmoss...woody smoke, vetiver... But her smile faded quickly. It was different...off. Ron always smelled of homemade soap...slightly smoky, orange oil, oakmoss and cedar, but the scent from her potion had amber-like citrus, not just orange oil, and it had vetiver notes.

His scent doesn't match! She inhaled her Amortentia again, concentrating on the third scent. Yes, amber-like citrus and cedar...musky, slightly smoky, earthy and rich oakmoss and... vetiver? It's different! She knew this scent...she'd smelled it recently... Her eyes widened in recognition. OHMYGods! Professor Snape? She stepped back, staring at her cauldron in shock. It's Professor Snape's scent!

And she had to see him tonight!

The rest of the day seemed to go by as if in a haze. She got better marks than Harry on her potion, but she was in such shock over her revelation she barely acknowledged Professor Slughorn's praise. In Herbology she was so distracted that the Venomous Tentacula actually ensnared her, and Neville and Professor Sprout had to help free her. Professor Sprout sent her to the hospital to get an anti-venom, and Hermione packed her bag, glad to escape a greenhouse full of dangerous plants when she was still so distracted.

After seeing Madam Pomfrey, Hermione went to the library to search for material for her Alchemy essay and to give her something to concentrate on before dinner. Still, her mind drifted to the enigma that was Severus Snape. There is no mistaking it, she thought as she walked through the corridors, I'm attracted to the way Professor Snape smells. She was certain of it...but what did it mean?

She entered the stacks were the Hermetic principles and theories were located and collided with a stack of floating books, and heard a loud "Oomph," as the books and a student all tumbled to the floor.

The student sat up, running his hand through his hair. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. I couldn't see you," he said the same time Hermione cried out, "Dennis! Oh my god! I didn't see you!"

"Not surprising," he said with a huge grin as he picked up two of his books and set one on top of the other. "Happens all the time actually. I'm short."

She immediately set down her own books and began helping him, pausing to look at the title of one of the books. "Transmutation Theories? Dennis, are you taking Alchemy?"

"Yep," he said as he continued stacking the books up again by size. "And Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, as well as the ones I had last year. I wanted to take Necromancy, too, but McGonagall thought it was too many subjects to take all at once, and I'd have to take Divination, but I didn't much like Professor Trelawney." He leaned in closer to her, adding softly, "She's wonky, but don't tell anyone I said that." He sat back on his heels and placed the last book on his stack. "But, so far I'm keeping up fine...like you! You take all those lessons, too, don't you? I see your name on the lending cards all the time."

Hermione smiled as she helped him to his feet. "I don't take Care of Magical Creatures anymore; I dropped it after my fifth year to concentrate on my other subjects."

"Makes sense, I suppose. I took it because I thought it would be fun...you know, a light optional lesson. Colin's taking the same lessons as Harry and Ron...he wants to be an Auror," Dennis said proudly. "But so far I find Alchemy utterly fascinating." He looked down at his arm as if he could see the scars from the brain through his clothes.

She eyed him speculatively. She remembered the huge bandage that covered his upper arm and shoulder at the end of her fifth...his second year. He was so young, she thought. Too young to have gone off with them...but so brave as well. "What is it, Dennis? Do your scars still bother you?"

He looked up and smiled. "Nah, they don't, not really. Sometimes my shoulder feels tight, but only when I play Quidditch with Colin for too long." He looked at the book on her pile. "Hermione, may I have that when you're done?" he asked in a small voice, pointing to Metaphysical Aspects, Substances and Physical States in her hands.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "It's an advanced text," she said.

Dennis smiled. "I know, but Professor Newton says he's never seen anyone take to the subject like I have, and there is a principle in it that I wanted to review."

Hermione cocked her head, and he smiled at her. "It's on how to bind two chemical elements into a compound, and transforming it into another through a combination of magical and primitive chemistry, then balancing the compound in stasis while changing its structural form into a more purified form. Do you know the principle?"

Hermione nodded. "Bernard Seward Hazleton's theory of binding elements under stasis and then dividing them in a more purified form, leaving the impurities in the magical filter," she said, and began describing the theory as if by mote. Dennis listened raptly, adding in his own thoughts, and soon they were deep in discussion that seemed as natural as when she'd talked about magical theory with Severus.

"Did you know that early Alchemists developed the equipment that is used today in all those chemistry labs?" Colin said, startling Hermione.

She was surprised to see him; she hadn't seen him approach.

"Dennis told me," Colin continued, smiling proudly at his brother. "All that stuff, beakers, crucibles, filters, stirring rods...all invented by magical Alchemists."

"They weren't all wizards, Colin, but many were," Dennis said. "Colin likes hearing about it, but sometimes I find it hard to explain it to him."

"Dennis is going to be purifying mercury, sulfur and arsenic," Colin said, then turned to his brother. "But it's time for dinner. You can't eat books, you know."

"Oh, okay," Dennis said and turned to Hermione. "I really liked talking with you; maybe we can do it again sometime." He picked up his books, Colin taking half, and the brothers hurried over to Madam Pince's desk to check the books out of the library.

Hermione watched them go. Dennis was working on a fifth year project, one she'd done in her second term of school, in his third year. It amazed her. She collected her books, grateful for Dennis' distraction. It had been fun talking to him...he was so knowledgeable, it almost made her feel jealous.

Of course, Ron and Lavender were still lip-locked in the common room, when she went to put away her books, both occupying Lavender's favorite chair over by the windows.

After dinner, Hermione gave up on doing revision in the common room; her mind kept wandering off, mostly on the subject of Professor Severus Snape and her Amortentia Potion. She hurried upstairs to change into her bathing suit under her jeans and blouse, opting for a quick swim before going down to see Severus.

Unfortunately, she bumped into Severus in the corridor on her way to swim, literally colliding into his chest.

"This is getting to be a habit, Miss Granger. One I'd prefer not happening again."

"Sorry, Professor," she stammered, trying...and failing...not to breath in too deeply. "I was... lost in my thoughts." It didn't work; his scent fill her nostrils and muddled her thoughts. But damn it all, he smells good. Bugger.

His eyebrow arched as he examined her. "What's bothering you?"

She wasn't about to tell him that his scent was one of the things that attracted her the most...he'd hex her, or curse her, or simply take an unbelievably huge number of House points from her, because he would think that she was mocking him. In any case, she'd die of embarrassment. "I... I had a conversation with Dennis Creevey today that... I don't know how to put it; it was like those times when we'd sit and talk about..."

"Hush," he snarled as he grabbed her arm. He flung open the door with a wave of his wand and pulled her with him into the prefect bath. As soon as the door closed, he locked it and whirled to face her, his expression angry. "Do not ever mention that where others can hear you."

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just..." Hermione knew she was attracted to Severus: at least according to her Advanced Potions Making. 'That which attracts us the most'...it's Severus...Professor Snape, he is my third scent. She had to think about something else...anything else. "Something about what Dennis said... I'm worried about him."

"Mr. Creevey is fine," Professor Snape said.

"But his arm," she said as she looked up at him, looking up into those dark, intense eyes that, thankfully, were not glaring at her. "He said it doesn't bother him anymore, but just now in the library, he was looking at it rather oddly. And, well, he's incredibly clever; we've discussed things that a first-year of Arithmancy shouldn't have dealt with yet." She looked at his buttons; it was safer. "It's just so surreal, talking with him as if he were in my year. I never realized he was that bloody brilliant."

"He's not," Professor Snape said, his tone softening. "Mr. Creevey was assaulted by the memories from the brain of Mordrid Swithin Wroithesley, the eighteenth century Necromancer and Alchemist."

Hermione nodded; she knew the name. "He's mentioned in the book, Famous Eighteenth-Century Fiends." Professor Snape's eyebrow rose, and she felt the need to elaborate. "I borrowed the book for a project in Alchemy last year."

"Mr. Creevey was able to successfully assimilate the memories of Mr. Wroithesley, a blending if you will," Professor Snape stated, and Hermione gasped.

"Assimilated...as in he has the wizard's memories? But the wizard was demented!"

Professor Snape smirked. "Yes, Wroithesley was, but Mr. Creevey is showing remarkable restraint. Although he has the memories, he seems to be discovering things on his own, although he's quite advanced for his age, as you guessed. Professor McGonagall is watching the boy quite closely, as are Professors Newton and Vector, I assure you. The boy is fine."

Hermione felt relieved. "Too bad it hasn't affected Ron," she said wistfully. He could use a little influence...in the right direction.

"Hasn't it?" Severus asked. "I've seen a remarked difference in his essays as of this year."

Hermione gaped at him. "He has?" All that time in the library... of his own accord? Not because of Lavender? She shook her head. "I'm glad that Ron and Dennis are all right."

He smirked and opened his mouth to reply, but then he paused, closed his mouth as if he'd changed his mind, and he looked at her intently.

She felt her face begin to blush under his scrutiny and dropped her eyes to his chest.

"Well, Miss Granger," he said eventually, "judging by your... attire... it would appear that you were planning on doing your nightly swim before our session this evening."

He cleared his throat, and her eyes jerked back to meet his again. He was still staring at her intently, and she felt the flush deepen in her skin from her chest to her ears. "I'll leave you to your swim. See you at eight o'clock. We will be dueling again, so don't wear yourself out," he said, turning to go. "By the way, ten points for Gryffindor, for your discretion regarding Mr. Creevey."

Hermione smiled as she watched him leave, her heart pounding out an irregular rhythm. When the door closed, she looked at her watch. Damn, she only had half an hour to swim!

~ T. B. .C. ~