Chapter 44

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 Phoenix 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!

The wedding of Tiberius Flint and Catherine Chittenden was a lavish affair, whereas the wedding of Raithe Macrae and Tammorah Merkle the previous week had been a quaint, reasonable ceremony and reception, but neither had been particularly enjoyable. Severus had never really liked weddings. However, his attendance had been expected and thus it was a required obligation.

He had been surprised to see Raithe and his new bride at the Flint wedding, but apparently, Tiberius and Raithe had become friends in the last few months, although Severus still questioned Flint's true loyalty in the war. Elise Chittenden and Drusilla Flint had both thanked him for helping the young couple, although in fact it had been entirely Augusta Longbottom and Niharika Patil who'd intervened on the young people's behalf. However, both pairs of newlyweds looked happy, even with everything else that was going on.

Raithe, Duane Hartshorne and Grantham Thortenson had approached him at both weddings, giving Severus updates on what they knew, which didn't amount to too much, except for some vague warnings on planned Muggle Attacks. So far, even though Hermione and her friends were on the 'hit lists' none of them had been attacked. Apparently the Ministry wards and those added by the Order and their families were holding up.

"Raymond and Serena are married now," Raithe said softly before taking a sip from his flute, his eyes following Tammorah Merkle and Grantham Thortenson on the dance floor. "I heard they are still at the beach house."

Severus moved his head minutely to acknowledge the statement.

The boy angled his body toward Severus while at the same time maintaining the appearance of watching his wife dance. "Grantham took the Mark," Raithe said a bit louder, as if proud for his friend, but Severus knew better; neither Grantham nor Raithe had had a choice. "His father, Mr. Hartshorne and my dad all stood for him. Bletchey and Bole are due to join the werewolf hit squad, even though we're supposed to be friendly with the vermin."

Severus's mouth drew back in a slight smile, knowing that he'd have to pass this information on to Lupin. "And you?"

"Duane, Grantham, Flint and I won't find out our assignments until next month, but rumor has it we'll be under Runcorn."

Severus smiled, then lowered his voice considerably, "Be sure that you keep an eye on a Metamorphmagus witch in the Aurory, she could be of some import. You'll recognize her by her ridiculous pink hair color."

"So, not hard to miss then," Raithe said with a smirk. "Friend or foe?" he asked softly behind his flute.

"Friend," Severus very softly, then, with a curt nod, he walked away casually. He socialized for another hour, then slipped away and returned to the castle.

Severus changed from his formal robes and used the mirrors to contact Dumbledore. "Where are you?" Severus asked without preamble as soon as the old wizard's right eye and nose could be seen. "I have your potion. If you don't take it, the curse will spread."

"Ah, Severus, good to see you, my boy," the mirror said in Dumbledore's voice. "I'm afraid that the curse will have me all in good time, all in good time."

"Better later than sooner, don't you think, or would you like me to do away with you now?" Severus asked. The ever dreaded and despised 'request,' reinforced by his Vow to Lily half a life ago, still grated on his nerves, almost as much as the old fart's nonchalance regarding his treatments. "Daily, Headmaster, or may I remind you that skipping doses cancels all efforts in keeping the curse in a slow progress towards your heart."

"Yes, yes, I shall meet with you briefly," Dumbledore replied. "Use the Floo in my office and come to the Ivy House in Bangor-on-Dee. This week, I'm particularly fond of Aniseed Balls."

Those awful things? Severus grabbed the vial of potion and left immediately. Fawkes greeted him with a happy trill when he entered the office. "So, not crying over the old man tonight?" he asked the bird. "Don't suppose you'd shed any tears for me?" he asked and was surprised when Fawkes ducked his head once and ruffled his wings.

Severus pulled out a vial and showed it to the bird. Fawkes angled his head as he leaned forward slightly. Severus held up the vial and deftly caught the offered tears, amazed by the gift. When Fawkes felt he'd shed enough of them, the phoenix sat up and fluffed his plumage as he resettled on his perch. "Thank you," Severus said softly, stoppering the precious tears. "I'll use them well."

Fawkes made a loud 'C-werp' and closed his eyes.

Severus, feeling dismissed, traveled through the Floo to his destination. He arrived at the small cottage and gruffly greeted the older wizard, sitting comfortably in a chintz wingback chair. "Isn't this a bit of a risk?" he asked as he swished his wand to dust off the ash from his robes. "I've heard that the Dark Lord has placed a few of his followers in the Ministry. I warned you that he will take control of the magical transportation departments first."

"We shall not be here for very long," Dumbledore said, taking the flask and drinking the potion.

Severus hoped the new potion would counter the effects. If not...well... He looked at the shriveled hand. "Miles Bletchey and Cameron Bole are to join the werewolf hit squad. Four of the students in my Slytherin group are to be assigned to Runcorn and may end up in the Aurory or another hit squad," he said and listed off their names. He didn't tell him he'd told Raithe to make contact with Tonks; he wanted to talk to her personally about it first. He told Dumbledore the rest of news he'd gained at the reception, most of it inconsequential in his opinion.

As he spoke, he'd pushed up the Headmaster's sleeve. Severus frowned as he examined the darkened forearm while Dumbledore forcefully gulped down the last of his potion. This is not good. The shriveled and blackened tissues extended several inches up the forearm and the streaking tendrils of the curse stretched up to the elbow. I'd guess he has only four months if he doesn't start listening to Poppy and me.... "The curse is already up to your elbow," Severus observed, then made the coffee table grow taller with a pointed jab of his wand.

Dumbledore gently set the arm on the table. "Yes," he said sadly. "It makes it rather hard to bend my arm."

Severus used his Drawing-Darkness Counter-Curse, drawing the curse down the forearm, pulling at the evil he could sense through the spell, forcing the tar-like ooze to fall into the empty vial that had held the potion. He managed to extract about four tablespoons of the vile pus into the vial, although not nearly enough. But the good news was that the pus fizzed where it contacted with what little amounts of the potion had remained in the glass vial. A hopeful, positive sign.

"How much time do I have?"

The resolved tone made Severus look up, feeling a surge of disgust. "At this progression I'd say it will reach your shoulder sometime in mid to late April...unless you take your doses regularly and at the same hour every night, then it will likely reach your heart by the end of May," he stated. "So if this final battle is to happen, I suspect it will be this spring..."

"I'm not ready to have Harry face Voldemort," Dumbledore stated, ignoring Severus' sharp hiss.

"You mean the boy isn't ready?" Severus asked with mock incredulity. "He's not likely get to any more ready than any of his other encounters have been. What would be the difference?"

Dumbledore smiled as he pulled down his sleeve. "There are things Harry must know, and things I must do, Severus, to prepare him to face Tom Riddle. We simply must hold out until he is of age when he reaches his magical maturity and comes into his full powers."

"You honestly think you'll hold out that long?" Severus asked, looking at him as if he were delusional before quickly controlling his features once more. "So you hope to stall the Dark Lord until August?"

"That is my hope..."

"Then you might want to take your treatments a bit more seriously, because as things stand, you will not be here to see him come of age," Severus stated angrily as he rose to leave.

"I will not see Harry come into his own, I know this," Dumbledore said softly, making Severus pause. "It will fall to the others to see this through."

"You expect me to..."

"Take control of the school. I believe that Tom will appoint you, his trusted informant, as Headmaster after I am gone," Dumbledore stated.

"Be Headmaster...are you insane? I will be thrown into Azkaban without a trail...if I'm not given the Kiss! That is all that killing you will achieve," Severus sneered. "Then my vow to you and Lily will have been for naught and the boy will fall into danger."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "Harry will have Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger with him to look out for him." He looked up at Severus steadfastly. "Fudge and Umbridge greatly weakened the Ministry's defenses and the infiltration of the Death Eaters and their supporters progresses steadily...his influence is already growing stronger. The Ministry will fall, and as soon as that happens, I'm afraid that Tom will take over the school governors and the school quite easily."

Severus crossed his arms as he glared at the old man. "Do you really think that the Dark Lord will give me control of the school?"

"Do you really believe that Tom will not make you Headmaster of his school?" Dumbledore countered.

"He has long coveted being in control of Hogwarts," Severus countered back. "He wanted the Defense post, cursed it if I'm to believe you, because you didn't give it to him all those years ago."

"He wants access to Hogwarts, not the responsibility," Dumbledore stated patiently. "You are his logical choice, Head of Slytherin House and one of the few that Tom trusts to see to his interests done. You are also the only Death Eater the current school governors will consider as a candidate, if he doesn't dispense with all of them."

"Alecto Carrow..."

"Is a governess, not a Hogwarts professor for fifteen years with fifteen years experience as Head of House and primed by me," Dumbledore stated. "Minerva will, unfortunately, be bypassed; her loyalty to me and her age will be held against her. But you must protect her, Severus, you must protect them all."

Severus was unsettled by the revelation, but he did not allow it to show. He stood. "Be in the hospital tomorrow at eight, every night, or the failure will be yours," he said sharply and turned to leave. Severus used the Floo and returned to the castle in the early morning hours and walked to the owlery to send a message to Tonks to meet him in Hogsmeade early the following morning, knowing that few of the Dark Lord's followers were early risers.

Hermione was so glad to be back at school. The lessons, the constant new discovery of what was possible with magic, being taught things she once thought to be utterly impossible, really thrilled her. But the most exciting was the discovery of Apparition, transrelocation as her parents would say, being able to instantaneously leap from one place to another simply because she determined that was where she wanted to be was a heady thought, and all it took, apparently, was to visualize in her mind a destination and deliberately go there. All it took was determination and deliberate action and voila...you're in a new location. Oh, yes, Hermione couldn't wait until they started Apparition lessons!

Of course she'd read everything she could on the theory. Now if she could only find any reference at all on what a Horcrux was or what it did, that would be great, or find any reference to a magical prince, one that was a half-blood no less. She'd even tried sussing out if maybe they were related to any of the royals, but it seemed that members of the royal families never developed magical powers.

Hermione stood in the corridor deciding which to do first, find Professor Snape or swim. She absolutely had to see him on this night of all nights, regardless if he was busy on something or not, and she'd been so busy in the library trying to determine who the thrice damned bloody Half-Blood Price was or for any information at all on Horcruxes, to no avail, that she'd lost track of time. Deciding that she could forgo swimming for one night, she turned and headed for the dungeons, not wanting to be trapped down there late at night. She only hoped he was still in his office, because if he was somewhere else... She shook her head. No, he had to still be here.

She passed Draco and Goyle on the stairs leading down to the fourth floor. Draco snarled at her, his usual disdain of, "Watch it, Mudblood," echoed by Goyle's, "Yeah, watch it, Mudblood."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if I take up the entire staircase like you two do," she quipped and made to hurry away from them, but paused and turned to watch them instead. Goyle spotted her, scowling fiercely at her, before Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. Hermione walked back up a few steps and saw them disappear down the corridor. She wondered where Draco was going. He wasn't a prefect anymore, so technically he wasn't supposed to be using the prefects' bath, and Goyle wasn't allowed to use it. According to the school rules, it was reserved only for prefects and team captains, as a perk. There wasn't anything but classrooms on the fifth floor; the library was on the third floor and the hospital on the first...

Shrugging, she turned around slowly and proceeded down to the dungeons, contemplating where Draco and Goyle could be going on the fifth floor. Besides two loos and the prefects' bath, there wasn't anywhere logical that they could be going to. Ravenclaw tower is on the west side of the castle and the Astronomy Tower on the... but it's not logical that they'd be headed to the Astronomy Tower together, unless they were both meeting girls up there. She immediately tried to dismiss the unpleasant thought of the pair of them, each engaging with their girlfriends at the same time... No. Too appalling to think about.

When she reached the dungeons, she walked confidently up to Professor Snape's door and knocked, hoping he was still in his office. The door across the corridor opened, startling her. "Hi, I, er, just wanted to see you. Do you have a moment?"

He turned his head, looking at the room behind him, then turned to stare at her again. "I have a moment," he said and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. "In my office."

Hermione followed him, wondering if he had someone in their training room, then dismissed the idea. It didn't matter really. It could be another student having trouble with their Surges, but she dismissed that idea as well...he'd told her she had been the only student he'd worked with on controlling their magic... and he wouldn't use the room for a detention? But whatever it was, it didn't really concern her.

He opened his door and ushered her inside. "What is it, Miss Granger."

She dug into her bag and pulled out a rather crumpled package, wishing she'd cast a protection spell on the wrapping, and a small, gaily wrapped box. "Happy Birthday."

He stood unmoving, his eyes searching her face, his arms crossed. She extended her gift toward him, urging him to take the packages, and he tentatively accepted the gifts. She waited, watching him apprehensively as he stood there holding them.

"Oh, of all the... sit, if we have to do this, now," he snapped, and she smiled at his embarrassment.

She sat down in the chair that faced his desk as he took the seat next to her. Hermione bit her lip as he set the box down and began to open up the crumpled gift. He looked up at her. "Don't bite your lip."

She smiled. "I just..."

"I know," he said and pulled out the knitted scarf. It was black with tiny speckles of green and blue made out of a soft Peruvian highland wool and superfine Alpaca blend.

"I made it," she said, stating the obvious. She hoped he liked it; the crisscross basket weave and cabled edging had been difficult at first, and the scarves, one for Professor Snape and one for her father, had taken her a week straight.

He sat there holding the scarf in his hands, his right thumb stroking the luxurious wool, his expression guarded. He set it carefully on his desk (the action in of itself telling her he did like it) and opened the other gift.

Hermione waited as he opened the box of votive candles. "It's sea breeze," she said as he picked up a blue votive. "I thought it would make your room smell nice." She blushed, hoping he didn't think she thought his room would smell bad...the bedding he'd brought her when she'd slept in his potions room three years ago hadn't smelled bad at all, they had smelled like him. "They will turn liquid, so you have to burn them in a votive holder..." But if he doesn't have one, "or a small cup, I suppose."

He nodded and set it aside. "Thank you."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome."

Neither spoke, and he didn't move or indicate she had to leave. Hermione glanced at the bookshelf and then back at him. "How was your Christmas? I haven't had the chance to ask."

"I was here," he stated, but he didn't elaborate any further.

"We stayed at home for most of the time. Decorated a tree, baked, and mum taught me some new knitting patterns... It was nice to see them and have a normal Christmas." She looked up at him through her fringe.

He simply watched her as if he didn't have anything to say to that. She wondered if maybe his Christmas had been boring or unpleasant, and he didn't wish to talk about it.

She smiled again and changed the subject. "I read all the reading material on your list."

His lips curved back into a bemused smile. "I'm hardly surprised. I will try to schedule time to work with you, but I don't know when. The thing is to practice and focus."

"I already can do a few things," she stated, glad to have a subject to talk about. She turned and faced the bookshelf, concentrating on focusing her intent on one particular book on his shelf, centering her determination to have the book come to her and said the Summoning Charm silently in her mind. The book wiggled, slid toward slightly and then sailed to her outstretched hand as if jumping at her. She caught it and turned to face him. "I can send it across the room as well, but not with the precision to put it back on the shelf properly."

He stood and backed away from her. "Send it to me," he instructed.

Hermione held the book up, focusing her intent to send the book to him while nonverbally saying the Repelling Charm in her mind with all her determination she possessed. She felt her magic surge, and for a moment wavered, then centered her focus on her desired aim again, smiling as the book shot from her hand as if she'd thrown it at him, only her arm was still fully extended. She grinned triumphantly. "I can move larger objects, too, like a chair."

He nodded, but she could see the approving glint in his eyes. Her smile widened. "I can light candles, and even a fire in the fireplace...I did that at home. And I can levitate the cushions as well as the sofa, I did that, too. But I couldn't repair a glass I dropped, though. I had to use my wand."

"Then that is where we'll start," he said, his expression thoughtful. "Plan on spending part of this weekend with me, I'll let you know what time, and we'll work on a few of your rudimentary spells."

Hermione grinned happily. "Okay, this weekend. I'll brush up on all my first and second year spells," she said.

He chuffed a laugh. "I'll make you a list," he said and walked up to her. "Put my book back before you go."

She took the book and put it on the shelf as asked.

"Thank you, Hermione," Severus said softly as he walked her to the door.

"You're welcome. I hope your birthday was pleasant," she said as he opened the door.

He lowered his head, but she could see a lopsided smile from between the curtains of his hair as he said, "It has been," and thought he might have even blushed.

"Good night, sir," she said and hurried away, certain that he liked her gifts.

"How are you doing with your nonverbal spells in Charms and Transfiguration?" Professor Snape asked. He was leaning against a desk in an unused classroom on the first floor.

There was an assortment of objects thrown haphazardly around the walls of the room, mostly left where they'd landed when Hermione had demonstrated her ability to levitate and move objects wandlessly. The boot, large beanbag poof, crate and the thick oak log had been easiest; the long sofa, heavy wood table and steamer trunk of bricks had not, mostly because he had insisted that she set them down properly. Likewise, conjuring fire was easy, and her precision with smaller objects had improved, although she'd had a trouble reshelving the books in their proper place in the library. However, she still couldn't properly repair the glass bottle to its original form, though, no matter how hard she tried. And she couldn't alter its shape.

"I can manage most of my first through third year spells nonverbally...well, the one's I've tried, that is," she said. "We are reviewing complex transformation spells in Transfiguration with larger animals. I've managed to change my rock into a pug once nonverbally and can make a stick turn into a fish. But to animate them, I had to verbalize what I wanted."

He stroked his lip with his thumb, and she found herself mesmerized by the small action. "Miss Granger, stop staring at me," he said.

She quickly looked away, trying to hide her discomfort. He'd never liked being watched, she knew that.

"Because of your encounter in France, your wandless abilities are strongest in direction spells, which, if you get powerful enough, will serve you well in a defensive situation. Conception spells are harder since you're used to using a wand as your conduit, and all you had to do was focus on your intent with sufficient determination and visualize what you wanted to happen. So, let's try deflection spells."

Hermione swallowed, it was hard enough defending herself against him with a wand, now he was suggesting she face him unarmed! "All right," she said, inhaling deeply in her resolve to do her best.

Professor Snape chuffed a laugh as he wandlessly summoned the boot. "I'm not going to hex you, I'm going to toss an object at you, silly girl," he said as he caught the boot with one hand. "I want you to use magic to keep it from hitting you."

She watched in amazement as he transfigured the boot into a cricket ball. He casually tossed it in the air, then caught it as if he played the sport. "Have you ever played cricket?" she asked. She'd tried playing cricket at primary school, but she had not been any good at it. She had been so terrified of being hit by the hard, leather ball that she had frequently ducked out of the way when it had been thrown or hit towards her.

"No, of course not," he said, his face actually scrunched fractionally as if offended. "I've seen a game, naturally, but I'm not a follower of the sport." He quickly resumed his teaching mode again. "You are quite adept at defending yourself with a wand; the principle is the same, reaction with determined intent to halt the object or push it away before it hits you." One side of his mouth curved back as he lofted the ball and caught it again. "Ready?"

She inhaled as she braced herself. "Ready."

He chuffed a laugh again as he lobbed the ball at her. She tried to deflect it, but her magic didn't flow and the ball landed at her feet. She cursed at herself as he summoned the ball back to him.

"Pitiful. Try again. This time focus."

He lobbed the ball at her again, harder this time. She tried to do the Deflection Charm, but as the ball came at her, her concentration faltered and she caught it instead. He scowled as she tossed it back at him, but he deflected it, making the ball fly to the wall to his right instead. "I said deflect it, we're not playing catch," he said as he made the ball fly back to his hand.

Three more tries, and she'd only managed to cast the Deflection Charm once, but not in time to stop the ball from bouncing off her abdomen. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I can't do this?"

"You're not reacting quickly enough. Stop over thinking it and just do it." He smirked and drew back his arm.

Her eyes widened in surprise as he threw the ball at her full force. She only had a second to think, No! Deflectere, as she moved her hands to cover her face, and her magic surged inside her, seemingly to pulse away from her out of control. The ball rebounded away from her and shot directly at Professor Snape. He easily deflected the ball, making it bounce off the wall to her left.

"There, you did it," he stated, a cocky grin on his face as she gaped at him in astonishment. Suddenly a small chime sounded in his pocket, like an egg timer. "Now go and analyze how you did it for our next session. I have to go." He quickly strode for the door.

Hermione snatched her robe off the floor and hurried after him. "Go where?" she asked, following him into the corridor.

"I have a potion to attend to," he replied, moving quickly.

"May I come?" she asked, almost running to keep up with his long stride.

"If you must," he replied as he descended the stairs, and she practically ran down the stairs after him. He led her to his personal lab.

As Professor Snape approached the worktable and began chopping a hornbeam root, Hermione examined the blackboard. The directions on the left she recognized as a pain potion, but he'd added anti-inflammation ingredients and mandrake root extract... The one on the right was a potion generally used for concussions, but Professor Snape had written stinging nettle, oatstraw, red clover, and comfrey in between the lines... all protein-rich herbs.

But the center potion, which took up two thirds of the space, looked like a page of his old potions book; the base potion had a second, very similar potion written alongside it with arrows and lesser or greater marks drawn between the lines, as if he thought one line in the directions were better than the other. Additional ingredients were written in any available space, some with arrows or crossed out. There were added comments between the lines and on the top and bottom of the board and even crossing the dividing lines of the other potions, and there were smudges where he'd erased something... He even had sticky notes in places with Arithmancy equations on them. It was the most complicated amalgam of directions she'd ever seen, even by his standards.

She focused on the ingredients. "You're creating a healing potion?" she asked, realizing that most of the ingredients were similar to the ones they were using in Potions. Only this didn't look like an antidote...

"Did you wish to help me or simply stare at my notes?" Professor Snape asked.

"Help!" she said, pushing her sleeves up as she turned around.

"Then come over here and add the bromelain extract, then grind up the white willow bark," he directed, indicating the potion on his left.

Hermione dropped her robe on a stool and got to work immediately, thrilled to be able to brew with him again.

Hermione entered the library and sighed as she saw Won-Won and Lav-Lav sitting at her favorite table. Won-Won was spending most of his revision periods actually revising, or trying to, when Lavender would untangle herself from around him. The only times she saw them sitting properly in chairs, one chair each instead of trying to occupy one chair together, were the times that she'd spotted them in the library, an occurrence that was happening more frequently so far this term. She was glad that Ron was applying himself more academically, but she missed reviewing his essays for him in the common room. Harry sat across from them, reading a book with his head propped up in his hand and trying to avoid looking at the pair.

Hermione chose a quiet corner to sit. She was still angry with Harry over cheating in Potions, but for the last three weeks, Harry had stumbled through Potions just like everyone else since he had not been able to simply cheat and pull out a bezoar! Every Monday they had to actually try breaking down a potion into its separate components to identify the potion's ingredients. Then they were expected to use logical deduction and intuition to deduce which ingredient or ingredients would transform the disparate elements into an antidote, which they had to brew on Thursday. Hermione had had a very nasty one last week; she'd separated out fifty-three ingredients, but the one the previous week only had thirty-nine ingredients.

And Harry wasn't the shining star anymore, either. Hermione felt sorry for him, but that's what cheaters got. In their second lesson, Harry had failed miserably. Professor Slughorn had leaned forward to check Harry's potion, then had backed away hastily, coughing as he'd fanned his hand in front of his face. Served him right, but that didn't mean she wanted him to fail. As soon as Harry had admitted he was sunk, Hermione explained the principles of Golpalott's Third Law to try and help him, and Harry spent hours with Hermione reviewing how to properly separate the components and the appropriate spellwork. After that, he was actually doing much better identifying the potion's ingredients, but he was rubbish at creating antidotes.

Not that Professor Slughorn bothered to notice...he kept giving Harry full marks without even bothering to examine Harry's antidote too closely.

And unfortunately, Harry still hadn't obtained the full version of Slughorn's memory since Harry's botched attempt to talk to Professor Slughorn the last time; the more Harry tried to speak to him, the more Professor Slughorn avoided him. Slughorn would look at Hermione's workstation and smile, then sidestep Harry altogether and move over to Ron's. That and Professor Slughorn would not give Harry the opportunity to talk to him after each lesson, and he'd not been available to talk to Harry during his office hours either. Not good...Harry needed that memory.

The potion Professor Slughorn had given Hermione this week wasn't too much of a mystery; she'd read about it in a periodical while searching for the elusive and annoyingly ambiguous Half-Blood Prince. The poison, although complex, was created in a base of poison ivy, poison oak, poison sumac and kettlefish venomous spines in rainwater. It was one of the rare times Golpalott's Ninth Law applied where multiple ingredients shared the same neutralizing ingredients, in this case mugwort and milkweed; the antidote was simply the ingredient or ingredients infused with a bezoar. So she'd been able to brew the antidote easily enough. She'd simmered a bezoar in her base for half the lesson, then added mugwort, milkweed, powdered moonstone and honey.

Hermione checked her revision guide. Since she had her Arithmancy and Herbology assignments finished, she decided to forgo reviewing the composition book she had for Defense, which also had her notes on wandless magic in the back, and pulled out the journal dedicated to the 'lessons' Harry had with Dumbledore, if that's what they could be called. In it she'd listed all the facts Dumbledore told Harry about Tom Marvolo Riddle.

In Harry's first session he'd told her about the Gaunts and the Riddles, and a locket supposedly belonging to Salazar Slytherin, and Marvolo's ring...Voldemort stole Marvolo's ring...the one that supposedly had the Peverell coat of arms on it. Hermione looked it up. Only wizards don't have coats of arms...they don't live in a feudal system or have titled nobility. Odd. She tapped her quill to her lips.

She saw Draco leaving the stacks and lowered her head, but watched him slyly as he walked toward her. However, he was engrossed in a book. He snapped the book closed as he passed her, and Hermione got a glimpse at the title, or part of the title; the first part of the first word was, Carp, and beneath it was Charming, something beginning with a Ma, possibly magic, then –inetry... his fingers were in the way. Charming Magical Cabinetry, possibly. She'd always been really good at guessing the word puzzles on Wheel of Fortune. Carp... as in something to do with cabinets. Carpentry...?

"Want something, Granger?" he sneered at her.

She jolted at the question. "No."

"Well then stop staring at me, Mudblood," he snarled and walked away.

Hermione shrugged and opened her journal to the pages on wandless magic. So what if he wants to charm his wardrobe? That's his business. She turned her thoughts to her own project.

So far, Professor Snape had only had one more lesson with her on doing wandless defensive spells. Naturally after their last lesson, Hermione had analyzed every minute aspect of her actions and why she'd only been able to do the spell when she was frightened the ball would hit her. He'd explained how wandless conception spells were done and had her practice repairing or transfiguring small objects like a vase or a boot, concentrating on controlling what she was doing. She replayed the conversation in her mind:

The potato now looked like a lumpy slipper made out of a potato peel. She felt utterly incompetent. "I feel like I'm Surging again," Hermione said as she looked up at him.

"Yes, it will," he replied definitively, which didn't really reassure her. "The larger the object, the greater the desired effect or desired action is, the more magical energy is needed. Without a conduit focus, such as your wand, the energy isn't channeled through a magical object, enhancing it, such as the magical core of the wand will do, so therefore all the energy comes from you."

In a sense, if she simply trusted herself, set her determination and intent firmly enough and trusted her magical ability, then she found she could do the rudimentary charms easily enough, but transfiguration spells were immensely harder. Focus, determination and control while releasing her magic... She'd been practicing in the Room of Requirement with Ginny, whenever the room would open for her. The thing was, sometimes the room was quite obstinate, as if the castle didn't want her doing wandless magic or teaching herself the techniques, which didn't make any sense since the room had been so helpful last year, even providing tons of defense books and everything they'd asked for as well as anticipating things they'd needed.

She closed her journal and sighed. She wished Professor Snape would make another appointment with her. She'd thought of doing something reckless and getting a detention, but that was just being childish. She wondered if he was still working on the complicated potion on the blackboard in his lab. If not, then whatever he was working on had to be important or, quite possibly, he was doing something for the Order. Either way, each time she'd tried to talk to him after her Defense lessons, he'd briskly told her he didn't have any time and to go to her next lesson.

Hermione looked around her to see if anyone was watching her or paying her any attention at all and smiled. She chose a book on a high shelf and summoned it to her wandlessly. The book slipped out and fell to her hand. Grinning, she held up the book in her hand and made it float up to the shelf and back into place. She was getting quite competent with those two spells, even on larger objects. So, now to work on transfiguring objects and casting shields... Can you do the shield charms wandlessly, or must you have a conduit focus to create one? she wondered. If I can deflect, I should be able to shield, right? Not that she was at all adept at wandless deflection spells yet, either.

She really wanted to work with Professor Snape again.

Hermione went down to the dungeons after her swim. She'd purposefully chosen to swim earlier than normal so that she could talk to Severus before curfew. As she approached his office, the door opened and about seventeen Slytherins walked out into the corridor. She immediately recognized Boughton, Nott and Tracie. Tracie said something to Candice, who turned and giggled. A few of the other girls turned and laughed softly as well.

Hermione paused; it was never good to be alone in the dungeon corridors this late at night, especially when Slytherins were strolling about.

Aubrey and Higgs, seventh-year Slytherins, gave her rueful smirks, and Higgs elbowed the boy in front of him. The boy turned, and Urguhart chuffed a laugh. "We're not going to hex you, Granger," he called out, rolling his eyes.

Aubry put his arm around Penelope as the group walked away, a few of them laughing or making comments Hermione couldn't quite make out.

Rayne Boughton turned around as his friends continued to walk down the corridor. "He's not in his office," Boughton stated. "He left through his Floo."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you," she called out, watching them walk away for a bit before turning and heading out of the dungeons, wondering where Professor Snape would have Flooed to at this hour.

She had no other choice; she needed to have access to the Restricted Section. She simply didn't have a good reason to be in there...well, she did, but not one she could talk to Professor Snape about. This assignment Harry had, of securing the memory from Slughorn about the Horcruxes, was going nowhere, and Hermione knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was really important...and secret.

The Restricted Section held all the Dark Arts books, wicked and cruel magical spells and curses, the most horrifying magical inventions... but it was possibly the only place that she could find out what a Horcrux was and what it did.

She knocked on his office door and waited for him to call out, "Enter." She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"What is it, Miss Granger? I'm very busy," he said without looking up.

She walked forward and stood before his desk. "Sir, I would like to ask you... I have a request," she stammered.

He looked up at her, but she could see he wasn't in the best of moods. "Get to the point quickly," he said, his quill poised over the parchment he'd been grading.

"I have a project I'm working on, actually, Harry and I are working on," his eyes narrowed at the mention of Harry's name, so she forged ahead, remembering to keep Harry's name out of it, "but I cannot find the answer I need in the books in the library. So..."

He set the quill down as he regarded her. She inhaled to calm her nerves. "I would like permission to use the Restricted Section."

"What is it you are working on?" he asked.

She bit her lip as she thought about the best way to phrase her reasoning.

"I see," he said smoothly. "Is this anything to do with Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh, no, sir!" she exclaimed.

"Or some harebrained escapade adventure in the castle, meddling into something you have no business being involved with?" he asked, staring at her directly in the eyes.

"No, sir!" she replied, meeting his stare. "I...we ran across a spell that I can't find any reference to. I believe it to be a Dark Art spell of some sort, but wondered what it was and what it did."

"I see," he drawled out slowly, lacing his fingers together. "And what, prey tell, is this Dark spell."

Her heart sank. She was certain that this was a secret, well, a need-to-know type of thing between Harry and Dumbledore, that he'd told her and Ron, when they were still getting along. "Well, you see, it's..."

"Yes," he intoned in his deep silky voice.

Normally that tone sent a warning chill through her, but for some reason the chill was oddly stimulatingly... sexy even. She shook her head mentally, dispelling the idea. He's your teacher! "Well, it has something to do with what Dumbledore and Harry are doing in their meetings. Something that was mentioned, and Harry asked me if I'd read about it...but I haven't. So, I've been searching through all the books, in my spare time, to find it, and I can't." There that's close enough to the truth.

"And you are not going to tell me what this is?" he asked, his eyes seemingly to bore into hers.

She bit her lip as she shook her head. "I... the thing is, well... Dumbledore kind of told Harry in private. It has to do with his facing," she suddenly remembered not to say Voldemort around him, "You-Know-Who. You know, this Chosen One thing, and the fact that You-Know-Who seems to have a personal animosity toward him and this connection with Harry... I...it might have something to do with Harry's scar." There, not exactly the truth, but close enough so that she wasn't exactly lying to him. She hated not being able to ask him...to talk to him about it. He knew so much about the Dark Arts, he'd probably know what Horcruxes were.

"And I'm to assume that you are only interested in the definition and effect of this spell, academic research only. You have no intention of using the spell" he asked pointedly.

"Oh gods, no, sir! Never," she replied emphatically, shaking her head. "I only want to know what it is and what it does."

He sat there watching her, and she resisted the urge to fidget under his intense stare. She'd said enough, hopefully reassuring him it was academic curiosity only.

He leaned back and opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pad of six by four parchments. He picked up the quill in his inkwell stand and dipped it into the black ink. She waited, almost giddy with happiness that he was going to honor her request.

He looked up at her after placing his quill back in its little holder. "As far as anyone is concerned, this is a personal request pertaining to your Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, and you are being supervised by me," he said and handed her the permission slip.

"Yes, Professor," she agreed, accepting the slip. "I'll be discreet."

Severus watched Hermione go. He knew that while she wasn't being completely forthright with him, she hadn't been lying either. He could read her well, and he knew that whatever spell Potter had mentioned to her, her curiosity was purely academic.

He wondered what the spell was.

It didn't matter. He'd be notified which book or books Hermione checked out, and from there he might be able to discern that which intrigued her and Potter. At last he'd have an insight in what was going on in those private meetings between Dumbledore and Potter.

With a satisfied smirk, he resumed his markings.

Hermione slammed the cover of Darkest Magick of the Ages closed and set it on top of Ye Horrific Enchantments and Beguilements. She opened up Magick Moste Evile and turned to the index.

"Harridan Curse... Heart-Horns Hex... Heart-Rending Curse...Hindrance Curse see Retardation Jinx..." she mumbled softly as she scanned down the list. "Horcrux! There it is!" In the index...? That's odd.

She flipped all the pages over and began to scan through the index. There, in the fourth page of the introduction, was one sentence, '...of the Horcurx, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction, for it is a most foul invention that must never be mentioned.' "That's it?" she hissed, turning the pages forcefully to the index.

Horcrux ............................ page xiii

Hermione slammed the book closed. She'd been through every book in the Dark Arts Charms and Curses sections in Restricted Section. The only way they would find out what a Horcurx was would be for Harry to get the complete memory from Professor Slughorn.

She had to show this to Harry.

Hermione put away all the other books and carried Magick Moste Evile up to Madam Pince's desk.

~ T. B. .C. ~