Chapter 49

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Also, no money made either...just for fun. Once again, what events that are not mentioned that happen in the books is as it happened in the books.

I have made a few deviations from canon, but the events that are not mentioned in this story that happen in the books remain as they happened in the books. Warning: as we know, it's getting to that time – there is a Character Death and Violence in this chapter as we near the end of Hermione's sixth year. Sorry about that.

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 and FrankQ 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!

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Severus strode down the sixth floor corridor looking for Draco. Altheda had said he'd passed her frame on the fifth floor, but Lady Violet, who was carrying messages to him from both the Fat Lady and Rosalba, had said the ladies had not seen him from their frames on the seventh floor, so Draco was somewhere between the sixth and seventh floors. Severus flicked his wand at each classroom, making the door open forcefully as he cast a revealing charm on the room, then he secured the door as it slammed closed. To his vexation, each room was dark and unoccupied. There was no indication that the boy was anywhere.

He turned heel and strode down the corridor, stopping at the bottom of the stairs on the landing, ignoring the few students that passed as they scurried up the stairs to the seventh floor. There was no point checking the fifth floor, unless the boy had doubled back down from another staircase. He considered searching the seventh floor again and then dismissed it. He'd already checked it and, like the sixth floor, found nothing amiss.

Out of habit he hurried down to the fifth floor and strode purposefully along the corridor, checking the various rooms on the way. He mounted the stairs to the Astronomy Tower two at a time, forcing himself to remain calm the more his frustration grew. He thrust open the door as he stepped out and looked around, but saw no one.

He walked to the wide-set crenellations, placed his hands on the rough stone and hung his head. He'd asked Mr. Boughton to try to befriend Draco since he was in the same year as Draco and Mr. Boughton's father was a devout Death Eater. Likewise, he'd asked Miss Rushbridge to try and befriend Misses Parkinson and Bulstrode. But neither seemed able to gain their dorm mates confidences, and therefore, they were no help with his predicament.

Mr. Nott was still keeping mostly to himself, but then he was a shy swot. However, he didn't seem to have his father's prejudices or share his family's blind loyalty to the Dark Lord. Misses Longacre and Davis were distancing themselves from Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode, now that Misses Parkinson and Bulstrode had became more vocal about their loyalties to the Dark Lord, although he'd seen Misses Longacre and Davis with Misses Greengrass and Rushbridge on occasion.

He looked up and gazed at the outline of the mountains and the dark, forbidding forest. A Thestral rose up above the trees, followed by another. And such too is the grandeur of the dooms, we have imagined for the mighty dead, he silently quoted John Keats*, his favorite poet.

The skeletal horses dodged each other, turned on their wings playfully before one dropped below the trees. The solitary Thestral made one last wide circle over the treetops before descending from view.

He shivered. Spring was late this year; he could feel the crisp evening wind ruffle his hair and it chilled him.

Some shape of beauty moves the pall from our dark spirits. Such is the sun, the moon, trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon, he thought, turning his back to the forest as he crossed his arms. All lovely tales that we have heard or read: An endless fountain of immortal drink.* Except he was far from immortal. The Dark Lord claimed to be thus protected, having devised by some magic the protection of his new corporeal body, but Severus had his doubts. Some things even magic couldn't achieve, regardless of Dumbledore's conviction to the contrary.

One way or another Severus knew his time at the school was coming to an end; he'd be surprised if it lasted to the end of the school year. If he didn't work out what Draco's task was before it was too late, or if the boy failed in any way...the Vow would kill him. If Draco's task was to kill Dumbledore, and the boy wasn't able to follow through and commit murder...which neither Severus nor Dumbledore believed the boy had it in him to do...he, Severus, would have to do it. And if he ended up the one to kill the beloved old man, regardless of the fact that he was dying a very slow and painful death, Hermione would hate him.

She'd hate him.

He hung his head.

He loved her, everything about her, and she'd come to hate him.

Euthanasia, regardless the reason or sentiment behind it, wasn't something that people forgave. And he couldn't tell anyone why he'd have to do it. He had to maintain pretenses to gain the Dark Lord's favor so he'd end up headmaster of the school, should the Dark Lord take over the Ministry as he planned. He'd have to destroy one of the few men Severus admired, looked up to, regardless of how manipulative he was, regardless of the promise he'd made to Lily. He hoped that his promise to Dumbledore didn't contradict to the previous vow he'd made to Dumbledore, to Lily, or any hope of him surviving... No, the old man had considered this conundrum himself and had phrased his request specifically and purposefully, but still Severus was filled with bitter resentment for the onerous obligation imposed on him.

He looked out again to the forest, remembering the warnings that he had been given in his youth about the dangers that lay within the dark trees...the same warnings the staff told the students today. The warnings given to him as a student went unheeded of course, just as some students ignored them now. His thought turned to those times he had ventured within the Forbidden Forest in search of ingredients. He'd loved being in the forest, under the canopy of the ancient and new trees, always on guard for unseen dangers and the possibility of attack. He smiled at the memory of the times when he had journeyed in there with Hermione as a teenager, defiantly braving the dangers. His sweeping gaze paused at the place he'd taken Hermione during one of their hikes and then lowered his gaze to the grounds as he thought about the snow castle he'd built her. He recalled the day they had come across a dead unicorn foal and the mare that had allowed them to harvest it. Although she'd been disgusted with the harvesting, she'd bravely given him her aid simply because he asked her to.

That was what he loved about her: Hermione, with her innocent expressions, always trusting, always open and sincere, her expressive doe-like eyes, her thirst for knowledge and skill, and her fearlessness was both aggravating and enthralling. She tested him in lessons, merely because she came to his classroom not only prepared with her assigned reading, but well read on the subject at hand, much more than any other student. She could answer any question he put forth to the class. It grated in his nerves that she quoted the books; he wanted to know what she thought, to have her extrapolate and theorize, but he had to refrain from demanding it from her in his lessons or showing her favoritism of any sort.

He sighed heavily.

His gaze swept the surrounding mountains.

No, he had never felt threatened there, in the forest or in the surrounding mountains. There were more dangerous places closer to home.

Fuck it. What's one more murder anyway, he sneered to himself.

He hated himself for the thought.

---

Hermione walked down to the dungeons, carrying the crumpled note in her hand. She'd slipped a message under the door to Professor Snape's office after Potions, asking to speak to him, and he'd given Euan Abercrombie a message to give her, telling her that he'd have only a few minutes after dinner if she were brief. She wanted to talk to Professor Snape about Harry's suspicions of Malfoy being in the Room of Requirement. Between her, Ginny, Harry and Ron, one of them were constantly watching the seventh floor corridor for Malfoy, and they now knew that Malfoy was indeed using the Room of Requirement a lot lately. However, he seemed to have stopped using Crabbe or Goyle as lookouts, possibly because Malfoy had run out of Polyjuice Potion. Neville and Seamus had commented that the room had been unresponsive all day Tuesday and Wednesday when they'd wanted to continue practicing with some of the DA members. Even the Creevey brothers had commented on the fact that they couldn't get into the room on Friday.

She knocked on his office door and waited for his reply. She knocked again, and his door creaked as it opened slightly. She stepped inside, finding the office empty, but there was a light coming from under the door to his private lab. Hoping he was in his lab brewing, Hermione crossed the office and knocked on the door, but there was no response. She knocked harder, and the door swung open a fraction. Curious, she peered into the room. Two cauldrons sat on burners and there were numerous ingredients spread out on the worktable in small containers and the remnants of ingredients he'd used.

On a side table, a small black cauldron sat over a very low flame, surrounded by a protection shield to keep anything from falling into the potion. She wondered what he was brewing in the small cauldron, not that she could distinguish much through the shield. The first time she'd noticed the cauldron was the evening after her wandless deflection lesson when Professor Snape had first used the cricket ball, but she'd been too thrilled to be brewing with him to have paid it much notice at the time, and her focus had been on the two potions he had set up on his worktable. That was back in the first week of January, so this potion took over five months to brew, possibly longer. Just off the top of her head she could think of four potions that took five months to brew and two that took six months, not that she'd tried any of those.

She shook her head, knowing that it didn't really matter what was in the cauldron, and walked up to his worktable. There were several sheets of parchment with all sorts of Arithmancy and Alchemy calculations. Hermione picked them up and examined them closer. He'd used Greek numerals for several of the ingredients listed on one of the pages in his algebraic equations, but she was able to follow along with his equations easily enough, even though they were quite complex.

Curious, she looked at the black board. It was the same potion he'd been working on before, only he'd made a lot of changes. In the first phase of the potion, Goldenseal was crossed out, and Blue Bloodenweed and lemon balm were written in next to it, and he'd switched potassium for sodium.

The second phase started with oleander milk, linderia bark, and Splindipperer spleens were written on the space above the frankincense, blue Scullcap, dittany, juniper and St John's-wort with a warning asterisk. The phoenix tears were crossed out, which made sense since it didn't react well with poisonous ingredients like Oleander milk. Instead, his directions substituted powdered unicorn heart in an infusion of grand wormwood followed by aniseed, hyssop, sweet fennel and angelica in the second phase.

And he'd switched Blodeuwedd oil and Gwydion beryl with magnesium in the third phase.

There was an arrow from sodium that showed he'd moved it down from the first phase to the fourth, then added Blodeuwedd oil blended with magnesium.

The parchments in her hands had his calculations of the probable impact of Blue Bloodenweed with oleander milk, linderia bark and Splindipperer spleens, and their reaction with frankincense, Blue Scullcap, dittany, juniper and St John's-wort. The Arithmancy algorithms were correct, she'd double checked them.

He'd used the Hopcroft and Lexicographic algorithms to describe the correct parameters of usage for each ingredient. She could feel her heart beat increase as she read his calculations. Her eyes narrowed as she read through the Arithmantic ciphers, noting how he had used a form of the Poisson statistical process to judge the interaction between the different substances, and then to balance the order of all of the ingredients in order to effect to best combination. He is brilliant, simply brilliant.

She placed the parchments back on his worktable and looked at the board. Artemisia absinthium extract, aniseed, fennel, angelica, lemon balm, dittany and juniper...those eight ingredients were written in blue. Artemisia absinthium. Absinthe wormwood? The base ingredients for distilling Absinthe?

Professor Snape thrust open the door with a bang as he swept into the room. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

She blushed under his harsh tone. "I'm sorry, sir. I saw the light under the door and thought you were in here," she said, glad that she'd put the parchments down where he'd left them.

He crossed his arms. "You didn't get my note cancelling our meeting?"

Her eyes widened momentarily in shock. "No, sir, I only got the message you had Abercrombie give me," she said, regaining her composure. "If I'd known you'd cancelled, I wouldn't have come."

"I see," he said as he relaxed somewhat. He walked up to his desk, and she blushed when she saw his forehead crease as he picked up his parchments.

"I..." she started to say, then inhaled. "I looked at them," she admitted. "I...they are bloody brilliant. I've never seen the use of the Hopcroft and Lexicographic algorithms with the Poisson statistical process before."

"It's my own preference," he said as he opened his drawer, and she was glad that he didn't seem angry at her confession. He withdrew a composition book and looked up at her. "Ask."

She smiled. "I was...is this the same potion I saw before?"

He nodded. "A variation of it, yes."

"You've added the ingredients for..." She paused. It was silly, merely a coincidence. He cocked his eyebrow, giving her an expected look, so she went ahead and asked, "Absinthe?"

His mouth pulled back into a one-sided smile. "And what, pray tell, do you know about Absinthe?"

"Nothing! Myths...stories," she said automatically, then blushed when he his mouth quirked ruefully. "I recognize the ingredients as being those...I've never brewed it!"

"I should think not," he stated. "I don't see you as the type to have a still in your room."

"Do you?" she asked, then mentally cringed at her audacity.

Except he didn't seem at all fazed by her question. "Naturally, although not in my room...it's here in my lab."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and he laughed softly. "Certain elixirs are best created in a still, especially if they are brewed in alcohol."

"Have you made Absinthe?" she asked, now immensely curious.

He smirked. "I just admitted that I have. Although I prefer to add melissa, peppermint, coriander and veronica to my liqueur." He moved out from behind his desk. "Why? Did you want to try la Fée Verte, the Green Fairy, sometime, Hermione?" he asked, and she swallowed at the deep silky resonance of his baritone voice.

"Does it cause the mind altering effects?" she asked. She knew about the drink's intoxicating effects; she'd been curious about Absinthe and knew that it had been popular among bohemian French artists in the 1900's for its uplifting sensation. "Drinkers of the liqueur used to claim to feel clear-headed and enlightened while drinking it."

"I assure you, mine is Suisse, and not the dangerous drink you've read about," he said smoothly, a silky drawl that held her almost hypnotized. "Wormwood does contain a substance called thujone, as you know, which can cause delirium if taken in high doses. But in small doses..." He moved closer, standing right in front of her. "It's a shame that I have to be somewhere else or I'd satisfy that curiosity of yours," he said smoothly.

She swallowed at the implications of what he offered. She was an adult now, but he was her teacher. She wanted very much to say yes, but she didn't want him to get in trouble. But to share this experience with him, of all people, to taste his liqueur, knowing he'd brewed it was almost too good to pass up. She nodded, looking up into his intense dark eyes, wondering what it would be like to drink it with him...if the rumors about the liquor were true.

He laughed softly, his hand brushing a curl of hair from the side of her face. "You would, wouldn't you, my little Gryffindor."

The gentle touch combined with the soft whiff of his cologne was intoxicating enough. She nodded. Her heart was beating so rapidly, pounding in her chest, and her breath had quickened. Being able to try Absinthe...his Absinthe...alone with him in his rooms. It was a truly heady thought. She wanted to. She waited for the offer.

"Unfortunately however, it's against the rules," he said, letting his hand drop.

She felt crestfallen; she nearly moaned as he backed away and his mouth quirked in response. "I do have a meeting, Hermione."

She lowered her eyes, feeling regret that he had to leave. "Of course, sir, I understand."

"I'm sorry, but you have to go now."

She heard the slight inflection of regret in his tone, and she looked up at him and smiled. "Maybe another time?"

He laughed softly. "Come on, you should go."

---

The fact that Harry was going out with Ginny seemed to interest a great number of people. Ron was naturally uncomfortable with the match and kept making comments like "as long as you're not snogging all over the place" or "I could withdraw my permission any time I want," but Harry and Ginny simply ignored his comments. Ginny even called him a hypocrite on more than one occasion, and Hermione agreed with her considering how he'd carried on with Lavender. But between Harry and Ginny now cuddling together in the common room all the time and Ginny sitting beside Harry at every meal, not to mention Ron slipping out to be with Padma whenever he could, Hermione felt like a gooseberry.

More and more, Hermione's thoughts turned to Professor Snape. Whenever she wasn't trying to find information on the founders, searching for artifacts, or how to destroy a Horcrux, she'd been practicing wandless magic whenever she could and was getting better at rudimentary spells, almost able to do all her first and second year Charms and Defense spells with reasonable results, but she was still having trouble with Conception spells, especially those from Transfiguration.

Hermione left the common room, leaving behind Harry and Ginny sitting together in one squishy chair by the fire, hoping that Professor Snape would be in his office. She waved to Rosalba as she passed her frame and headed for the dungeons. She smiled with relief when she saw that there was light peeking out from under his door. She knocked lightly and waited.

She knocked again, slightly harder. She thought she heard something, not his usual bark of 'Enter,' but a voice. Curious, and hoping she was not assuming anything, she tried the latch, smiling as it gave. She pushed open the door and peered inside. He was sitting in his chair facing away from the door. She entered and walked confidently to his desk, then paused.

He was asleep, sitting up in his chair with his head against the backrest and his forearms on the arm rests. The way his head tilted back at rest made his hair fall back, allowing her a seldom seen view of his face. In slumber he looked, not exactly peaceful, there were still small creases in his face, but the slack in his facial muscles made him look younger. The planes of his face were still sharp, his lips were thin with fine lines at the corners, and his nose in this position was more sharply pronounced, but he seemed more like the young man she'd known in her earlier encounters when she'd stayed in his lab during her Time-Turner mishaps. She noticed that his nose was not perfect, not that it was crooked, but then she knew it had been broken and magically mended a few times. No matter what anyone said, she liked his nose, and she didn't think it was really all that large, just prominent, especially considering how he wore his hair.

And his eyebrows were thicker now, but still in a nice enough arch. All in all it was a nice face...not handsome, no, but masculine, and uniquely his. In a way he'd grown into his features nicely, all considering.

Her gaze traveled down his form, away from his face. The years had thickened his body, not by a lot, but somewhat, even though he was still quite thin. She remembered with a smile what he'd looked like the day he'd tried to save her in the prefect pool. She knew that under all those layers of wool and linen he had a lithe, muscular body, with strong, lean arms and well-defined pectorals. Like a runner or a swimmer, she thought appreciatively. Hermione rather thought she'd prefer a body like his than one like the wizards in Lavender's and Parvati's magazines, all bulky and brawn.

She looked at his hands. She loved his hands with his long fingers she knew were quite strong and very dexterous. As expected, his nails and cuticles were meticulously manicured, just like they had been when he was young, to prevent hangnails or cuts in his skin; it was a precaution she knew he took because of the toxins and poisons from some of the various ingredients he worked with. However, the everyday toil of his work made his hands appear rougher now, and there were ink stains on his fingertips in both red and black, so apparently he'd been writing before he'd fallen asleep. She looked up and saw two neat stacks of parchment on his desk, the top page of the one stack was covered with his red markings, and the other had a handwritten letter to Mrs. and Mr. Crabbe paper clipped to the parchment beneath it.

"Miss Granger, why are you here?"

His voice startled her. "I...I wanted to see you," she replied, the words sounding lame even to her.

He ran his palm over his forehead as he sat up and then looked up at her. "You shouldn't be here."

"It's an hour before curfew," she said lamely.

"But well after my office hours," he pointed out, then clenched his jaw to stifle a yawn. "Hermione, I'm tired and have an early staff meeting before breakfast and end of term exams to complete yet tonight."

She nodded, feeling dejected. "When would you have time? I'd like to review my progress or lack thereof."

He yawned. "I can check my schedule and get back to you. But with exams coming up and Apparition testing, I'm really quite busy."

"I understand," she said, nodding. "If I can help, possibly, with anything, you've only to ask me."

His mouth stretched into a smile. "Nothing comes to mind." His smile faded. "Write me a list of what you are having difficulty with, and I'll see what I can do. But please, be brief and concise. I don't want an essay or dissertation...just a brief statement."

She smiled at his remark. "I'll have it for you by tomorrow. I hope your evening goes well."

"Thank you," he said then turned to face the desk. "Good night, and don't stay up all hours revising."

"I won't," she said, walking along his desk. She stopped at the corner and looked up at him. "I know it's presumptuous of me to say this, but you, too. Try and get some sleep tonight. You look exhausted."

His expression became stern. "Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night," she repeated and walked out of his class room.

---

Hermione was sitting with Ron in the common room when Harry came running in and rushed upstairs to his dorm. "That was unusually quick,'' Hermione said, referring to Harry's meeting with the Headmaster. She looked at Ron in confusion, and he shrugged. "Maybe Dumbledore found one?" she asked.

"Yeah, right," Ron stammered as he sprung to his feet.

Hermione jumped up and followed him, wondering if that was what had Harry so excited. She didn't even notice that both Seamus and Dean had stopped talking as she and Ron hurried past them toward the stairs to the boys' dorms.

"I don't have much time," Harry said while digging into his trunk as soon as she and Ron entered the room. "I'm supposed to be getting my Invisibility Cloak." He pulled out a pair of balled up socks. "Listen," he said and told them where Dumbledore was taking him. "Malfoy is in the Room of Requirement, and he's done it...whatever it was he was doing in there...he's done it. So, he's going use Dumbledore's absence to do whatever it is he is planning on doing."

"Harry, you don't know that! How would Malfoy know that Dumbledore is leaving?" Hermione asked, but he wasn't listening.

"Rustle up the DA, Hermione. You still have those coins, right? We used them for practices, don't we? So you can get hold of everyone," Harry said and then started rambling about what was going on so quickly, Hermione couldn't get a word in edgewise. Dumbledore had found a Horcrux in a cave. Harry and the Headmaster were going there tonight. Professor Trelawney told Harry that someone in the Room of Requirement and had thrown her out, someone who was celebrating about having done something, and Harry suspected that it was Malfoy. And he insisted that whatever it was that Malfoy was going to do, he was convinced that he was going to do it tonight.

"Harry, are you sure you didn't misunderstand her?" Hermione asked, but Harry went on as if he hadn't heard her.

"Dumbledore told me he has arranged extra protection for the school, but if Snape is involved with Malfoy..." Harry said, digging in his bag.

"Professor Snape is not helping Malfoy, Harry, he was trying to get Malfoy to confide in him," Hermione emphasized emphatically, getting really tired of his mistrust in Professor Snape.

"But he'll know what the protections are and how to avoid them," Harry insisted.

"How do you know its tonight?" Ron asked.

"Malfoy was whooping and celebrating," Harry said as he handed Ron the socks. Ron looked at them as if they were poisonous.

"Who?" Neville asked.

"Malfoy," Harry said, not realizing that the room had filled up with people. "Professor Trelawney told me she was in the Room of Requirement, and he shoved her out. Don't you see...he's done it?!"

"What did she see," Lavender asked, pushing her way forward.

"Nothing, it was pitch black," Harry said as all the Gryffindor's in the DA formed a kind of circle around Harry. "But then she went on about the lightning struck tower, calamity, disaster...some wonky stuff like that...and then she started saying something about eight hearts being sacrificed and the ten cups were inverted and he'd lose friendship and betrayal or some such rubbish."

"No, Harry, that's what the cards represent," Parvati stated. "It's a portent of what's to come! Lightning Struck Tower, the Eight of Hearts and the inverted Ten of Cups...I've been getting those cards for days when I've done readings, too." Lavender nodded.

Ron held up the socks. "What do I want with your manky old socks, mate?" he asked, not listening to Parvati.

"That's my Felix Felicis," Harry said as he shoved the map into Ron's hands as well. "Here, watch the seventh floor corridor," he said as he started moving quickly for the door. "Malfoy will show up as soon as Dumbledore leaves the castle and if he does...be ready!"

Hermione grabbed the socks and called out, "Harry, wait," brushing passed Dean and Parvati so she could stop him and talk some sense into him. "You'll need this..."

"I haven't got time. I have to go!" Harry was saying as he hurried out the door and down the stairs.

Hermione followed him, hearing all the thuds of all the DA following her. "Harry, I have mine, remember? You take that this! You don't know what you'll be facing," she was saying as she followed him across the common room.

"Hermione, I'll be with Dumbledore," Harry shouted as he scrambled through the portrait hole. "You'll need it more than me."

"Will someone please fill us in?" Seamus shouted.

"Hermione...Crabbe and Goyle are both in the corridor," Ron stated, pointing at the map. "Blaise and Bulstrode are coming up the stairs."

"They're what?" she asked, stopping and turning. Ron showed her the map; Goyle was outside the Room of Requirement, and Crabbe was pacing the corridor. Zabini's and Bulstrode's dots were coming up the dungeon staircase. Pucey, Warrington and Crane were walking across the Entrance Hall.

"What if Harry is right?"

Hermione and Ron turned to Ginny. "Everything adds up," Ginny insisted. "First, we have no idea what Malfoy has been up to in the Room of Requirement...and if his two thugs are in the corridor and the others are running up here, they probably know that Dumbledore is leaving the castle, so it is the perfect opportunity to do whatever it is Malfoy's planning on doing. Secondly, Fred thinks the attempts on Dumbledore were a diversion, because really, none of them were successful. If Dumbledore was the target, you'd think Malfoy would get it right at least once. I mean, Malfoy is a git, but he's not stupid."

"Who is trying to kill Dumbledore?" Neville asked while as Seamus said, "I heard Malfoy talking to Crabbe in the library, telling him he better not complain or he'd tell the Dark Lord. He was showing him something on his arm."

"And Dumbledore's arm is getting worse," Colin stated. "I asked him about it, and he told me it was nothing to be concerned about, but it looks dead."

"Okay, here's the thing," Ron said, turning to everyone. "If, and I mean if, Malfoy decides that tonight is his best chance of doing whatever it is he's planning, then we should be ready."

Hermione stood stunned as those gathered around her nodded or voiced their agreement. Ginny already had her Galleon on her hand and was activating the coin with her wand. "But we don't know if Malfoy is doing anything. He could simply have, I dunno, found another means of..."

"...Trying to kill the Headmaster," Ron finished for her.

She wanted to protest, but he cut her off. "Hermione use the Galleons," Ron suggested, then shook his head. "No, wait, it's late; they may not have their coins on them." He turned to Parvati and Lavender. "Parvati, you and Lavender go alert the Ravenclaws; Ginny, you and Neville go alert the Hufflepuffs."

"Ron, you, me and Dean can see what we can get out of Crabbe and Goyle," Seamus suggested with an eagerness that worried Hermione. "Or at the very least we send them back to the dungeons where they belong."

"I know a shortcut, there's a hidden stairwell between the statue of Thorance Welldinger of Kent and the tapestry of girls feeding unicorns that leads to the main corridor to the fifth floor," Ginny suggested, and Hermione glared at her.

"Good, we won't have to use the moving staircases," Parvati said with a grin as she moved to follow Hermione. "Good idea."

"Yeah, but Neville and I will," Ginny said, following the others. "We'll meet you on the fifth floor."

Hermione tuned to go with the girls, but Ron stalled her. "Hermione, Wait! Get your Felix Felicis, and share yours with everyone who shows up on the fifth floor," Ron said and indicated the Creeveys, Seamus, Dean, Katie and Demelza behind him, adding, "I'll share Harry's with everyone here."

Hermione nodded once, then turned and ran up to her room.

---

Downstairs in Severus' office, Rosalba shook Altheda's frame to make the bell ring out in alarm. "Gryffindors in the corridor, Severus..." she called out, then blushed as Severus looked up at the portrait. She quickly added, "Er, Professor Snape," upon seeing Messrs Boughton, Urguhart and Aubry and Misses Reilly, Maguire and Rushbridge all turn to look at her as well. "Misses Weasely, Brown, Patil and Mr. Longbottom left the common room and headed down the hidden stairway."

"It's a bit late to have a DA meeting," Urguhart stated, turning to look at Severus.

"Rosalba, go back and watch the corridor. Let me know if any of the others leave the common room," Severus said kindly. Especially if Hermione leaves, he thought but didn't voice. "And see if the Fat Lady will allow you to visit her for a few hours." That way she'd know for certain if Miss Granger snuck out so close to curfew.

"Of course, Professor, I'm sure she and Violet would love to inform me on all the latest gossip," Rosalba said politely but with a hint of disdain.

"This could have something to do with Malfoy and his two friends," Mr. Boughton stated as he stared at the floor.

Severus agreed, but with no information to go on, there was little he could do.

"Malfoy has been gone for hours, and just now, Crabbe and Goyle left in a hurry," Mr. Boughton continued. "I followed them up to the sixth floor...they were running up to the seventh."

"This is all speculation! You sound like one of those conspiracy theorists," Miss Reilly stated, pointing her finger at him. "We have no idea what Malfoy is up to up there."

"Exactly," Mr. Boughton said, turning on her. "He's up there all the time, and we have no idea why." He turned to look at Severus. "I've tried to befriend him like you asked me to, but he'll have none of it. He won't trust me. But he was actually having an anxiety attack last night in the loo on the first floor, and it wasn't the first time either. He's under tremendous pressure to do something..."

"Or his mum will be killed," Mr. Aubry finished for him.

"I haven't had any luck either," Miss Rushbridge said solemnly. "I've tried, but only Daphne has befriended me. Pansy and Millicent are still rather cool, and I've not gained enough trust to be in their confidences."

Mr. Aubry leaned forward slightly in his seat. "My father goaded about it in his last letter. He said that Aldebaran's dad," he indicated Mr. Urguhart, "knows that whatever this task is, no one but the Malfoys and Mrs. Lestrange know about it, but Mrs. Lestrange keeps going on about how it will elevate their place in the Dark Lord's favor. My mom said that Mrs. Malfoy cries a lot, she's waif thin and her nails look horrible, so she's feeling the pressure as well."

"So, if this is the night, and not just some lame attempt on the Headmaster's life, do we do anything?" Mr. Urguhrat asked.

"That's a good question." Severus placed his fists on his desk. "Unless the Dark Lord is ready to face Potter and end this once and for all, I'd say no. If you tip your hand now, and it's only another attempt on the Headmaster, your lives will be in jeopardy and everything we've done will be for naught." He thought about the potions he'd finally finished. Two vials of the Quickening-Reflexes Potion and Felix Felicis rested in his pocket. He wanted to give them to Hermione. Now he wondered if his time had run out. "Wait in the Potions classroom if you want, but I wouldn't suggest going to the common room until we know for sure. You don't want Messrs Pucey, Warrington, Zabini or Crane to see you leave if I have to summon you."

"Or Fitzgerald, Grey, Parkinson and Bulstrode either," Miss Reilly pointed out.

"However, we can make the common room entrance lock down," Mr. Urguhart suggested, then turned to look at Severus. "Or you can, sir. That way if Malfoy's task does involve exposing the school so that the Death Eaters can make a raid on the castle, then the ones we know who side with the Dark Lord will be trapped in the common room."

Severus smirked. He'd already done just that. "Mr. Urguhart, you and Mr. Boughton and Miss Reilly go on patrol of the castle. If Malfoy does make an attempt on the castle, keep your head down, help, but be cunning and don't be seen or caught doing so. The rest of you, return to the common room. Keep the other's inside. A simple Impedīmentum morari on the inside of the common room door will prevent anyone from leaving but allow returning students to get in."

"Consider it done, sir," Mr. Aubry said with a conspiratorial smirk as the students all got to their feet.

Severus watched them leave. His Dark Mark prickled, but the irritation only meant that the Dark Lord was projecting his feelings again. It wasn't a summons or an alert...just something. It was not always easy to read the emotions being projected...as unpredictable as the Dark Lord himself.

He picked up his quill and stared disconsolately at the essays that lay on his desk. Grading essays seemed pointless now; his Slytherins, Urguhart, Aubry and Boughton had come to tell him that their father's had informed them to be ready to serve the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord had yet to alert Severus, but if the boys in the school were being alerted to be ready, then something was up.

He mentally cursed one Draco Malfoy. Severus set down his quill and opened his drawer, placing a small vial of Felix Felicis on the surface. Potter is with the Headmaster, but if Hermione and her friends are in the corridors, then they, too, know something is up. He feared for Hermione. Somehow he had to get the potion to her.

He called for Dobby.

---

A loud pop startled Hermione as she entered her room.

"Oh no! Dobby is sorry to startle Miss, but Dobby is to leaves this for Miss Granger and not be seens," Dobby said and disappeared with a pop.

"Dobby, wait," she called out, too late. "Who sent this?" was spoken to the empty room.

Hermione gaped in shock at the small golden potion as she picked it up, wondering who could have asked Dobby to give this to her and what for. It looked like Felix Felicis, the same molten gold color, but this potion looked thicker and had a richer color and sheen than the one she'd received from Professor Slughorn. Hermione looked at her little vial of molten gold potion and the slightly larger mysterious vial. It had to be the Felix Felicis...no other potion she knew of looked like molten gold; that and the sheen were indicative of the Liquid Luck Potion.

She mentally tallied up the number of people and sighed. Harry had taken a small mouthful, almost a fourth of his potion, and his vial was supposed to hold enough to last a day...sixteen hours of extremely good luck. She didn't know if she had enough to go around, but between the two vials she might have enough. I need some way to divide it, she thought, wondering how much would each person really need.

She had a unopened bag of Honeydukes' Golden Snitch Chocolate Malt Balls in her trunk and estimated that there were more than enough for everyone and she'd have extra should they need them. But not enough for everyone to have two. Oh well, it's the best I can do. "Okay," she mumbled, drawing her wand. Infusus, or better, infundere means to pour into and it worked in Potions, but will it work? She uncorked both vials Felix Felicis and poured them into the bag, rotating the bag to evenly coat the candy as best she could, and then aimed her wand. "Infundere intus," she said and watched with a satisfied smile as the potions seeped into the sweets. If she calculated right, each Golden Snitch should have enough potion to last an hour. Hopefully two.

She hurried out of the room to meet up with everyone on the fifth floor.

"Hermione," Ron called out. She was in a hurry, but she stopped as Ron and Dennis ran up to her. "Look," Ron said, showing her the map.

She had to move his finger to read the names moving steadily up the stairs. "Pucey, Warrington, Montague and Zabini are on the stairs heading for the second floor." She looked up at Ron. "Why are they...could they be coming up here, too?"

Ron shrugged as Colin approached. "Something's up and all the Slytherins are coming up here."

"Not all of them, Ron," she said and looked at Dennis and Colin. "Oh here." She opened her bag and gave a Golden Snitch Malt Ball each to Dennis and Colin. "Eat this. It has Felix Felicis in it."

Colin handed his to Sebastian Kirchner, saying, "I took some."

"Right, okay," she said and looked at Ron. "I have to go...the others."

"Yeah, okay," Ron said. "Be careful."

"I will," she shouted as she ran for the exit.

---

Hermione arrived in the corridor just in time to see Cho leading the others from Ravenclaw toward her. Hermione was surprised that seventh-years, Marcus Belby, Eddie Carmichael and Grant Page, had joined them, but a few more wands couldn't help. She heard the Hufflepuffs approach before seeing seventh-years, Jerome Dorny, Mike Fletcher and Duane Harkness, walking around the corner with Ginny and Neville.

"We have a few more," Ginny said with a huge smile.

"Will Stebbins, James Summers and Gerald Summerby joined us as well," Neville said proudly. "So, are we all here?"

Hermione gaped in confusion. What are they expecting...a war?

Luna approached. "So, Harry thinks the castle may come under attack?"

Hermione was about to respond when Bill and another wizard walked up. "What are all of you doing in the corridors?" Bill demanded. "You're supposed to be in your common rooms."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, then blurted, "Dumbledore's extended security."

Just then, Professor Flitwick came bounding down the stairs. He slid to a stop and breathlessly announced, "Oh there you are! Death Eaters...in the castle...seventh floor! They broke in! I have to warn Severus. Find the others." He took off running as Bill and the other wizard drew their wands, and Bill turned to the others as the other wizard ran up the corridor.

"Right," Bill said to the assembled group. "And you...back to...oh, shit. The Great Hall."

"No, we have to defend the school," Neville said stubbornly.

"Most of you are under age!" Bill argued adamantly. "You're going to go to the Great Hall."

"I have Felix Felicis!" Hermione said, pulling out the bag of sweets. "I put a dose in each of these. If everyone under seventeen takes one, they will have at least two maybe three hours of good luck."

Ginny quickly took the bag and, after eating one, started passing it around. "You have to be kidding me...No!" Bill said adamantly. "You lot are not going to fight...you're going to the Great Hall!"

Luna ate hers as if savoring the sweet, then turned to Hermione. "We should go see to Professor Flitwick, he'll be in the dungeons," she said serenely as if suggesting a visit. She turned and walked purposefully for the stairs.

Hermione couldn't believe it. "Luna, wait!" But then it suddenly hit her, Severus! Professor Flitwick went to get Severus. She quickly followed Luna, thankful that all the stairs seemed to be cooperating.

---

"Excuse me, Professor, but there is more activity in the corridor," Rosalba stated.

He looked up at her, expecting bad news. "Messrs Weasley, Finnigan and Thomas left the common room a few minutes ago, but they headed in the other direction, toward the main stairs. Just as I was coming to tell you, Misses Spinnet and Miss Bell went in the same direction with Messrs Green, Dunstan and McLaggen."

Altheda slipped into her frame and said, "Professor Snape! Oh, sorry, Rosalba," blushing as she'd accidently bumped into her friend.

"No problem, Altheda, I was just..."

"Ladies, please," Severus interrupted. "Pleasantries later. Altheda, what is it?" he asked, concerned. His first thought was for Hermione, hoping she was not in trouble.

"Messrs Pucey, Warrington, Montague and Zabini just ran past my portrait, heading for the stairs to the sixth floor."

Hermione. If her friends are about, she will be too. He didn't want a confrontation with his Slytherins right now.

Just then, Severus' Dark Mark seared. He was needed. Hogwarts, the summons was clear in his mind even as he clenched his teeth to the intrusion and pain. He was to be at Hogwarts. Severus, go to the Room of Hidden Things, came the personalized message.

At that moment, Filius burst into his office, huffing loudly with an audible wheeze. "Death Eaters, Severus! Death Eater's in the castle," he managed to get out between labored breaths.

Hermione! "Where?" Severus asked as Filius bent over, grasping the seat of a chair, gasping for air as said, "On the...seventh floor!" between breaths.

Same place the Dark Lord summoned me. Fuck. He stared at the diminutive wizard. In his prime, Filius was an accomplished duelist, but Severus knew he was old, and in his opinion, the sedentary life of a teacher had softened him. Severus stood and pocketed his potions. "I'm sorry, Filius, but this is one you have to stay out of," he said as he flicked his wand, adding a softly spoken but very strong,"Immobulus."

He left his office in a hurry and ran into Hermione and Miss Lovegood. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"We came to see Professor Flitwick, professor," Luna said serenely. "There are Death Eaters in the castle, and he will be needed."

Severus thought quickly. "He's here. He came to inform me and slipped on something, I'm afraid. He's unconscious," he said, forming a reasonable lie. He could lock her in his office, and she'd be safe...angry, but safe. Not as angry as she will be when you kill the Headmaster, he thought sarcastically. "I was on my way to..."

"Defend us against the Death Eaters," Miss Lovegood said and skipped, literally skipped, to his office. He shook his head at the unusually bizarre idiocy. But it solved one problem. He looked at Hermione, still standing before him as if waiting for, what? Directions?

She watched him, gazing up at him, her soft doe-like eyes so trusting, so expressive. Her confusion, fear, determination warred in the warm amber brown. Gods he was a fool, but he loved this girl. Everything about her. And in less than a month, maybe sooner, the curse would reach the Headmaster's heart and brain; the tendrils were already snaking up the old man's neck and across his shoulder, it was only a matter of time. And he wanted Severus to kill him before the curse reached his brain.

"Hermione, please, go to Professor Flitwick," he said softly, pleading that she go to his office willingly. He didn't have time, but she wasn't leaving.

"Luna's with him. We should go and defend the castle," she argued stubbornly, the lioness coming out in her.

No, he thought. I...

He never finished the thought; he reached out and cupped her head, pulled her closer and kissed her.

He looked at her, his hand resting on the side of her face, his fingers buried in her soft curls. She didn't push away, she didn't shove hard at his chest to separate them, or slap him or screech or any reaction he'd expected. She stared up at him, her eyes going wide. In, what, confusion?, his mind asked. Surprise, yes, but she's confused...not angry, not incensed and not repulsed. And she still hasn't backed away.

I myself am pursuing the same instinctive course as the veriest human animal you can think of, he thought, quoting Keats*. Straining at particles of light in the midst of a great darkness...without knowing the bearing of any one assertion, of any one opinion. Yet may I not in this be free from sin?* he quoted again as if asking himself permission.

He pulled her to him again as his mouth once again met hers, her soft, lush lips, delectably pliable and accepting under his as he literally drank her in. He felt her arms move to encircle him, and his arms tightened around her, holding her to him desperately. She felt divine against his body, and her contours fit so well against his lanky frame. How he wished he had time to savor the moment, to fully experience what this one kiss could become. But he couldn't. He poured his heart and soul into the kiss, taking and demanding while baring himself to her if only in this one contact. If there could be no us between us then at least let her remember that I cared, loved her, if nothing else. His heart both soared at her responsiveness and sank in despair that there would never be another moment like this one, this one stolen moment, this break from reality. But he had to leave. He was expected and the Dark Lord would know he'd delayed.

"Please don't hate me," he pleaded softly, holding her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

But he did. "I do what I must tonight," he confessed with a laden heart.

"Severus?" she asked, confusion and desire in her voice.

Desire. Oh, but I am cruel fate's tortured fool. He turned from the confusion in her lust filled eyes. "Forgive me if you can," he said, knowing she never would. He hurried away before she could speak, hearing his name from her lips as he ran down the corridor. He didn't...couldn't turn around.

I have left no immortal work behind me...nothing to make my friends proud of my memory...but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered, he quoted Keats again as he ran up the stairs.

~ T. B. .C. ~

Author's Notes:

The Latin comes from my favorite online translator: Notre Dame Latin Dictionary and Grammar Aid

Mororari in Latin means: to delay, to linger, loiter, stay, to retard, detain, hinder

I heard that we are being asked from here on out to use footnotes for any and all citations we use because of issues regarding to plagiarism. I have quoted Keats here in this chapter, more than once, but I was careful to denote that that is what Severus is doing...quoting Keats. Most of the quotes are from Endymion by Keats, first published in 1818, according to my dear friend Proulxes, and the first few quotations that I cited are from a letter Keats wrote in A Letter to Fannie Brawne, dated February 1820 that I found online at the time I wrote this. No plagiarism was intended.