Chapter 51

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.

Keep in mind, most of the actual events in DH happen as they happened in the book unless I have indicated they happened differently or at a slightly different time. I am, however, adding to the drawn out camping stretches a bit, and some interactions that didn't happen in the book. My creative license says I can do 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 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!

---

Severus had been pleased to see seven Harry Potter's shooting into the sky above the street in Surrey; that meant that Mundungus had played his part well. The simpleton. It had been a good ploy, if it worked. He landed his broom in the area below where he'd had the accident with the Harry Potter he'd followed. For all he knew it was Hermione's ear he'd sliced off...a disastrous incident wherein instead of slicing Cuiléin's arm as he'd intended, he'd cut the ear off the Harry Potter riding with Lupin when the werewolf had made a diversionary maneuver and got in the way. The idea that he could have mutilated Hermione gnawed at him ferociously. "Accio severed ear," he said and gasped at the appendage that flew into his palm. It was not hers, thank Merlin. It was larger than her delicate shell, and freckled. One of the Weasley's then.

He considered what to do with the offending ear. If it was the youngest Weasley's ear, it would cause Hermione distress, and his hearing impaired could pose a problem for Potter in a sticky situation. God only knows what they would face searching for those cursed artifacts.

He was still angry at Arthur for not heeding his warnings about the Muggle-borns. The Daily Prophet was being quiet on the names of the missing and those killed in raids, but then the editors of the paper, Barnabas Cuffe and Jonathan Vogt, had been captured, and Bollard assumed control of the publication, just as Maguire had warned would happen. Severus had been present when Susan Li and Lisa Turpin had been brought before the Dark Lord, tortured and taken down to the Malfoys' basement. What had become of them after that, he had no idea. Charity Burbage had also been captured. She had been a colleague and had always been sociable toward him. The manner of her death had bothered Severus greatly; she'd deserved better than to be pre-dinner entertainment and snake food. Even Draco had paled considerably, and watching her die was something that the boy was never likely to forget, not that there hadn't been many such acts in his home as of late.

Severus could tell that the punishments that the Dark Lord made Draco perform on those who'd displeased him were making an indelible impression on the once arrogant young Malfoy. Draco's use of the Cruciatus on Zane Seymour two days ago had greatly disturbed the boy, regardless of how hard he'd tried to hide it. Even though Draco had frequently called Miss Seymour a Mudblood while at school, he'd barely had the stomach to properly dispense with the girl, much to the Dark Lord's displeasure.

Severus hoped the boy wouldn't crack and could hold out until school started.

At least Hermione had been safe, until today, and he wanted to know if she had reached the Burrow safely.

He needed to know.

Well, one exchange for another, he thought and Apparated.

Severus arrived in the Orchard and moved stealthy toward the house. He saw Molly in the window and quickly cast a version of the Imperious Curse, the Inception Curse, on her. She looked up and stared out of the window, their eyes locking onto one another's, and he reinforced the connection by blending Subicimency with the spell. Using the link, he instilled the mental suggestion, 'Come outside to the orchard, alone.' Molly turned from the window, and Severus slunk back into the shadows.

He watched her walk casually into the trees as if sleepwalking. "Expelliarmus," he said, disarming her. "Immobilis membrum," he added, binding her to an old post, making her unable to move her arms or legs.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw him. "What are...why...? Murderer!" she shrieked.

He smirked, knowing that his use of the previously cast Muffliato kept anyone in the house from hearing her. "Yes, and so much more," he intoned.

She struggled futilely against her magical bindings. "You came here to kill me?"

"No, I did not." He walked up to her as he pricked his finger and placed a drop of blood on her forehead. He aimed his wand at her and with a precise rotation, he said softly, "Celare-inaudire." The color of his blood emanated a soft bright red glow as the enchantment took hold, and her eyes widened in recognition of the Secret-Keeping Enchantment, used by many to bind someone to hold in confidence something heard as a secret.

"Why?"

"I came here to tell you how to heal your son," Severus stated.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why would you have...?"

He cut her off, saying, "I understand your son was the Potter-impersonator who lost his ear." She sputtered obscenities and accusations, which he allowed, then silenced her. "It was an accident. I was flying alongside Avery and Cuiléin. Cuiléin shot forward, and I was about to cut his arm before he could kill Lupin, but Dolohov dove, making Lupin swerve and my spell removed your son's ear instead." He pulled the appendage from his pocket. "Had I been able," he lowered his hand, closing his fingers around the ear. "But I could not."

"It was cut off with a curse!" she spat at him. "A curse, Severus, you cannot..."

"It is not a curse, but a deviation of the Slicing Hex. Few know the spell or can control it properly. Considering the time that has elapsed, the ear may or may not attach, however, I'm here to tell you how to heal the wound."

"Why, Severus? Why protect Remus and kill Dumbledore? He loved you like a son," she said, her expression hurt and questioning.

"He used me like a pawn...a role I was prepared to accept, at some cost," he spat angrily and gritted his teeth.

"I don't believe you," she stated, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Do you want to learn the spell or not?" he snapped. "I haven't time for this."

She nodded. He summoned a large box. Inside, a pig lay on its side as if sleeping. "Only immobilized." He cut the pig with his Sectumsempra. The pig didn't make a sound or flinch. Then speaking clearly, he closed the wound with the incantation.

"All right, show me," she said, waiting. He repeated the incantation, which Molly tried to mimic. "No, you haven't got the intonation right. It's a mix of old English and early Cambric, try again." He corrected her several times before she had the words right. He released her, then slashed the pig again and stood up. "Go on, try it," he said, handing her wand back to her.

She did, but it took several tries before she could close the wound properly. "Do it again," he insisted, slashing the pig with more intent this time. The gash was horrid, bleeding profusely. She was sweating now, but calmly leaned over the pig. He watched as she carefully closed the wound, making the blood return, absorbed into the arteries, and the flesh healed.

"You may keep the pig," he said.

He handed her the ear.

"Why, Severus? I don't understand," she asked, looking at the flesh on her palm and then looked up at him. "Why save Remus after you so cold-heartedly killed Dumbledore? After all you did to try and save him, why kill him?"

"I made a Vow." He regretted telling her the moment the words escaped his lips. However, his blood on her forehead still remained a brilliant bright red...she was still bound by the Secret-Keeping Enchantment. He stepped forward, and she moved back in fear but his stride was longer. "I made a vow to him I could not break!" He pulled up his sleeve, showing her his right wrist...his wand hand. "Here is your proof."

Molly swallowed and then looked at his forearm, and her eyes widened as he cast the revealing charm. There were two very thin, fine, white scar-like lines across his skin above his wrist, interspaced with two lines that still shimmered with a silvery-hue. "Four? There are..." she said as she looked up, imploringly, "two unfinished?"

"Yes, I've made four Unbreakable Vows, two of which I have completed, two I have yet to see through," he said bitterly. No one trusted him, it seemed, unless they made him vow to do what they wanted.

"What are they?"

His head snapped up at the question. "Which? The two I completed, or the two unfinished ones?" He pointed his wand tip on the third line. "One to Narcissa Malfoy to protect Draco, to keep him from harm and to complete his task for him should the boy fail. Bellatrix was the Binder. I'm still bound to the first two parts of the Vow. The one below it was to Dumbledore, to kill him myself so that the Dark Lord couldn't use Legilimency on him in his weakened state from the curse that was killing him. He bound that one himself. Of course, he pleaded with me that night to keep my vow, to kill him so that neither Greyback nor Bellatrix Lestrange could torture him...or the Carrows for that matter. Believe me, they would have loved toying with him on the tower that night before taking him before the Dark Lord."

"To kill Dumbledore? The Malfoy boy was to kill Dumbledore?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"No, his attempts were ruses to hide his true intent...the infiltration of the school...to have the Death Eaters invade the castle so they could besiege the school," he confessed. She might as well know the truth, no one else did. "You know that I was trying every way I could to contain the curse, to prolong his life?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Which was why it was such a shock," she stated. "Madam Pomfrey said he was dying...Harry said he'd consumed a potion."

He knew about the potion that Potter gave Dumbledore, but if he'd had time, he could have... possibly.... But there was nothing he could have done, not in that situation. "Yes, he was dying...a very slow and very painful death. That night, he could no longer stand, even his magic was fading. Don't you understand? He was weakened to the point where he could not defend himself." He exhaled heavily to forestall the anger that threatening to rise. "Whatever it was that Potter gave him, it had reacted with the curse eating away at the old wizard. I could see the tendrils of the curse on the man's neck! He'd have died in only a few days anyway."

Molly looked away, her eyes becoming misty. "So you killed him so the Death Eaters couldn't capture him."

"Yes," he admitted. Maybe she was finally starting to see. She was not a stupid woman; it was possible she would accept the truth.

She turned to look at him. "What is the other vow...what other vows have you made?"

He hesitated. "Tell me first...who else was hurt besides your son and Mundungus?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "Mad-Eye fell from his broom and is thought to be dead," she said, then placed her hands on her hips. "Now, tell me! You want my trust, what is the other vow are you still held to and to whom did you make that vow?"

He exhaled, his relief flooding him as he turned his head for a moment. Hermione is safe. She's unharmed. He looked up at Molly. The blood was still bright red, indicating that he still had time to seal the enchantment, to bind her to keep his secrets.

He considered whether to seal the Secret-Keeping Enchantment now or to answer her question. He'd feel more confident if he told her while under the enchantment's influence. She would keep his secret; even if she managed to fight through the Secret-Keeping Enchantment, he knew she would keep his confidences, not that it truly mattered anymore, but at least one person would know. But she was a formidable witch, if she did break the enchantment, she might tell Arthur, but that was as far as his secret would go, he was certain of that. He had time. "I made a vow to Lily." At least she and Arthur would know why.

"To Lily...Lily Potter?"

"Evans," he snapped, then sighed. "Yes to Lily, the night I begged Dumbledore to hide her. He summoned her, made me tell her what I'd done. She made me swear," he paused, lowering his eyes, not meeting her gaze, "to do whatever Dumbledore asked of me. To do what I could to help them defeat the Dark Lord." He opened his eyes to find her watching him, concerned but not judgmental. "And to help watch over and protect her son until the day came that he fulfilled the prophecy, the day one dies at the hand of the other. Dumbledore was the Binder."

Molly looked at him with sympathy in her eyes that might as well have been pity. "And the other one...the other vow?"

"Another to Dumbledore, to protect the students any way I could once he was gone. He wanted me to take over the school as Headmaster, should the Dark Lord take over the school" he lied, telling her the promise he'd made instead. "Mad-Eye was the Binder." That was safe enough, she couldn't disprove his claim.

"Will you watch over my children for me, Severus? Will you watch over Ginny and Ronald, too? Please."

He nodded once. "Yes, as best I can. You have my word."

She nodded at him, her expression reflecting absolute trust in his promise, so much so that it seared his soul. "I have to go." He aimed his wand at her forehead, and his blood seeped into her skin, binding her to keep everything he'd told her in the strictest confidences.

Her eyes narrowed in indignation. "I'd have kept your confidences, if only to hold you to your promise," she said.

"Yes, but the enchantment had to be sealed or you would have begun to bleed profusely from where I marked you," he reminded her. He turned and pulled his mask from his pocket. He felt emotionally drained. Hermione is all right. He'd learned she was unharmed, even though it had cost him to trust Molly with his secrets. At least here is one who knows on which side I remain, he assured himself. He wasn't completely alone. Arthur might not have trusted his previous warning, but she might convince Arthur to trust his warnings in the future.

He hoped that the other Order member was still assured of his loyalty. Time would tell.

"Severus?"

He turned, his mask in his hand.

"Thank you."

He nodded, turned, placed the mask on his face, feeling like shit, and Disapparated.

---

Severus wanted word on Hermione's whereabouts. The Dark Lord was still in a rage...not surprisingly. His spy, most likely Pettigrew, had given him a date and time when Potter would be outside and exposed. At a wedding...on a day when the entire Order of the Phoenix and several Aurors would be present, nonetheless.

After the Dark Lord ranted and raved about the botched attempt to snatch Potter from the Burrow, he'd ordered his Death Eaters to scour England for the boy, to go to places where Potter might have Apparated to and to every house or business associated with someone in the Order. Then he'd placed a Tracking Curse on his name, Voldemort, and evoked the trace through the connection in their Dark Marks.

Merlin, but that had hurt.

Severus needed to know if Hermione were all right. He Apparated to the top of the cliff that overlooked Hogwarts, the lake and Hogsmeade. He knew that the boy wouldn't have been the one to Apparate his friends away...Hermione would have. Potter was unlicensed and as far as he knew, he'd never successfully been able to Apparate before. Dolohov and Rowle had gone to Charring Cross Road, Travers and Merkle had been sent to the Leaky Cauldron, and Hurshiser, McCrae and Thortenson to Diagon Alley, not that Hermione would have been daft enough to go to any of those places. Ronald might...not Hermione; she'd know better.

Still, Severus feared it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

He withdrew the broom case, a canister the size of a tea tin, from his pocket and withdrew his broom. He knew the wards prohibiting broom flight over the school grounds had been reenacted, so he landed at the Shrieking Shack and entered the old house, taking the tunnel to the Whomping Willow. He cast a strong Immobilizing Charm on the tree and strode up the school grounds quickly under a Disillusionment Charm. He was pleased that the huge oak doors opened to his command. He hurried down to the dungeons and opened the door to his old office. Everything had been packed for storage. Convenient, as the little blighters will be putting it all in the Headmaster's rooms before September. "Altheda," he called out softly.

"Yes, Headmaster," she replied.

"So you've heard?" he asked, surprised. If she already acknowledged his role as Headmaster, then he'd have access to the Headmaster's Tower. Not that he wanted to see Dumbledore's portrait yet.

She nodded with a huge smile, saying, "Yes, of course. Ex-Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black has been boasting all over the castle; he heard it from his great-grandnephew, Cygnus Pollux Black, who was told by Abraxas Malfoy, that you are to be Headmaster next year. I'm so proud for you. Congratulations!"

"Don't be," he said, knowing that the upcoming year could be hugely problematic. "I'm going to take your frame with me."

"Okay, I'll visit Rosalba," she said.

"Inform her I'll be moving her frame as well," he said.

"All right," she said with a nod and slipped away.

He carefully lifted her frame and carried it with him. His old lab remained unchanged. Taking Rosalba's frame as well, he went to the gargoyle that stood sentry in front of what would now be his new office. But although the portraits had apparently all heard the news, the gargoyle had not, and no amount of arguing would sway the stone statue to grant him entry, so he stormed away. He hurried down to the dungeons again and entered the Slytherin common room. Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black hung in a place of honor in the Slytherin common room. He set the ladies paintings on the mantelpiece and gazed up at the portrait. "Headmaster Black, do you recognize my authority?" he asked the sleeping portrait.

"Yes, of course I recognize your authority," Phineas said imperiously as he opened his eyes. "I know the official announcement hasn't been made, but you are assuredly to be the next Headmaster of Hogwarts. Congratulations."

"Are you then honor-bound to give service to me as the present Headmaster of the school, and thus are you bound to keep my affairs secret and to protect the secrets of my office?" Severus asked. If he said yes, he'd be the first of the portraits to make the vow.

"Naturally. Yes," Phineas stated and automatically repeated the vow. His frame momentarily glowed in acknowledgement, sealing the vow.

Severus felt relieved. He had eyes and ears in Grimmauld Place. "The first thing I have need of you is to go to your house and let me know if Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are residing there."

"Yes, they are there, and what a racket they caused. Walburga is extremely upset at having those insolent brats in our home. She even came up to my frame, howling at me...so I left," Phineas sneered.

"Will you continue to spy on the Black house for me?" Severus asked, hoping he'd relent.

"But I can't hang around there all the time spying on those teenagers," Phineas said aghast. "I have better things to do than listening to that adolescent lamenting about his family, wondering what happened to everybody and complaining about having to do things for himself..."

"Altheda can help," Rosalba said from her frame, but Altheda quickly hushed her, "Don't remind him...!"

"Emily Beaumont wasn't the only artist to reuse her canvases, and because she did, you can slip into his frame," Rosalba said softly so as not to have Phineas overhear her. But Severus heard her clearly.

"Can you?' he asked, pleased by the revelation as Phineas spouted in indignation, "Of all the impertinent, underhanded, nosey witches...no, I won't have her crowding me!"

"Yes, I can, but he's right; it's rude to reassert my claim considering it's now his portrait," Altheda said. "Besides, Phineas hates sharing." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "It's a small frame."

"Headmaster Black, if you'd consent to sharing the responsibility, it would serve me well," Severus said, and the painted wizard scowled as if being forced into the inconvenience. "Thank you," he added.

"Ladies, I'll be carrying your frames home with me," he said, watching them disappear from view. He picked up the ladies' frames and headed home.

---

In a matter of one day since the raid on the Weasley wedding...and subsequently the incident at the café on Tottenham Court Road...the trace had reacted to the uses of the name, Voldemort, thirteen times from the same general location of number eleven and number thirteen, Grimmauld Place.

Then nothing.

The trace had random indications of the name being used over the next two days, but only an occasional utterance each time per location and none of them near the Black house.

Then on the fourth day, the trace indicated someone had used the name, Voldemort, again, eleven times in under half an hour, all emanating from the same place...in the general location of number eleven and number thirteen, Grimmauld Place. Headquarters. As if Potter really believed that that place was a secure hideout. Utterly unbelievable. If Severus were truly a Death Eater, devotedly loyal to the Dark Lord, Potter and his friends would be bound and kneeling before the Dark Lord by nightfall.

Apparently, either Potter was unaware of the trace, which was utterly inconceivable in Severus' mind considering the incident they'd had in the café, or Potter was arrogant enough to use the name indiscriminately with no regard to the consequences or that he'd put his friends in grave danger by doing so. But Hermione should have worked it out.

'Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself,' he remembered hearing Hermione say once a long time ago. The mere idea she would or could be so naïve angered him. He hoped for her sake, she'd realize that the trace was in place soon, or he'd have to find some way to tell her, and a Floo call or sending a letter by owl was not an option.

Severus left the Manor and Apparated to a bridge near the Hartshorne residence. Duane Hartshorne and Grantham Thortenson both turned, wands drawn, relaxing when they recognized it was him. "He agreed?" Grantham asked.

"I'm to find you and take you to...to... the house," he uttered since he still could not say Grimmauld Place, "with the instructions that we are to enter the house and capture Potter. The other two are of no concern to him." At first the pronouncement had sent a shiver of fear down Severus' spine. Thankfully, Severus had been able to slyly maneuver the Dark Lord into accepting that he take the two newly appointed Aurors with him. The plan was they were to meet up with his brethren on the street and enter the house, and between three Death Eaters and two Aurors, they should be able to subdue three teenagers.

"If Potter is there, what should we do?" Duane asked.

"We're not entering the house," Severus stated. "You'll have to conceal this, but I've been inside; there are curses on the premises designed to do away with me." He explained the curses. "Trust me when I say that Potter is not ready to face the Dark Lord. I was told that I would know, there would be a sign...a signal. It's too soon."

"Blimey, okay, so we don't go in," Grantham said. "But won't that be suspicious?"

"Not if you don't mind a little subterfuge," Severus suggested. He outlined a plan. First they would immobilize Mulciber and Pucey, and then use Inception Curse and Subicimency to ingrain them with the sufficient memories and instructions. Then Duane would cast the Tongue-Tying and Tongue-Swallowing Curses on Severus. It would take little acting to make Mulciber and Pucey think that Severus had attempted to Apparate directly into the house (as if hoping for the element of surprise) and barely escaped the house with his life. Grantham would act as if he'd missed the top step and landed on the pavement instead, his shoulder Splinched, apparently unable to get past the magical protections.

They arrived on the street and immediately Severus and Duane, flicked their wands, saying, "Petrificus Totalus," nearly in unison at Mulciber and Pucey, who were standing watch on the street. The two had been taken completely unawares. Then Severus cast the Inception Curse on the pair. Severus entered Mulciber's and then Pucey's minds; he instilled the images, creating a full memory of the botched attempt and gave them the instructions, "You will bear witness to my leaving the house in great distress and help the young Auror Hartshorne, save my life, and heal Auror Thortenson, who was Splinched, then report to the Dark Lord that I am unable to enter the house, nor can I take anyone with me."

Grantham nodded, and Severus cast a numbing charm on Grantham's shoulder, then used his Sectumsempra, slicing his sleeves and skin to make him appear to have been badly Splinched. He then carefully sang the cut closed enough to still have him bleed slightly. As Grantham held his hand on the cut, Duane then cast the Tongue-Tying Curse on Severus, making Severus' tongue curl back on itself. Severus then braced himself as Duane added the Tongue-Swallowing Curse on him, making his tongue slip to the back of his throat against the pharynx, causing him to choke violently.

Duane then walked over to Mulciber and Pucey and released the Body-Bind Curse as Grantham and Severus ran across the square of unkempt grass in front of the house to where the other's stood, Severus clutching his throat, utterly unable to breathe, fighting back the feeling of panic that rose up in him while Grantham kept his hand pressed firmly to his shoulder.

"It's the Tongue-Swallowing Curse!" Grantham called out, and Duane and Pucey immediately reversed the curses while Mulciber looked on in horror. "Now me...I've Splinched!"

"Good thing we held back, eh, Mulciber, or that would be you gasping as well," Duane stated as he finished Healing Grantham's cut with Dittany.

Mulciber looked as if he'd be sick.

The ruse worked perfectly and none were the wiser. The Dark Lord had been furious, but since Severus couldn't tell anyone of the location, nor apparently show them in either, the Dark Lord increased security on the street. Severus only suffered a short round of the Cruciatus, but for now, Hermione and her two idiot friends were safe.

---

On their fifth day in Grimmauld Place, Hermione decided it was time they slept in bedrooms. She went up to the bedroom on the second floor to make Harry's and Ron's beds since Kreacher had yet to return. Not that the old house-elf did much housekeeping at all when he was here, she mused ruefully. She took stock of the room. The room was a mess: the contents of the wardrobes were spewed on the floor as if whoever had been in there had just thrown things out as they searched, the bedclothes were all thrown back and, in the corner, the wastepaper basket had been overturned. A movement caught her eye...a lush green with a bit of silver as if someone had slipped out of the picture frame.

Shaking her head to dispel the notion, she turned to the task at hand. There were spells for this, she was sure, but she'd only ever watched Mrs. Weasley on a few occasions doing housework the magical way. Ginny was not a slob like Ron was and often made her bed without magic. What was the spell? Think.

Componere meant to put things in place, to arrange and settle things, or was it Compositum...to put together; arranged in order, in an orderly way? She should've paid better attention. She'd heard Mrs. Weasley use Disponere when they'd been cleaning here the summer before her fifth year, which in Latin meant to put things in different places, to distribute them and put in them order; and Dispositare was used to arrange nonvolatile items in an orderly fashion, such as to deposit then in order, methodically, but using that spell on volatile items would make them explode. She'd learned that the hard way.

She turned, catching a movement from the corner of her eye. The portrait was blank again. Whoever it was is certainly shy.

She turned back to the chore at hand. Stratum is Latin for a coverlet or blanket; she remembered Mrs. Weasley and Ginny mention that word. Vestitus means clothes, she definitely remembered them using that one in Ron's room, and Excutere would shake them out...to shake out clothes to find anything hidden in them. Considering no one has been in the house since Sirius died, well, not to live her at any rate, shaking them out would be a good thing. "Excutere," she said, aiming her wand, then made the broad sweeping motion as she added, "Componere vestitus," which only took care of half of the mess. However, "Compositum mess" worked nicely. Sighing, she made the beds the Muggle way. She righted the wastepaper basket and left the room.

She looked at the other doors. No point checking the master bedroom, and the boys can clean their own bathroom.

But she wanted a warmer blanket for herself.

On the third floor, the room Fred and George had used had been remarkably left alone. The wardrobes were open, however the beds were made, but the bedclothes had odd stains, most likely from the twins' experiments, and she didn't want to look in the old moldy cupboard. She walked to the next room. Remus' room.

Harry was still upset over Remus' desire to join them. On one hand his expertise would have been helpful, but Harry was right...Remus shouldn't have abandoned his family. She opened the door. This room was untouched as well. She took his quilt and carried it downstairs to her room. At least she'd be warmer.

"Hermione, where are you?" Ron called out.

"In my room," she shouted back and heard his thunderous footsteps on the stairs.

"Oi, there you are," he announced as if she hadn't specifically told him where she was. "What's for lunch?"

"Considering I've made your beds and sorted out your rooms for you, you can go make sandwiches with whatever you find in the cupboards," she replied.

When Ron wasn't lamenting about his family and the lack of news of anything going on, he forever wanted something to eat. The third day after Kreacher had gone, she'd left to go to the supermarket for food for dinner, buying things that were easy to make like a roast, vegetables, potatoes, soup in tins, bread, sliced meats and such. She'd returned and prepared the roast with vegetables, knowing that they could eat off the roast for a few days. But Ron had grumbled that her roast was too dry and whinged about missing Kreacher's miserable cooking. Hermione had left the kitchen and had gone up to her room to cry. After that, Harry helped with the cooking, but no matter what they prepared, Ron compared it to his mum's or Kreacher's cooking. The git.

"And don't even think to ask me to do your laundry," she added, turning on him.

"Whoa, no need to get angry; I was only asking," he said, backing up with his hands up in supplication. "Kreacher can do it when he gets back."

"You can do it," she said with her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Ron, don't you put everything on Kreacher. You'll have to do some of it for yourself."

"Right, I'll just leave you then," he said. "So when will you be down?"

"I'll help," Harry said from the doorway.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. You help him make sandwiches. I'll be down in a few minutes." She grabbed a blanket to finish making her bed. "And don't you wake Mrs. Black. I swear the Death Eaters in the street can hear her!" she shouted.

---

Hermione left the library and went looking for Harry, but he wasn't in his bedroom. However, (as often happened whenever she peered into their room) the image in the portrait slipped from the frame as soon as she opened the door. It was unnerving: every once and a while she'd see a glimpse of woman's lush, forest green velvet sleeve or a neat chignon with brown curls with an elaborately embroidered high collar with a green satin shawl and green velvet sleeve. But just as often she'd see an ear, short dark hair and a green collar with silver snakes and a dark green shoulder with the silver snake pin. It was like two people occupied the frame, and neither wanted her to see them. Shaking it off, she exited the room.

"I found the directions, Harry!" she tried calling for Harry to no avail.

She clutched the book to her chest and hurried up the stairs, calling out his name on each landing, finally finding him in Sirius' old bedroom again.

Ever since Kreacher returned with Mundungus (nine days after he'd disappeared to search for him), and they had learned that Umbridge had the locket Horcrux, they'd been trying to figure out ways to get it from her. Ron naturally suggested Hermione brew Polyjuice Potion again, as if she'd have all the ingredients necessary in her beaded bag, which she didn't. But then she didn't have the directions in her collection of books either.

However, after searching for a day and a half, and painstakingly working to break through the spells Professor Snape had set up on the Dark Arts section of the Black family library behind the desk, she'd found a copy of Moste Potente Potions. "I did it, Harry, I finally broke through the spells," she announced entering the room, extremely proud of herself.

He looked up from the stack of letter's he'd been sorting. "Did you find it?"

"They actually have a copy of the book," she said, showing him the cover. "Did you find Sirius' potions kit?"

"Yeah, but it's not great," Harry stated, pointing to the old school trunks. "Sirius' old cauldron is dented a bit on one side, and Regulus' is a bit rusty. He didn't have much in the way of any ingredients. I set up everything they had in the attic."

"No bother, I have my cauldron," she said.

He glanced at the clock. "When is Ron coming back?"

As part of their plans on retrieving the locket, Ron had suggested stalking out the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and it was decided that they would take turns under the cloak. "Well, he said he was going to watch and see who leaves for lunch, so he should be there from eleven to one."

"I still think that first thing in the morning would be better than noon," Harry said. He set the picture of him on a child's broom and the letter his mum wrote to Sirius aside and rose to his feet.

"I dunno, Harry, there might be less people about during the lunch hour," she said, gazing at the picture of baby Harry on his child-sized broom. Seeing the image again, a few things bugged Hermione: Dumbledore had Harry's father's cloak. Why? He hadn't needed it, so why take it from Harry's dad? And what did Lily think was incredible about Dumbledore? The tone in the letter made Hermione think that whatever it was that Lily had found out had been terrible. And Wormy had been there the day before she'd written the letter at their hiding place, looking troubled...could he have taken the Dark Mark at that point? Had he been feeling guilty about what he was about to do?

"Shall we see what ingredients we have and what we'll need?"

"What?" she asked, breaking from her thoughts. "Right." She pulled her beaded bag from her pocket as Harry opened the book to her marker. "I'm missing loads. Anything that the Blacks had would be so old, it would most likely be useless." She sorted out her ingredients on the bed and made a list of everything she'd need. Her list consisted of over half of the ingredients needed. She rattled off the list. "I don't see how I'm going to get any of this without going to Diagon Alley," she said with a sigh. "And that's not an option. I'd be seen...it's too risky."

"Give me the list," Harry said, taking the piece of paper. "I'll ask Kreacher, maybe he can get them."

---

Severus sat in his sitting room, enjoying a few minutes to himself with an epic poem by Jeanne Antoinette Cronin-Ladd, published in 1778, when the bell jingled from the frame on his side table. He set down his book and turned to look at the painting.

"Is it safe? Are you alone?"

"Yes," he replied, giving her his full attention. He hoped it wasn't bad news. Please tell me they haven't gone to the Ministry at this hour. He'd already warned Raithe, Duane, Grantham and Raymond about Weasley's plan, and the young Aurors said they'd be on the alert so they could do what they could to assist Potter, Weasley and Hermione to get the locket that had been stolen from Grimmauld Place. The minute that Hermione and her two friends showed their faces in the Minstry, he knew all hell would break loose. But not knowing exactly when Hermione and her friends would be sneaking into the Ministry and whom they intended to steal it from was unnerving. Severus wanted enough advance notice as to when the insane plan was to occur so he'd have time to activate the pendants.

He hoped that whatever was in the locket was worth the risk retrieving it.

"I overheard the young people talking about going to Diagon Alley from Alphard Sirius Black's frame, Severus," Altheda said softly. "I think they are going to try and get the ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion."

Shite, she couldn't go there, it is heavily monitored. There has to be a way to send her what she needs without raising suspicions. Besides, several of the ingredients were on the restricted lists, and anyone attempting to buy them without prior authorization would be immediately arrested.

An idea came to him. That elf who adores Potter, the one Potter freed from Lucius' service... He gave Hermione the Felix Felicis for me, so he might be able to... "Who was the Hogwarts house-elf with the clothes and all the hats?" he asked, hoping if he called the elf, he'd answer. The board of supervisors had met, those not willing to comply with the Dark Lord had been replaced, and the remaining members confirmed the new appointments to the board: Aubry, Gideon, Grey, Malfoy and Rushbridge. However, Severus had yet to hear about his appointment as Headmaster.

"I think his name is Dubby...no, Dobby, Severus," she replied. "Shall I go to the castle and see if I can find him?"

"No, thank you. If the house-elves know I've been made headmaster as well, then I should be able to summon one." He called out clearly, "Dobby, if you can hear me, I have need of your assistance."

He waited.

Nothing.

"Dobby, I...Harry Potter has need of your assistance. Please come to me."

There was a loud pop.

Naturally that worked.

"Dobby hears you, so-to-be-Headmaster, sir," the elf said from behind the sofa. "What does sir want of Dobby?"

"Do you know where Harry Potter...or more specifically his friend, Miss Hermione Granger, is? Don't say where, just answer yes or no."

The elf laughed uncomfortably before mumbling, "Dobby does, sir" after a long pause.

"I want you to go to my personal potions stores at the school, pack up everything into a crate and take it to Miss Granger. Do not be seen. Do you understand me, do not be seen."

"Dobby will do as you ask, sir, for Harry Potter. Dobby will nots be seen, sir," the elf replied.

Severus heard a loud pop, indicating that the elf had gone. "Altheda, please go back and let me know the minute the crate arrives."

"Yes, Severus," she said and disappeared from her frame. He smirked. He could claim that his stores had been cleared out the same time his personal effects had been boxed up and no one would be the wiser. He'd just put in a request and replenish his stores before school started.

---

Hermione was practicing the Disillusionment Charm with Harry in the Drawing Room mostly because, after a few near mishaps on the front step, she thought it was advisable. "If you're Disillusioned and the cloak slips again, no one will be the wiser," she'd insisted that morning. Harry was better at it than Ron, since Harry knew that she was right. Harry was certain his elbow might have been seen when he'd returned from watching the Ministry entrance last time, and Ron had admitted to having slipped on arrival as well.

"Why botfer? We juf 'ave to wach' our balance," Ron said, his mouth full of fresh hot bun. "Nehx' time, 'Arry, lean forward, nof back."

"Yeah, thanks, Ron," Harry said sarcastically, turning to face Hermione again as Ron left the house. He tapped the top of his head with his wand and said the incantation.

Hermione smiled as he slowly disappeared from head to his toes. "Excellent, you did it perfectly! I can't see you at all." She waited, expecting him to reverse the spell. Then a pillow shifted from the nearest chair, catching her attention, and it and the seat cushion depressed. "Well, except for that," she said, laughing as she pointed to the bum-shaped depression.

Harry came back in view. "But you didn't see me move away. I watched you, and your eyes didn't follow me," he said proudly.

There was a loud resounding crack, followed by another, coming from the general area of her bedroom. Harry and Hermione looked at each other and ran for the door. Suddenly there was another loud resounding crack from below them, coming from the kitchen, followed by another softer pop.

"What the...?"

Hermione looked at Harry, and he turned, running for the kitchen.

"Could it be Kreacher?" she called out, hurrying after him.

"He never makes that much racket," Harry called back.

Hermione entered the room behind Harry, only to see Kreacher and Dobby pulling tug-of-war with a wooden crate on the floor. "Oh, nos!" Dobby squeaked and struggled harder to gain control of the box. "Yous is not to takes it; Dobby is to gives this to Harry Potter's friend and leaves unseen," Dobby was yelling.

"Kreacher will check disgusting ingredients before Kreacher wills allow them in my Mistress' home," the old elf loudly croaked back.

"Kreacher, let go of the box," Harry said softly, more a request than a demand. Kreacher immediately let go, making Dobby fall unceremoniously on his bum, and the crate, which had toppled over, forgotten as he stared at Harry wide-eyed.

"Harry Potter," Dobby said in awe.

"He brings things that should not be in my Mistress' house! Kreacher is only protecting his Mistress' house from unsavory, dangerous poisons and nasty, bad ingredients," he mumbled as he walked away.

"Dobby, what's all this?" Hermione asked, peering into the crate.

"Dobby is a bad elf. Dobby is nots to be seen," Dobby said, grabbing a big tin to hit himself with, but Harry, anticipating the act, grabbed his wrist. "Dobby will have to scald his feet!"

"NO!!" both Hermione and Harry said.

"No, Dobby, just make yourself invisible, then I won't be able to see you," Harry suggested. Dobby snapped his fingers, and the tin in his hand appeared to be floating in the air by itself. "Now, where did this all come from?"

Dobby made strangling noises before he mumbled, "Dobby is not to say."

"Okay, so you cannot tell me," Harry prompted, his hands up as if to catch Dobby, "but is there anything in there that will harm us?"

Dobby seemed to struggle again, making strangling noises again before finally, uttering, "Yes. Bad ingredients, poison ingredients, things that can explode!"

"So, normal potions ingredients then," Hermione said as she continued to examine the potion ingredients in the box, amazed at all of them. "Harry... they all have labels..." but stopped herself from saying, 'in Professor Snape's handwriting.' It was as if Dobby had cleared out Professor Snape's personal stores. "Boomslang skin. Basilisk skin... Lace wing flies, muddaubers, lacewort, silvereye lichen..."

Harry had grabbed a large jar. He looked at the label and then up at her. "Snape's handwriting." He looked at where the big tin floated an inch off the table. "Dobby, did this come from Hogwarts?"

A heavy thud sounded as if Dobby hit himself with the tin. "Dobby was," thunk, "nots to," thunk, "be seen!"

"Dobby, we can't see you!" Harry emphasized, and the elf set down the tin.

"Dobby how...where did you get these?" Hermione asked, holding a large jar of salamander blood.

"Dobby can'ts say! Dobby is nots to say! Dobby was to gives ingredients to... to...!" Dobby lamented and then Apparated quickly with a pop.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione looked at Harry. "It's from Professor Snape, I'm certain of it," she said.

"Hermione, there is no way he'd send you ingredients," Harry said, setting the jar in the table. "Dobby must have heard us, or me, talking about needing the ingredients."

"All of this? If Dobby was only bringing me what I needed, then why did he bring me all of this?" she asked with a sweep of her hand. "Really, Harry, there is a fortune in here!" She held up two containers. "All of it with Professor Snape's handwritten labels and in large amounts...even the valuable and rare ones. I can brew anything we need with all of this!" She had no idea how it would all fit in her bag, but hoped it would.

"Don't you remember? Dobby gave me gillyweed from Snape's stores in fourth year," Harry argued. "How is this different? He must have cleared out Snape's stores and brought them to us since he didn't know exactly what you wanted."

"Professor Snape!" Hermione snapped. "I know I'm right."

Harry walked out of the room, calling her mental.

It didn't matter, she was right, she knew it, deep down she knew it. Her thoughts turned to Severus as she carefully lined the containers up on the table to take stock of exactly what was in the crate. This is the second time Dobby has brought me something from him, and both times he said he couldn't be seen. She had fifty of the containers out and the crate still looked full. She put the leeches next to the muddaubers and various caterpillars, the fluxweed with the asphodel, lemongrass and mugwort, and then she pulled out powdered bicorn horn and stared at the canister.

It was as if he had some way of knowing that she needed potion supplies and sent them to her. Only, that didn't seem right; if he had a way of knowing what she needed, then why send her all this? Why not send her what she specifically needed?

She looked at them, all of them. There were so many.

She removed three large silver tins.

The labels read: Powered Unicorn Horn, Powered Unicorn Hoof and Powered Unicorn Liver.

Hermione immediately covered her mouth, remembering the day they'd harvested the young unicorn. Used in very powerful healing potions... They couldn't be from the foal we harvested, that was ages ago, she thought touching her unicorn charm. She checked to see if there was a date. 1995. Her fifth year or the second term of her fourth? It didn't matter, she thought, placing the canisters back in the crate. She knew the ingredients were viable and if she knew Severus Snape at all, the efficacy would be strong enough for any potions she brewed.

Hermione carefully packed all the ingredients back into the crate.

She had what she needed to begin the Polyjuice Potion.

She tried to heft the crate up, finding it hard to lift. She pulled out her wand, saying, "Relevo" while encircling the crate, then carried it up to the attic. She was thankful, but still, the gift was extraordinary even for him.

---

Hermione was upstairs in the attic, doing the next step of the Polyjuice Potion when Ron came up and leaned against the worktable, nearly making the pomegranate juice and bubotuber pus topple over. Bad enough she had the Bulbadox powder lying open on the table. "Watch it! If those mix, it will cause an explosion."

"Did you read this?" he asked, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Mandy's house was raided, and Mandy and her father, Peter Brocklehurst, were arrested. The article claimed that they stole their magic and that they are criminal infiltrators because Peter Brocklehurst is a Muggle-born." Ron had stated, throwing down the paper. "Mandy's mother, Louise Brocklehurst, was captured at the Ministry when he came into work, too."

"Where did her mother work...which department?" Hermione asked, stirring her cauldron. Between the steps of the Polyjuice Potion, she had started brewing a batch of Bruise Paste using the directions in Harry's, er, Severus' Potions book.

"Magical Floo Connection office...she was pretty high up," Ron stated. "She was the one who approved Muggle Floo connections and assigned Muggle permits. Dad spoke to her when we wanted to connect the Dursley's home to the network for half an hour." He launched into the story about being trapped between the fireplace and the electric fireplace the Dursley's used. She'd heard the story before, but let him talk. It was Harry's turn to monitor the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and she could tell that Ron was obviously bored. At least he wasn't whinging.

"So, tell me, why did you have to go foraging for ingredients?" he asked, picking up a jar of nettles she'd picked as well. "I thought Dobby stole you everything you needed."

She fought back the urge to tell him that Professor Snape had sent them, but knew that neither Harry nor Ron believed her. 'Fresh nettles have more sting,' she remembered Severus telling her when he was younger. "Some plants need to be freshly harvested so that the milk or sap is still fresh," she stated. Actually, she'd wanted to be alone for a while to think, and she couldn't have done it while on her shift watching the Ministry.

There had been many nights she'd laid in her bed, staring at the patterns of the shadows on her ceiling, contemplating the gift of the potion ingredients and wondered how Professor Snape knew to have Dobby given them to her. Was she just being hopeful, wanting him to still be watching out for her, or was Harry right, Dobby had heard them and stolen everything, thinking that Professor Snape wasn't coming back to the school.

Hermione had peeked into Harry's room earlier and caught a glimpse of Altheda in the frame, but Harry had told her it was Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait. She'd searched the house for Altheda's portrait, knowing that she'd have to have one in the house in order to enter the frame of Phineas Black, which could explain why she kept seeing either Phineas Nigellus Black or Altheda in the same frame...but since there was no portrait of Altheda in the house, it only confounded Hermione. However, Hermione knew that since Altheda could enter the frame it was possible that she'd told Professor Snape that she needed the ingredients.

She set down the stirring rod and wistfully remembered brewing with him in his private lab. It was an honor she was certain he hadn't granted anyone else.

She sighed. It had been a tough week. Hermione's name had appeared in the Daily Prophet on the list of Muggle-borns wanted for interrogation.

Then Harry came home the next day with a Daily Prophet, announcing that Severus Snape had been given the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts. Ron had wanted to burn Professor Black's portrait upon hearing the news, so Hermione had tucked the eleven-by-fourteen portrait safely into her beaded purse.

And more Death Eaters were lurking around on the pavement outside the house, staring at the place where the door would be if they could see the place. That really unnerved Hermione, let alone Harry, although Ron was not as concerned.

The potion would be ready in a week. Ron was getting increasingly frustrated, making them go over the plans in detail to the point where Hermione mumbled them in her sleep.

---

Megan Jones, Wayne Hopkins and William Summers had been captured and brought to the Muggle-born Registration Commission for interrogation. Naturally, they had been found guilty of stealing magic and sentenced to Azkaban. Professor Bathsheda Babbling had likewise been brought before the MRC and found guilty of having illegally appropriated her magical ability since her parents were confirmed to have been Muggle-born.

So now, Severus had to replace Professor Bathsheda Babbling. Amycus Carrow had already been offered the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Alecto Carrow agreed to replace Charity Burbage as Professor of Muggle Studies. He dreaded knowing what her idea of Muggle Studies would entail, and she'd yet to produce a syllabus or book list.

He was walking up to the Manor when Catherine Chittenden-Flint approached him. "Professor Snape, may I impose upon you?"

He turned to look upon her with feigned agitation. If she approached him so boldly, she had news to impart. "What do you want, I'm expected," he intoned dryly.

"We were invited to dinner, but I've need to leave, and my husband must stay for the meeting," she replied and placed a hand on her abdomen. "I'm told I shouldn't Apparate myself, and the Floo bangs me around so horribly. Could you please see me to my mother's?"

He was early enough. "Certainly," he replied with the air of reluctance, hoping their act convinced anyone who may have overheard them. He walked with her to the gate, then let her clasp his arm. They arrived at the gate of the lovely London house, and he followed her inside. "Now, what have you to tell me?" he asked, wasting no time.

Unperturbed by his gruffness, she turned to face him, wasting no time on polite offerings. "I'm aware that you need to find a new Ancient Runes professor, and I know the Dark Lord has not appointed anyone yet. I may have a solution for you," she replied with a sly smile. "A friend of my Grandmother's, William Lundergan, is very proficient in the ancient languages. He was a curator at the Cryptanthus National Magical Archives in Italy for several years, and he hasn't the stomach for some of the Dark Lord's... activities as of late. Ask him to teach Ancient Runes."

"But where are his loyalties?" Severus asked. Lundergan was a new recruit, but he'd been friendly with the Chittenden and Greengrass families for years.

"He's a supporter, but I feel he is not as devoted as he'd like everyone to believe. If it weren't for his extensive knowledge in the ancient languages and runes, the Dark Lord would have done away with him months ago," she replied softly. "Ask him, befriend him, and win him over to our side. He's a decent man who was drawn in because of his knowledge and family ties. If anything else, he will appreciate the opportunity to not have to do any more of the Dark Lord's tasks."

Easier said than done, he scoffed. He felt his Mark sear slightly and knew he couldn't dally any longer. Tonight would be quite busy. "I have to go. I'll make the suggestion."

"Thank you," she said with a warm smile. "I think he'll be grateful and prove to be a fine professor. He certainly knows the subject."

Severus thanked her and left quickly, Apparating close to the gates. He walked swiftly up to the manor and into the drawing room. At least he wasn't the last arrival, Krause Crabbe and Eugene Nott arrived after he had.

"Ah, Severus," the Dark Lord said as soon as he noticed his presence. "How are the preparations for the school?"

Severus moved forward and bowed. "It goes well." He outlined everything that had been done to date. Severus mentioned casually, after a long list of mundane administrative forms and reports he'd filed with the appropriate people and committees, that with Babbling's death, he needed an Ancient Runes professor. "Why don't I give Lundergan something useful to do?"

"Interesting choice. I hadn't realized you haven't filled the post," the Dark Lord said, placing a finger on his lips. His gaze swept over to where Lundergan stood next to Lucius against the wall. "He is a weakling. He doesn't seem to have the stomach needed to do what is necessary for our cause, and he does have a propensity for the art."

Severus waited as the Dark Lord considered his proposal. Across the room, Lundergan, fidgeted slightly under the Dark Lord's stare. "Yes, I'll grant permission." He called Lundergan over to him.

Lundergan paled, then walked over quickly and knelt, but Severus could tell the man was terrified of having been singled out. Maybe Catherin is right, he thought. Severus watched Lundergan's face and posture carefully while keeping his own expression neutral as the Dark Lord put forth the request as if it had been his decision. Lundergan began to show some moisture on his upper lip, but looked immensely relieved, vowing to do his utmost and swore that he'd not disappoint either Severus or the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord dismissed him and turned to the others. "My faithful followers," he began as he addressed those gathered in the room.

As usual, the Dark Lord ranted for a while, cursing a few who'd disappointed him lately, granting praise to those who had performed well, and stirring up the eagerness of the zealots in the room to what opportunities he had for them to further his goals for supremacy. The energy built until many of those gathered were in a stated of anticipated euphoria. Assignments were made and the men and women dispersed.

~ T. B. .C. ~

Author's Notes:

Subicimens comes from combining subicio + mens: Subicio means in Latin: to throw or place under, to submit , subject, to put into a mind, suggest, to substitute, insert by guile, counterfeit.

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

cello - are[to hide , conceal, keep secret] /+ inaudire [to hear]; esp. [to hear as a secret].

Membrum, I'm told, is Latin for limbs