6

Thanks again and still to Ayerf and Septentrion for their help. All mistakes are my own fault.

Snape watched Hermione sleep with mixed feelings. On the one hand, her falling asleep in the office meant he had to transfer her to the bed. He would have much preferred she had done that on her own steam as he wanted to expend as little energy on her as possible. On the other hand, it was nice to know that she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Almost everyone distrusted him now, so having someone who wasn't a dunderhead or insane trust him was... gratifying.

It was also rather gratifying to know that he was able to do something good for her. She had lost at least a stone since he'd last seen her, the idiot girl. He wondered what they had subsisted on over the winter. It couldn't have been either hearty or tasty though, judging by her weight, skin tone and the way she'd devoured the soup.

He would still rather she and Weasley were with Potter, though.

His mind wandered to Weasley, and he wondered if she had told the boy her feelings yet. He felt his heart ache a little for her, knowing what she would be going through soon. There was little hope Weasley would survive the wound. The only hope he had was to die without pain.

Snape snorted softly, realizing that the boy and he had something in common there.

"Was the chain really necessary, Severus?" a hushed voice questioned behind him. He turned to find Albus looking at Hermione with a somber expression.

"Probably not, but you never know when Amycus will be roaming the castle."

Dumbledore nodded in his frame, and finally turned his eyes to Severus.

"Minerva, Filius and Septima are not going to like this."

Snape snorted again, this time a little louder, causing Hermione to shift in her chair. Snape held a finger up to Dumbledore to pause the conversation, then aimed his wand at Hermione, floating her out of the chair, and into the bedroom.

It was fortunate that his bed was on the large side; she fit next to Weasley without making Snape worry about Weasley's health. Once she was curled up on the bed with a blanket covering her, Snape returned to the office, shutting the door behind him quietly.

Dumbledore beamed at him. He scowled back.

"Don't say it, Albus."

"But it is so good to see!"

"You're believing what you want to believe."

Dumbledore's beard twitched. "Perhaps, but you never could deceive me."

Snape's shoulder twitched as if wanting to shrug before he sat down at the desk with a sigh. "Getting back to the topic, I know bloody well that Minerva, Filius and Septima are going to be after my skin for this. I'm not sure that it won't be the final straw for them."

Dumbledore hummed in agreement. "You could stage a conversation to make them question your motives."

"You know very well that Alecto would like nothing better than to succeed me in this position, Albus."

"I was thinking you could have the conversation with her."

"Ah, yes, that's a jolly good idea there! 'Alecto, darling, don't you like how well I'm treating my pet mu--'" Snape's voice hitched on the word, and he stopped, shaking his head once more.

"I don't know if I can do this, Albus."

"You'll find a way, Severus. You always do." He could almost imagine Dumbledore's hand resting on his shoulder, supportively. Having it only a figment made it even more difficult to shrug off.

"And if I don't?" he asked to his desk.

"You will have done your best."

Snape groaned, thinking that was cold comfort, indeed.

*

He woke up later that morning with a crick in his neck. He lifted his head up off the desk to see what time it was, only to come face to face with Poppy Pomfrey. She was observing him with an inscrutable expression, although he could discern both anger and hurt. The latter confused him, as he couldn't think what he had done that could have hurt or offended her personally. Besides the obvious crimes against humanity, that was.

Seeing he was awake, she pursed her lips tighter, as if trying to physically hold back the words she wanted to throw at him.

Feeling caught out and vulnerable, Snape donned his best sneer. "Is there anything I can do for you, Poppy?"

"You..." She shut her mouth tight again and took a deep breath. "I need to see to Mr. Weasley and then teach Miss Granger how to care for him, if you still insist on keeping him out of my care."

He bowed his head shortly and waved his hand at the bedroom door. "Be my guest."

She gave him another hard stare, sniffed, then turned and went about her business, leaving him to wake up properly.

He turned to Dumbledore and hissed, "You could have woken me!"

Dumbledore merely smiled. "She has sworn to heal, not harm. You weren't in danger, my boy."

Snape growled, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "You know very well what I meant!"

Dumbledore didn't answer, though. He just smiled and twinkled his thrice damned twinkle, while Phineas hid a chortle with a cough. Snape turned to glare at the Black bastard, but Phineas merely raised an eyebrow at him condescendingly.

Giving it up as a lost cause, Snape turned his attention to freshening himself up with a couple of charms. He then stretched and decided he had given Poppy enough time to secretly re-dope Weasley if needed. He entered his bedroom to find Hermione just waking up, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely, while Poppy muttered something under her breath over the boy.

"Will he be conscious today?" he asked in as cool tone as possible.

Poppy ignored him, still muttering. Hermione turned at the sound of his voice, but she only looked at him briefly before turning her anxious gaze to Weasley.

"How is he?" she asked Poppy in a hushed voice.

"Holding steady," Poppy answered, giving Hermione a sympathetic look. "At this point there isn't much we can do for him but make him comfortable, though."

Hermione's breath hitched and her hand flew to her heart. "He's d...dying?"

Poppy stopped waving her wand and looked at Hermione more closely, her shoulders slumping as she did. "That poison is a vicious one, dear. I will do my best, but..."

Hermione choked back a sob and nodded.

"So, what can I do for him?"

Poppy smiled and proceeded to show Hermione what she would need to do. Snape quietly exited, hoping Poppy would give Hermione a stash of the sleeping draught she'd plied Weasley with earlier that morning.

Letting out a big breath, a huff as much as a sigh, he sat down at his desk and finished off the remaining paperwork from the previous day.

He hated this job. He was starting to understand just why Dumbledore had been such a manipulative sod – the job had driven him to it. Well that, and his natural talent for it.

The only good thing about the loads of paperwork the job brought every bloody day was that he had a built in excuse for ignoring Hermione. The Dark Lord had virtually told him to put work before pleasure, so all he needed to do was make sure he had sufficient work to keep him occupied. Or at least look occupied should anyone respectable visit. With the Carrows or Voldemort, all he'd need to say was that he'd chained Hermione to the bed.

He leaned back in his chair, feeling slightly ill at what the night had wrought. Before he could think much on it, though, Poppy came out of the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her.

She gave him a stern look, although it lacked the vitriol she'd been giving him ever since he'd killed Albus. She looked like she'd been crying.

"Severus," she started, warning Snape that something was off right away. She hadn't used his first name since he'd killed Albus, either.

He held up a hand and shook his head. "I will not have you lecturing me, Madam. I suggest you go back to the hospital and see to any students there and leave me be."

She pinched her mouth again, but nodded. "I was just going to say..." She paused, looking insecure for a moment, but then her face hardened as she looked up at the picture of Dumbledore behind Snape. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Snape snorted derisively, although inwardly he couldn't decide whether he was touched or appalled at this new development. "Yes. You are dismissed."

She nodded and gave him one last unsure look before leaving the office. Snape immediately turned to Dumbledore.

"What did you tell her?" he demanded, his dismay overruling any warmth he may have felt for Poppy's display.

Dumbledore raised his brows in mock surprise. "I only serve the current headmaster of Hogwarts. I am unable to tell her anything."

"Bullshit!" Snape growled, causing Dumbledore to chuckle while other headmasters and headmistresses berated him on his language. He waved them silent, still glaring at Dumbledore. "What did you do, if you didn't say anything?"

Dumbledore smiled down at his beard. "I didn't do anything." He then had the audacity to wink.

Snape growled again, but got the message. Poppy had figured him out when she saw him asleep at the desk, while Hermione and Weasley were sleeping comfortably, unmolested, in his bed. He couldn't have made his intentions clearer to her, could he?

He swore again, raising another round of chastisements which he ignored. "Albus..."

"She will be the soul of discretion, Severus. Do not worry on that front. You will need someone on your side, though."

"Miss Granger was one too many people in the know," Severus hissed angrily, "but at least I can be assured she won't have the chance to tell anyone! With Poppy... You are playing with my life, old man!"

"She won't tell."

Snape spun around to find Hermione watching him from the bedroom doorway.

"And how would you know that?" he snarled, directing all of his anger at her.

Her mouth thinned at his tone, but otherwise she stood her ground. "She promised me."

The absurd simplicity of that statement made Snape laugh. "And it is so difficult to break a promise!"

She and Dumbledore frowned in unison, making Snape scowl and throw up his hands. "You bloody Gryffindors think that everyone will stand by their word!" He advanced on her as he ranted until he was towering over her, forcing her to look up at him. "Well, shall this sneaky, slimy Slytherin tell you the truth? People lie!"

Hermione had her hands on her hips and was looking at him with a fierce expression. He braced himself for a diatribe, but was surprised when she said, "And thank God for that."

He took a step back to look at her better, speechless.

"If people didn't lie, then Bellatrix would know you had put the fake sword in her vault. If people didn't lie, then Voldemort would know that you're not loyal to him. If people didn't lie..." She seemed to run out of steam suddenly, although when she looked over at Dumbledore's portrait, her face grew hard once more. "If people didn't lie," she continued softly, "then different people might have died."

She sighed sadly and walked over to the chair she'd sat in the night before, collapsing into it with a thump.

She closed her eyes and leaned back, looking far older than nineteen. "Madam Pomfrey won't tell on you, Professor. She won't let it slip because she honestly cares for the students at this school. She honestly cares for the teachers. She honestly cares for you and me and Ron. And she knows that one slip is all it would take to kill us."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "And that is exactly what I am afraid of, Miss Granger! She now has the power to kill us."

Hermione laughed hollowly. "So did Dumbledore. "

"Yes, and look where that got him," he sneered. He was pleased to note her eyes widen and her breath quicken in fear, and then came the expected hardening of her features into a scowl. He was not expecting her to direct that scowl away from him and toward Albus.

"I hope you were properly ashamed of yourself, sir," she said to the portrait. Dumbledore looked as surprised as Snape felt. He also looked surprisingly contrite.

"Yes, Miss Granger. For Severus, for Harry and for many others, I was more than just ashamed of myself."

Shaking her head in what looked like disgust, she turned back to Snape. "You may think Harry is a fool, Professor, and judging by the way he acts at times, you may have a point. But he is right in having us trust one another."

"Ah, trust. I was wondering when that lovely term would be brought up. I see your point, Miss Granger. So clearly do I see it, that I will hold a staff meeting right now and tell them every secret I possess. And then we will hug and make up and tell the big, bad Dark Lord to go away so we can live in peace and harmony."

He shot her a glare. "Do grow up and join the real world."

She glared right back at him, and stood up. "I'll take your advice into consideration, sir," she said in a frosty voice. "But for now I need to go tend to Ron."

She then stormed across the room and shut herself into the bedroom. Snape looked up at the ceiling as if for guidance before kicking the foot of the desk.

He hoped to hell that Potter would kill the Dark Lord very soon. He didn't really want another murder on his conscience.

The worst part, though, was knowing she was right. He heaved a large sigh and turned to follow her.