Chapter 60

A/N: My thanks to WriterMerrin for her extraordinary work on this chapter. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and again, please review! I love each and every one I get. The OWL Awards are soon coming to a close. Please go over and nominate your favorite fics before it's too late!

***

"We have a lot to talk about," Hermione said as Severus dressed.

"I realize that. Thus the reason for my getting dressed," he said as he slipped on his boots.

"I need you to know something, but I need you to keep calm about it."

Severus rumpled his long hair with his long, white fingers then rubbed his eyes. "I hate it when you do that, Hermione. I can't promise that. So just tell me."

"Ginny Weasley said that Harry received an interesting textbook when he began Potions this year. It bears the label 'The Half-Blood Prince.'"

Severus eyes grew furious. "Why?" he said, his voice growing testy.

"Don't ask me!" she said defensively. She pointed a finger at him. "You obviously left it behind when you moved your storage items from the dungeons to the Defense storerooms. Why on earth you kept that book out..."

"...It's a teaching manual!" he snapped.

"Well, it's now become more than that. He's using the spells in there, you realize. He already, according to Ron and Ginny, has become proficient in Muffilato, Levicorpus, and Langlock. He studies it constantly as his reference guide for all his Potions work. It will be only a matter of time until he discovers one of your darker spells."

Severus began to pace the room. "Have you confronted him about the book?"

"Yes," she answered, to which Severus threw his hands in the air.

Hermione gasped. "I needed to know how badly he was connected to it! I remember how hard you worked on your Potions books." She gave him a suspicious glance.

"Hold it. Did you place a dark spell on it?" she breathed.

Severus avoided looking her in the eye. "Well, that answers it!" she said as she tore the sheets off her as she got up from the bed. "There is no way he will hand it over now. It also explains his obsession with finding out who the 'Prince' is."

"He wants to find me out?" he asked with an incredulous look on his face.

Hermione gave him a saccharine sweet smile. "Ironic, isn't it? Harry always claimed he never could learn anything from you, and look at him now! His Potions grades have never been better."

Severus smirked at her sarcastically. "Well, we need a plan. I will try to keep an eye on him, but I can't make any promises."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"I'll tell you later. Can you stay for Christmas?" he asked as he put his cloak back on. "I'd really like to spend some time with you alone."

He kissed her, and Hermione nuzzled his neck with her face. "I suppose we should take advantage of whatever time we can steal. Things are getting desperate now."

"Yes," he replied, sounding a bit sad. "There are things I cannot tell you now, but in time, I shall. Love me, Hermione. Remember the promises you and I made to each other?"

"I promised that even if the world were to turn its back on you, I wouldn't."

He closed his eyes. "Yes," he breathed. "You will hold to it?"

"I will."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I'll hold to you as well, and I will never stop loving you. Remember, Hermione. No matter what the future brings, I will love you, and that will never change."

They smiled as the magic around them swirled. "Why does it do that?" Hermione mused as she watched the sparkling rainbow of shimmering colors swirl about them.

"I don't know," he whispered. He looked at her. "It comforts me, though," he said quietly.

They kissed again, and he was gone. Hermione placed her hand on the door and ran her fingers along the grain of the wood. There were terrible times ahead. She could feel it. But she willed herself to remain in the present time.

I'm here today, she thought. Tomorrow can wait.

***

"Stealth and Tracking almost did me in," explained Tonks. "That's why I've handed you off to Savage. He's the best."

Hermione nodded and finished off her morning tea. "Fine. How do we go about this?"

Savage placed his arms on the table and said, "From our previous conversations, you've got stealth spot on. You know how to blend into a crowd when you need to and all that. However, you've never had to actually 'track' anybody. We need you to know how to be offensive in your thinking. Defense is your first reaction."

"I'm off," said Tonks. "Good luck."

Hermione said a hasty goodbye and turned back to Savage. "Now," he whispered carefully as he leaned in closer, "I know what I'm about to say is unorthodox; hell, it may even be illegal, but you know what?" he asked as he glanced around the room cautiously. "It'll be bloody well worth it. Now let's go."

Hermione followed Savage outside and Apparated with him into Muggle London.

Hermione looked out of the alley they were in. "Why are we here?"

Savage smiled. "We're here to meet our contact. And there he is!"

"Cor Blimey, Savage, you old cocker!" Mundungus Fletcher wheezed. "Ain't it enough I got bloody 'Arry Potter on me arse? Now the Aurors are comin' for me too?"

"Dung," Savage said as he placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "We all know you and Sirius were old friends; hell, even he didn't want the shite. He's probably up there in heaven laughing his arse off at the thought of the ruddy Black fortune being peddled in Knockturn Alley!"

"Eh, an' what about 'er?" he asked, suspiciously pointing at Hermione.

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "What about me, Dung?" she challenged him. "D'you think I'm gonna turn in the only person who agreed with Severus that Sirius was better off dead than living? Besides, Harry and I are no longer friends."

"Well now, there's an interestin' piece o' gossip," Dung muttered as he rubbed his stubbly chin.

Savage spoke up. "Look, Dung, Hermione is here to work on her Stealth and Tracking training. You helped me, and I got the best marks in my class. So, what do you say? Help out, and I'll make sure Potter gets off your back for a while... let you breathe a bit."

"A' right then," he agreed. He turned to Hermione. "Wot you want me to call you?"

"Just call me Snape," she said briskly.

"Fine," he replied. "Let's get started." Dung led them out into an area of London that was busy, but grimy and dingy.

"Now, you see where we are: a highly pop'lated area, but with a lot o' people lookin' and dressin' the same. You'd do best to brush up on your Transfigurin' spells. You'll need to know how to look in a situation."

"You see, Hermione," added Savage. "It's all about fitting into the scenery. Just like how you would do when going out to the clubs at night: a face in a faceless crowd."

Dung ushered them into another vacant alleyway and transfigured them into dingier clothes.

"Now," he said. "We are all in Stealth mode for where we are. Let's talk about trackin'."

"Trackin' people takes a great deal o' discretion an' patience. You need good eyesight, fortitude, and a keen mind. You got to be awares o' your surroundin's," Dung continued. "Furthermore, you 'ave to know where to look. Lookin' and havin' good eyes is all well an' good, but it's the one who knows where and how to look that will catch the prize!" he exclaimed.

He led them to a bench in a derelict park. He sat and began to puff on his pipe. "Now, Snape, you got to know how to look for wot you want. So, for me, it's allus a good deal ta git a bit of somethin' wot people think is nuthin'. Now where d'you think I'm going to find it? Buckingham Palace? The Minister of Magic's House?" he asked comically.

Hermione smirked and shook her head.

"That's righ'," he said with a knowing look. "I go mos'ly where the Aurors won't find me easily. I ten' to go to Portobello Road, Notting Hill, otherwise, places where lots o' people are muckin' about an' are shabby like me, lookin' for a deal. I fit in, and nobody'll think what all 'bout it."

Savage, who was sitting on Hermione's other side, said, "Now, when it comes down to tracking suspected Dark wizards or a person who is wanted and known to be dangerous, you have to be aware and knowledgeable of the places the target might frequent and learn the target's likes and dislikes. You have to think like the person you are tracking. And during all that time, you'll have to deal with dodgy people, unsavory lots, you know? And they'll always want you to grease a palm for an answer."

Hermione nodded. "I know all about getting what I want from people. I used to do it all the time."

"Wot's this?" rasped Dung. "When 'ave you ever been on th' wrong side o' th' law?"

Hermione smiled at Dung's shock. "During the first war, I knew how to get what I needed from men. A smile and a promise, flash a bit of skin, and they will throw money, drugs..." She stopped talking and watched the faces on the men beside her.

"Blimey, Snape," said Savage. "You should be teaching the ruddy class!"

"Oh, no!" said Hermione, shaking her head furiously. "I admit that I am good at some parts of being an Auror, but I don't know if I would know the first thing about catching a dark wizard."

"Oh, that's simple enough," said Dung as he coughed.

"How?" asked Hermione.

"You become a dark wizard, or in your case, a witch."

Hermione turned to Savage. He nodded in agreement. "You see, Hermione, think about the old days when Barty Crouch was in power and You-Know-Who was out there cursing people left and right. Old Barty let us Aurors do the most dangerous types of magic in order to subdue and capture them. Now, Old Mad-Eye, he's good. He's tough and takes no prisoners if they fight him, but he never placed anyone under an Unforgivable. Didn't have to. He'd scare the piss out of everyone who knew the bastard and squeeze until there were no more places for the poor bastard to hide. He made them all aware of his presence. Moody always got his man, but what they don't tell you is how many got away for the sake of one or two criminals.

"What I do," said Savage, "is I ingratiate myself into their society. I learn their ways quickly, adapt their verbiage, and if I can't, I make myself become a likeable bloke. I'm nobody, no threat. Then when the time comes, I don't go it alone. I don't go at all! I call the Aurors in, and they rain down on ten or twenty, breaking up gangs, syndicates, whatnot without blowing my cover. It's the way I work. And if I'm not mistaken, it's how your husband likes to do things as well."

"You're right," Hermione whispered.

"Now, more practical things," Savage continued as he counted on his finger. "You have to be fit. You need to be able to cast a powerful glamour on yourself that can't be detected. You have to be prepared to duel at a moment's notice. You have to be able to maintain linear information. Your test showed us you have a photographic memory."

"I do," admitted Hermione.

"Well," Savage said with a smile, "You are incredibly well suited to do this work. It's all about practical application. After this gig in Hogsmeade, I think we'll be ready to get out there and start arresting people. It's all getting to be a mess. We're the lucky bastards out around Hogwarts, not out by Diagon Alley, or worse, working in Muggle London, calling the Obliviators every blessed day."

***

After spending the day watching Dung make several illegal purchases and contacts, Hermione was starting to get the idea of what they had been telling her. Dung had an amazing memory for people's likes, dislikes, what areas they specialized in; then when another contact came to him wanting to know about an obscure item he had heard about, he could tell them...for a price...who the best person would be to contact. Hermione watched in awe as Dung led them on a seemingly wild goose chase for a good deal on some silver. There seemed to be a lot of people wanting a piece of the same. Dung faked disinterest, outright lied and, at times, even extorted and blackmailed people for information. He could recall the dastardliest things a witch or wizard had done from ten, fifteen, even twenty years ago.

***

"That was the most incredible thing I've ever seen!" she said to Savage as they made their way back to the Three Broomsticks.

"You're going to start seeing things a lot differently aren't you?" he asked her.

"I'm sure I will," she agreed.

"I dare you to make an experiment. Just pick someone that you normally see every day and keep tabs on them, but not one of us...we work too closely, it wouldn't be a fair test...not that you won't ever be asked to spy on one of your co-workers. Bloody shame, but it happens," Savage admitted.

Hermione looked around as she walked across the floor on her way to her room. She saw Rosmerta. Rosmerta was someone she saw every day, and she had seen her talking with Draco Malfoy. She picked her and decided to keep her ears and eyes open.

***

The days began to fly, and Hermione worked hard at her training. There were duels, hand-to-hand combat training, transfiguring and untransfiguring objects. Hermione did not disappoint her fellow Aurors. She impressed her colleagues and continued to flourish as an Auror-in-training.

She also continued to meet with Ginny as she made her rounds at Hogwarts. The fifth-year was having a hard time of things.

"Katie Bell still is in St. Mungo's," Ginny told her one late November day as Hermione completed her first circuit around the grounds.

"What else is going on?" Hermione asked gently.

The redhead shrugged. "Harry's really mad, Hermione. We can't even mention you around him. He's got that damn book plastered to his side, and he's getting detention every other day. The Quidditch Team is falling apart at the seams. Katie's absence made for a pretty tense try-out. Dean Thomas got the spot, which meant Seamus Finnegan didn't, and now's he's hacked-off at Harry. Ron feels completely incompetent since Harry and I are involved with the 'Slug Club' and he's not. He about killed Dezmelda during our last practice, and all he can say is that 'it's nerves.'"

Hermione draped her woolen wrap around her tighter. She stifled an urge to laugh. The teenage days of drama! She could only shake her head.

"Well, it seems Harry still hasn't discovered the person behind the nom de plume," she pressed.

"No, he hasn't, but that still doesn't stop him from being a complete prat about it. I think it's cheating. I've actually thought about telling Professor Snape about it. Harry won't even let us near it. It's as if he can't see without it, like there's some compulsion curse on it. I can't forget how he totally went off on you in Hogsmeade last month...OH!" she said loudly. "I haven't told you the biggest news. Ron finally got a girlfriend."

"Really?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes, it's ghastly! He spends most of his free-time snogging Lavender..."

"...Lavender Brown?" Hermione gasped.

Ginny giggled. "Yes, she's gone round the twist for Ron, and they are just pathetic, but they seem to really like each other, so live and let live, right?"

Hermione nodded and was impressed with Ginny's acceptance of Lavender. Ginny had never cared much for Lavender or Pavarti, who was always, in Ginny's estimation, a bit too boy-crazy and far too girly-girl for her liking.

"But, you know, Ron likes his fame way too much. Lavender is all about finding a decent wizard who will adore her give her lots of babies, and some notoriety in her life. After all, Ron is Harry's best friend..." She stopped short.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," she said, her face blushing.

Hermione smiled at her. "Don't apologize, Ginny. It's not your fault what's going on between Harry and me. I just hope Harry doesn't make you choose."

"Well, if that happens, Harry will lose!" she snapped. "I'm no longer the little girl who had the crush on the famous Harry Potter. I know Harry...the real Harry. I know, well, I just know the real him," she said as she blushed.

"I understand, Ginny," said Hermione sympathetically. She knew what she had meant, for she knew the real Severus. Behind the cold and unemotional front, black robes, and sneering face was a man who had a laugh that could make you feel he could make everything all right again. She knew how greasy his hair really was...and it was greasy if he didn't wash it every day...she also knew how his face contorted right when he was about to have a fantastic orgasm and how he hated to have his quills in his drawer haphazardly. They all had to be separated, just like his change. Knuts in one pocket, Sickles in another, and Galleons still in another. It was as if the coins were never to touch the others or something. She had stopped trying to figure out the mystery years ago. They were his quirks, and he was her wizard.

"Well anyway," Ginny continued, "we've got this Slug Club Party for Christmas coming up in a couple of weeks, just before hols. Harry and I are going, but don't know how long we'll stay. Are you coming? I mean you are Snape's wife."

"I don't think so," she said. "The last thing I need is to be seen with Severus. It could make life for him particularly heinous if the Dark Lord found out."

"So, what are you going to do for Christmas?" Ginny asked.

"I am planning on staying here with Severus; that is if the Auror Department lets me have some free time."

"They should," Ginny said grudgingly. "You and Professor Snape haven't had the most typical of marriages, have you?"

Hermione smirked. "You may be right. This year certainly has been trying."

"Are things okay with you two?" she asked.

"We'll be fine, Ginny. Every couple struggles, some more than others, but when you can work things out and be honest about your mistakes, you can fix nearly everything. Yet, I will say that having a break and spending some quality together would be a much needed blessing," Hermione replied.

"Have you given any thought about just stealing the book from Harry?"

Ginny nodded her head. "If I could nick Tom Riddle's diary from his things at age eleven, I'm sure I can at least do that and hide my tracks better."

Hermione nodded her head approvingly. "Well done, Ginny. Go over the top."

***

Hermione found herself back in Gawain Robards office in London a week later.

"It says here on this parchment that you are requesting a two-week vacation from your Auror training to spend the holidays with your husband. Granger..."

"...Snape," she spat at him. 'My name is Hermione Snape. Perhaps this is the reason I need this vacation. No one can seem to recall that I am a married woman and have been for a year and a half. Yet, the time my husband and I have been able to be together since June has been virtually non-existent."

Gawain watched Hermione. She was keeping her temper in check when it was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to tell him she needed to be with her husband, she needed to have lots of hot, sweaty, dirty, kinky sex and debate with him over potions ingredients and tell him all about her Auror training. She wanted to tell him it had been too long since she had oral sex (giving and receiving) and seeing that look on Severus' face when she slapped his bare arse. She wanted to hear about his dunderheads and watch him roar up and down about how each year was growing exponentially worse. She wanted to get drunk with him and bitch about Voldemort and how they hated being apart. Then she wanted to dream together about the life they wanted: the babies and the plush couches. She wanted to think about all the wonderful Christmases they were looking forward to having with all their children and tease over which houses they'd be in. She just wanted it, even if it could only be for two weeks, just to be a bloody wife!

Gawain folded his hands and said, "I know things have been difficult. You've already had your fair share of dealing with this damn war. From what Dawlish says, you have shown an amazing depth of knowledge, and your psychological tests were excellent. You just may be the first Auror to ever finish the program in less than three years. So, I'm giving you your two weeks. However, you can personally thank each one of your team for this gift. They all let me know I'd better give it to you, especially Tonks, who threatened to hex my bullocks off if I didn't let you go. Besides, she told me a VERY interesting story about a couple shagging in the room you two share at the Three Broomsticks. It sounded as if someone had cast a Silencing Spell that was a little less than pristine. Therefore, she had to fix the situation before anyone realized what was going on."

Hermione was mortified.

"No pun intended, Hermione, but from the sound of things, you need to get laid more often. Happy Christmas," he said with a small smile.

"Happy Christmas," she choked out as she made a hasty exit. She was beyond embarrassed. How was she going to face her fellow Aurors ever again?

***

A/N: Please read and review!