Chapter 22: Den of Iniquity

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

Many hugs go out to VIVAvivacious for the generous application of her beta skills to this chapter.

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The silence in the house was so deafening that even the sound of a pin hitting the floor would have been heard.

Hermione had been sitting alone in the study all morning, simply staring out the window. That night was the night they would be sending Draco to what surely would be his death if he was not careful. She did not know him as a man, but as a child, he had been hot-tempered and prone to speaking and acting foolishly before thinking. He was the typical Slytherin in the ways that showed but not in the ways that counted. He lacked the subtlety and cunning that coloured the lives of most Slytherins she had ever known; Snape was not exempt from this.

She wondered exactly what it was Snape had spent all morning preparing with Draco for. She then wondered why it was that she had thought of him as Draco, rather than as Malfoy, ever since the night he had arrived on the doorstep, bloody and beaten. Perhaps that was a reason in itself. Once she saw someone hurt, she felt like she couldn't think of them apathetically anymore. She shook her head. It was not time for thoughts like that. They would have to wait until Draco returned safely.

She allowed her thoughts to run in Dumbledore's direction and immediately felt her anger and pent-up darkness surface.

He was the worst kind of manipulator there was. At least Voldemort was up-front about what being part of his dark army entailed. They got to kill Muggles and Mudbloods, rape and torture people, and purify a world that they thought was impure. Certainly, she hated the Dark Lord with every fibre of her being, but she found the Headmaster, too, had awoken a very different sort of hate within her.

She looked at the clock above the mantelpiece and noticed it was well past lunchtime and hunger had yet to claim her. She was thinking about interrupting the men in the next room when she heard the door to the study open, and both Snape and Draco entered. She got up from the bench by the windowsill and walked over to meet them halfway to see what it was they wanted.

'Have you eaten?' Snape asked quietly.

She shook her head. 'I was just thinking about it before you walked in,' she replied. 'Are you both hungry?'

Draco nodded vigorously. It appeared that even during times of great stress, young men could still fit food into their stomachs. Hermione knew for a fact Snape was not a typical man, but she liked to make sure he ate enough to prevent him from becoming any thinner than he was.

'I can make some soup and sandwiches for lunch, if you'd like,' she offered. Despite cooking not being one of her hugest strengths, she had grown a lot more confident with preparing meals and even enjoyed the task at times.

Snape nodded. 'All right, we'll help and eat in the kitchen.'

The three of them left the study and moved further into the house until they were in Snape's immaculate kitchen. Hermione immediately set the two men on preparing the sandwiches while she pulled out the ingredients to make a potato and leek soup. Half an hour later, they were sitting at the table, munching on the ham and chutney sandwiches the men, well, mostly Snape, had thrown together and sipping at the soup. Afterwards, Draco offered to clean up due to his lack of effort in making the food.

Hermione beckoned Snape to follow her to the warm study and locked the door behind him after he had entered.

'I want to know what is going to happen to Draco,' she demanded.

'I don't know exactly how things are going to pan out,' he said curtly. 'I'm neither a Seer nor can I practice Legilimency on the Dark Lord from here, or anywhere for that matter.'

'Don't be thick,' she snapped back. 'You know perfectly well what I meant. Just what is it you and Dumbledore planned for Draco to do? How will he deliver the potion and get out of there alive before another beating or torture? Surely Lucius Malfoy has alerted Voldemort to Draco's disobedience.'

Snape sighed heavily, reaching out and resting one of his hands on her shoulders. 'Hermione, must you always overreact?' he asked wearily.

Her shoulder burned where his hand was beneath the fabric of her cotton shirt. She looked up at his face and saw for the first time the exhaustion in his eyes, his expression as open and true as she had ever seen it. So, he was human after all. Sighing and feeling the steam that had been building within her dissipate, she stepped closer to Snape and rested her own hand on his where it was on her shoulder. He looked at her in surprise then and removed his hand, more slowly than strictly necessary, and let it rub down her arm to her wrist.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured.

He nodded in understanding. She couldn't help it, and he knew it. She led him over to sit in the two armchairs in front of the coffee table and fire, waving her hand at the door to unlock it. It didn't really matter what Draco was intending to do. She had to trust Snape knew what he was doing and would have instructed the younger Malfoy on how to complete his mission and escape unscathed.

'Can I come in?' asked Draco from the other side of the door.

Hermione snorted. 'The door is unlocked, you fool,' she answered.

No sooner than the words had come out of her mouth, Draco entered the room with a big smirk on his face, most likely hoping to have caught her and Snape in some sort of compromising position. If he had arrived not two minutes before, he probably would have. Friends did not touch each other the way Snape would touch her – even the lightest caress of his fingers brushing her curls behind her ear was intimate in a way she understood but was not familiar with.

The look Snape was giving her that very moment was not in any way just friendly. It was something more, and she knew it was still reflected in her own eyes after the touch that had been shared between them. No innocent touch should have felt like that.

Giving herself a mental shake, she brought herself back into the present and into the study.

Draco gave her an amused look she was having trouble interpreting. 'Well, I think I am going to have to get a move on if I am going to meet with Father and smooth things over before going to the Revels tonight,' he said, almost a little too casually to convince Hermione he was all right with it.

'You'll promise to be careful, won't you, Draco?' she asked.

He nodded and stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 'I'll be back before you know it,' he answered. 'Well, I might not come straight here – I'll have to go home with Father for a while, but I'll send an owl to let you know how it goes, if I can.'

'If all else fails, send a message via your Patronus,' Severus instructed, standing from his armchair and walking Draco out.

Hermione waited with bated breath until Snape returned to the study alone. She could see the fearfulness in his eyes – fear for Draco. It was obvious to her Snape cared for Draco a great deal and was worried Dumbledore's scheme would mean the end of the young Malfoy. In the short time Draco had been staying in Snape's cottage with them, she had grown rather fond of having him around, and given some time, she thought they could probably be friends. After all, both of them had been forced to do things against their own will on more than one occasion.

'I think I should warn you Draco is quite taken with your friend, Miss Lovegood,' Snape said, breaking the silence.

Hermione's eyes widened as she snapped them up to look at him. 'What do you mean by that?' she asked. 'They've only been on speaking terms for less than a fortnight!'

Snape chuckled. 'One thing you will come to learn about Draco Malfoy is he is hopeless when it comes to the fairer sex,' he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling from his smile.

Hermione felt her breath leave her lungs swiftly. The corners of Snape's mouth were turned up in the most genuine smile she had ever seen on him. It seemed to transform his face and take years off. She couldn't help but beam back up at him. In that moment, something passed between them that could not be named or explained.

'Come to the sitting room,' Snape murmured, his mouth returning to its usual state. His eyes, however, remained like warm coals.

Without saying a word, Hermione stood and followed him, both of them sitting on the lounge side-by-side through some unspoken agreement. Hermione remembered the last time she had sat like this on the lounge with Snape. It had been only a few weeks ago, but since then, she had been very careful around him. The moment she had agreed to go to the sitting room with him, she knew she had crossed one of her own lines.

She didn't care one whit.

'I'm worried about Draco,' Snape whispered into the quiet of the room.

'I know you are,' she said softly. 'I can't imagine a place worse for him now than that Den of Iniquity, wherever it might be.'

Hermione reached over and put a hand on top of Snape's where it rested on the cushion between them, giving it a light squeeze. She felt Snape turn his hand over and squeeze back, surprising them both. Without releasing her hand, he flung his other arm out towards the door and cast a Summoning spell. She heard something flying through the air towards them and was surprised when Snape presented her with the unfinished Little Women, a marker stuck into the place Snape had left off.

'It's your turn to read,' he told her with a small smirk.

She took the book from him and moved to tuck her legs up beneath her, but Snape manoeuvred them into his lap instead so they were stretched out. She was about to thank him when he ran a long finger down the sole of one foot, making her jerk it involuntarily. She shot him a quelling look.

'That was evil,' she said with an exaggerated huff.

He merely smirked and gestured for her to read. She opened the book to the page he had marked. As she began to read, Snape rested his head on the back of the lounge and closed his eyes. She didn't know how long they had been there, but the book had long ago dropped to the ground, and once more Hermione found herself snuggled against Snape's side, the man himself with his eyes closed, breathing softly. She reached an arm up a little way and let her fingertips graze Snape's cheekbone and down to the slightly rough stubble beginning to grow on his chin.

She almost snatched her hand back when his eyes flickered open to look at her, but the warmth in his black eyes made her pause.

'Hermione,' he whispered softly.

Her heart clenched in her chest. She could have chosen in that very moment to get up and leave. She could have followed through with her plan to avoid any romantic entanglements with Snape until such a time when they were not in danger of losing their lives. But for the time being, she really didn't care about the rules she'd made up for herself.

'Severus,' she whispered back, shifting so that she was propped up on one elbow, looking down at his face.

She didn't know whether she had lowered her face to his, or if it had been he that lifted up to meet her. Their lips met gently between them, and in that moment, Hermione knew she would have always regretted not having kissed Snape if either or both of them were to perish before the war ended. A large, roughened hand came up to cup one of her cheeks as the other buried itself in her curly hair, drawing her closer as their kiss deepened. Hermione allowed his tongue to sweep past her lips, chasing it playfully with her own.

When they pulled back for air, the way Snape's thin lips glistened and his eyes shone made her glad she had thrown caution to the wind.

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A/N – There you go – another moment of tenderness. Hopefully this will be enough for the time being.