The Urgent Owl

Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are lovingly borrowed from J.K. Rowling.

Special thanks to DreamyDragon_73 and AnnieTalbot for their incredible beta work. This story originally posted at the sshg_exchange. I'll be posting new chapters every three days or so

Hermione,

Robert Klandestin

~*~

Hermione resisted the urge to cast a Cushioning Charm and bang her head against the table. She'd transcribed countless runes. She'd transliterated. She'd translated. She'd read. She'd cross-referenced. And nothing. She had no answers. A thousand theories, but no answers. And the thought of recovering her tracks with another day of probably fruitless research made her want to scream.

She might have figured out how the runes in the hallway revealed the room's door, but nothing else. And now there would be no interns to assist her.

There had to be something. She'd read back through her notes, and all that had yielded was yet another pile of possibilities. She felt as though she had all the information she needed, but the elusive thread that bound everything together was missing.

Bill. She should write to Bill. She was stuck enough that it'd be worth the ten feet of parchment the goblins mandated for emergency communications. Ten gruelling feet that ensured that circumstances were dire enough to need their intervention to expedite communications. If the situation were less dire, she'd wait a week for an owl to travel to Tibet and back. But Malfoy would harass her to no end if he found her research had stalled.

Grabbing her cloak, she breathed a sigh of relief at her decision. Surely, he'd have encountered something similar in all the crypts he'd explored. Besides, the walk to Diagon Alley to pick up the paperwork from Gringotts would help clear her head. She needed a break before she could possibly assimilate the relevant information Bill might need to know. Merlin knew if she went back through her notes now, it would just lead to a bruised forehead and splintered conference table. Cushioning Charm be damned.

If she was very lucky, she'd have an epiphany on the way to Gringotts that would negate the need to write to Bill. The kind of epiphany she'd been hoping for while she slogged through her paperwork. Well, perhaps the fresh air would clear the cobwebs in her brain. She requested a sandwich from Mosey. She'd never hear the end of it if she skipped lunch.

Her footsteps echoed in the hallway. For once, she had managed to time her departure when the students were shuttered away in class. She stopped by her quarters to grab her Department of Mysteries Security Clearance forms; they would cut the paperwork down to nine feet of parchment. More importantly, the forms would remind the goblins that they were bound to deliver her letter, despite the ill feelings they still harboured for her.

She left the castle and was surprised by the brisk breeze. Casting a Warming Charm on her cloak, she looked at the greying sky and decided her trip needed to be quick unless she wanted to risk conjuring an umbrella from a twig.

Her mind still whirled with runes, tumbling them over in her head. She needed to think about something else. Something that wasn't a pointy, angular etching on a wall. 

Her mind drifted to Snape. Her bark of laughter startled a flock of birds. Severus, she corrected herself. Talk about pointy and angular. And yet not quite so much as she had expected. She'd stopped marvelling that she enjoyed his company. Once you knew how to read him, how to interpret his particular flavour of sarcasm, it was a joy to converse with him.

With the exception of that second night when he'd read at his desk, they'd spent all of their evenings together. It was rather suspicious, really. It was almost as if he enjoyed her company. A week ago, she wouldn't have given the man a second thought. Well, not in a romantic way. She'd never thought of him in that context and certainly wouldn't have called him attractive. But he'd grown on her since she'd arrived at the castle.

Perhaps it wasn't Diuretic Charms on the tea service but Befuddlement Draught in the tea. And yet, that thought was ridiculous. It wasn't as if she was writing sonnets about him. She'd simply come to admire the way he argued a point. And learned how to sift through his words and actions to see where his heart lay. And caught herself staring at the silver streaking through his hair. Bugger. She might as well be writing sonnets.

She left the Apparition point in Diagon Alley and walked up the steps to Gringotts, taking a deep breath before she pulled open the massive doors of the bank. Dealing with the goblins was an ordeal even on a good day. They'd never forgiven her for the break-in to Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. Oh, they still took her money, but they always watched her like a hawk, as if expecting her to set the entire building aflame on a whim. Today they'd probably pick up on her desperation to get the correspondence to Bill and be on edge for the entire exchange.

Stepping up to the counter, Hermione ignored the three security goblins now lingering several feet away. She glanced at the service goblin's name placard. Clarence stared at her.

"Clarence, I need a copy of the Gringotts' field agent communication forms," she said, plunking her Ministry security clearance papers onto the counter.

"Is that all you'll require today, Mrs Weasley?" Clarence asked.

"It is," she answered, knowing it was best to keep things as terse as possible.

Clarence raised his arm, and a scroll zoomed through the air to land in his palm. He shoved a roll of parchment at her and said, "Return the completed form by six o'clock today for delivery before tomorrow morning. Include your correspondence inside the scroll. We will forward the reply once we receive it."

"Thank you," she said, tucking the thick scroll into her handbag. There was no sense keeping it out for the trip back. The goblins forbade form completion using a Dictoquill.

She Apparated back to the school and trudged up the hill. Again. If she never saw the hill to Hogwarts again, it would be too soon.

Once inside the castle, she climbed the stairs to the Headmaster's office and cleared the conference table. She spread the parchment onto the table, dug her quill out, and prepared to tell the goblins her life story.

Two hours later, Hermione stretched in her chair. It was nearly three, time for Rose and Hugo to arrive for tea. She stared at the parchment. Another hour of effort and it would be finally done. She just had to replicate the relevant notes and write the cover letter to Bill.

She hoped she wasn't making a mistake in inviting Rose and Hugo here to the conference room. It wasn't the most inviting of environments, especially given the uncomfortable conversation they'd had the other night. But she was at a loss for anywhere more appropriate in the castle. If her guest quarters weren't big enough to contain her research, they certainly weren't up to the task of entertaining.

She called for Mosey, who quivered with excitement. "Oh, yes. We is preparing tea for you and Miss Rose and Mister Hugo. We has made everyone's favourites."

Hermione grinned at the elf. Mosey wasn't quite as fawning as the other house-elves Hermione had encountered over the course of her life. Clearly, Mosey got joy from a job well done, and Hermione could certainly appreciate that. Her scones alone were worthy of a lot of pride.

She heard the trudge of trainers up the stairs, and the elf Disapparated. Rose and Hugo shuffled into the conference room, looking as if they were headed for detention rather than tea with their mum.

Hermione finished stacking the parchments she was sending to Bill and moved them to the bookshelf. She turned around to find Hugo rifling through her papers. "Hugo! You learned not to look through my research when you were seven."

Hugo grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, you're researching something with runes, yeah, Mum?"

Rose rolled her eyes and slumped into one of the chairs, crossing her arms and settling into her usual, sullen, 'my Mum and brother are so abnormal' posture.

"Yes, Hugo."

Mosey, bless her, picked that moment to deliver tea, scones, and biscuits. The kids were silent as Hermione served. She hoped that Hugo would drop the subject in favour of stuffing his face as usual. But, of course, she wasn't so lucky.

After polishing off two biscuits in under a minute, Hugo asked, "You didn't say so in the hallway, but your research has to do with Malfoy, doesn't it?"

Any response would be damning. Hugo could read her too well. "Yes, it does. There are runes carved in the area where the encounter happened."

Fortunately, Hugo took the theoretical route. "How does that even work, Mum? All we've covered so far is four different alphabets and proper sentence construction in Latin."

"There are several different theories on how the runes propagate magic, but no one theory has really been able to adequately explain things. Some scholars believe that because the individuals creating the rune carvings had more raw, primal magic when they carved the runes, some of their raw magic bled into the carving," she explained.

Hugo stared at her with the dreamy expression that meant his brain was working overtime to digest new information. Rose's eyes were glazed over.

"Others hypothesize that even the witches and wizards from hundreds of years ago used spells to imbue magic into the carvings. You don't see as many runes created today because modern magic has often developed other methods that accomplish the tasks more easily. But in seventh year, you'll learn the spell to carve them, and nothing beats a rune carving for longevity." Hermione took a breath as she finished her explanation.

Hugo began to ask a question, but Rose interrupted. "Hugo, shut up. Could you be more boring?"

"Rose! Don't tell your brother to shut up." Yes, tea was such a wonderful idea. Bickering teenagers would be a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

Tense silence filled the room for several minutes. Rose glared at Hugo while she ate a scone. Good grief. They normally got along much better than this.

"So, Rose, how is the Quidditch season going?"

Rose looked at Hermione as if she was, in fact, the dumbest mother on the planet. "Mum, we don't have our first match for a month."

"Oh. Well, how's the team look this year?"

"It's the same as last year. None of our players finished."

This was so not the conversation topic to have selected. "Oh. Does that mean you're playing the same position, then?"

"Mum, no one changes positions."

"Well, your Aunt Ginny did."

"Mum, that's because Uncle Harry got banned from the sport. It's not like that happens on a regular basis." Well, if Hermione hadn't won the prize for dumbest mother, she'd at least sealed the nomination.

"Rose, are you all right?" she asked, grabbing her tea so that the 'you're even crankier than normal' didn't slip out.

"I'm tired, Mum. Lessons are harder this year. I'm supposed to be in the library right now, studying with Veronique."

Hermione wondered if it was possible to ship a child to Azkaban. "Well, I won't keep you too long, then."

She relayed the news about their invitation to Australia. Rose looked physically pained. There was no winning. Absolutely no winning. She hurried through the rest of tea, hoping it would end before she ended up in Azkaban. When had Rose turned into such a harpy? Was there something else going on? Things hadn't been remotely close to this bad over the summer. Hermione made a mental note to ask Ginny for dinner once she was back home. Rose was acting as horribly as Lily had a couple years ago, although Lily had at least had the excuse of being twelve at the time. Perhaps, Ginny would have advice. If nothing else, it would be an excuse to lounge around drinking wine.

At last, the kids had finished their tea, and Rose asked to be excused. Hermione nodded, certain that actual words would just result in some scathing retort. One she didn't have the patience or energy to handle. She watched Rose leave and exhaled, rather more loudly than she'd intended. She turned to Hugo, a bit embarrassed, and offered a weak smile.

"Mum, you know you don't need to try so hard with Rose. She doesn't expect you to be Dad."

Hugo hugged her again and left. Hermione was angry enough to strangle a giant. Rose had better grow out of whatever phase she was in, or she could spend the Christmas hols at the castle. No way was she going to Portkey that attitude to the other side of the globe.

Hermione shook off her frustration. A Tempus Charm revealed that tea had taken longer than she'd anticipated. She took small comfort in the fact that it hadn't just seemed like forever. But she needed to hurry if she was going to pull everything together to send to Bill.

After a half hour of casting Replication Charms and writing her cover letter to Bill in between spells, she bound the notes, letter, and forms. She was casting a Warming Charm on her cloak when Severus walked into the room.

"Off somewhere?"

"I've got to run this packet to Gringotts. I've written to Bill Weasley to see if he's run into anything similar."

"Would you like me to have one of the elves deliver them?" he offered.

"No, I've got to deliver it by hand, and I've got only thirty minutes to get there."

Severus held out his hand, gesturing for the cloak. He held it as she slipped into it. "You'll want an Impervious Charm. I believe it's raining over Hogsmeade."

"Thanks," she said, casting a charm on cloak and paperwork alike.

Severus began walking with her as she left the office. "I should take dinner in the Great Hall tonight. While most of the student body is oblivious to my presence, there are some who will notice if I've been absent from too many meals."

"Ah, Slytherin House keeping tabs on you? Always on the look-out for a conspiracy?" Hermione grinned, enjoying that she could tease Severus about such a thing now.

Snape ignored her. "I'll see you afterwards, then? Perhaps I can join you while you're on your Great Ministry Unnecessary Paper Caper?"

Merlin, Snape had gone punny and was looking smug about it, too. He really needed to get out of the castle more often. She followed his strategy and ignored his rhyming – rhyming! – barb. Their paths diverged outside the Great Hall. "That would be excellent. I'll see you then."

She made it to Gringotts in time and before the rain. Clarence was none too happy to see her again, but he accepted and stamped the paperwork, assuring her again that the goblins would forward the response as soon as Bill answered.

She Disapparated into a thunderstorm at the Hogwarts Apparition point. She slogged through the downpour back up the hill – again – to the castle. Stupid. Rain. Stupid. Bloody. Runes. Stupid. Bloody. Castle. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Hill.

Entering the castle, she stomped back to the conference room, stomach growling. Thank Merlin she'd made it back while dinner was still underway. Severus might have complaints if she hexed first years out of her way.

Mosey popped into the room. Words could not fully describe Hermione's joy. "What is you wanting for dinner, Hermione?"

She flopped into her chair and responded wearily, "I'm too hungry to care, Mosey. Whatever's for dinner in the Great Hall."

Mosey's ears dipped. "You is okay, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled. She adored this elf. If Harry wouldn't tease her until the end of time, she'd try to smuggle Mosey home with her. "It's been a rather trying day, and I'm stuck for research until Bill writes me back."

Mosey's ears began wiggling. "Oh! I can be delivering the letter to you right away once it arrives! I will be watching for it special!" she declared before disappearing from the room.

Hermione wondered if Orders of Merlin could be awarded to house-elves. Still smiling, she pulled out her paperwork and inbox. She was exhausted, yes, but if she didn't keep herself busy, she'd go spare waiting for Bill's response.

She'd just got everything arranged when Mosey returned with a steaming plate of roast turkey, gravy, buttered peas, and boiled potatoes. She was sincerely going to miss this when she returned home. Her stomach and taste buds might go on hunger strike.

The meal and the familiar routine of reviewing and sorting paperwork put her in much higher spirits by the time Severus entered the room. "Mind if I join you? I've got a stack of essays that will be much improved with company and a glass of brandy."

She looked up from a patent application and grinned. "So long as your red ink doesn't spatter all over my papers."

"Quiet, you, or I'll forget to bring an extra glass."

Severus return a moment later with a stack of essays two feet high, levitating behind him and two brandy snifters in his hands. He settled into a chair a few feet away and began sorting through his own papers.

She raised an eyebrow.

"It's imperative to insert a halfway decent essay every now and then. Saves on brandy."

Hermione giggled and returned to her paperwork, gratefully accepting the snifter of brandy.

"I trust you made it to Gringotts in time?"

Nodding, she said, "I did. I hope Bill's able to point out the missing link."

"I'm surprised you never consulted with Bathsheba."

Hermione grit her teeth, trying not to blurt out the rude comments circling in her mind about her former teacher and occasional colleague. "I have tried to see Bathsheba at least six times, but I keep finding myself at the castle entrance, panicking that I've left the iron back at the house."

The corner of Severus's mouth twitched.

She glared at him. "Not funny! I need to know if she has a copy of Michelson's book. She won't return my owls either."

A grin threatened to bloom on his face.

"Severus, one would almost think you don't want me to figure out what's wrong with your godson."

"Hardly. As it happens, Bathsheba spoke with me after dinner."

The big tease. "Really?"

"Yes, she asked me to give you this." Severus withdrew a book from his cloak and presented it to her. "She also asked me to tell you that if you're headed down the path of Michelson, then you're well beyond her area of expertise in pre-eleventh century runes."

Oh, well that explained why Bathsheba hadn't explored these rooms in the castle. Though Hermione hoped she was never so pigeon-holed in her research. She opened the Michelson text and flipped to the chapter she needed to reference, giving it a quick skim. Still nothing. Thank Merlin she'd sent that letter to Bill.

"And lastly, she said that if you keep setting off her wards while she's trying to finish her book, she'll walk down to the chamber and ward you inside."

Hermione laughed. "Does she always get this prickly around publication time?"

"It's usually worse. Last time Dumbledore threatened to spell her office door open if she didn't restore her office hours to normal."

"She's rather lucky that you allow her such freedom."

Severus went quiet, and she glanced over to see that he'd started on his essays. She winced on his behalf as she watched him. It was only the first one, and she'd already heard no fewer than a dozen strings of colourful commentary. She wasn't sure who to pity more, the essay writers or their reader.

Shaking her head, she returned to her own, far less aggravating, papers. Severus fell silent. She smiled. He must have reached one of the better essays. She stifled a giggle as she heard him thank the Founders for creating the house of Ravenclaw.

Looking up when he completed that particular essay, he said, "These are worse than I thought. I shall require biscuits. And more brandy. Any requests?"

Hermione shook her head. Biscuits were biscuits. She was certain to find something she liked. She smiled as Severus summoned Mosey and ordered a plate of his favourites.

Mosey returned moments later with coffee and an entire platter of biscuits. Oh, yes! The platter had Jaffa cakes. Severus grabbed one. Here was a man after her heart. She transferred several biscuits to her plate and nipped a bite off one.

"So, Severus, why is it that you're still teaching N.E.W.T.-level potions?"

"This stack of miserable excuses for essays aside, I enjoy teaching the older students. Their essays will be much improved by next month. And teaching keeps me in touch with the students and reminds me of the concerns of the staff."

Well, that made more sense. More sense than her theory that he simply enjoyed torturing himself.

They settled back into their respective tasks. She grinned as she watched Severus's hand fumbling at his empty plate. He scowled at it and loaded up a pile of biscuits. Considering for a moment, she decided she could get away with another biscuit or two, especially with all the hill climbing she'd done lately. She went back to her papers.

Hermione paused in her review of an accidental magic use report. Fascinating, really, that an eight-year-old could succeed in inverting his house. But apparently that couldn't compare with the top of Severus's head. Or the rims of his glasses. Or his hands. She forced herself to glance at the paperwork again. He'd already caught her looking at him twice.

Halfway through his stack – really, he was making considerably more progress than she was – Severus stood and stretched.

"It might be a toss-up as to which pile of chicken-scratching is worse," Severus said, glancing at her stack of rune transliterations. He frowned. "That marking looks familiar. Is it common?" he asked, pointing to one of the runes she'd yet to identify.

"No, I haven't encountered it in any of my sources. I can't determine its meaning. It only crops up once, however."

"It's carved inside the Slytherin Common Room." Snape's gaze flickered up at her, daring her to make the obvious remark about any link between Salazar Slytherin and the room's creation.

Hermione managed to restrain her response, but only for lack of a rejoinder witty enough to silence Snape. But she rejoiced just a bit that a small shred of evidence pointed in that direction. Not out of prejudice – their discussion had been on her mind all day. No, it was a matter of personal pride.

"Heavens! It's nearly eleven." No wonder he was stretching and looked ready to be calling it a night.

Grabbing her stacks of processed paperwork, she began the process of sending them through the inbox. The first stack to the Ministry Archives. The second to her office for follow-up. The third back to the point of origin because they'd bungled the form somehow. And so on.

"Do you think you might be able to take me to the Slytherin Common Room at some point? I'd like to have a look at that rune."

Severus gathered up the last of his essays. "I could meet you there around ten in the morning. I'll be done with my sixth years then."

"That would be wonderful," she said as the last of her papers were transmitted to the Ministry. She packed up what was left and tucked it on the shelf.

They walked out of the conference room together, and Hermione headed towards the stairs.

"Right then, see you in the morning."

She turned on her heel to answer him, but miscalculated her distance from the top step. Her heel slid off the stairs, and her arms windmilled as she tried to maintain her balance. 

Severus crossed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her waist, clutching her against him. She let out the gasp of air that she'd thought to be her last and clutched the front of his robes. They were close, so very close, and for a moment she thought she saw Severus's head begin to lower. Her breath hitched again, but Severus simply righted her and stepped away.

"Th-thank you, Severus," she stammered.

"You're quite welcome. I'll see you tomorrow then."

She nodded and walked down the stairs, her heart racing. For a moment, she tried to tell herself it was due to nearly breaking her neck on the Headmaster's stairs, but that was a lie. 

She was still a little dazed when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She meandered towards her room and was about to unlock her door when she changed her mind.

A walk. She needed a walk. And with Harry's map she was free to prowl the castle. She pulled it from her bag, lifting corners of the parchment until she found the set of footsteps with her name. She noticed that Severus was pacing his office, and she stifled the instinct to return to see if everything was okay. She crammed the map back into her handbag. She didn't need the stupid thing unless she got lost.

She trolled the halls, trying to process everything that had happened. And the things that, rather pointedly, hadn't happened.

This was the height of stupidity. Walking through the halls of Hogwarts, wondering whether Severus Snape was interested in her when there were more important things to think about. She looked up and found herself near the Hospital Wing. Yes, this would work well. Seeing Scorpius would refocus her energies.

She pushed open the door and was shocked to hear Draco Malfoy speaking angrily. 

"Snape, you led me to believe that Weasley was here to figure out whatever caused Scorpius's condition. Instead I find that you're off having cosy little dinners and teas."

"Draco, you are needlessly making an issue of this."

"Oh, am I? How exactly is Weasley supposed to make any progress when you're busy trying to get your hands up her skirt?"

Her eyes widened. The empty beds before her blurred. 

The hiss of a spell sizzled through the air, and Malfoy yelped.

"Oh, don't give me that petulant stare, Draco. You deserved that. I am not distracting Mrs Weasley from her efforts. You needn't worry that..."

Hermione fumbled for the door handle before she could hear the rest of Severus's retort. She scurried down the hall, eager to put distance between her and the Hospital Wing. 

She stopped at a window overlooking the Quidditch Pitch. Oh, Severus was wrong, very, very wrong. She was most definitely distracted. Not that it really was affecting her research. Well, not at this point anyway.

Grumbling to herself, she turned to make her way back to her quarters. It was ridiculous that she was standing here, wishing Severus would just act upon the feelings that he felt for her rather than mask them in some ill-guided attempt not to distract her. It wasn't as if she were a student whose springtime romance threatened to derail her N.E.W.T. study schedule.

She sighed. She supposed she could see some of Malfoy's reasoning – frightening as that realisation was. Honestly, she didn't think it had impeded her progress or contributed to her lack of progress. But she couldn't exactly say that she was looking forward to figuring out the room. That would mean leaving, and she was enjoying her time with Severus too much to wish for that.

Although, assuming her interpretation of the hospital scene was correct and the attraction was mutual, there would be plenty of time to pursue something after she'd figured out what was going on with that stupid chamber in the dungeons. Perhaps, she could even convince him to be the one to make the trek up and down the bloody hill.