Six

Author's Notes: This was written for the HG/SS holiday exchange on Live Journal. This was the prompt I chose: #71. Fic: Post-war Hermione and Severus are both doomed to spend Xmas alone until they run into each other in Diagon Alley or London. How, why, and what happens next is up to you. Happy ending, please. Any rating. This prompt was submitted by GinnyWeasley31, and the story is dedicated to her.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Special thanks to my beta reader, JuJuJenn. And thanks to Illyria who did some Brit-picking for me. Any errors, however, are mine alone.

Six

It was ten days before the end of the school year. Snape had spent three exhausting days trying to cram enough information into the heads of his fifth-year students to enable most of them to at least squeak out an 'Acceptable' on their O.W.L.s. In spite of his efforts, he was convinced that at least three students, including one from his own House, would fail. Because he only accepted the best students into his N.E.W.T. class, he was more optimistic about the seventh-years, but he'd spent a lot of time revising with them, as well.

He'd missed dinner to oversee a final revision with the three students most in need of help. He doubted it would make a difference, but at least he knew he had given it his best effort.

He ordered a bowl of soup from a house-elf, and while he waited for it to be delivered, he picked up one of Lupin's books.

He was hungry, he was exhausted, and he was guilty of doing exactly what he'd warned Hermione against the first day she'd begun working with his books. He'd told her that people who were tired and hungry made mistakes and overlooked things, and he very nearly had.

The book he'd picked up wasn't really a book; it was actually the journal of a wizard who'd been indentured to one of his father's debtees. In exchange for the forgiveness of a gambling debt in the sum of thirteen Galleons, the young wizard was forced into three years of service as scribe and accountant for the man to whom the money was owed. He kept a detailed journal of all the goings-on in the house in which he was a virtual prisoner.

According to Galen, the author of the journal, the wizard who had become his master was a practitioner of the Dark Arts who specialised in creating curses that caused painful death. He would practice these curses on the animals he hunted in the forest that was part of his estate. The man would frequently invite his friends to join him on these hunts.

He skimmed over the account of a hunt that Galen had been forced to attend. Galen was, apparently, a peaceful soul and didn't enjoy hunting.

Snape closed his eyes and rubbed them wearily. Galen may have been forced to be a scribe, but his handwriting was small, cramped, and very difficult to read. Not to mention that the style and word usage were archaic.

He almost missed it.

Snape was about to put the journal aside when a sentence he'd read and passed over suddenly leapt to the forefront of his mind. He forced himself to go back to the beginning of the section he'd skimmed over and read every word carefully.

And there it was. Galen had chronicled a curse that his master had used to kill a wild boar.

My master did raise his staff and point it at the beast. A bolt of orange flame did issue from his staff, and when it struck the beast, it did bellow as its skin burst into flames. In moments the animal was dead. The stench of burning hair and smouldering flesh did cause me to retch most horribly.

"Very vivid description, Galen," Snape muttered to himself, "but what was the bloody incantation your master used?"

My master turned to me and did mock me most cruelly for my weakness. He raised his staff again and pointed it at me. His companions urged him to cast the spell. They were in a blood lust that the death of a mere beast had not satisfied. I huddled on the ground and waited to hear the words that would bring forth the orange flame.

Before my master could act, there was a great commotion nearby. The mate of the beast he had killed had come. The second beast gored one of my master's companions, and my master quickly turned and cast 'kaiomai sarka' on the second beast. I fled the forest and returned to my ...

Snape stopped reading. He had it. He had the incantation. It would need to be tested, of course, but he was sure this was the curse that Bellatrix had used on Hermione. Bellatrix had obviously had access to the Black library at Grimmauld Place in the years before her cousin Sirius had inherited the house and turned the books over to Remus Lupin.

If they could recreate the curse, there was a chance of creating a counter-curse. He would need to get Filius involved. To do that, he would have to obtain Hermione's permission. He also wanted Potter and Weasley to be involved with the testing of the curse and the development of a counter-curse. As irritating a brat as he'd been, Potter had matured into a powerful wizard, and Weasley had a knack for strategy, as he'd so ably demonstrated during the Final Battle. He could, perhaps, think like Bellatrix when it was necessary. Besides, there was a deep bond of affection between the three of them; Hermione would need their encouragement and support during what was sure to be a trying and frustrating time.

His hunger and exhaustion forgotten, Snape went to his desk and penned a note to Potter. As they'd previously agreed upon, he Flooed the missive directly to Potter's flat. It was nearly ten o'clock, but he wasn't surprised when Potter's head appeared in his fire a few minutes after he'd sent the message.

"May I come through, Professor?" Potter asked.

"Yes, of course, Potter. That's why I sent you the note," Snape replied.

Harry stepped through the hearth and stood, brushing soot from his jeans and t-shirt.

"Sorry about the mess," Harry said.

"An unavoidable consequence of Flooing," Snape said. "The house-elves will take care of it."

"Ron will be coming through in a few minutes. He had to Apparate back to the Burrow to use the Floo there. He doesn't fit in the electric fire in our apartment."

"Yes, I remember that minor detail. He'd rather be tall."

Before Harry could comment, Snape's Floo activated again.

"Professor Snape, it's Ron Weasley. Can I come through?"

"I don't know, Weasley, can you?"

"Isn't that what I just asked you?" Ron said in a puzzled tone.

Snape shook his head, and Harry grinned.

"You may come through, if you can," Snape said.

A few minutes later, the three of them were huddled over the journal that had yielded the information they had been seeking for so long.

"We'll need to cast the curse to make sure it's the same one," Harry said.

"I agree, but I think there is little doubt this is it. See the incantation?" Snape pointed. "It's Greek. The literal translation is 'burn flesh.' Miss Granger stated that she believed the curse Bellatrix cast was orange. She remembered it because she'd never seen an orange curse."

"Neither have I," said Harry.

"I've never even heard of a curse that's orange," Ron added.

"Nor have I," Snape said. "Yet Galen clearly states that a 'bolt of orange flame' accompanied the curse."

"Let's hope he's right," Harry said.

Snape's soup, which had been delivered while he was writing the note to Harry, had gone cold. He was about to cast a warming charm on it when a house-elf popped in carrying a tray.

"I has brought you fresh soup, Professor Snape," said the elf as he set the tray down.

"Thank you, Dobby," Snape said. "I got distracted."

"Hello, Dobby," Harry said.

"Harry Potter!" Dobby cried out. "Oh, Harry Potter, Dobby has missed you so much!"

Large tears leaked from Dobby's eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

"I have a feeling you'll be seeing quite a bit of me for a while," Harry said.

"Is you be wanting anything, Harry Potter?" Dobby asked. "Dobby can bring you some pumpkin juice or some treacle tarts."

"Oy, Dobby, I'll take a treacle tart," Ron chimed in.

"Pumpkin juice would be good," Harry agreed. "You can't get pumpkin juice in London. And a bowl of that soup would be nice, too. It smells great."

"Dobby will be right back." With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared.

"Didn't you have dinner, Professor?" Harry asked as he watched Snape pick up his soup spoon.

"I was revising a few of my fifth-years. O.W.L.s start tomorrow," Snape said.

Ron very nearly shuddered. "I remember those. Horrible, just horrible."

"As much as it pains me to admit it," Snape said, "you two were not the worst dunderheads ever to sit in my classroom."

Before Harry or Ron could comment, Dobby was back with another tray, this one much larger than the one that had held Snape's soup.

Dobby put the tray down and then lifted the cover to reveal a pitcher of pumpkin juice, a pot of tea, a plate filled with treacle tarts, two more bowls of soup, and a dish of raspberry trifle.

For a few minutes, there was only the sound of spoons clinking into bowls as the three wizards ate their soup. Harry poured pumpkin juice for Ron and himself. Snape filled his cup from the tea pot, and the soothing scent of lemon balm filled the air. When the soup bowls were empty, Ron picked up one of the treacle tarts and took a bite.

"I'd forgotten how good these are," he said, remembering to swallow before talking.

"Did you gentlemen miss dinner, as well?" Snape asked as he watched Harry scoop out a portion of the raspberry trifle.

"We ate," Harry said.

"I never would have guessed," Snape said in his driest tone.

"It was Ron's turn to cook," Harry said without further explanation.

Snape just arched a brow.

"I hate to cook even more than Hermione does," Ron said.

"Tonight we had kippers on toast," Harry said, and he would have sworn that Snape turned green.

"Have some more trifle, Mr. Potter," Snape offered.

When Ron and Harry stood to leave an hour later, the three of them had formulated a plan to begin testing the curse.

Though they all hated the idea, they recognised the necessity of using animals for testing purposes.

"Muggle researchers do it all the time," Harry said. "At least we'll Stupefy them first so they won't feel anything."

"We will work here," Snape said. "I will ask Hagrid to trap some of the more pesky creatures from the Forbidden Forest. Though I would like to get started right away, we'd best wait until the students leave for the summer. It's only ten more days; nine really, since today is just about over."

"Are you going to tell Hermione?" Harry asked.

"If this is the correct curse, Miss Granger will need to work with us to develop the counter-curse. We will also need to bring Filius Flitwick into our confidences. I am reluctant, however, to speak to her until we are certain."

"Ron and I are both due a holiday from the Ministry. We'll request time beginning in nine days. We'll come back here then to test the curse. Once we know we've got it, we'll tell Hermione."

"Is that acceptable to you, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked.

"As much as I'd like to go wake her right now to tell her, I understand why we should wait. I won't say anything to her until we're sure."

"In that case, gentlemen, I will see you in nine days. Right now, I am going to bed. I trust you can see yourselves to the Floo?"

"Good night, Professor Snape," the two younger wizards said.

Snape just nodded and turned toward his bedroom. He fell across his bed fully clothed and didn't even hear the Floo activate.

The next nine days, although both busy and stressful, seemed to drag by. Snape was on edge and was even more sarcastic and unapproachable than usual. The one bright spot was that the three fifth-years who'd seemed likely to fail their Potions O.W.L. actually managed to pass. One of them, though not his Slytherin, had even earned an 'Exceeds Expectations'.

It was with relief and anticipation that he watched the Hogwarts Express chug out of Hogsmeade Station, carrying the students away for the summer holidays.

Harry and Ron arrived late that same afternoon. There had been a flurry of communications between the three wizards during the past nine days as they made preparations to test the Pulpa Adustum Curse.

The two young Aurors had arranged to have a full six weeks off. The head of the Aurors' Office had balked at first, but when Harry had offered to take the time without pay, he had finally agreed. Harry had also made arrangements, privately, for Ron to continue to receive his regular salary while he was gone.

With Minerva's permission, Snape had spoken to Hagrid about obtaining some test subjects. Hagrid had been reluctant at first. He was a gentle soul and had never met a beast he didn't like. Snape had explained the situation, without actually naming Hermione as the victim. Once Hagrid understood the importance of the experiments, he had trapped a number of animals for Snape's use. He was keeping them in secure cages in a remote part of the forest. He'd shown Snape the spot, but had told Snape he didn't want to be present when the 'wee beasties' were sacrificed.

"I suggest we get started immediately," Snape said as he led Harry and Ron through the Forbidden Forest to the area where the test animals were being kept.

When they arrived at the spot, Snape turned to the two younger wizards.

"We will start on one of the feral rats that Hagrid has captured. Mr. Weasley, grab one of them and put it in a cage by itself. Mr. Potter, you will cast the Stunning Spell. Once the animal is unconscious, I will attempt the Pulpa Adustum Curse."

Ron immediately went to a cage that contained a number of rats. He opened the top of the cage and pointed his wand down into it.

"Accio," he said, and one of the rats seemed to leap into his hand.

He dropped the rat into another cage.

Harry pointed his wand at the rat.

"Stupefy," he muttered, and the rat fell over sideways, unconscious.

"Stand aside, gentlemen," Snape said. Harry and Ron quickly moved to the side and slightly behind Snape. Neither of them wanted to be caught in the nimbus of the spell Snape was about to cast.

"Kaiomai sarka," Snape said as he aimed his wand at the unconscious rat.

None of them expected what happened next. A brilliant flash of orange light seemed to explode from the tip of Snape's wand. When it hit the rat, the unfortunate creature burst immediately into flames. Seconds later, the only thing left of the rat was a small pile of smouldering ashes.

"What was that?" Ron asked.

"Bloody hell," Harry said.

"Fuck it!" Snape snarled.

Harry turned to Snape. "Bellatrix Lestrange modified the curse, didn't she?"

"It would appear so," Snape replied. "We will continue the testing. Perhaps the relatively small size of the target is responsible for the unexpected consequence."

"Want to try a ferret?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded.

Ron and Harry repeated their tasks, and soon one of the ferrets was unconscious, awaiting Snape's curse.

"Kaiomai sarka," Snape said again.

The result was the same.

"We could try it on a Nogtail," Ron said. "Hagrid managed to capture two of them."

"No," Snape said.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"It is obvious that this is not the curse that Bellatrix Lestrange used on Miss Granger."

Snape held up a hand to halt the protest he saw forming on Harry's lips.

"There are similarities. The colour of the curse is correct. The effect is different, however. Miss Granger's skin was not burned to this degree."

"But she wasn't hit directly. Maybe you should try aiming the curse to the side of the target," Ron said.

"Your suggestion has merit, Mr. Weasley," Snape said. "Prepare another specimen, another ferret, if you will. I don't think the rats have enough mass to be viable test subjects."

Two hours later, the three wizards walked back to the castle more discouraged than any of them wanted to admit.

In spite of repeated attempts, they had been unable to duplicate Hermione's injury on any of the animals they tested. They had tried casting the curse to the side of the animals and even aiming it over their heads. Then they had tried casting the curse from different distances. The results were all the same: if any portion of the curse hit the target, the animal burst into flames and was incinerated.

"Now what, Professor?" Ron asked.

"Now we call in reinforcements," Snape replied.

"Professor Flitwick?" Harry guessed.

"Yes. We need to have him watch us cast the curse. He will also need to see Miss Granger."

"That means we have to tell Hermione what we've discovered so far."

"Yes."

"She's going to throw a wobbly," Ron said.

Snape threw him a questioning look.

"She'll be pissed off that we've kept this information from her until now," Ron said.

"Then I suppose we'll just have to bear the brunt of her displeasure," Snape replied.

"She'll take the information better from you, I think," Harry said.

"No," Ron said, "we need to tell her, Harry. We can use the fact that she kept her injury from us for so long to deflect her anger."

Snape smirked. He'd been right – Weasley was a brilliant strategist. "I don't envy you the task, gentlemen."

"Thanks a lot," Harry muttered.

"You're not getting off that easy ... sir," Ron said.

"Oh?"

"We'll tell her what we've found out. You'll have to convince her to show Professor Flitwick her injury."

Snape grimaced, but agreed.

"When do you want her here?" Harry asked.

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if it can be arranged. I will speak to Filius tonight."

"We'll go talk to Hermione right now. We'll bring her here first thing in the morning," Ron said.

By this time, the three of them had made it back to the Apparition area outside the castle.

"I'll see all of you here tomorrow," Snape said.

The two younger wizards just waved, and then they both disappeared.

Snape walked back into the castle. He went to his quarters to retrieve Galen's journal, and then he made his way to Ravenclaw Tower. He knocked on the door to Filius's private quarters.

"Severus," Flitwick squeaked.

"Filius, I need your help," Snape said.

Two hours later, the diminutive Charms master knew as much about the Pulpa Adustum Curse as Snape did, except for the name of the victim.

"You've presented me with a most intriguing puzzle, Severus," Flitwick said.

He and Snape were sitting in front of Flitwick's fire, sipping glasses of Firewhisky.

"I hope it's one you'll be able to help me solve."

"How soon will I be able to see the victim? It will be impossible for me to make any kind of assessment until I actually see the injury."

"Some friends of the woman will be bringing her to Hogwarts tomorrow. I will then have to try to convince her to allow you to examine her. She is understandably reluctant to expose herself to people she does not know well. She hadn't even told her family until earlier this year, more than five years after the injury occurred."

"A woman, then," Flitwick said with a small sigh. "Even more horrible because women tend to be more concerned about their physical appearance than men are."

"Probably because men tend to judge women based on their physical appearance rather than on more lasting qualities such as intelligence and character," Snape replied.

"Shallow bastards, aren't we?" Flitwick said.

Snape chuckled. "Indeed, we have all been guilty of that at one time or another."

Flitwick turned serious. "You must convince Miss Granger to allow me to examine her."

"I never said it was Miss Granger," Snape said, carefully keeping his tone neutral.

"Harry Potter's owl is well known here at Hogwarts. Then there was the delivery of a large box of books. And Miss Granger has seldom been seen since the Final Battle. It wasn't that difficult to puzzle out."

"I hope the counter-curse will be as easy a problem for you to solve. She belongs here, in the wizarding world, using her gifts properly."

"I promise you, Severus, that I'll do everything I can to give her the opportunity to do so."

Snape nodded and then stood to leave.

"Thank you, Filius."

When Snape returned to his quarters, there was a parchment sitting on his hearth. He picked it up and unrolled it.

Professor Snape,

The three of us will arrive at Hogwarts at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. And we were right – she was hacked off!

Harry Potter

The following morning at nine o'clock, Snape was waiting at the Apparition point outside the gates.

He watched the three friends pop into existence. Harry had his arm across Hermione's shoulder, and she had her arms around his waist. Apparently, she didn't feel confident enough in her Apparition skills to attempt the journey from London to Hogwarts on her own.

When they steadied themselves, Hermione stepped away from Harry. As soon as Hermione noticed Snape watching them, she approached him.

Her chin was thrust out belligerently, and she had a stormy look in her eyes.

From behind her, Ron grinned at Snape, and Harry just shook his head.

It was apparent that her ire had not abated overnight.

"I'd like a word with you, Professor Snape," she said as soon as she was clear of the circle of stones that marked the Apparition area.

"Just one?" Snape asked with a small smile.

"Don't think you can charm your way out of this," Hermione said as she grabbed his arm and began pulling him toward the castle.

"Me? 'Charm my way out' of anything? Surely, you have me confused with someone else, Miss Granger," he said as he allowed her to drag him along.

"I've already given Harry and Ron a piece of my mind," Hermione said.

"And you still have some left over for me? I'm impressed."

Hermione stopped short at that. She turned and glared at him.

He looked back at her ingenuously.

She took a deep breath and blew it out. "I'm being puerile, aren't I?" she asked.

"Your anger is understandable," he replied. "You should try to remember, however, that your friends were trying to protect you."

They had resumed walking, Hermione holding on to Snape's arm as they traversed the path that led to the back of the castle. They would enter through Snape's private entrance. Harry and Ron would enter through the front door and meet them at Snape's office. This would keep Hermione's presence a secret from any of the staff who might be wandering around the castle.

"And what was your motivation for not telling me?" Hermione wanted to know.

"It was the same. I saw no point in giving you false hope. You've endured enough disappointments over the last few years," he replied.

They had reached the back wall of the castle. Snape drew his wand and tapped the bricks to open the hidden corridor. Hermione stepped through. Snape stepped in behind her and lit the tip of his wand with a muttered, "Lumos."

As they moved down the dim corridor, the bricks closed behind them.

When they got to the end of the corridor, Snape tapped the bricks in front of them.

"It will be a tight fit, if you recall," Snape said.

"Yes, I remember. The pass-through wasn't designed for two people."

The opening formed in front of them, and Hermione stepped into the small room. She moved as far forward as she could, and Snape stepped in behind her.

As Snape stepped into the tiny pass-through, he could feel Hermione's buttocks pressing back against him. She was wearing trainers, rather than high heels, so it was his thighs, rather than his groin, she was pressed against. His traitorous body seemed unable to make the distinction, however, and he felt himself beginning to respond to her nearness.

If Hermione was aware of his burgeoning erection, she didn't indicate it by word or action. She merely hunched forward a bit, trying to make enough room for the door behind them to close properly and the door in front of them to open.

The door behind them stayed open.

"You've put on some weight, Miss Granger," Snape said. His head was bent over hers, and she could feel his breath against her ear.

"You're the one who said I was too thin," she replied.

"You were. Now, however, what was once merely a tight squeeze appears to be impossible."

"Back out," Hermione said. "I'll turn around, and we can try again."

Although reluctant to put himself in a face-to-face position with her, he could see no other option. If this didn't work, they would have to go back through the corridor and enter the castle another way.

Snape gritted his teeth and backed out into the corridor. Hermione turned inside the pass-through, putting her back against the wall that would open into Snape's private storeroom. Snape stepped back inside. Hermione put her arms around his waist and drew him closer, pressing against him. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her thighs against his.

Snape drew in a sharp breath as he felt the rounded softness of her belly pressed against him. There was no way she could not be aware of his raging hard-on.

Instead of pushing him away, as would have expected her to, she dropped her hands to his buttocks and pulled him even closer.

He stifled a groan.

Mercifully, the door behind them closed, and the one in front of them opened. They very nearly stumbled to the floor as the narrow pass-through released them.

Snape released her and jumped back away from her as quickly as he could.

"My ... my apologies, Miss Granger," he stammered.

"It's all right, sir," she replied in a quiet voice. "I understand that it was the circumstances you were reacting to and not me."

Snape wanted to pull her into his arms and show her that it bloody well was more than the 'circumstances' that had caused his reaction. He knew that was impossible, however. She was a former student; she was in a delicate and vulnerable emotional and physical state. He could not – would not – take advantage of her in any way.

"I apologise for ... for touching your ... your ..." Now it was Hermione's turn to stammer.

"My arse," Snape supplied the word with a smile as he watched her blush.

"Yes, well, it seemed that it was that slightly protruding bit of your anatomy was preventing the door from closing."

"I've always thought my arse was rather flat," Snape replied.

"Apparently, it's rounder than you thought," Hermione said, still blushing slightly.

"As intriguing a subject as my arse undoubtedly is," Snape said and watched as Hermione blushed again, "there is something much more important I need to discuss with you. Let's go into my quarters. I'll make you some tea."

Snape was glad to diffuse the situation with a bit of humour.

"Do you have coffee?" Hermione asked. "Ron and Harry woke me up so early this morning, I didn't have a chance to have any."

"Have you eaten breakfast?" Snape asked.

"Harry brought me an egg sandwich thingy he got at a donut shop, but it looked disgusting. I couldn't eat it," she replied, "so I gave it to Ron."

"A wise choice," Snape said. "I'll order you some porridge and some proper eggs to go with your coffee."

They had arrived at Snape's quarters, and he summoned a house-elf to place Hermione's breakfast order.

"Sit," he said pointing to the table.

Hermione sat.

The food was delivered very quickly, and Hermione began to eat. She didn't know how Harry could stand the terrible food he ate. Of course, he'd been half-starved for most of his early childhood, so perhaps he wasn't as particular as he could be about what he ate.

Snape sipped at a cup of coffee and watched Hermione eat. She had so much more enthusiasm for food than she'd had just six months ago. He enjoyed watching her eat. He gave a little mental snort as he realised that he enjoyed watching her work, he enjoyed watching her read – bloody hell, he enjoyed watching her, period. His erection, which had subsided, surged back to life. He shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. Damn, he had to get his mind on other things!

Hermione finished her plate of scrambled eggs and sat back with her cup of coffee.

"Oh, that's better," she said. "Thank you."

"Now that you've had your coffee, there is something important we must discuss," Snape said.

"Harry told me that he found some books at Grimmauld Place."

"Yes."

Snape then went on to tell Hermione of the weeks spent searching through the books – and of how he had nearly missed the information in Galen's journal.

"May I see it?" she asked.

"Of course," Snape said. He stood and retrieved the journal. He found the page with the reference to the flesh burning curse and handed her the opened journal.

She read intently for a few minutes. He saw her go back and re-read the description of the curse.

When she lifted her head from the journal, there were tears in her eyes.

"This is the curse, isn't it?" she asked.

"We thought so," Snape replied.

"You don't think so now?"

"We tested it – several times. The colour of the curse is correct. It's orange. The effects of the curse seem to be different, however. We could not duplicate your injury on any of the animals we tested."

"That's it, then," Hermione said, closing the journal firmly. Her voice was shaky with suppressed emotion. "It's over."

"Only if you want it to be, Miss Granger; I'm not quite ready to capitulate."

"What's left?"

"I would like to have Filius Flitwick examine you," Snape said.

"Why? So he can cluck his tongue, shake his head, and tell me what a pity it is that I've ended up in such a state? No, thank you."

She got up and began pacing.

"You give him far too little credit. I want him to examine you so that when he watches me cast the curse on the test animals, he can try to determine why it doesn't have the same effect on them as it did on you.

"The curse in this journal has been modified. If Bellatrix Lestrange could modify it, then Filius should be able to figure out how she did it and duplicate the modified curse."

"What good will that do?" Hermione demanded.

"Possibly nothing, but do you really want to abandon your efforts without exhausting every available option? There can be no counter-curse unless we know the exact curse that was used."

Still Hermione hesitated.

Snape made one last appeal.

"Do you remember when we met at Grant and Cutler last year?"

"Yes."

"I chided you for wasting your training and education, and you became angry with me."

"I remember," Hermione replied.

"You dropped your glamour to show me your injury and said that it had been the result of a 'parting shot' from Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Is that what I said? I don't remember my exact words."

"I do, and that is what you said. Now, I implore you, Miss Granger, to do everything in your power to parry that 'parting shot'! You did not choose to become a victim. If you do not make this attempt, however, you are choosing to remain one."

Hermione glared at him. "You're still not sugar-coating things, are you?"

"Would you really want me to?" he asked.

Hermione drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"No. No, I wouldn't."

"What is your decision, Miss Granger? Filius has agreed to give up his holiday in Florence to work with us on this. If you aren't willing, we should tell him right away before he cancels his reservations."

"You've already spoken to Professor Flitwick about my injury?"

"I spoke with him about the curse. He guessed your identity."

"How?"

"Do you really believe that your absence from the wizarding world for the past six years has gone unnoticed? You are one of the Golden Trio and a hero of the war. Potter and Weasley have had their pictures splashed across the front pages of The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler at least weekly since the war ended. Don't you think yours would have been, as well, if anyone had known where you were? Your continued absence, coupled with my questions to him, led Filius to logically conclude that you were the injured party.

"Now, what is your decision?" Snape asked again.

"Well, since Professor Flitwick already knows I'm injured, I don't suppose there's really any reason for not showing him, is there?"

"I'll Floo him right now," Snape said.

"Afraid I'll change my mind?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all. I just don't want to waste any time finding a counter-curse."

Three minutes later, Professor Flitwick stepped through the emerald flames in Snape's fireplace and onto the hearth.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Filius," Snape said. "You remember Miss Granger?"

"Of course, of course," Professor Flitwick said in his squeaky little voice. "The very first student in her class to master Wingardium Leviosa."

Professor Flitwick bent over her hand in a courtly bow. "How are you, my dear?"

"I've been better, Professor Flitwick," Hermione said.

"And, hopefully, you'll be better again," Professor Flitwick replied. "Now, will you kindly drop your glamour and allow me to assess your injury?"

Hermione sat on the sofa, and Professor Flitwick stood on a small stool he had transfigured. When she let her glamour fade, he leaned over her, peering through his spectacles.

She had been at least partly right. He did cluck his tongue and shake his head, but other than an occasionally muttered, "Diabolical bitch, simply diabolical," he made no comment as he probed gently at her scalp, her cheek, and her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I have to ask, my dear," he said a moment later, "but I really need know how extensive your injury is. Does it cover your entire breast?"

Hermione blushed. "Not quite. It stops about an inch above my ... my nipple. Do you ... do you need to see it?"

"Breast tissue has a different density than the tissue on your scalp and face. It would be helpful if you would allow me a peek. Would you be more comfortable if Madam Pomfrey was present? I believe she is still in the castle."

"I ... I don't suppose it matters," she said. She began unbuttoning her blouse.

"I'll be outside," Snape said hastily.

"Please don't go, Professor Snape," Hermione said in a pleading tone. "Believe it or not, I'll be more comfortable with both of you here."

Snape just nodded.

Hermione finished unbuttoning her blouse. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She let the cup of her bra fall forward, exposing the lumpy-looking flesh. She was careful to keep her nipple covered. She told herself that she wasn't any more exposed than she would be wearing a swim suit or a low-cut evening gown. She looked down, keeping her eyes focused on a spot of soot on the rug. She felt Professor Flitwick touch her breast right above the lowest area of damaged flesh.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said a moment later.

Hermione quickly refastened her bra and buttoned her blouse. Only when she was done did she lift her eyes from the floor. That was when she discovered that Snape was staring at her.

She lifted her chin. Snape flushed and looked away.

Snape was mortified. He'd been staring at her exposed breast like a randy teenager. That was bad enough, but the fact that she'd caught him at it made it even worse. He'd simply been unable to look away. And he'd also been unable to prevent the erection the sight of her breast had produced. What kind of perverted bastard was he to become aroused by the sight of her damaged breast?

"Severus, you must cast the charm for me," Flitwick said, unaware of the interplay between the room's other two occupants.

Snape cleared his throat and pushed his self-recrimination to the back of his mind. "Ah, yes, of course, Filius. We'll need to go to the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid has some test subjects caged in a remote area."

Snape turned toward the door, and Flitwick followed him. Hermione stood and walked toward the door, as well.

"There's no need for you to accompany us, Miss Granger," Snape said, not quite meeting her eyes.

"I want to see it," she said.

"It may stir up unpleasant memories."

"Believe me, sir; my memories can't be any more 'unpleasant' than they already are."

"Miss Granger should come," Professor Flitwick said. "Seeing the curse being cast may actually help her to remember something helpful to us."

Hermione arched a brow at Snape as if to say, 'See? I told you so'!

"If you faint," Snape said in a sour voice, "I'm not carrying you back to the castle." He felt the faint tingle of the promise he'd made to Albus teasing at the back of his mind, but he ignored it.

"I won't faint," Hermione insisted.

"Very well, then," Snape said. "I'm going to cast a Disillusionment Charm on you so that we don't have to use my private entrance. It will be quicker that way."

Not to mention the fact that I won't have to feel your body pressed against mine, he thought and wondered why that solution hadn't occurred to him sooner.

She just nodded.

Snape cast the charm over her, and she walked out between him and Professor Flitwick.

Hermione didn't faint, but it was a near thing. She stood next to Harry and Ron who had joined them when they left Snape's quarters. She watched as Snape cast the Pulpa Adustum Curse over and over again on a number of rats and ferrets, always with the same result. The animals burst into flames, and in moments they were nothing but piles of smouldering ashes.

"You can see, Filius, that this is not the effect the curse had on Miss Granger," Snape said.

"Indeed not," Professor Flitwick said. "And you tried from greater distances?"

"Yes," Snape said.

"She was only about ten metres away from me when she threw the curse," Hermione interjected.

"We tried from nearly twice that distance with the same result," Snape said.

Flitwick turned to Hermione.

"I know it was a difficult moment, Miss Granger, but did you notice anything about the curse that seems different from the one Professor Snape is casting?"

Hermione closed her eyes as she thought back to that moment.

"I don't think the curse-light was as deeply coloured as this one appears. It was orange, but not as dark an orange. Also, the curse itself seemed to be more ... more diffused, if that makes any sense," Hermione said.

Flitwick's eyes lit up a bit. "It was less concentrated, less intense?"

"Yes, exactly."

"It is obvious the curse has been modified," he said turning and speaking to

Snape. "I will need some time to figure out how."

"Do you think you'll be able to do it, sir?" Ron asked.

Flitwick looked up at Ron and fixed him with a penetrating stare.

"At the risk of sounding immodest, Mr. Weasley," he said in his thin, piping voice, "Bellatrix Lestrange's charms work is no match for mine."