Variation in Tactics

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me. Just borrowed. Will be returned. Snape is welcome to stay, though.

A big Thank You goes to my beta-reader, Maggie, and my beta-reader and brit-picker, Melusin, who both are always encouraging, helpful, and thorough.

This chapter is dedicated to excessivelyperky, who always inspires me with her reviews.

Chapter 17 – Variation in Tactics

8.10. Reduce the hostile chiefs by inflicting damage on them; and make trouble for them, and keep them constantly engaged; hold out specious allurements, and make them rush to any given point.

8.11. The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.

(Sun Tzu, The Art of War, VIII. Variation in Tactics)

A week later, Hermione was on her way to the Office Cave for another Occlumency lesson with Snape. She was looking forward to it very much. Her feelings hadn’t changed since the wedding, but the few times she had seen him that week had only been briefly during meals.

Hermione knew that Snape had been watching Parvati. He had talked to Parvati privately several times, consulted Cassia Fenwick, and watched Parvati some more. Parvati reacted to all the scrutiny with stoic acceptance. She confided in Hermione that she was aware of being evaluated, and that she hoped she would measure up to expectations. Hermione wasn’t allowed to tell her about the plan yet, but she was able to encourage Parvati by confirming that she would indeed get an important mission very soon––if she was up to the task.

In the meantime, Hermione had mulled over her idea on how to spare the Underground the presence of Sibyll Trelawney without putting the Divination mistress, or the Underground, in too much danger. Whenever she’d had some leisure time between her tasks, Hermione had taken a small stone out of her pocket and stared at it pensively. Sabrina, Dudley Dursley’s girlfriend, had given the small Aquamarine to her months ago.

"This stone will make your speech clear and convincing," Sabrina had said to Hermione. "Your wisdom and intelligence is concealed under your façade of book-learning, and it takes a lot of convincing to make others see this. This will help you with it."

That prediction had been spot-on. Hermione did have to speak convincingly; otherwise, Snape would never have believed the urgency of Hermione’s outside missions, her need for the searches in the libraries and archives, and for the questioning of Aberforth Dumbledore in the Hog’s Head. She had also, unknowingly at the time, convinced him of her admiration for him. That had gained her his trust, and maybe Sabrina’s stone had helped her with that, too. And maybe Sabrina, who believed in magic, talked about auras and thought that she was a witch, could help her with her new dilemma as well.

There was only the tiny difficulty left of telling Nundu about her idea. Hermione glared at the small crystal, grumbled, “You’d better know what’s good for you,” knocked on the office door and went in.

Snape was sitting behind a huge desk working his way through stacks of paperwork. Who would have thought that a group of pseudo-dead people could cause such a need for administration? But accounts had to be balanced; their pseudo businesses had to keep up appearances. Taxes had to be paid and funds redirected to sources the Underground could use. It was no small feat.

Snape looked up when Hermione came into the office and greeted her with a nod. And once again, just from looking at him, her breath caught. No matter what he does, he just has an incredible presence, she thought. Smiling a greeting, she sat down, pushing her treacherous thoughts and emotions out of her conscious mind. It wouldn’t do for Snape to see how deeply she felt for him during their lessons. She didn’t want to be dismissed as a silly girl.

Snape closed the file he had been working on and took his wand out of his pocket. While Hermione watched him, she went through her breathing routine and felt coldness spread out from her heart through her whole body. She knew that she was turning pale; her fingers and toes started to feel icy, and an unnatural calmness was cloaking every emotion, every desire. She was ready for her lesson.

Without speaking a word, Snape attacked. He rounded the desk, stared into her eyes and tried to invade her mind. Hermione had expected it and showed him what she had learned. Stray thoughts of everyday activities––Muggle and magical––were allowed to float to the forefront of her consciousness. These were the images she wanted Snape to see; everything else was concealed as if it were unimportant or simply not there.

“Good,” Snape said after a while, retreating from her mind. “There isn’t much more that I could teach you about Occlumency. All you need now is constant practice.”

“Oh.” Hermione was disappointed. “No more lessons?”

Fast as a striking adder, Snape attacked again. Hermione would have laughed, but her reflexes were well trained by now. Amusement had immediately been pushed into that icy vault together with all her other feelings. What she allowed Snape to see was a mild disappointment in not being able to continue the lessons she enjoyed. She showed him how much she liked those lessons and even allowed some vague feelings about how much she enjoyed his company and enjoyed learning from him to float through her mind. Hermione saw no reason why he shouldn’t be aware of that.

“Rather impressive,” Snape murmured. “If Potter had your dedication for learning, we’d have fewer problems. And now it’s time to turn things around.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, puzzled.

“It’s time for you to learn Legilimency. Knowledge of Legilimency will help you to perfect your Occlumency. Only when you’re capable of invading someone else’s mind will you learn the difference between how a wide-open mind and an Occluded mind feels. This will help you with the spinning of falsehoods or the showing of selective thoughts. You will be able to present more precise ‘thoughts’ as compared to the rather ambiguous mixture of thought-fragments.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Well, yes, I’d like to learn that. How do I start?”

“Get your wand out, look into my eyes, focus on what you want to achieve and say ‘Legilimens’. I shall only use my basic level of Occlumency.”

Hermione raised her wand. As soon as she spoke the incantation, a black flash and some vague impressions of landscapes and people appeared in her mind until she bounced against a wall. She was thrown back violently and crashed to the floor. A few books from a nearby bookshelf fell on top of her, hitting her head.

“Ow! Was that necessary?”

“You need to be more careful, Nightshade. Mind Magic isn’t child’s play.” Snape crouched at her side, grabbed her chin and turned her face towards him. His fingertips brushed over the developing bruise on her forehead, and Hermione’s breath caught once again. Snape cast a Healing Charm on the bruise and checked for other injuries. Hermione was trembling, partly because of his touch, but mostly because her muscles were cramping.

“I can’t breathe,” she gasped. “My sides… It’s like stitches... after running…”

Snape supported her back with one hand and put the other hand under her ribcage, over her diaphragm, applying slight pressure in a slow and steady rhythm, as he had done many times before when he’d taught her the breathing exercises necessary for achieving best results at Occlumency. Hermione shuddered again. His touch now was rather counterproductive to calming her down, but she couldn’t possibly tell him that. It wouldn’t hurt to make an effort, though. She tried to forget that it was Snape who was touching her and focused on breathing in a steady rhythm.

“There. That’s better. Try to calm down.” He let go of her, and Hermione scrambled to her feet.

“What was that? Why did you throw me out so violently?”

“I didn’t throw you out; you did that yourself. Beginners usually have trouble focussing, but you entered my mind so forcefully that you virtually bounced against my barriers. Mind Magic can affect your nervous system when it isn’t performed with precision. It’s among the most difficult and dangerous disciplines of magic—never to be performed lightly. All those botched Memory Charms you know about should have given you some idea already. I’m surprised that you are surprised.” He smirked at her.

Hermione shook her head and gave him a twisted smile. “I suppose I just assumed that all basic Legilimency would work like Harry’s unintentional invasion of your mind during his Occlumency lessons. He did invade your mind, didn’t he?”

Snape grimaced. “He did. But those were special circumstances. At that time, I wasn’t using Occlumency constantly; I was more reliant on leaving dangerous memories in a Pensieve. I still do, on occasion, and I wonder if that might be an option for Miss Patil as well? We will have to teach her Occlumency, but I doubt that we can proceed much further than a solid concealment of her thoughts.”

“We?”

“I trust that you can teach her the basics. You will have to practice with her every day. I will monitor her progress whenever I am here; Perry will do the same. In the meantime, you will learn Legilimency; that will enable you to teach her beyond the initial steps. It will also come in useful for future missions with me.”

“Oh,” was all Hermione could say. She was thrilled that Snape was planning to take her on special missions again. But she shouldn’t really be surprised: that was why she had received special treatment, after all. It had nothing to do with his personal preferences and everything to do with justified trust and practicality. Slightly disillusioned, she pushed the tiny glimmer of hope back into her mind vault and cleared her throat.

“How will Legilimency help us on our missions?”

“Didn’t you see how I communicated with Dumbledore before I…” Snape swallowed. “Before I killed him.” He ground his teeth. “We communicated through Legilimency and…”

“That’s how you did it?” Hermione interrupted excitedly. “I was wondering why I could see his command in your memories. How is that done? That’s fantastic! It’s such a great way to…”

“Silence!” Snape hissed. “As delightful as it may be that you’re taking such an interest in the topic, your incessant babbling won’t get us anywhere. If you could kindly resort to listening, you might actually learn something.”

Hermione scowled but kept her peace and merely nodded her assent.

“Very well, then.” His eyes glittered, and his lips curled.

Annoyed, Hermione realised that he was laughing at her. She crossed her arms and stared at him defiantly. “And?”

“If two Legilimens cast the spell at the same time—and allow the other to enter—they can see the thoughts they are supposed to see. At the same time, they push their questions, thoughts or replies to the forefront of their minds. That way, with a lot of practice, rather complex conversations can be held without anyone else noticing. I’ll leave it to you to estimate the value of such a skill.”

Despite her earlier annoyance, Hermione got excited again, and her eyes shone. “I can’t wait to learn it.”

“That’s why you are here,” he murmured, going to stand in front of her again. “I shall now cast Legilimency on you, and you will show me what you had for dinner. We will have a simple conversation where I ask questions and you answer."

"I thought both sides needed to cast Legilimency for that?"

"For complex conversations, yes. In that case, both participants would want to read each other's ideas. For a simple exchange, I can push my thoughts into your mind since you'll be open to my intrusion and expecting it." He hesitated and looked at her critically before he continued, "That way, you might get a feeling for the strength necessary for a mild invasion before you try it again. Ready?”

Hermione swallowed and nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Legilimens.”

Hermione hardly felt his intrusion into her mind this time. This was very different from the sudden and mostly violent attacks with which he normally challenged her Occlumency. This contact was gentle, polite, and rather pleasant. Too pleasant to follow that train of thought any further. She pushed the image of pea soup to the front of her mind. Snape's confused frown showed her that he had probably caught some of her earlier thoughts, but that couldn’t be helped.

”Just pea soup?” The question was suddenly there, and it hadn’t originated in her own brain. Instead of the image, she tried to silently vocalize the reply, “And pudding.”

”Now I’m hungry. Is there some pudding left, do you think?”

Hermione thought about a group of always-hungry children fighting over the pudding until nothing was left. That produced a strange sensation in her head; a soft vibration was travelling through her mind and seemed to be massaging her brain from the inside. It took a while for her to understand that this was Snape chuckling.

”And there was me thinking that the brain wasn’t capable of feeling anything,” she thought. ”How wrong I was. My brain seems to be ticklish.” That brought her another chuckle.

The mental smile lingered briefly in her mind before Snape gently closed the connection between them. “Now it’s your turn to try again. Don’t try so hard this time; you know that you can do it without much effort. Just cast the spell and imagine that you’re floating into my mind.

Hermione nodded and raised her wand. “Legilimens.” Once again, she saw a black flash, but instead of being thrown out by that flash, it seemed to suck her in, and she was confronted with a jumble of disconnected thoughts. Hermione was utterly fascinated. It was one thing to have her own mind invaded, unwillingly or with permission, but it was completely different to be the one who was doing the invading.

She was in the mind of someone else. This was Severus Snape’s mind. And if they cast the spell simultaneously, he'd be in her mind, too. They'd be in each other’s mind. That was a very exciting thought. How much more intimate could two people get, apart from having sex? And how would it be if two people who were making love cast the spell? No, better not think about that. He might pick up a stray thought, Hermione mused. Instead, she focused on what he wanted to show her.

“All right?” The words seemed to ring through her ears and appear in front of her eyes. Snape had been right when he had told Harry that ‘reading the mind’ was a simplified Muggle-type explanation for a complex procedure. The sensations of being in someone else’s mind and of actively communicating were so intricate; they couldn’t be summed up in just a few words.

”I’m fine. This is incredible,” she thought back, wondering how he would perceive her answer.

”The same way you do, as a conglomerate of impressions.”

”You heard that, huh?” Hermione wondered if he could see or feel her embarrassed grin.

”You pushed it right at me. We’d better stop that now; you can practice the hiding and revealing of your thought snippets on your own. Carefully retreat, now. I won’t push.”

Hermione imagined gathering her strands of thought like a coach driver collecting the horses’ reins. Slowly and gently pulling those strands towards her, she mentally stepped back from him, and gradually his face came into focus again. His eyes were huge—like black tunnels—with long black lashes, but not as cold as she had always thought. Those tunnels held something inviting, something welcoming. And those lashes… But she had to leave those eyes, now. A final tug on the ‘reins’, and she was outside, seeing Snape’s eyes in proportion to the rest of his face again.

“Next time, we'll cast the spell at the same time," he said. "You'll notice that the communication will be more intense and a lot easier."

"I'm looking forward to it," Hermione said, feeling exhausted but also elated. Snape studied her for a moment.

"After today's session, it is possible that you’ll get a headache later this evening. It is advisable not to take a headache potion. Better to lie down and get some sleep. Your mind has to get used to this kind of activity; this is rather different from Occluding.”

Hermione nodded and rubbed her forehead, blinking a few times to clear her vision. That was when Snape attacked a third time. Hermione stumbled and nearly fell, but he seemed to have expected that and steadied her with one hand. But his presence in her mind had nothing of the pleasantness of the earlier Legilimency experience.

Hermione allowed herself to hurl her thoughts of annoyance and anger towards Snape, but she didn’t push him out of her head. An attack as aggressive as this one, when performed by an enemy, wouldn’t come secretly, and the normal responses of a non-Occlumens would be shock, fear and anger. Her Occlumency barrier was well hidden under her anger, and she allowed herself to let some more of the annoyance show. Snape had taught her that anger was always a good method to cloak the mind; it was about the only emotion that didn’t have to be suppressed.

After a while, Snape left her thoughts. His hand was still on her arm, and he looked at her apologetically. “I trust that you know that was necessary?”

“Of course,” Hermione murmured, trying to smile but not quite succeeding.

Snape seemed to remember that he was still touching her and let her go abruptly, stepping back.

“That’s enough for today. It pains me to boost your ego, but you did extremely well, Nightshade. Now go and get some rest.”

Hermione grinned. “Better be careful, Nundu. I’d quite enjoy giving you that kind of pain––yes, yes, I know. Less of the cheek.” She chuckled at his mock scowl. “I’ll leave you in a minute, but there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about.” She swallowed, wondering how he would react to her idea.

“Now she tells me,” he growled. “What is it?”

“Er, you remember, we were talking about Sibyll Trelawney, last week, after the wedding? About what to do with her…?”

“Yes,” he interrupted impatiently. “Go on.”

“I haven’t come up with any details yet, but, er, Harry’s cousin’s girlfriend is a Muggle, who thinks she’s a witch who can do magic. The kind of magic Muggles dream up, you know. She does Tarot readings, claims to see auras, and reads palms. She also does a bit of crystal gazing. She may even have some residual talent for Divination. I wouldn’t know, but seeing as you insist on Divination being a valuable tool…” She grinned.

“Get on with it,” he said, but instead of being impatient, he seemed to be interested.

“Sabrina wants to open a Wellness studio together with Dudley as soon as he leaves school. A wellness studio is something Muggles use for…”

“I know what wellness is, Nightshade. Continue.”

“Oh. Right. Anyway, she has a kind of Divination studio already; she got the money from her father and seems to be doing well enough with it. I thought that Professor Trelawney could perhaps work for Sabrina. She’d be hidden in plain sight; none of the Death Eaters would suspect her to be hiding amongst Muggles, would they?”

“There’s no reason why they should. Not with Miss Patil posing as Trelawney at Hogwarts... Hmm. And how do you think that contact could be made? You can’t just walk up to that… Sabrina… and ask her to provide employment for Sibyll Trelawney. You’re dead to the world.”

“Yes, that’s the tricky part, isn’t it?” Hermione was relieved that he hadn’t rejected her idea outright. “We’d just have to chance it and send Trelawney to apply for the job. Once those two are in the same room together, I don’t think there will be any problems. Sabrina will be intrigued, and Trelawney always enjoys an admiring audience. They’ll take to each other like ducks to water.”

“Interesting,” Snape said, staring at her thoughtfully. “Aren’t you concerned about Sabrina’s safety, though? There is some risk involved as you undoubtedly realise.”

“Of course I’m concerned.” Hermione bit her lip. “But I know that if Sabrina knew the truth, she’d want to help us. And I didn’t think that the risk for Sabrina would be any higher than the risk for Paulie was… You never even mentioned the risk you put him under.”

“You're right. The risks are about the same. The Dark Lord isn’t interested in Muggles. If they are in his way, he kills them. He doesn’t consider them worthy of further thought. He’d never expect a pure-blooded witch like Trelawney to live amidst Muggles voluntarily. And Paulie—the Dark Lord knows that I keep in contact with my Muggle relatives. He is aware of the advantage; I am able to hide amongst Muggles, to blend in completely. This was advantageous after I, ah, left Hogwarts. As long as the Dark Lord needs me to move around freely, he needs my Muggle relatives to keep up my Muggle persona. In a sense, he protects them. So you see, being seen with Paulie is never suspicious, and if Paulie knew the truth, he’d want to help, too, I know that. So no, I'm not overly concerned about him.”

Hermione nodded, grimacing. “I suppose that the Underground has to go by the same ethical principles as any other army. Risking collateral damage, the end justifying the means and all that. I can’t say that I like it, but I understand it. I think.”

Snape raised an eyebrow and stared. “That’s a bit rich coming from you.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione was surprised.

“I remember more than one occasion when you were rather creative in the treatment of your antagonists. Your Sneak spell on one of your DA friends was the talk of the staffroom for months, as was your treatment of Umbridge—not that I’d blame you for the latter. But the girl, last thing I heard, is disfigured for life. So I’m sorry if I can’t quite understand your scruples when we use, ah, unorthodox methods to solve our problems.”

Hermione stared at him nonplussed. “I… She betrayed us. She didn’t need to betray us. Just staying away and telling her mother that she didn’t know anything would have been enough—Marietta Edgecombe, I mean. And that Umbridge… She’s creepy.”

“Yes, she is. And that is sufficient justification for disfiguring one and harming the other?”

Hermione blushed crimson. “I… I didn't really think about it. When I read about the spell, I thought it was perfect for protecting the DA, so I used it. Uhm–yeah, I suppose it might have been wrong to use such a strong spell without having the counter-spell.”

They stared at each other with narrowed eyes. Hermione swallowed, scowled and continued, “Look, I am sorry about Marietta, but I needed a strong spell to protect the DA. We had such difficulties with Filch and Umbridge…”

As she said that, a thought occurred to her. She smirked slightly and quoted, “Sun Tzu says: If, on the other hand, in the midst of difficulties we are always ready to seize an advantage, we may extricate ourselves from misfortune.”

Snape glared at her, but his lips twitched. Hermione took that as encouragement.

“I’m not sorry about Umbridge, at all. She sent Dementors after Harry. Dementors! Did you know that they almost kissed his cousin? She’s dangerous, that one. You could almost suspect that she’s in league with You-Know-Who.”

“Not that I know of... And yes, I was aware that she had sent the Dementors. I hope you are aware, too, that you have two dangerous personal enemies now, Nightshade?”

“Uhm–”

“General enemies are difficult enough, but when it gets personal, it often only ends when one of the combatants is killed.”

Hermione paled. “I just wanted to stop her… I was so angry… you know?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I know only too well where personal vendettas can lead you. Try to avoid them in the future.”

“Uh– uhm, I…”

Snape’s eyes widened. “There’s another one? How many more? Who? Out with it.”

“Er, only one, I think. It’s Skeeter. Do you know that she’s an unregistered Animagus? A beetle? I caught her after she spread all those lies about Harry in our fourth year. And I blackmailed her…”

“Lovely,” Snape said nastily. “Isn’t it just lovely to see, again and again, how the saintly members of Gryffindor House present themselves as stellar examples for ethics and morals? And they are always so thoughtful about the consequences of their actions.”

Hermione’s anger flared. “Is there a point in regurgitating past sins? Should I now start adding up everything that’s been done by Slytherins?” She was almost angry enough to ask him about his own bullying of Neville Longbottom, but she was afraid of angering Snape too much. She’d reserve that for a day when they were both in a friendlier mood. Hurling accusations and insults at him may not be the best method to get him to fall in love with me, she thought, and had to suppress a giggle. At the moment, she was feeling anything but romantic, but at least her humour was coming back.

Snape glowered but nodded. “We have a decision to make about your plan to hide Sibyll Trelawney with that Muggle woman. If your, ah, ethical questions about the Underground’s methods are answered now, then maybe we could proceed with the topic at hand?”

Hermione swallowed and nodded. “So, will you consider it?”

“I’ll think about it. It could work. Trelawney need never know about the Underground. If she should get captured after all, she cannot betray what she doesn’t know.”

“I’m glad,” Hermione said. “And now I’d better go before you learn about even more of my sins." She flashed him a grin. "Goodnight, Nundu.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Better had. That would take all evening. Goodnight.”

When Parvati learned about the plan to pose as Sibyll Trelawney, she was excited and very keen to start. Hermione’s efforts to teach her Occlumency when Snape or Price didn’t have time proved to be very efficient. Parvati wanted to learn and had already shown, after the murder of her family, that she was capable of pushing her emotions to the side and acting cold-bloodedly if needed. This capacity helped her build an Occlumency vault where she could hide her true thoughts. Thinking about Divination was a very efficient way to confuse any potential intruder. Hermione always left the lessons with a headache. While her Legilimency lessons with Snape were proceeding well, she was still unprepared to deal with such an onslaught of foggy clairvoyance. When the words “and the fool shall lie on the tower, but death shall lie upside down, and the cup will be one, and the wand is to be found, and the queen will triumph, and the lovers prevail,” resounded again and again in Parvati’s head, Hermione wondered if Voldemort wouldn’t actually enjoy invading the fake Trelawney’s mind if he ever got hold of her. He would be most interested in those thoughts.

Hermione voiced her concerns to Snape, but he reassured her that this would be precisely the effect they wanted to achieve. Voldemort should be distracted from any suspicion—not even getting close to the idea that Parvati-Trelawney wasn’t who she appeared to be. Thoughts about prophecies and the vague foretelling of mysterious but important sounding events would achieve just that.

“Do not make the mistake of thinking that the Dark Lord is a harmless fool who is easily distracted,” Snape snarled when he saw Hermione’s amused and Parvati’s relieved face after he told them that. “The tiniest suspicion, and he will invade mercilessly. And he won’t be as gentle as I usually am, either.” He glared at Hermione, who shuddered. If his regular practice attacks on her mind were considered gentle, then she didn’t want to know what mercilessly really meant in that context.

“When I attack, I take care not to damage my ‘victim’s’ mind, and that means knowing exactly how to detect barriers, and how far I can go. The Dark Lord, however, has no such scruples. When he has the slightest suspicion, he won’t rest until he’s broken all your barriers and revealed everything you want to hide. He won’t care if you have a mind left afterwards or not. The only way around this is to either appear so foolishly harmless that he won’t suspect Occlumency or to present one or two fake, weaker barriers that are meant to be broken.”

“What do you think I should do, Nundu?” Parvati asked, her eyes shining. “I suppose you want me to look foolishly harmless?”

“Not necessarily. No one would suspect from Sibyll Trelawney that she knows Occlumency, but many witches and wizards put up some natural barriers in their minds. It’s something most rather strong-willed people possess, mostly without being aware of it. It would not be unusual for someone like Sibyll Trelawney to have that barrier. On the outside, there should be harmless everyday thoughts: annoyed, pleased, things about teaching and Divination. Behind the barrier should be emotions of being lonely, of feeling slighted, or in your case, thoughts about Perry Price and Trelawney’s delight to be his love-interest, to have finally found someone who seems to care for her. You can spin endless imaginary tales around those emotions alone. But it’s better if you practice them on us first.”

Parvati nodded. “So. I spin several levels of fake barriers and still try to appear foolish?”

“Not foolish, but that cloud of vague fortune-telling you spun earlier will be quite efficient as a surface layer. It can be confused, whimsical or eccentric, or all of it. Make it as rich and authentic as you can. And let’s hope that you’ll never actually need to use it.”

“So you don’t think that he’ll want to kidnap me?”

“We may have to make him kidnap you to have a constant source of fake prophecies for him at the right time. However, this should be a last resort, and he should not be able to get close enough to you to kidnap you without our knowledge. But you must be prepared for everything; things can go very wrong.”

“I know,” Parvati said and looked hard and determined again.

After the second week of March, Snape and Price declared Parvati’s Occlumency skills sound enough to make the switch with Sibyll Trelawney. She would continue her training with Price at Hogwarts.

As a baptism of fire, the Polyjuiced Parvati, together with Price, went to Sabrina’s Divination Studio to get a reading and to use the opportunity to make a few predictions of her own. Hermione was certain that, once acquainted, Sabrina would be thrilled to recruit Trelawney for her studio. Sabrina didn’t disappoint; she invited the fake Trelawney to dinner and would have taken her on immediately if Price hadn’t stopped her and negotiated a salary first.

And now, in the middle of March, the switch could be made and the prophecy spoken. Hermione and Snape accompanied Parvati, who had already taken the modified Polyjuice Potion with a hair of Sibyll Trelawney in it. Hermione felt odd in her company; Parvati imitated Trelawney so perfectly that Hermione could barely suppress her long-standing hostility towards the Divination teacher.

They had Apparated to the Forbidden Forest and were now waiting for Price to bring Trelawney and take Parvati to the castle. Hermione was in her usual disguise of a curly-haired, brown-eyed girl that otherwise bore no resemblance to her. Snape, as usual, came without disguise.

Parvati was pacing impatiently, clutching the phial with the Polyjuice Potion Trelawney would have to drink before she could be brought to her new flat close to Sabrina’s Studio. It was the same potion Parvati had used when she’d met Sabrina; it contained the hair of an average-looking Muggle woman. After a while, sounds in the forest indicated that someone was approaching. They all hoped it would be Price with Trelawney.

Snape and Hermione both had their wands out, listening intently. While the Forbidden Forest seemed the perfect place for secret actions, the centaurs and other Forest dwellers were watchful and could show up at unexpected times. During the switch, Hermione would stand guard and Confund anyone or anything that came too close.

A moment later, however, Hermione felt the locket around her neck getting warm, and when she opened it, a voice whispered, “Perry is coming”.

“Thank you, Ethel,” Hermione whispered back, smiling at the three witches in her portrait, who were waving at her merrily. Every member of the DA had such a locket containing the portrait of a group of wizards and witches pretending to be a family group. Only, these family portraits never remained quite the same since the painted people were constantly wandering from one portrait to the next, visiting, gossiping, and relaying messages for the Underground. The messages were safe: only the portraits in the lockets were connected to each other; the inhabitants of said portraits had agreed to be confined for however long it was necessary for them to play messengers.

Hermione nodded at Snape and Parvati, who hid behind a tree. A moment later, Price and Sibyll Trelawney appeared in the small clearing. Without a word, Trelawney walked towards Snape and stood in front of him, waiting. Snape motioned to Parvati, who came out of hiding and offered the phial.

“Drink this,” Snape ordered, and Trelawney obeyed.

Hermione was surprised. She knew that Price was supposed to cast a mild Memory Charm on Trelawney to make her forget who she was, but she didn’t know that the charm would make her so docile. It was almost as if Sibyll were under the Imperius Curse. But they wouldn’t cast a Dark Curse, would they? Hermione stared at Snape with suspicion in her eyes. He caught her glance and frowned.

In the meantime, Price and Parvati-as-Trelawney had made their way back to the castle. Price would see to it that Parvati was safe in Trelawney’s quarters where Minerva McGonagall was already waiting to help Parvati settle in. Price would then return to take Sibyll to Sabrina.

As soon as Price came back, he ordered Trelawney to follow him and Disapparated with her to a place close to Sabrina’s studio. Hermione turned to Snape.

“That was an odd Memory Charm. She acted almost as if she were under the Imperius Curse.”

“She was under the Imperius Curse.”

“But, it’s an Unforgivable!” Hermione cried, worried and outraged.

“Compose yourself, Nightshade,” Snape hissed.

“But an Unforgivable?” Hermione whispered. “This is horrible.”

“It was necessary, and I’ll thank you to let the matter rest, now. Minerva knows about it and has approved, if that makes you feel better. Or would you prefer if we’d asked Ministry Aurors to cast the curse? It’s not as if there was much of a choice. Sibyll Trelawney must not remember who and what she is, and she must act in a way not to raise suspicion. Must I remind you that this whole charade was your idea? We could not risk a lesser charm. It could be broken too easily.”

“But…”

“Hush!” Snape had raised a hand, pointing north. Hermione had heard it, too. There had been a long high-pitched wail not too far away. And now someone, a woman, was softly singing a lamentation, accompanied by the babbling and sputtering of male voices. A glance at Snape, a nonverbal "Legilimens," and the command ‘Investigate!’ appeared in her mind.

Very carefully, they navigated their way around the old trees towards the place where the sounds were originating. Hermione wondered whether the sounds were coming from students who were out for a bit of mischief in the Forbidden Forest, or if anyone was hurt. Wondering if she should cast a Disillusionment Charm on them both, she scrambled through the undergrowth, following Snape’s lead.

They had walked for ten minutes with the voices constantly getting louder when Snape suddenly stopped, drawing a sharp breath. Hermione walked up to his side and stopped in her tracks, eyes bulging from the sight before her.

A small clearing opened up in front of them, and in the middle of it, three people were dancing in a circle, holding each other’s hands. The three people were Luna, Ron and Harry. Luna was singing the sad song, and Harry and Ron were muttering and mumbling while they danced.

Suddenly Ron broke free from the circle, yelling, “I’m Babbitty Rabbitty, I hoppety-hop like the hopping pot.” Then he dropped to the ground, rolled on his back, waved his arms and legs in the air and howled.

Harry watched Ron’s impersonation of a dying fly with a dazed expression, and then he ran up to Ron, yelling, “Professor Dumbledore, I’m so sorry that I never asked you where you learned to speak Mermish. Can you forgive me?” He shook Ron's shoulder.

Luna, in the meantime, continued dancing, her arms raised. She was still dancing in a circle around something that was lying on the ground.

Hermione frowned, looked at Snape and asked mentally, “What’s up with them? What do we do?”

“We watch. They don’t seem to realise that we’re here.”

Snape was wrong. Luna suddenly stopped her dance, fixed her gaze on Snape and smiled brightly. “Ooooh,” she whispered.

“Professor Dumbledore, can you forgive me for yelling at you?” Harry whinged, having seen Snape as well and stumbled towards him, arm outstretched. Ron had got up and followed Harry but approached Hermione instead of Snape and yelled at the top of his voice, “Are you Hermione? Can you forgive me? I love Luna. I love Looney. Loopy, loony Luna, Lalala…” and he danced in a circle around Snape and Hermione.

Hermione had had about enough and raised her wand, but Snape stilled her hand with his. Harry and Ron had taken each other by the hand now, singing, “Sorry, so sorry…”

“Hush!” Luna had come close and was staring at Snape. “Be quiet, boys. He’s a shy beast. Don’t scare him away.” She smiled raptly and whispered. “Who’d have thought that they live in the Forbidden Forest? Father will be ecstatic; finally, there’s proof. Here’s a Crumpled-horned Snorcack!” She started to stroke Snape’s nose. He jerked away from her and looked scandalized.

Hermione almost lost it. The look on Snape’s face when Luna had stroked his nose had been hysterical. She suppressed her laughter with all her might, caught his angry gaze and asked mentally, “Shouldn’t we Stun them or something?”

“Clearly, they’ve been cursed. I’d rather not risk using a spell on them without knowing how it will interact with the curse. It seems to be some kind of strong Babbling Curse mixed with a Confundus Charm and who knows what else.”

“It seems rather harmless, though, doesn’t it?”

“Look again,” Snape’s thoughts were urgent. He had raised his wand now and conjured his Patronus, whispering to the silver doe.

Hermione looked at her three friends. Ron had picked up the thing that was lying on the ground, and Hermione recognised it as the locket they had bought from Aberforth Dumbledore. Ron put it around his neck, blinked once, and then attacked Harry, hammering his fists into Harry’s face in an unerring rhythm. Harry covered his head with his arms and sank to his knees, but he didn’t fight back. Luna was sitting on the ground, singing again.

Hermione had had enough. She ran towards Ron and tried to restrain him, getting the odd blow to her face and arms while she did so. Snape hurried to her side and pulled the locket from Ron’s neck. Ron immediately froze and sank to the ground, looking dazed. While Snape stared suspiciously at the locket, Hermione heard a soft popping sound. She whirled towards the noise, wand raised, but relaxed when she saw Fawkes appear in a scarlet-golden flash. Fawkes looked at Harry, Ron and Luna and then settled on Snape’s shoulder, listening to Snape, who whispered a few words to the bird. Fawkes flew to a nearby tree and started to sing.

The song was soothing and uplifting, as always. Hermione felt that all her troubles would be solved somehow and that the day was too beautiful to worry. And indeed, the setting sun transformed the Forbidden Forest into a fairytale forest with shimmering lichens hanging from the old trees like mysterious veils. Fingers of light found their way through the dense wood and bathed patches of grass and undergrowth in a golden light.

Harry, Ron and Luna were dancing again, quietly this time and with dreamy smiles on their faces. As Fawkes' song progressed, one after the other they sank to the ground and fell asleep.

A different kind of sound shook Hermione out of her contented, dreamy state. The sound was caused by Minerva McGonagall, who was swishing past the trees on her broom. A quick glance at Snape told Hermione that he had also felt the calming influence of the Phoenix song; the ghost of a smile brightened his features, and he gallantly helped Minerva off her broom. Snape quickly told her what had happened, and she agreed to take the three confused friends to the school and let them be checked over by Poppy Pomfrey.

Hermione wondered how Minerva would deal with the three of them on her own, and so was relieved when she saw Fawkes approaching Harry, his talons grabbing Harry’s robes. Fawkes could easily carry and Apparate all three friends to the hospital wing at once. She suspected that Snape had told him to stay around and help, but she didn’t have time to watch because Snape had taken her arm and dragged her away from the scene, signalling for her to Disapparate.

“The Office Cave, right away,” Snape snarled when they finally returned to Nan Guthan. His silence during the broom ride and the walk from the Watch Cave to their living quarters had been unpleasant. Something unspoken was looming over them like a threat. Hermione knew what was coming, and she steeled herself for the onslaught of Snape's anger.

“You will now tell me what this is all about.” His nose almost touched hers as he confronted her, pointing one long, pale finger at the locket that lay on the desk, right where he had hurled it after slamming the door shut. Hermione held his gaze and didn’t budge.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, and he breathed heavily. His face was flushed; an angry grimace twisted his features, and yet, Hermione felt nothing of the fear and distress she had felt as a student when she was the target of his ire. She knew that he had every right to be angry. And he would be even angrier after he’d heard the whole story. She would tell him what he wanted to know; she really saw no point in keeping it a secret any longer. However, if she told him, she wanted to do it quietly without being yelled at. Thus, she waited until he’d calmed down a bit.

Snape was clearly making an effort to control himself. He inhaled and exhaled in a slow rhythm, and Hermione could see how his features, his posture, how the whole man turned cold and unmoving, just as she did when she opened the Occlumency vault in her mind to hide all her private thoughts and emotions.

“It’s the Horcrux, isn’t it?” Snape asked calmly, his voice brittle like ice.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “The Horcrux? You know about…?”

“How else would a man who was hit by the Killing Curse manage to come back from the dead? Apart from what’s fantasized about in fairy tales and old legends, there is only one known way to evade certain death, and that method is so evil that it is better to not think, let alone talk, about it. The Dark Lord has repeatedly alluded to the measures he took to preserve his miserable life. I–– In fact, everyone who knows where to look can make the connection. It had to be a Horcrux.”

“I see.” Hermione whispered. “I didn't think that he told…”

“He didn’t. But I can guess. If you want to defend yourself against the Dark Arts, Nightshade, then you need to know what they are, what they can achieve. And that’s how I know. And now I know what Potter’s task was…”

Hermione swallowed and closed her eyes. “Only a small part of it,” she whispered.

“What was that?”

Hermione flinched. “This is very likely one of the Horcruxes. Professor Dumbledore suspected that there were six Horcruxes. With the part that resides in the body, that would mean that the soul was ripped into seven pieces—seven being the number You-Know-Who…”

“SEVEN?”

“That’s what Professor Dumbledore thought, yes. From the way You-Know-Who’s human traits vanished more and more and transformed him into the… thing… he is now, Professor Dumbledore surmised that his soul must have been split many times.” She swallowed and stared desperately into Snape’s eyes. The coldness had disappeared, and all she could see now was horror and hopelessness.

“May all the gods be merciful,” he croaked hoarsely. “And Potter has to…? The three of you…? No one else knows?”

“Luna must have been told, after my, er, death, from the looks of it. And now you. No one else, no.”

“The curse–Albus was trying to destroy a Horcrux when he obtained that injury, wasn’t he?”

“We think so, yes. He told Harry that he’d destroyed the Peverell ring. We also think that the diary from the Chamber of Secrets was a Horcrux.”

Snape looked stunned. “Lucius…”

“Yes. We think that several of the Death Eaters were each given a Horcrux for safekeeping without knowing what they were.”

Snape went very pale. “That’s what you think? How many have you found?”

Hermione looked at him, concerned. “Are you all right, Nundu?”

“What do you expect? I should have known… He didn’t want me to know. I cannot betray what I don’t know.”

“Yes.” Hermione took a deep breath. “Professor Dumbledore wanted to protect you. I’m certain.”

“He wanted to protect the secret. It’s vital that the Dark Lord doesn’t know what Potter is after. Potter…” A cruel sneer replaced the hopeless look he’d shown earlier. "To entrust something so crucial to an idiot like Potter, who can’t keep his most basic emotions in check.” He shook his head and rubbed his temples. “How many did you find?”

Hermione’s knees had gone weak; she sank down on the chair nearest to her. “Not many,” she whispered. “Number one; that was the diary. Harry destroyed it. Number two was the Peverell ring; it belonged to the Gaunts, Riddles relatives, the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Riddle wore the ring for some time, and then he hid it. Professor Dumbledore found it and destroyed it. Third would be the locket, but the one Professor Dumbledore thought was the Horcrux was a fake. It was hidden by Regulus Black, which cost him his life.

“Regulus? That’s what he did? I should have known. I could have helped…” Snape was shaking now. He sank onto a chair opposite Hermione.

“So, now this locket here, it has to be the real one. And apparently it is protected by that crazy curse. The ring was also protected by a curse. And we have no idea how to destroy a Horcrux. From the looks of it, Harry and Ron still don’t know.”

Snape shook his head. “Neither do I. But we shall find out how.”

“We thought that cutting or splitting the vessel would destroy the Horcrux. We don’t know what exactly Professor Dumbledore did to the ring, but it was split, cracked, as if hit by a flash of lightning.”

“Lightning… I wonder…” Snape looked at her in a very odd way. “And Albus… Albus must have tried to cut the ring with Gryffindor’s sword. That’s a very powerful weapon, and it might just have succeeded in destroying the Horcrux. But it couldn't get rid of the curse. Albus must have overlooked something; the curse on the ring nearly killed him. If I hadn’t been there at the time…” He looked at the floor, swallowing.

Hermione studied him thoughtfully. She was moved by Snape’s loyalty towards Dumbledore. “Wasn’t Fawkes able to help?”

“Oh, yes, Fawkes came, but not even Fawkes’ tears managed to counteract the curse that was spreading through Albus' body.”

“Has Fawkes adopted you as his new human now? He seems to look to you for guidance.”

Snape shook his head. “Fawkes is his own agent. But I’m glad that he always seems to be around when he is needed.”

“Just like you are,” Hermione said, smiling, and not able to completely suppress the admiration in her voice.

Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked. But his mood switched again when his glance returned to the locket on the desk. He glared at Hermione. “So you found three Horcruxes? The diary, the ring, the locket. What else do you know?”

“Riddle seems to like important artefacts. Things that once belonged to the founders. The locket was Slytherin’s, too, once. And Riddle killed Hepzibah Smith, who owned Helga Hufflepuff’s cup. I haven’t the slightest idea where the cup could be hidden, but we suspect that it is the fourth Horcrux.”

Snape nodded. He buried his head in his hands and rubbed his face. When he looked up again, Hermione saw how exhausted he looked. “That day in the Forbidden Forest… The tiara you tried to destroy…”

“It’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s tiara. To this day, we aren’t certain if it is a Horcrux or not. We learned some spells from Bill Weasley, and the tiara didn’t show anything malicious, but…”

“At least you learned something useful there…” Snape croaked. “The tiara couldn’t have been a Horcrux. I saw it, as you will remember. I checked it; there were powerful protective spells on it but no Dark Magic.”

“Maybe that’s a disguise?”

“No. The mere concept of a Horcrux is pure evil; it would have shown. Forget the tiara. What else?”

“Nagini. From the way V… Tom Riddle always keeps that snake close to him, Professor Dumbledore suspected that Nagini is another Horcrux.”

“So you still need to find…”

“Something from Ravenclaw or Gryffindor and Hufflepuff’s cup. And we… I… I ran out of ideas. I have no idea where to look anymore.”

Snape had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply. Slowly, he opened them again. They were glittering.

“In that case, I may be of assistance. I know where the Ravenclaw artefact is. I’m the one who was entrusted with the safekeeping of Rowena Ravenclaw’s wand.”

A/N: The story was completely plotted before DH was published. I'm sticking to it, regardless of the canon Horcruxes.