Chapter Twenty Six - The Hell Within Him

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR and/or Daniel Knauf. I do not profit from writing this story.

Author's Notes: Angst. All of it.

-Melusin has been an incredible beta. I send my many, many thanks.

---

Hermione's arm aimlessly shot out to grasp the rim of her seat. After a moment of second-guessing the unpredictable action, she clutched at her queasy stomach instead. The Knight Bus blasted through the streets of London, issuing an insane amount of noise that never failed to shock Hermione, to the complete obliviousness of Muggles. She watched her luggage roll up and down the center aisle, stomach swaying with their rhythm. Hermione almost wished that she had told the Headmaster that she desired nothing more than to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.

If the Order wanted to gather and drink in Sirius' dreary house for foolish enjoyment, she didn't see why she should have to tag along. Hermione simply wanted things to continue as they had. She'd really started to enjoy her time down in the dark, wet dungeons of the castle accompanied by her fearsome Potions master.

Well... her entire time spent there might not have been as wonderful as she wanted to believe it had been. There was the night that the two of them had fought to the point where Severus...

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. She was going, so there was no point in sulking about it. She was also not being entirely honest with herself. Perhaps she would have taken her request of staying at the castle to Dumbledore... if Severus wasn't spending his holiday in Sirius' house as well.

Dumbledore bid him to stay, and Snape was required to obey.

At least she'd have Ron, Harry, and Ginny with her for company...

"Is he talking to you, yet?" Ron whispered in Hermione's ear.

"No," she gulped in response. Hermione knew immediately what...to whom Ron's vague question was referring.

"Wow, you've really ticked Harry off this time."

Hermione frowned, turning to look at the blur of houses and shops passing by her window. She groaned, recalling everything that had been said during her row with Harry in the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione felt no desire to apologize, but she would at least attempt to be civil with Harry, hoping he would extend her the same courtesy. Yes, civil, and heed Severus' warning against butting into other people's personal lives.

Severus was right. If...no, not if...when her relationship with Severus became common knowledge to all, Hermione would never allow Ron or Harry to speak to her the way she had spoken to Harry about Lavender.

Hermione recoiled in her seat, sighing heavily after that last thought. She gritted her teeth in regret, finally feeling a bit of well-deserved shame over her actions. Perhaps Harry did deserve an apology, after all.

It hadn't been a full hour since Hermione and her group had boarded the Knight Bus, but it felt unbearably longer. Finally recognizing the colored haze of houses passing by, Hermione enthusiastically thrust herself out of her seat, only to regret it a second later when the bus came to an abrupt stop. Her luggage hurtled down the center aisle, smashing against the back of her legs.

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione shakily attempted to get off the Knight Bus a few streets from Sirius' house. Walking down the narrow steps with luggage in tow, Hermione was still distracted by her thoughts and worries.

"Wotcher, Hermione!" Tonks familiar greeting barked out of the Auror's mouth in warning. The cage containing Crookshanks slipped out of Hermione's hand, bouncing once on the bus' steps before being caught in Tonks' grip. "Not feeling well?" Tonks asked with a smirk, grabbing Hermione's elbow to support her.

Hermione forced a tight smile. "Just a bit tired still... I mean..."

Tonks turned to Hermione, curious of her meaning before focusing on the fading marks on Hermione's face. Catching Hermione's eye unexpectedly, the Auror snapped her head away with an embarrassed cough.

"Perhaps the Knight Bus wasn't such a good idea," Tonks mumbled.

Hermione sighed, suddenly wary of this coming week.

As they approached the two houses on either side of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, Hermione dreaded the idea of entering. She was slightly prepared to confront Harry, but the idea of sleeping in such close quarters to Sirius made her palms sweat.

Harry had already been escorted before Hermione's bags were even packed. He was always escorted by himself, now, and with enough Aurors at his side to give the impression that he was the leader of a small army.

Hermione morosely expected a similar picture to come true in the near future, given the way this war had been escalating.

Once number twelve squeezed into view, Tonks waited on the threshold, ensuring that the students under her care were safely inside the house before she went about her business.

A wispy, monotone voice barked in the darkness the second the door was closed behind them. "Hello!"

"Merlin's balls!" Ron yelled reflexively. He jumped back at the sight of a petite, shadowed figured standing eerily still in the entrance hall, tripping over the troll's leg by the door. Madam Black's curtains ripped open, filling the house with her high pitched screaming.

"Luna?" Ginny laughed in disbelief.

The Ravenclaw slowly stepped into the light. "She's not very happy to see you, is she?" Luna breathed, her voice miniscule against Madam Black's vicious roar.

Luna silently observed Hermione, Ron, and Ginny struggling to draw the curtains back across the portrait without the slightest inclination to assist them.

Once the house was finally silent, Hermione wasted no time in grabbing Luna by the arm to drag her into the kitchen and demand an explanation.

"Luna," Hermione spoke once they were all seated at the long dinner table. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on a holiday... aren't you?"

"What? No... I mean, yes, I am spending the hols here. What I really meant was, how did you get here?"

"Harry invited me, of course. He said he wanted me to join... I don't remember the name. It was a bit rude of him to ask me questions when I was reading the Muggle dictionary... but his description sounded similar to the DA we had."

"You're joining the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Don't be mean, Ron," Ginny scolded.

"No...I'm not...I'm just... surprised, that's all."

Hermione hissed impatiently, slapping her hand on the surface of the table. Ron quickly understood her familiar demand for silence and snapped his mouth shut. "Have you spoken to the Headmaster about this, Luna?"

"Oh, yes. He's the one who gave me the address, saying that Harry requested I come at once. Will the vampires be attending the party?"

"Party?" Ginny laughed. "Why would vampires come here?"

"Well, there is going to be a party," Hermione corrected Ginny matter-of-factly. "Not only does Dumbledore want the entire Order together for a meeting, but he also wants Mrs. Weasley to plan a Christmas party for us."

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

Oh...shit. As much as Hermione enjoyed being the only person in the room with the most up-to-date information, she needed to remember not to do this when Severus had been the one who'd informed her.

"Er... Sirius told me."

"Of course he did," Ron conceded grudgingly.

Hermione didn't want to be the one to ask this next question, but she knew she wouldn't feel at ease until she did. "Speaking of which, is he here by the way?" The only other person she cared to learn the whereabouts of was Snape. If she had to ask about one of them, at least this group would think she had valid reasons...however false...to ask after the owner of the house.

"No," Luna hummed, "just me and Harry."

Hermione tensed in her seat, sensing a similar reaction from Ginny.

An uncomfortable silence was about to descend onto the small group when sounds of someone entering the house vibrated in the entrance hall.

Mrs. Weasley burst into the kitchen, arms stretched out towards the small gathering. "Oh, my girls," she cooed.

Hermione and Ginny rose from the table to step into the motherly embrace.

"I hope you've been well... Sweet Nimue, Hermione! Your face!"

"Mum," Ginny groaned in warning.

"I mean," Mrs. Weasley corrected shakily. "You...um...look well."

Hermione shook her head. She smiled, hoping it would dismiss Mrs. Weasley's exaggerated concern. "What matters is, I feel well."

Mrs. Weasley hugged her once more. "Yes, yes, dear. Well, the lot of you do look good. I've missed you terribly. I know you've had a horrid trip, so upstairs you go, all of you! Get some rest while I prepare some food."

"Oh, Mum," Ron groaned petulantly, his shoulders slouching against him. "We don't need a nap."

Mrs. Weasley grabbed Ron by ear, lightly pulling him out of his seat. "Don't argue with me! Up to bed."

Luna released a sudden bark of laughter. Ron warily gazed at the Ravenclaw, ears turning red.

"Ah, Hermione, dear, just one thing. I hope you don't mind, but I gave Luna here your bed..."

"I argued, but she yelled at me," Luna interrupted strangely.

Mrs. Weasley naturally puffed up in anger, furious at the lack of respect in Luna's statement, but upon meeting the blonde's misty expression, she rolled her eyes reluctantly instead.

She seemed to have the same reaction to Luna that everyone else did.

"Luna has never stayed here before, so I couldn't give her her own room. Besides, you're the oldest, so I was hoping you wouldn't mind."

Hermione's face suddenly lit in a bright smile. Perfect, she thought. "You don't need to explain. I don't mind at all." Feeling eyes on her, Hermione turned, catching Ron's suspicious and accusing stare.

"Good, Sirius will be delighted. He has exhausted considerable effort cleaning up his mother's master bedroom, just for you."

And with that, Hermione's tiny moment of pleasure vanished.

*** *** ***

"Time for bed," Hermione commanded, snatching Ginny's book out of her hand.

The three girls had been lounging in the dusty Black family library, unproductively attempting to amuse themselves as they passed the time away. There was no denying the shared sense of relief to finally be finished with exams. Even Hermione welcomed the opportunity to take a much-needed break from schoolwork, but there was little to no entertainment to be found here.

Hermione might have been able to enjoy this room for endless hours, but she realized the seriousness of their situation when Ginny and Luna had grudgingly buried their noses in books as well.

Ron and Harry's absence wasn't a coincidence. Harry and Ginny had been avoiding each other at all costs, forcing the group to split in an effort for Ron and Hermione to keep both parties company.

"Did you just tell me to go sleep?" Ginny asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"To our...yours and Luna's room. I think we've inhaled enough dust for one evening. Besides, Luna's been reading that book upside down for the past hour..."

Luna flipped her book to look at the spine, checking to see if Hermione's statement was true.

"... and I have a surprise."

"OH, I was waiting for this!" The Ravenclaw jumped from her seat and nearly ran in her flight from the library, clamoring loudly up the stairs.

"What have the two of you planned?" Ginny was extremely anxious, most likely fearful at the thought of a forced confrontation with Harry.

Hermione was still gazing at Luna's empty seat, openly staggered by Luna's enthusiasm. "We didn't plan anything. This is my surprise. Get up!"

"Then how did she know?"

Hermione shot Ginny an exasperated look.

Ginny rolled her eyes, acknowledging their common thought of, 'How does Luna know half the things she knows?'

When they entered the room, Luna was already sprawled out on her bed, supporting her chin in her hands.

Hermione figured that tonight would be the perfect occasion to do this. Christmas was a few nights away, and number twelve was still relatively empty. After Mrs. Weasley had stuffed them with food, she immediately returned to the Burrow after first giving the group harsh instructions against leaving the house. Order members would soon begin their coming and going, with some of them staying the night now and again. Hermione listened to all this, immediately recognizing that Mrs. Weasley was alluding to Sirius, Lupin...and Snape.

Thankfully, none of them had arrived, yet. It was just a house full of students who were determined to get up to no good.

Hermione reached behind Ginny's four-poster and pulled out a plain brown sack she had hidden there while everyone was distracted with unpacking their bags.

Hermione reached in and, to the girls' amazement, pulled out a wine bottle.

"You brought booze!" Ginny gasped.

"Shhh!" Hermione eyed the door, snorting when she realized there was no one here to yell at them. She kicked off her shoes and joined Luna on the bed. "Close your mouth and join us. We're having a much-needed 'girls' night'."

Ginny's shock was entirely justified. This seemed extremely out of character for someone like Hermione, who always appeared very prim and proper. Hermione actually had a few bottles stashed away but not for these purposes. She'd started her collection during her stay in the dungeons two weeks previously. In a piqued fit against Severus' refusal to give her clothes, Hermione had snuck into his wine cabinet while he had been in class. She hadn't taken the bottles so she could drink them herself. Part of this was revenge, but a stronger force in Hermione hated how much Severus drank.

And the type of man he was when intoxicated.

The less alcohol he had readily available, the better. Or at least that was what Hermione was trying to convince herself.

This had been a last minute idea. After everything that had happened between Hermione and Harry in the common room and the scandalous exposure of what Ginny had been keeping on her shoulders, Hermione believed they deserved it.

Before long, Hermione's plan appeared to have succeeded. Thoughts no longer on the war and other solemn concerns, the girls relaxed on Luna's bed and discussed the most ridiculous topics that popped into their minds.

"Dammit!" Ginny swore at her clumsiness. She pulled the wine bottle from her lips before completely swallowing the swig. Dark, purple drops dribbled down her chin, staining the duvet.

Ginny snorted at some private thought before her expression went serious. "Would you ever do it with an older man?"

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped, unsuccessful in keeping herself from snickering.

Luna released a quick burst of laughter.

"That is totally inappropriate," Hermione forced herself to say between laughs. A part of Hermione was being utterly open. Sometimes it was hard for Hermione to remember that these girls were only a year behind her. She also hadn't yet made the connection that she could answer Ginny's hypothetical question with a definite 'yes'.

"Who, then?" Ginny continued.

All three girls covered their mouths and giggled until sighs and silence calmed them.

"I had the hots for Remus when he was Professor Lupin," Ginny admitted, her face blazing scarlet.

"You weren't even twelve, then!"

"Yes, I was! And don't act so superior. When you were twelve, you were drooling over Lockhart!"

"Ugh!" Hermione screamed into her hands. "Don't remind me! But to be fair, he wouldn't have been so... appealing if he hadn't written those books."

Ginny smiled knowingly. "He didn't write those books..."

"You know what I mean!" It was Hermione's turn to blush. "I feel sick when I remember how I acted in his classes."

"Well, I congratulate you, Hermione. I hear your poker face in Defence class is spot on." Ginny made a move to stand on the bed and bow, but Hermione grabbed her ankle in a huff. The red-head toppled over, dropping the wine bottle with another curse.

Luna caught the bottle easily. She swallowed a few large gulps and wiped her mouth with her own pillow. "Professor Binns..." Luna sighed dreamily.

Ginny and Hermione's mock cat-fight promptly cut off.

"Luna... Professor Binns is a ghost." Hermione's tone was humorless.

"Exactly. Imagine how old he must be... all that he has seen... And it's so typical of me to desire the unattainable." Luna sighed dreamily, falling back against the bed.

Ginny cleared her throat uncomfortably.

Luna sat back up with a snap. "Can ghosts take their clothes off?" she asked suddenly.

Hermione and Ginny returned to their fit of laughter.

*** *** ***

An alley cat screeched in the distance, its growl echoing passed their miserable excuse of an hotel window. Collected dustbins upturned in a crash. Pansy reacted to the noise by pushing Remus back onto the bed with an uneasy whimper into his bare chest. The shabby bed whined under their weight.

Remus humored her, allowing the two of them a few more minutes before he would attempt to leave once more.

"You don't have to go."

"We both have to." Remus sensed her exhaustion and believed a time-consuming lecture was unnecessary.

Pansy sighed into his chest. "Right." She possessed the willful stubbornness to put up a fight, but Pansy decided it was a lost cause. If she hadn't needed to make an appearance at home, she would have made more of an effort to keep Remus in their hotel room at least one more night.

"I want to be with you longer, yes... but I don't like the idea of you being in the company of the Order for so long."

He stiffened under her. "Why not?"

"You're not going to... say anything... right, Remus?"

He swallowed hard. Carefully gliding his hands up her back, Remus rolled her off him. "Don't start this again."

Before he was able to make a full escape, Pansy jumped onto her knees, grabbing him by his tattered robes. "I know you... You haven't done anything wrong!"

Pansy's anxiety was warranted. These past couple of days she had sensed an escalation of guilt in Remus over the difficult choice he had made in the Forbidden Forest.

The choice of doing nothing when he had learned that Hermione had been captured.

A heavy weight had certainly been released for the both of them when news of Hermione's rescue had reached their ears. She'd been found relatively unharmed...considering where she had been, that is.

But Snape had been the one to bring her back to Hogwarts, and it shamed him.

Remus didn't have anything against Snape, really. He didn't like him, but that didn't automatically mean he had to hate him, either.

Remus pitied the bastard, actually. Regardless of the hell Remus had lived through, he was morbidly comforted at the thought that he hadn't been dealt the worse hand in life.

But typical to his nature, he couldn't stop second-guessing his actions, especially his intentions behind the actions. He felt like a coward.

And worst of all, he felt like a failure. At least Snape had something to show for his involvement in the Order.

Pansy might not have known all this, but she feared correctly that he would do something senseless...like apologizing...and risk revealing their relationship.

It was already unpleasant enough that Hermione knew.

"Don't speak of it to her," she begged. The reasons for her trepidation were written on his face.

Because Hermione knew about their relationship, it was be so like Remus to take advantage of the opening to unburden his conscience.

Remus silently pulled away from her. Gathering his things, he quickly pecked her on the lips with a whispered, "I love you," without acknowledging...or denying...her requests.

*** *** ***

Harry was grateful when Ron finally left him alone to go to bed. He had appreciated Ron's effort to keep him company, but Harry wasn't in the mood to be sociable. It hadn't been Harry's intention to drag Ron into his melancholy, but most likely he had. He'd appeared just as anxious to flee the kitchen as Harry'd been to be alone.

It had been very difficult at school...having Ginny so near.

But here...

There was limitless privacy in this house, and it made Harry remember the stolen minutes they had shared in the darkness of these rooms. Bodies pressed tight against each other, whispering...

He cringed, chastising himself. Thoughts like this were a betrayal of Lavender. It disturbed Harry that he had to continually force himself not to imagine the 'what-ifs' he had lost.

For there had been a time when he had desperately missed Ginny only in the moment. Despite how much he had craved to be at her side the second her face entered his thoughts, Harry calmed himself with the remembrance that it would only be a matter of time before they could be together again. These were the thoughts that had kept Harry sane those first few months after he had tried to cut all ties from her.

Not now, he would chant whenever he caught the intoxicating scent of her shampoo as she passed by. Later, Harry groaned when he gazed too long at the sway of her hips when she walked.

It had tortured him to stay away when he had first broken things off, but Harry knew it was necessary. Having Ron and Hermione tailing him into battle was already distressing enough. But at least he could comfort himself with the knowledge that they had chosen this war-filled existence from the moment they'd decided to befriend 'The-Boy-Who-Lived.' It wasn't as if Harry had surprised them one random day with the knowledge that he was Voldemort's life-long enemy.

They knew that history even before Harry himself did.

Ginny knew all this as well, but her situation was different....

Harry had been the one to selfishly pursue her last year. And why? Because he ultimately recognized the type of irresistible young woman she had become...and only after she had finally reconciled herself to never attaining him. Harry had grown used to ignoring the indiscriminate girls flinging themselves at him merely because of his notoriety. He had inattentively included Ginny's childish crush into the mix.

Then Ginny grew up, and her timid reactions along with her immature crush melted away.

She had become a catch in Harry's mind.

And in typical boy fashion, Harry hadn't wanted her until she had begun to date someone else.

So Harry pursued her. Loved her. Worst of all, he had encouraged her to love him. It was predictable that Ginny's passions would inspire her to want to fight along side him. Harry was just too stupid...too selfish...to let that stop him from starting the relationship.

Just when the very idea of being apart from Ginny became almost too much to bear, Harry had ended it for her own protection, stubbornly ignoring her pleas and cries. She didn't have a choice in the break-up.

So, certainly she should have a choice in deciding to wait for him.

Harry knew she was justified, but a part of him begrudged Ginny for refusing to wait. She had shown all the signs of heartbreak, but had been quick to date when the new year had begun. No doubt it was the only way she could attempt to get over him.

Gritting his teeth, Harry cursed under his breath. After pulling his hands roughly through his hair, he punched both of his fists into the sides of his armchair. He needed to stop thinking things like this. Maybe he'd had a chance to win Ginny back...but that was all in the past, now.

Harry was with Lavender now, so he needed to stop thinking of what could have been. Ginny was lost to him forever, and he needed to learn to love another.

The door groaned loudly behind Harry, interrupting his self-centered thoughts. He tensed at the sound of someone stumbling clumsily into the kitchen. Uneven footsteps padded on the flagstones until they were stopped by the sound of a stool scraping. The scraping was proceeded by a mumbled, "Blast!"

Harry's heart jumped into his throat, blood rushing to his ears. It seemed that despite his efforts to avoid Ginny, she had managed to corner him in the worst way.

Alone...and in the dark.

Harry turned, peeking over his shoulder and around the armchair to see if he'd remained unnoticed beside the hearth. Unfortunately, he was fully lit by the fire, and Ginny's face snapped up at the change in shadows.

Her eyes narrowed heartlessly.

Without saying a word, she turned her back to him, rummaging through the cupboards in search of whatever she had come here for.

Harry struggled to ignore her huffs and the ruckus of cupboard doors slamming a bit too loudly. But it was no use. He felt like a coward just sitting there pathetically ignoring her like a child.

Feeling slightly drained, he made as much noise as possible in getting up from his seat, warning her of his determined stride across the kitchen. He didn't look up until he'd braced himself against the counter that separated them.

Ginny, however, wasn't above the silent treatment. Harry was an arm's reach away, but she kept her attention focused on struggling to pull a cork out of the green vial in her hands.

"I'm... so sorry." Not knowing what else to say, Harry decided to admit to the first thing on his mind. Remembering Luna's multiple warnings...which he had thoughtlessly ignored...Harry continued, mortified at the cracking in his voice. "I never wanted to hurt you. The very idea that I could kills..."

Ginny slammed her hands down on the counter with an angry scream. She cried out again when broken glass from the forgotten vial cut into her palm.

Harry naturally extended his arms to help her.

"Why her?" Ginny recoiled away from his concern. Searching for her wand, Ginny refused to meet his eye as she went about clearing the broken glass. "You couldn't even stay with me, but you can marry her?"

Harry knew that she was angry with him for giving Lavender what he had denied her.

The future.

But there was so much more to it than that. It wasn't about preference, or even desire anymore.

"She's pregnant, Ginny..."

"Ginevra!" Ginny swiped her wand through the air, eyes blazing. Her lower lip trembled, and in her attempt to control it, fury took control. She shakily pointed her wand under his chin. "You call me Ginevra." She punctuated her demand by stabbing him in the throat.

Harry froze, afraid of her penchant for hexes. He couldn't believe how much Ginny's actions were hurting him, but then he suddenly realized he had no right to verbalize that to her.

"You left me, Harry. With some pathetic excuse of not wanting some lovesick girlfriend to follow you blindly into battle..."

"It wasn't an excuse! Do you honestly think Lavender would stand beside me against Voldemort?"

"NO, I DON'T! So I ask again, why would you want to be with her when I would gladly die for you?"

"Because I don't want you to die, DAMMIT!"

Ginny jumped at his reaction, finally lowering her wand.

Feeling like he had revealed far too much, Harry succumbed to his childish desire of kicking the counter. "I didn't plan this. I don't want... What I do want is to be responsible for my own mistakes."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it." She bustled away from him, washing her injured hand in the sink. "Gods, I am such an idiot. You'd think, after all you have put me through, after this that I would finally stop loving you and hate you the way I should... the way I want to..."

"Please stop." Harry knew he didn't have the self-control to hear such things without reacting.

"Oh, I intend to."

Harry heard the finality in her voice, and it sent a burning shock down his back. She whirled towards the exit. Her face showed her dismay, her anguish, but also her determination to finally walk away...out of his life...and never look back.

Harry would chastise himself the next morning, and many mornings after, regretting the move he was about to make. But it was already apparent that no matter how noble or good intentioned he tried to be, ultimately he always acted brashly.

He was disgustingly selfish.

Harry lunged across the kitchen before Ginny was able to reach the door. He didn't give her a chance to argue or even consent. But Harry yanked Ginny by her injured hand, forcing her to cry out.

Searching her face, Harry wanted nothing more than to make the look of resentment directed at him go away. He couldn't stand the idea of her feeling any emotion resembling that. No, not about him. Inhaling sharply, Harry slid his hand behind her neck and harshly pressed his lips to her resisting mouth.

Ginny moaned but quickly grew angry at her reaction...and even more so at his.

This felt far more natural than it should. Harry allowed his body to press against her.

When Ginny was able to struggle a fraction of space between them, she yanked her hand out of his hold. Her balled, bloodied fist socked him clear across the jaw.

Harry was so staggered by her action and the pain behind his eyes that he fell back, faltering until he clutched at a stool to steady himself.

"You... arsehole," Ginny hissed at his back.

He clutched his face, his vision and thoughts dazed by the blow. By the time Harry was capable of standing up straight to turn around, Ginny was already gone.

*** *** ***

Nothing he did was ever enough.

Snape stood before the door to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Hand clenched on the doorknob, Snape pressed his forehead against the knocker rather than open it. He stared at the floor, greasy hair curtaining both sides of his face, spreading an added veil of black to the night surrounding him. He loathed the idea of entering this pit of hell again.

No... nothing, Snape said to himself again. And it wasn't self-pity he felt as he thought this. His bones ached with a deep seeded irritation towards all who called this place a haven.

If only he could remain a ghost among them. It was one thing that he felt total apathy to the lot of them, so the least they could all do was extend him the same courtesy.

It would be another thing if they all hated him. One blessed thing. And it was something else entirely if they had unconditionally trusted him. Snape wouldn't mind if he fell into either one of those groups...that way everyone would leave him the bloody hell alone.

Nothing he did for Dumbledore or the Dark Lord satisfied either of his masters...nor their followers. He was too sinister for the Order and far too cautious for the Death Eaters.

Snape banged his head against the door, chuckling grimly. His careful existence in both of these worlds was exactly what he had hoped to achieve.

The perfect spy.

But Snape was recognizing that there was a new emotion...one he had never felt before...progressively developing within him. It grew parallel to the quantity of planning and deception in his life, deception which incessantly crawled towards a never ending peak. For the past twenty years, his duties had constantly escalated.

Yet, it all had to end... someday. Which found Severus eagerly anticipating the inevitable fall upon reaching his unforeseen peak.

He tried to imagine where he might end up after the fall...and couldn't find an emotional response.

Snape decided to gladly focus on his anticipation for the fall again.

Turning the doorknob, Snape's lips curled over his gnashed teeth. He suppressed the snarl he was longing to release, instead releasing his frustration on the door by kicking it closed with the heel of his boot.

Madam Black's portrait did not scream at his disturbance. Notwithstanding the Order's efforts, Snape remained the only wizard here who actually did know the spells...Dark spells, that is...which would pry her frame from the wall. He had elatedly demonstrated this to her one day. Since then, the old crone had refrained from shouting at him, so he left her hanging to irritate all but him.

He paused in the entrance hall, listening for any sounds in the house. Snape exhaled at the options before him. Crawl up the stairs to sleep in one of Black's rooms or trudge into the kitchen with the hope that it might be empty?

Snape admitted to himself that he was feeling particularly thirsty. He hadn't been able to stock the cabinet in his temporary bedroom...yet.

Kitchen it was, then.

He silently glided down the narrow hallway. Upon reaching the door, Snape rolled his eyes. Not until he was moments from entering the kitchen did he notice the presence of a fire within.

Fearsome sneer already prepared, Snape added an exaggerated hiss of disdain, plowing through the door in his billowing splendor.

"Good morning, Professor," sang a feminine voice beside the stove.

Oh, for the love of...

Good morning, indeed. It was nearly five, and she should have been asleep.

As if answering his unspoken question, Hermione responded, "Sorry to be in your way, sir. I...couldn't go back to sleep."

Snape grunted in response. Walking silently behind her, Snape threw open one of the magically age-restricted cupboards and snatched a bottle of firewhisky. Sensing her unnerving presence behind him, Snape scowled, darting around the counter to sit as far away from her as possible.

He needed to get away from Hermione or he would be tempted into making it very clear that he was angry to see her.

Hermione continued about her business preparing food, facing away from him. Snape took the opportunity to continue glaring at her back. He sloppily filled his tumbler, tossing the fiery liquid down his throat. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Snape leered as his eyes drifted lower. Her dressing gown looked very attractive on her...and it irritated him. He couldn't help but wonder what she was wearing underneath.

Snape tossed back more alcohol. Tilting his head to the side, he scowled at her bare feet through his greasy hair.

If he could imagine such things, then no doubt other men could as well.

One in particular came to mind. His hand clenched around the bottle at the thought.

Snape was also annoyed with her for not being more cautious...she was putting herself in a situation to be easily happened upon by Black. Here, in the kitchen, and alone.

He swore under his breath, relaxing slightly on his forearms. Snape appreciated that wasn't entirely... fair... and decided not hold his last opinion against her. What was she to do? Cower behind a locked bedroom door every minute she was awake?

Absolutely not.

The last thing Snape wanted was for Hermione to be put in a situation that would force her to interact with Black. However, he was more averse to the idea of her playing the role of a victim without putting up a good fight.

Snape snapped out of his musings, glancing warily out of the corner of his eye as Hermione dragged one of the stools over. She settled it on the floor on the opposite side of the counter... directly across from him. Without glancing in his direction for a sign of approval, she placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of herself...and settled an additional plate of food in front of him.

He grimaced. "What is this?"

Hermione seemed to sense his mood and looked at him with delicate humor in her eyes. "It's food, Professor. Eggs, to be precise."

"Impertinent," Snape muttered under his breath. "We both can see that these are eggs, Miss Granger. What are they doing in front of me?"

"It would have been very rude of me to eat in front of you without offering, sir. But please don't take it personally. I intentionally made extra in case my Kneazle decided to fight for his share."

Upon hearing himself mentioned in the conversation, Crookshanks jumped onto the counter. He seated himself as far away from the two humans as possible, glaring hateful at the man who dared to insult his food.

Severus looked disgusted at the presence of the cat. "That is terribly unsanitary."

Hermione smiled, shoulders shaking slightly as she tried to suppress a laugh.

"He just wants a snack... no different than you." Hermione hadn't meant to spit out that last part. She couldn't help eyeing the glass in Snape's hand disdainfully, either.

"Manners, Miss Granger," Snape hissed, voice full of venom. Reactions like that were out of the question while they both were in this house. Her every move needed to be thought out with the anticipation that anyone could be eavesdropping.

Behavior like serving him a plate of eggs.

"I apologize, sir. But there is nothing disrespectful about offering you food, so you might as well eat it... Professor," Hermione responded to his unspoken reprimand. "Please, after all that you have done for my health, and my... escape... any little act of kindness on my part is of no consequence."

Hermione caught Snape's eye... and grinned widely at him.

Severus released a loud growl of foreboding, pinching the bridge between his brows. His reaction wasn't exaggerated, either. He knew what she was trying to tell him...the decision she had obviously made.

Hermione had resolved to be nice to him in front of the others. And no one would think anything of it, considering he had supposedly been taking care of her.

The thought was horrifying. He wanted to yell at her but didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting under his skin.

Eyes still closed, Snape lowered his hand onto the counter, blindly reaching for his tumbler. His fingers curled around what felt like curly hair instead.

His eyes flew open, shocked at the sight of Hermione leaning over the counter, her face very close to his own.

Before Snape could scold her for her senseless act, Hermione pressed her warm lips to his cheek.

Snape's natural reaction was to inhale and send a searching look at the kitchen door.

"Sit back," he hissed under his breath.

"Everyone's asleep," she responded just as quietly. Her lips brushed against the stubble of his upper lip as she spoke. The hairs on the back of Severus' neck rose for a multitude of reasons.

The heat of her face and breath burned his chilled skin.

Black pupils dilated with thinly controlled fury widened dangerously. "Now."

Hermione gave him one quick peck before leaning into her chair and tucking into her meal. The appearance of tranquil indifference she exuded was slightly impressive. She didn't look like a student who had just snogged her unwilling professor over a plate of eggs and toast.

Shaking his head, Snape snorted and reached for the bottle of firewhisky. Smirking, he noticed Hermione stiffen as he filled the crystal tumbler once more.

The bottle almost toppled when he rested it on the counter with more force than necessary. Snape frowned, searching her face.

What is this?

It took him a moment to comprehend that she was upset. Her eyes were pink and puffy. But he hadn't even said anything hurtful...yet.

Snape knew he was a bastard to her at times, but a strange burning sensation filled him at the idea of someone else hurting her. A significant component of that originated from possessiveness, he knew. But another part... It fumed at the idea that anyone else could have such an effect on her emotions.

It felt absurdly disgusting for him to admit that he very much reveled in the idea that he...and only he...could have such a strong position in her... life... where hurt and sorrow came into play at times.

But if anyone else...

That was when he noticed the piece of crumbled-up parchment sticking out of her pocket.

It bore the Hogwarts seal.

Snape lunged over the counter. His tumbler flew out of his hand, spraying that hideous cat with the fiery alcohol. Hermione startled at his movement and the violent hissing of her Kneazle. Only too late did she realize that Snape had snatched the letter from her dressing gown.

Hermione gasped and made a move to snatch it back. "Please don't!"

Severus' jaw clenched. That was exactly the type of reaction he did not want to see.

He raised the letter out of her reach, but she only lunged further, her arm failing to take it out of his hand. Snape's mouth curled into a sneer. His free arm shot out, grabbing Hermione by the wrist with a pincer grip.

Snape yanked on her arm to bring her face closer to his.

She visibly tensed at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

"Keeping secrets from me, then?"

"When I can," she snapped.

"What did you say?"

Hermione whispered in a pained tone. "You don't want to read that..."

Like hell, I don't, Severus thought.

Snape released her hand, turning a loathsome gaze at the parchment in his hands.

Ignoring Hermione's sigh of apprehension, he read:

Dear Miss Granger,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have been indisposed as of late, so I apologize in not personally checking up on you after your ordeal. I had no doubt that you were in competent hands and well out of danger. I am also sending this note as a friendly reminder that although classes have ended and you are no longer within Hogwarts' walls, I still expect you to continue working on the Advanced N.E.W.T experiment that I assigned you at the beginning of the year. It appears you have been ignoring it as of late, and your specimens are beginning to wither. You are an incredibly bright and gifted student, so I have no doubt that you will use this break from classes to the best advantage.

Best of luck,

Headmaster Dumbledore.

All Snape could see was red.

Blood red.

He snarled, his fist crushing the parchment into pulp. Fighting to remain silent, his nerves tensed in response, forcing his breathing to escalate.

Snape silently glared at Hermione, making it clear that he knew exactly what Albus truly meant by his vague instruction.

Hermione dropped her forehead into her hands. "Don't make this harder for me than it already is." She extended her hand, not looking at him as she waited for him to put the letter into her palm.

Swallowing, Snape reached for his wand instead. With a subtle snap, his wand was put away while the parchment soared in the air and across the kitchen. It landed in the hearth and ignited into a vigorous fire not a second later.

Hermione merely sighed in response. "I told you you didn't want to read it."

"Do you think this is funny?"

Just then, as if this situation couldn't get any worse, the kitchen door swung open. Hermione and Severus had been too distracted in their discussion to notice the steady footsteps of someone approaching them from the entrance hall.

Sirius stepped into the kitchen, his expression brightening at the sight of Hermione.

"Hermione!" Sirius suddenly noticed Snape, as well the tense electricity in the air. "Are you all right?"

Hermione did not bother to mask her exasperation. "Yes, Professor Black."

"Well, um, now that you're here, I can ask, how do you like the room I prepared for you?"

Hermione noticed Severus' body tense at this. She cringed.

"It's adequate... for a gloomy old room, that is. But thank you, Professor."

Sirius laughed, not hiding his pointed glance at Snape. "You're not in school, so please try to get comfortable in my home. And make me comfortable as well by forgetting all that 'professor' nonsense."

Hermione swallowed visibly. Casually wiping the tips of her fingers across her hairline, she met Snape's narrowed eyes and grimaced guiltily.

"If you insist... Sirius."

Snape thrust himself away from the counter. He stormed through the kitchen door in the same manner...and with the same feeling...in which he had entered.

---

Author's Notes: :Sigh: It hasn't been a full twenty-four hours yet at number twelve and things don't look very... optimistic. Much more to come. It was enjoyable to write but this is all filler! Harry's and Sirius' stories are very much due.

-I send my gratitude to my beta, melusin, for her thorough and fast work.

-Chapter title taken from John Milton's Paradise Lost, Book iv. Line 20.

-Next up: Life at number twelve is filled with twists and turns for its inhabitants. Hermione and Harry attempt to patch things up, and learn a few interesting things along the way. Old habits die hard, and Hermione is still determined to prove a few things to Snape. How will he react?