Sixteen

Many thanks to my beta, Soul Bound.

Hermione looked up when a group of professors, clutching rolls of parchments to their chests, burst loudly into the staff room. The industrious silence that had enveloped Hogwarts had broken. There were shrieks of laughter from students pouring energetically out of their morning classes before the door swung shut. It must be lunchtime already, the tired witch thought resignedly; the same parchment she had been attempting to read all morning was still in front of her...McGonagall was not getting value for money from her today. The professors milled about, dumping marking and quills on nearby tables, chucking hats onto chairs as they stretched and yawned after a morning teaching. They only had a few minutes before they were due down at the Great Hall for lunch.

Hermione rubbed her face wearily under her hat, trying to fight the malaise she had had all morning, and was thinking about heading up to her room for some lunch when the staff room went deadly silent. Snape swept through the door. Tension and fear was instantly palpable in the room. The professors shifted nervously and eyed him uneasily. Should she acknowledge him? But Hermione needn't have wondered as the dark wizard moved smoothly over to her desk, his eyes taking in the occupants of the room with a flick of cool disdain.

'Miss Granger, if I may have a word.' He indicated for her to follow him.

Startled, Hermione scrapped back the chair and moved around the desk; she hated all the eyes on her as she followed him out the door. Why was Snape doing this? She heard the volume go up as the door shut. The gossip would be running hot this afternoon.

'We can talk in my office,' he stated, looking down at her through his oily hair.

Hermione nodded, pulling her cloak firmly around her against the cold drafts in the corridor. Snape walked beside her, not charging ahead at his normal fast pace. No doubt he would be feeling weary today as well, Hermione realized.

Hermione still felt acutely embarrassed about last night. She winced at how she'd reacted when Snape told her he was being slowly killed with poison. Plunging herself back into known danger, requiring Snape to haul her back out again, was not the expected response of a highly trained initiate. Looking back though, it was dreamlike and strange. The witch vaguely remembered stirring, seeing low embers in the fireplace and Snape beside her, doing up the buttons on his shirt, his chest a ghostly white in the low light. The rug was warm under her, and somehow there was a heavy blanket over them.

Noticing she was awake, Snape had leaned across and gently stroked her cheek. 'My lady, you must return to your rooms. Dawn will be breaking soon.'

Hermione nodded, yawning and slowly stretching. Snape got up, buttoning his trousers as he moved across the dark room. The witch found and pulled on her shirt and trousers under the blanket; the air had a pre-dawn chill to it despite the low fire. Snape soon came back, fully dressed in his black robes and holding her hat and cloak. Hermione got unsteadily to her feet, shivering in the cold, and tugged on her boots. Snape stepped close to her, draping her cloak over her shoulders and deftly doing up her buttons. He always seemed taller and more slender close up. The wizard placed her hat on her head, looked at her for moment, and then leaned forward to tuck a loose coil of hair under it. Hermione smiled. Snape wordlessly held out his arm in a courtly manner, and Hermione tucked hers through it, feeling the coarse material of his cloak. He intertwined his warm fingers in hers as he escorted her silently to her rooms through dim, unrecognizable corridors. Hermione fell into bed exhausted the moment she got back.

The dungeons were empty with all students now at the Great Hall. Snape unwarded his office and gestured her through, shutting the door firmly behind her.

'Please have a seat.'

Hermione glanced about his dim office; it still had odd things in jars on shelves lining the walls, a workbench, and a small fire burning in the fireplace. She spotted his private store cupboard guiltily and looked up at Snape, who unfortunately met her eye and merely shook his head infinitesimally. The witch sat down hastily on the chair in front of his desk, keeping her eyes firmly in front of her. Snape, rather than sitting behind his desk, drew the other chair closer and sat down smoothly next to her. His eyes were watching her sharply.

'That bold move seemed more Gryffindor than Slytherin, my friend,' Hermione commented wryly in order to break the uncomfortable silence.

Snape snorted. 'Yes, it does appear that way, my lady. But a Slytherin is never what he seems...you know that.' His face became serious. 'The reason for my Gryffindor-like actions is I just received information confirming the Dark Lord has just made seven successful attacks on Order members and known supporters.'

Hermione gave a startled gasp...this was not what she'd been expecting.

'The Headmistress will be receiving the information shortly.'

'God, that's terrible!'

'It is. The Order was already in a seriously weakened position, so the implications of these attacks are dire,' Snape gravely pointed out.

'When did they happen?'

'Today.'

'None last night?'

Snape shook his head.

'Do you think it has anything to do with what happened last night?' Hermione asked, nervously rubbing her hands together.

'Yes, I am sure they are related. That is why I wanted to talk to you urgently.' The wizard stood fluidly and walked around his desk.

'I hadn't realized the Order was in such a precarious position.' Hermione's eyes watched him as he placed a food basket on the desk in front of her. How could Snape even consider eating at a time like this?

'The Headmistress has wisely chosen to underplay it, but I believe it is reaching a critical point. For a long time there has been an impasse, but that is now changing.'

Snape arranged the pickles, preserved meats, cheeses and unleavened bread on a communal platter between them.

'Please, my lady, eat with me. We were unable to celebrate the feast last night, so this hurried lunch will have to suffice. I have to teach this afternoon.'

Hermione nodded, her mouth watering. She hadn't realized how hungry she was, but then again, she hadn't eaten anything since yesterday lunchtime. The witch picked up the bread, broke it in half and handed a piece to Snape, who accepted it with a nod.

'Did the Order have any idea these attacks had been planned?' Hermione asked between bites. Hermione looked at Snape, who was concentrating on scooping the pickle up with the bread and popping it into his mouth. He did everything with such deft, fluid movements.

Snape shook his head. 'The Dark Lord purposely targeted Mr. Weasley...without him the Order is blind. The Dark Lord knows he is able to press forward his advantage now.'

Hermione clenched her good hand into a fist...it was all too soon, and she wasn't confident of the patterns. But if she didn't act, the situation could only get worse. Voldemort would kill more innocent people like Ron, and more lives would be filled with the grief of unfulfilled potentials. Anger, frustration and fear boiled inside her. Unsure what to do, but needing to do something, Hermione leapt to her feet and paced over to the fireplace, her cloak swirling about her ankles. She felt Snape's eyes follow her as she paced agitatedly to his worktable, absently noting wormwood ready to be added to the bubbling potion. Hermione hated being indecisive, but every thread she looked down ended in disaster.

'What is it, my lady?'

Hermione rubbed her face irritably and stalked back to sit down. 'By Voldemort attempting to capture me as he did, he sent out a ripple. What I need to do is alter that ripple so it moves in our favour. Harry's power needs to be actualized, but it seems I am limited in the ways it can be done.'

'The Order needs to play all its cards now if it is to succeed. That is why I informed you right away.' Snape's eyes were watching her closely.

Irritated by her hat, she pulled it off and chucked it down next to her. Digging in her pockets, she found a clip and quickly tied her hair into a messy bun. Now she could think through this plight. 'I and mine are now part of that ripple, but it is not yet a pattern. Voldemort has angered him.'

'I could also feel his anger at the Dark Lord last night. I also felt his fear and deep affection for you,' said Snape quietly, and he stopped eating.

It was strange hearing somebody else talk of him, and she found it oddly reassuring. Hermione looked down at the crusty bread in her hand. 'I long to be with him always, my friend.'

'I could sense that too, my lady, but I am pleased when he returns you to us.'

'Last night, Voldemort revealed more than he knew by his actions. He thought he would either have me as his or that I would die. Voldemort has mastered several areas of Southern magic, hmmm...'

Snape paused mid-bite, his eyes widening. 'You could have died? I had not realized. I understood there was danger, and I knew I must act, but I did not know the desperateness of the situation. The Dark Lord wanted you dead so that the Order could not use you,' Snape quickly worked out, his fingers drumming a furious beat against the plate.

'My way back was unknown to me...this is always my biggest danger...and Voldemort knew that. But Voldemort is unwise to up against mine. I must think this through. There are several dynamics...Voldemort being one of them...that cause huge difficulties and prevents a customary approach to returning Harry's power. But what is most important is that Voldemort must not know what we are doing...he must not know of Harry's return to power.'

Snape poured a glass of water and passed it to her. Hermione looked at its silvery, reflective light; she needed to think carefully. 'Last night Voldemort revealed to us what Southern magic he knows, but more importantly what Southern magic he does not know. This is what I must exploit. He has given me the answers...but where are they?'

Hermione, pondering, looked up at the dark wizard across from her, who was taking a sip of the silvery water, holding the glass elegantly. 'That's it! Water into Fire!' Then Hermione realized with a thud what the practical applications of that type of magic meant.

'What?' Snape blinked in surprise.

'Oh, shit, shit, shit!' she swore furiously in English. How the hell was she supposed to do this? Hermione rubbed her face with her hands. This was not going to be easy.

Snape was looking at her puzzled, waiting for an explanation.

Hermione breathed in trying to find the words. 'Um... he did show me the way last night. I see it now. You remember how we were talking about Harry last night?'

'Yes, about how Harry had suppressed his water element. I take it this is all about trying to realign his elements so that he can reach his full power.' Snape nodded, his eyes fixed on her.

'Ah... yes... So what happens is Harry needs to be reintroduced to the water element again so he learns not to fear it...but Voldemort cannot know we are doing this.'

'That makes sense. How do you do that?'

Hermione's head started to thump. 'Through you.'

'Me? Do you want me to brew a potion?' Snape stared at her.

Hermione shook her head, then stopped. 'Well, actually, yes, but that's not all.'

'Go on.' Snape's face became impassive.

'You are the person who has the most powerful water element I know, besides Voldemort, so you have to be the one to reintroduce him to his water element, but there is only one way.'

'Go on,' he repeated in icy tones.

'It's the same ancient type of magic you used last night...Voldemort doesn't know this magic; that's why I survived...and only the most ancient of magic is available for us to use now.' Hermione looked up and saw Snape's posture tense. 'You are the only one who is able to achieve change in Harry. It is the reason he hates you so much, which will make this difficult. Unlike the other witches and wizards here, Harry is Muggle-raised and isn't reacting to our magic. It is the strength of your water element he hates. In a sense you were right when you said you thought Harry had transferred his hate of Voldemort onto you.'

Snape was still for a long moment. Hermione dropped her eyes and examined her ragged bandage, allowing him time, but half expecting an explosion of anger. Her heart was beating rapidly. Snape's office had a cacophony of smells and odors to it...but it didn't smell unpleasant...interesting, yes, but not repellent. She looked up again when she heard Snape standing and watched him walk behind his desk...away from her. He turned his back to her. The witch knew she was putting him in an awful position and hated being the one to ask this of him. She hesitantly got up and moved towards him. His cold eyes followed her with glacial disdain. He looked every inch the formidable Potions master, and Hermione gulped, unnerved by the transformation.

'I know I ask perhaps too much of you, my friend, but I don't know any other way. All other avenues are closed, and even then, this may not succeed.'

Snape looked down at her and sneered. 'No need to explain yourself to me. I am but your minion to do your bidding...as well you know. You are aware I have given my word to aid and abet you, and I have no choice or say in this matter. You are just joining the queue of masters who have discovered I am a well trained beast, able to do the most despicable tasks, and who feel it is their right to direct me to do all manner of 'essential' tasks for the greater 'good'. I am well used to this role. Now leave. Contact me when you need me, but other than that, I have nothing further to say.'

Hermione winced at the venom in his words. Could there possibly be any other way? The witch knew there was not. She quietly nodded and left.

======

Harry was lifting the kettle of water onto the coal range when there was a soft tapping on the door. As he walked over, he rolled his shoulders trying to relieve the tension in them. He opened the door to a small figure in a black, pointed witch's hat.

'Hey, Hermione, come on in. You've actually just followed me in the door. The kettle's on. Sorry about the mess.'

Ginny had been working long hours for weeks now, and the hut was slowly reverting back to his normal quagmire of disarray. He moved a pile of books stacked precariously on one of the armchairs so Hermione could sit down.

'Like I would complain.' Hermione smiled, settling into the armchair and taking off her hat.

Her hair was still fabulously unruly and in no way tamed by being encased in a hat all day...it was one of the things that hadn't changed about her. Harry walked over to the fire and gave it a prod. He hardly lit fires and only did so because he knew Hermione was coming for their daily cup of tea. The kettle started to whistle, and Harry went over to the small kitchen to prepare the tea.

'Did you take that kettle from the hut?' Hermione laughed.

'Yeah, it was too good to be wasted out in the middle of nowhere. I swapped it for mine. I like the sound of this one.'

'It does sound homey. How was your day?'

'Bloody awful actually. Did you hear about the attacks?' Harry handed the small witch her tea and sat down.

'Thanks. Yeah, I did. God, isn't it awful? Everybody was talking about it in the staff room.'

Harry felt a wave of heat rush through him and quickly put down his tea to take off his teaching robes. Harry saw Hermione run her eyes over him and smiled to himself; he knew he cut a fine form that she appreciated. But the fire and the hot tea were making him sweaty, and he felt he was suffocating. He always wore the lightest of shirts, no matter what the season, but it didn't really work.

'One of my fourth-year girls' parents were killed in the attacks. I had to tell her this afternoon.' Harry felt tears threatening and forced them down, swallowing furiously. Why couldn't he be like other men and not have to feel everything so acutely? He felt his face redden and become flushed.

'Oh, the poor, poor thing. Where is she now?'

'Her aunt picked her up only about an hour ago. I don't know if you know, but the whole Order is in a mess. Ginny is right in the thick of it all...has been for weeks now...and McGonagall is basically trying to keep a sinking ship afloat.' His face became bitter. 'And what am I doing? Sitting on my tush, having cups of tea. Great bloody use I am. And what can I say to the girl without it being a lie? Don't worry. Everything is going to be all right...yeah, sure.'

Harry took off his glasses and cleaned them with the corner of his shirt. He looked up as Hermione leaned across and patted him sympathetically on his arm. Despite his blurred vision, he could see her clear brown eyes looking at him lovingly. It made him feel better.

'You have great power, Harry. I can sense it,' she said softly.

Harry put his glasses back on quickly. That was a highly out of character comment for Hermione to make...surely she didn't still believe that.

'That was all an elaborate ploy by Voldemort...don't you know that?'

'Yeah, I heard, but I don't actually believe it. You are definitely one of the most powerful wizards I know.'

Harry felt uncomfortable. Yet Hermione would never say anything to him that she didn't believe to be true.

'Well, if I am, fat lot of use it is to anyone,' he said disparagingly.

'Do you feel it?' asked Hermione softly, her intelligent eyes observing him carefully.

It was strange. Nobody had ever actually asked him that question before...such a simple, up front question. This was more typical of the Hermione he knew. She always did favour the direct approach. And the thing was, Harry felt it constantly.

'I do actually. It burns inside me...it's awful.'

'Do you still sense Voldemort through your scar?'

'That stopped after Dumbledore died. Remember how it tortured me when we were at school? It was such a relief when it stopped. I never did work out why, but I'm sure not complaining.'

'Oh, I remember all right. You used to be so grouchy in the mornings.' Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned.

'Hey, you would have been too.' He then snorted. 'But I suppose I was really.' The wizard looked at the witch curled up comfortably in the armchair, her long fingers wrapped around the tea mug. 'Anyway, why all the questions?'

Hermione gave a small shrug and sipped her tea. 'I suppose I can't help looking at you in the way a Southern witch would...since I am one now.'

It was the first time Hermione had made any voluntary reference to the South.

'I didn't think they had witches and wizards in the South or that they used magic.'

'They sure do. But it's done very differently from here.'

'Fancy that.' Harry loved finding out these snippets of information; it made him feel less parochial. 'Is that why you got so sick after the attack...what was it again? A reaction to magic.'

'Exactly. As I say, the magic from the South is completely different. It's also why I haven't made any friends here other than you, McGonagall and Snape.'

A flash of anger consumed Harry at Hermione counting Snape as one of her friends. Had she not been listening to a word he had said about that spineless traitor? But at the last moment, he bit down his angry retort. He didn't want to jeopardize his friendship with her again over Snape. Then the oddity of her comment sank in. 'What do you mean?'

Hermione sighed, and regret showed on her face as she tucked her long hair behind her ears. 'No one else at Hogwarts comes anywhere near me.'

'Really? But why?' This had to be the oddest comment she had ever made. He tried furiously to recall her talking with someone in the staff room but drew a blank.

'It's to do with the type of magic I practice...it repels people here.'

'Really? Why? I'm certainly not repelled by you.' There was nothing repellant at all about Hermione...except that she was wearing Snape's clothes...which was just plain weird. What was she going on about?

'No, that's because you are Muggle-raised and a powerful wizard to boot. It is the wizard-raised who react to it. It was why you were able to visit me in the hut when I was sick...nobody else could, and that was the reason why McGonagall was acting so strangely.' Hermione took a sip from her cup, but continued to look closely at him.

'Wow, I never realized.' Harry ran his hand through his hair, unconsciously trying to flatten it.

'Not many people do. But that's why I know you have the potential power to beat Voldemort.'

'But how?' Harry swallowed. Was Hermione really saying this?

'You have two primary elements in you...fire and water. Voldemort has purposely kept you unbalanced, and as a result, you have suppressed your water element, and your fire element is overcompensating. Because of that, you haven't reached your potential power.'

'You are serious, aren't you? You believe this is right, don't you, Hermione?' Harry looked carefully at Hermione, who somberly nodded. His mind was whirring furiously at all the potentials and the maybes. ' But how does Voldemort know this?'

'Someone has trained him in Southern magic, and he is using it against the Order. I can recognize it.'

'But how do I go about unsuppressing my water element? I mean if this works, I might be of use and actually be able to help the Order.' Hope started to rise for the first time in Harry's chest.

'There are several Southern rites you would have to participate in.'

'Yeah...no problem...I'll do it. I've got absolutely nothing to lose.'

'I must warn you, Harry, that you will probably find part of the rite... challenging,' Hermione pointed out gravely.

'I don't care...I can do it.'

'It involves Snape.'

'What? Why?!'

'Why do you think Snape was able to heal me as he did or why everybody here dislikes him?'

'Because he is a slimy, traitorous bastard, that's why.' Harry spat.

'No, because Snape was brought up in the South and is trained in its magic.'

'I'll do whatever I have to do with you, but no way with him. I'm not going anywhere near the man. I don't trust him.'

'I can't be the one, Harry. It's got to be him.'

'Why?' asked the young wizard desperately.

'Other than Voldemort, Snape has the strongest water element. It has to be him.'

'But what are you?'

'I used to be fire, but I'm now all four of them...it's complicated. But I can't be the one...I have to conduct the rite.'

'No way. I'm not doing it. Snape is the only person I refuse to have anything to do with. Sorry, Hermione, there is no way,' stated Harry firmly.

The witch sighed wearily.

==

Professor McGonagall stepped out of the green flame and glanced about her darkened office as she dusted ash off her robes. She walked hastily through the dark to her desk and dumped the roll of parchments she was carrying before lighting the candelabras around the room with a flick of her wand. There was a sharp knock on her door, and the tall figure of Snape moved quietly into the room.

'Good evening, Headmistress. You wanted to see me?'

'Yes, Severus, please have a seat.'

The witch gestured towards the worktable in the center of her office and then dug about in the bottom drawer of her desk until she found what she was looking for. 'I could do with a drink after the day I had...would you care for one?' asked Professor McGonagall, holding up the bottle of firewhisky, and to her amazement the wizard nodded. She had only been asking out of courtesy's sake...Severus never ate or drank anything...it was little wonder he was so thin and surly.

'I heard one of your students lost someone in the attacks.' She clapped her hands, two tumbler glasses appeared before them, and she poured out the amber liquid.

'A first-year boy lost his sister. I told him the news this afternoon, and his other older sister collected him just before dinner.' Severus looked tired and drawn; his black eyes were fixed on the glass in front of him. He quickly took a gulp.

There was another light tapping on the door, and the professor noted how quickly Severus tensed as he looked sharply around.

Hermione's pale face under her pointed witch's hat appeared around the door. 'You wanted to see me, Headmistress?'

The young witch visibly started when she saw Severus, and an almost sorrowful expression passed across her face.

'Ah ... good evening, Professor Snape,' she greeted hesitantly.

'Come in, and have a seat, Hermione,' said Professor McGonagall, and to her great surprise, Severus stood up and deferentially pulled out a chair for Hermione to sit on.

'Good evening, Miss Granger.' His alert eyes followed her as she crossed the room.

Hermione calmly sat down next to him as if it was the most natural action for Hogwarts' formidable Potions master to do and smiled shyly at him in thanks.

The older witch took a sip of the sharp drink, taking in their unusual behavior. 'Would you like to join us for a drink?'

'That would be nice, thank you.' The young witch smiled as the professor clapped and a glass appeared before her.

'I know you are both wondering why I have asked you here tonight,' she began as she poured Hermione a drink. 'And yes, it is to do with the attacks today. The Order is now in an extremely vulnerable position...it is highly likely that the intensity of today's attacks will continue. There is little we can do to prevent them.' She paused and took in Hermione's troubled expression. 'I know I'm going out on limb by asking you both this, and I apologise in advance if I cause offense, but I felt your type of magic in the hut and know its formidable strength. Is there any way you could use your magic to help the Order? We have no more options left.'

The professor saw Hermione and Severus look at each other for a long moment with the oddest of expressions, and the dark wizard slightly inclined his head before he said, 'We will do all we can to help the Order, Headmistress...rest assured.'

The fireplace crackled and sparked; Kingsley's head appeared in the flame.

'Sorry to disturb you, Headmistress, but there has been a direct attack on the Order's headquarters.'

Professor McGonagall leapt to her feet, her heart pounding. It had started already. 'Any casualties?'

'Yes, four. They also have taken Ginny...I am afraid they will squeeze her for information.'

'Thank you, Kingsley. I am coming now.'

The older witch moved quickly to her desk where she gathered the necessary items.

'Sorry...I must go. Do you mind seeing yourselves out?'

'No, not at all,' they said together as she stepped into the fireplace and disappeared into a whoosh of flames.