Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter.

AN: Thanks to septentrion and LadySunflower for betaing.

Severus cursed under his breath. Was Atropos ever going to stop her bloodthirsty rampage? In his mind's eye, Diagon Alley was in ruins, populated by the restless dead.

Shifting his hands on Hermione's body so that he could safely pick her up, Severus stood. Closing his eyes in concentration, he Apparated to Hogsmeade's outskirts, hoping that the others were still there.

"Severus! Where did you go... oh. Is she..."

Cutting Minerva off, Severus spoke sharply. "There is no time. Ollivander is likely to be Atropos's next stop, with her wand destroyed."

"I fear that you are right. Although she hardly needs one to wreak havoc, she is going to want a replacement," Albus mused. "Minerva, be gathering the rest of the Order, to meet at the usual place. Harry, neither you nor Severus are fighting fit after the rigours of Atropos's attacks. Make for number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Poppy and Fleur Weasley should be there already. Fawkes, please take Hagrid there."

Fawkes gave an affirmative chirp from his position atop of Hagrid before leaving with the injured half-giant in a flash of fire.

Potter opened his mouth to protest, but Albus would have none of it, giving him a stern look over the top of his glasses.

"Against my better judgement, you stayed earlier to fight Atropos when you would have been better off leaving. Do not disobey me now, Harry. Besides, Ronald needs you."

Shoulders slumping, Potter heaved a sulky sounding sigh before hefting Weasley into his arms to take him to the Order Headquarters. The boys vanished, thankfully leaving nothing behind as they Disapparated. It seemed that Potter was capable of Apparating safely when not in top form, a useful skill for a future Auror.

Minerva gave Albus a searching look before nodding sharply, Disapparating without saying a word.

Shifting his grip on his bride, Severus voiced his misgivings. "Be careful, Albus. I do not think you should go alone to rescue Ollivander. It seems that there is nothing this Atropos is not capable of."

Albus gave Hermione's soundly sleeping form a long, inscrutable look. "If what I suspect about Atropos is true, it is unlikely that she will be as much of a threat at the present time."

Brow furrowing, Severus opened his mouth to ask what Albus meant by his cryptic statement, only to be left alone at the edge of the village when the rescue 'party' departed.

The sound of approaching people spurred Severus into action. While the people of Hogsmeade were more than capable of providing a warm welcome to those in need, he didn't want to take his chances with their reception of Hermione. Not after their last impression of her was of her raising their dearly departed from the grave and subsequently allowing them to collapse into ash when finishing off Voldemort at Hogwarts. He Disapparated with his burden just before the first Hogsmeade inhabitant came into sight.

Knowing that Poppy would have her hands full with Fleur, Weasley, Potter and Hagrid, Severus Apparated directly into the grubby bathroom on the second floor of Grimmauld Place to begin dealing with Hermione's injuries himself.

After thoroughly Scourgifying everything that could be cleaned, Severus set the bath and filled it with water; steam rose as the recalcitrant hot water tank began working. Even with magic, it was advisable to clean any wounds to prevent infection. Poppy generally used specialised Cleaning Charms, but Severus had little knowledge of them, so it would have to be the manual way. Almost of their own volition, his eyes trailed over his wife's body. The manual way looked to be far more... interesting, anyway.

A Disrobing Charm made fast work of undressing Hermione, the torn and blood stained clothes dropping to the floor. Testing the water temperature first, Severus carefully lowered her into the bath, bracing her shoulders with his hand to keep her head from slipping below the water lapping at her collarbone. That drew his attention to a distinctive set of bruises on her neck. He reached out with his shaking free hand, laying it over some of the marks. It fit exactly. Severus could feel a horrible suspicion dawning, but he discarded it for later inspection after he had finished with his duties in caring for Hermione.

In the process of cleaning the grime of the terrible events of the day off Hermione, he discovered several more bruises, one being hidden by her hair over her left temple until he swept it back in the process of rinsing it. There were also several scratches of varying degrees scattered across her body, but no sign of the injury inflicted by Albus's cast of Sectumsempra. The sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind also noted that there was no sign of another wound caused by his specialised Cutting Curse. Fawkes must have healed it (or them).

He'd dried Hermione off and had been about to put her in a bed in the room she'd last used during her fifth year at Hogwarts, when it occurred to him that when she awoke she wouldn't want to be in the same room that she'd shared with her dead friend. For the time being, he took her to a spare room, which was thankfully relatively clean.

Poppy had soon finished with her other charges, explaining how she'd handled them whilst examining Hermione, having sent a quick Patronus message to find out where Severus had put her next patient.

"Fleur Weasley is sleeping. She briefly woke up when the wards caused that cacophony. I'm just glad that Albus thought to enchant the boxes containing my supplies with Portkeys. Otherwise poor Fleur may well have lost her child if I hadn't been able to give her another dosage of a calming draught and Dreamless Sleep.

"Hmm. You have been through the wars," Poppy muttered, directing her comment to the still-sleeping Hermione.

"Hagrid is going to have a heart condition for the rest of his life. If Ho-Hogwarts hadn't fallen, then he'd have been forced to retire." From the hitch in Poppy's speech, Potter had presumably told her about Hogwarts' fall. Or perhaps she had deduced as much from the need to evacuate the castle.

"If Potter and Weasley were Hagrid's age, they'd be in pretty much the same condition, but they're young. They will be fine."

"And Hermione?" Severus prompted impatiently.

"Thirteen bruise locations, one of which indicates that someone tried to throttle her, another overlying a skull fracture, scratches largely focussed on her limbs, a bitten lower lip... traces of Blood Replenishing Potion detectable, but no sign of the injury requiring it."

"Fawkes healed it."

"Fine bird, that one. I wish he were my familiar, but then he'd run out of tears." She set to work on healing Hermione, Severus watching as the bruises began to fade and the scratches knitted together. "She will be fine by the time she wakes up, barring some magical and physical exhaustion, but only time and rest can set them to rights."

Severus graciously opened the door to let Poppy leave.

"Not so fast, Severus Snape. Potter mentioned that you were attacked by this other Necromancer, too."

Opening his mouth to protest, Severus could feel his cheeks burning when Poppy began a diagnostic spell. There was no way that she'd miss detecting some rather embarrassing bruises....

"Count yourself fortunate that Potter spoke up, Severus," Poppy said sharply, scowling up at him. She aimed her wand at the affected area, lips tightly compressed as she proceeded to heal it. "Such injuries to your genitals can result in sterility if left untreated. You're a married man, now. It's not just your future children at stake.

"The one good thing about exposure to the Cruciatus Curse is that it gradually strengthened your heart. If You-Know-Who hadn't repeatedly used you as a magical punching bag, you would be in Hagrid's circumstances by now, which might well have led to the breakdown of your marriage."

"Hermione wouldn't stop loving me just because of a heart condition," Severus snapped.

"Couples just as devoted to each other have been broken apart by the inability of one to fulfil the other's sexual needs."

Severus subsided, able to see her point, yet in denial that Hermione would ever reject him for something beyond his control. Thanks to the Dark Lord, there was no need to find out if such a situation would ever happen.

After Poppy had left, admonishing him again to take better care of himself, exhaustion overcame him. Severus flicked his wand at himself, undressing. He cast a couple of Cleaning Charms, disregarding the resulting dryness of his skin, before slipping into the narrow bed beside Hermione. Cursing when he almost tumbled out of it, he snatched his wand up again to expand the bed. So what if it blocked the door?

Hermione was still dead to the world when Severus awoke, dim sunlight lazily streaming in through a gap in the curtains drawn across the grimy window. Even that small amount of light irritated his stinging, bloodshot eyes. It felt like he'd been drinking heavily the night before, yet without the pleasure of the alcohol.

Rather than risk waking Hermione whilst disentangling their limbs, Severus took the precaution of retrieving his wand from under his pillow to cast a soporific charm on her, lifting it after he'd shifted from the bed.

Dressing quickly in freshly laundered robes, he could only guess that a house-elf had been obtained for such things whilst the Order was in residence at Grimmauld Place. Unless Molly Weasley's ghost was at work. Whatever the case, there was also a set of robes for Hermione, already modified to fit her. Whoever had supplied them apparently knew that she currently lacked a wand to Transfigure them to fit.

A groan from the bed alerted him to the fact that Hermione was stirring. She squinted up at him through screwed up eyes, and yawned hugely.

"I'll be back soon, with breakfast," Severus promised, leaning down to kiss her. By the time he'd opened the door she'd dozed off, snoring softly.

The sight of Ollivander sitting at the kitchen table in the dingy basement made Severus forget all about collecting breakfast in bed for Hermione.

Albus smiled up at him from his place at the head of the table, dipping chocolate biscuits into his tea whilst trying to avoid dunking his beard in.

"For once we were successful, then," Severus stated.

"It makes a nice change," commented Minerva, handing him a steaming cup of coffee.

Ollivander shook his silvery head, blinking his strange eyes. "I still find it hard to believe that it was not really Miss Granger that I sold a wand to yesterday."

Smirking, Severus jumped at the chance to correct him. After all, it wasn't every day that you could correct someone with uncanny near-perfect knowledge. "Actually, Hermione is my wife now."

"Congratulations." Ollivander looked thoughtful. Perhaps he was thinking of what wand would be likely to match a child born of the Granger-Snape union, but Severus was well aware that making such a guess was futile with such an unfathomable man.

"Regardless of Atropos's seemingly innocuous visit to replace her wand, we should get Poppy to check your health after breakfast," Albus suggested.

Frowning, Severus wondered why he felt a twinge of unease when Ollivander politely refused, saying that he did not want to be a bother. The nagging sense that something was wrong continued, turning his stomach and making it difficult to eat the plate of toast offered to him.

The entrance of some of the other Order members distracted him from his suspicions, allowing him to tuck into his breakfast.

"Snape," Alastor Moody greeted him before sitting across the table from him. "I hear you robbed the cradle."

Swallowing a mouthful of toast, Severus returned the compliment. "Moody. I'm surprised that you refrained from saying that I robbed the grave."

Moody laughed shortly. "That too. I hope your missus can deal with this more typical example of a Necromancer."

"Don't we all?" Severus muttered. "I fear that this Atropos is more than she can handle."

"How can that be?" Ollivander asked, joining the conversation. "Surely all Necromancers are on even footing?"

"No," Albus said, saving Severus from the need to answer. "I can tell you that Hermione was more powerful than Grindelwald, but that was before she atomised both herself and Voldemort. She no longer possesses that key power."

That nagging feeling returned in full force to Severus as Ollivander made no reaction to the news that had Moody all but ranting. Albus managed to get him to calm down, stating that if they all worked together, they were sure to find a solution. Lips compressed into a tight line, Severus stared down at his coffee, swirling the viscous liquid with a spell similar to that enchanting a self-stirring cauldron.

Severus looked up when the kitchen door swung open. Seeing that it was Hermione, he pulled out the chair next to him for her to sit down, but she made no move, seemingly frozen in the doorway, her eyes transfixed on Ollivander. Eyes that were fast darkening....

Ollivander had caught sight of exactly who stood in the doorway. A strange smile crossed his lined features.

"For heaven's sake!" Hermione snarled, irises completely black as she stepped forward, right arm outstretched as an eerie light gathered in the palm of her hand. "Are you all incapable of taking a pulse?"

The light streaked from her hand to strike Ollivander square in the chest. The breath froze in Severus's chest as he realised exactly what had been nagging him: the aged wand maker hadn't drawn a single breath that morning. No wonder he hadn't wanted Poppy to examine him!

A hollow laugh resounded from Ollivander as he stood up. Hermione's eyes were wide, her face fast paling as she realised that her attack had failed.

Hexes began flying at the newly revealed zombie, but these also had no effect, somehow absorbed by the roiling Dark magic now tangible in the room. Those closest to Ollivander went flying against the nearest walls, furniture smashing, masking the sickening cracks of bones breaking.

From the corner of his eye, as he attempted to inflict various obscure curses on the undead wizard, Severus observed Hermione grab something from the fireplace. He spared a quick glance at her, before ceasing hexing to watch, incredulous. Hermione had picked up the poker from the fireplace, empowering it with what paradoxically looked to be icy fire. She hurled it at Ollivander, impaling him on it, the cold fire simultaneously burning and freezing those parts of him it touched, until he yanked it from his chest, casting it aside. The damaged parts of his body rapidly healed.

"Nice try," he sneered. Severus blinked. That didn't sound like Ollivander at all. It seemed those under a Necromancer's control were wholly in thrall, from speech patterns to loyalties.

"Now, watch your friends die. The only way to stop this seemingly frail corpse is to reduce it to ash... Oh, but you can't do that!" Ollivander cackled.

The zombie turned to those still standing, shrugging off the curses still oncoming as if they were flies landing on him, slowly, menacingly advancing. Attempts to Disapparate to safety failed, the magical fabric within the house distorted by the wild, Dark magic at work. The door banged shut, refusing to open, the fire roaring far too high to Floo away.

"Do you trust me?" At Hermione's desperate question, Severus turned an injured look on her, quite insulted that she needed to ask.

"Of course I do!" he spat. "Do you have any other tricks up your sleeve that could stop this thing? Or was it telling the truth?"

"Yes, it was, but I have an idea," she said, sounding hesitant.

"Do it, then!" Severus demanded.

Hermione grabbed hold of his wrist, her fingers cold against his skin. He gasped as he felt her mind slip through his Occlumency barriers as though they were not there. Then... Severus's wand dropped from his grasp as his muscles suddenly jolted. He could feel Hermione usurping his control over his body, catching hold of her body as it fell limp, preventing it from falling to the floor.

Ollivander had almost reached the others, Albus pushing them behind him as the oldest one present, and therefore presumably thinking of himself as most expendable.

As a bystander in his own body, Severus watched as Hermione began focussing intently on the palm of his hand, a flickering spark forming. He could feel the great effort involved, together with a rather detached impression of the heat as the atomising spark brightened. His teeth were tightly clenched, sweat trickling down his face and spine with the effort Hermione was expending from within him. Severus could feel his body protesting, the skin blistering beneath the deadly ember. Although she could use her Necromantic powers in other bodies, it was clear that those other bodies did not have her resistance to them. As soon as she could, she threw the spark at Ollivander, striking him between the shoulder blades.

Screaming horribly, the zombie twisted around, ranting incoherently as he gradually collapsed into ash. Even somewhat detached from his senses as he was, Severus mentally gagged at the smell of burnt human flesh permeating the room. Ever practical, Minerva cast a freshening charm, banishing the foul stench in the air.

Shifting his hands so that they touched her skin, Hermione slipped back into her own body. Unfortunately, this meant that he was all too aware of the pain caused by the burn on his hand. Despite Minerva's recent spell casting, he could still smell burning flesh. A fresh wave of increased pain made him look down at the nauseating sight of his hand blistering further. A moment later, the damage was halted as his palm was covered by a thin layer of ice, Hermione's hand outstretched over it. Observing that her hand was trembling, Severus just had time to grab her before her legs gave way beneath her.

After Poppy had healed those injured by the zombie's attack, she restored Severus's hand back to its healthy state. Hermione tucked into her breakfast half-heartedly. Something was clearly bothering her, but Poppy would allow no discussions until she was satisfied that her long term patient wouldn't faint on her feet. Finally, she gave a stiff nod before returning to the room appropriated to treat those needing more intensive care, where Hagrid and Fleur were still cloistered.

"It seems that you will be equally matched against this other Necromancer," Moody growled, "provided that you face her whilst possessing your husband."

"Provided that I don't mind reducing my own husband to ash, you mean," Hermione snapped, giving Moody a venomous glare. "There is no worse way to die than being atomised. I would know."

"It would be a worthwhile sacrifice!" Moody hammered his fists on the table, making the crockery on it rattle.

"You volunteering?" she sneered.

"I would give my life, as any decent wizard would!" barked Moody.

Severus prepared to intervene, seeing that Albus and Minerva were clearly readying themselves for the same thing.

Slamming her cutlery back on the table, Hermione shoved back her chair and stood up. "It wouldn't just be you. It'd take burning up everyone in the Order just to make Atropos feel uncomfortable, and that's not even taking into account those she helps along to their doom."

"If that is what it takes, then it would be worth it." Moody glowered at her, his magical eye almost sparking in his anger.

Hermione grabbed hold of his wrist. Whatever she did only took a moment, but Moody was pale faced and shaking by the end of it.

"Hermione!" Albus exclaimed, reaching out to hold Hermione back from Moody lest she repeat whatever it was that she'd done. "What did you do?"

"Gave him a taster of what he's so keen for everyone else to do, that's all. It's better than the alternative," she murmured darkly.

Passing the duty of restraining Hermione over to Severus, Albus put his face in one of his hands, his voice both muffled and exasperated when he spoke. "With power comes responsibility. A Legilimens does not, I repeat, does not implant thoughts into others' minds."

"My apologies," muttered Hermione, clearly not sorry at all. Severus couldn't blame her; he had no wish to be reduced to ash. Moody had no right to speak for anyone other than himself.

Albus lowered both his hand and his brows, giving Hermione a reproachful look. She didn't bat an eyelash, just stared right back at him mutinously.

"Could you do that to Atropos?" Moody's voice was hoarse. To Severus's ears, it sounded as though the infamous Auror had sampled a few too many of Mundungus Fletcher's dubious cigars. "Not just a taster, either, I mean."

That brought Albus and Hermione's standoff to an abrupt end as both of them twisted around to face Moody.

"No..."

"Alastor, it would..."

Both of them spoke at once. They paused, glancing over at the other, before Albus inclined his head, allowing Hermione to speak first.

"I can't do to her what I did to you without touching her. And touching her would be monumentally stupid."

Moody's mouth firmed to a lopsided slash. "I see. You're too cowardly to..."

"How dare..." Severus exploded, looming over Hermione in a protective fashion.

"Alastor, Severus, calm down. Hermione, please explain."

Looking reluctant to say the least, Hermione gave Albus a dubious look. "I suspect that's dangerous knowledge to impart, Professor."

"Better that the truth comes out whilst the rift in reality is not being actively widened."

Severus could feel Hermione's muscles tightening beneath his hands where he rested them on her shoulders. Absentmindedly kneading at them didn't seem to have any effect. "That's a moot point. Just because I'm not within sight of her doesn't mean that no damage is being done."

"You are speaking in riddles," Severus murmured into her ear, whilst feeling the suspicion arising once more in him that he'd last felt when seeing injuries on Hermione matching those afflicting Atropos.

She grumbled under her breath, but elaborated. "We're one and the same. It would risk ending the world to touch her. Reality doesn't like paradoxes."

"That can't be right!" Weasley protested. "You would never murder my family."

"What?" Hermione sounded as though she'd been winded. Wincing, Severus realised that he hadn't had the chance to tell her of her friends' deaths.

Too late, the same thing occurred to Weasley. "Oh. Erm, yesterday, when you came into Dumbledore's office, you were attacked because, well...."

Her head bowed as if under a great weight, Hermione said nothing. Severus could feel her breathing raggedly.

"I'm sor..."

"Sorry?" Hermione's voice had a hysterical edge, her head jerking up, almost giving Severus a mouthful of her hair. "So am I, Ron, but sorry just doesn't cut it." She muttered something under her breath, which Severus got the gist of as not blaming Albus for attacking her because she would have done much the same thing.

Albus opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off. "Just forget it. We have bigger problems on our hands, namely my other self."

Clearly unhappy, Albus allowed the matter to slide.

"I don't get it," Potter said, slowly shaking his head. "How can there be two of Hermione?"

"My best guess is that she comes from the future. She is older than me, after all."

"What makes you say that?" Lupin asked from his position lurking behind Potter. He was nursing a healing broken arm after being hurled into the wall by the travesty that had been Ollivander, otherwise he might have managed to deal with the zombie with his unnatural strength gained by his status as a werewolf. Much as Severus loathed agreeing with Lupin, he was wondering the very same thing. He shifted so that he could see Hermione's face.

"Of course!" exclaimed Minerva. "I doubt anyone but a witch would notice the fine lines marking a few extra years."

"But if Atropos is you, Hermione, why's she come back to her own past to kill her own friends?" Weasley asked.

"I never said that she was sane," she said softly, a strange, bitter smile on her features.

"Ministry info on Necromancers says that all of them go that way in the end. It's part of the reason why the powers that be have zero tolerance," Nymphadora Tonks unthinkingly put in, the Metamorphmagus's hair shifting to a sheepish off-white when she realised what that implied about Hermione. "Um, sorry!"

"It is not necessarily the case that Atropos is from your future, Hermione. I find it unlikely; there are too many inconsistencies." Albus looked around at the assembled members of the Order. "But I do agree that she is almost certainly you in some shape or form."

"What are you implying, Albus?" Severus asked, crossing his arms. As usual, it appeared that the old man knew more than he was letting on.

"Just that we should keep an open mind. Wherever Atropos's origins are, it is clear that it will be no simple matter to deal with her. Minerva, have we heard from the others yet?"

Minerva shook her head, looking disgusted. "Those that are not here either refuse to fight alongside a Necromancer or against one. They are either too afraid or prejudiced."

"Then we should begin. We have at least two objectives: finding a way to deal with Atropos and finding her in the first place, as there has been no sign of her since she replaced her wand." Albus moved to the head of the righted and repaired kitchen table, sitting down.

"It's simple enough, Albus, as you well know. We finish her the same way you finished Grindelwald." To illustrate his point, Moody drew a line across his throat with one of his fingers.

Pandemonium erupted at Moody's suggestion, even those who held no fondness for Hermione expressing distaste at such a brutal method of killing.

Severus drew his wand, pointing it directly at the retired Auror's heart. "We cannot kill Atropos, not when doing so clearly risks killing Hermione, too. Albus did not tell you that what harms one of them harms the other?"

Both of Moody's eyes, the magical and the natural ones, seemed to light up. He drew his own wand, aiming it at Hermione. "That makes finding this Atropos immaterial when we can kill her right here and now. What's a little collateral damage?"

Before Severus and Moody could come to blows, Albus reached out, calling both of their wands into his custody. "We have no way of knowing if killing one would kill the other, Alastor. Unless there is no other way, I will not condone Hermione's death. That being so, we will investigate every other possible avenue of dealing with Atropos."

"You can't risk everything and everyone because of me!"

Grabbing hold of her, Severus leaned over Hermione, lowering his face until their noses almost touched. An almost crazed look was in his eyes. "I lost you once already. You are not putting me through that again." His fingers dug into her arms, threatening to bruise her. He loosened his grip after she winced, his fingers trembling as he struggled against the urge to shake some sense into her.

"I'll have nothing to do with any plan that involves killing Hermione. I've lost my family. I won't lose one of my best friends, too." Weasley glowered at Moody. Potter stepped up beside him, lending obvious support without needing to say a word.

Most of the rest of the assembled Order were either looking away, declaring neutrality or discomfort on the matter, or joining Potter and Weasley in glaring at Moody.

"Enough! You will follow my lead on this, Alastor," Albus demanded.

"Fine," Moody spat. He stomped into a shadowy corner to glower darkly at Hermione.

It was decided that the best way to deal with the problem posed by Atropos in the short term was to capture her using the only method Albus knew would work: causing blood loss. As soon as possible, all members of the Order still in service would learn Severus's very own Sectumsempra curse. Whilst causing any pain to Hermione was not acceptable to Severus, it was far better than the fate of Grindelwald... he shuddered at the thought.

Beyond keeping intelligence channels open, Albus had no way of tracking Atropos down other than using the spell discovered before Hogwarts fell. Hermione pointed out that at the time she found that particular method, she'd had no idea that Atropos shared her genetic material. Unsurprisingly, that would confound the blood magic behind the spell. For the time being, she had no other suggestions, bemoaning the loss of her eidetic memory.

The rest of the day was spent in the Black family library, everyone who could be spared scouring through the books. Severus realised with a sharp pang that he had lost his most useful books when Hogwarts was destroyed, as he kept those he didn't use regularly at Spinner's End.

Watching Hermione slam her current book closed, blinking back tears, Severus assumed that she was mourning the loss of the library at Hogwarts until she spoke. "Is there anything like the Room of Requirement in the wizarding world?"

Albus shook his head. "Not that I know of. It is time to get into contact with the Ministry. Perhaps they have material on Necromancers, including how to track them."

Bored stiff by her reading, Tonks brightened, her hair flashing back into her habitual pink from the dreary brown it had been. "The Dark Detectors might be able to find her if Hermione stays put here. Not that you'd be stupid enough to go to the Ministry when they'll soon be in Necromancer hunting mode."

Severus selected another book, glowering down at the dusty cover. He doubted that the Ministry would be of any use, but it was clear that the wizarding public would be at more risk if the Magical Law Enforcement were kept in the dark. Besides, after the evacuation and subsequent destruction of Hogwarts, it would be impossible to keep the knowledge from the Ministry.

"I hope to be able to persuade Rufus Scrimgeour not to consider Hermione a threat, but I am afraid that it will be too much for him to differentiate between them," said Albus, shaking his head despairingly. He suddenly looked sharply at Tonks. "The Dark Detectors do not show that there is a Necromancer at large?"

"Nope," Tonks said grimly. "The only explanation is that they've been tampered with. If they can't be reset to pick her up, that'll make Atropos all the harder to track down." She stood up, almost tripping over her chair. "I'll swap places with Kingsley. He's going to be ticked off that he's been kept out of the loop this long as it is."

The search was fruitless. Albus had managed to come up with a charm that would automatically search the books for any words associated with Necromancers, but there was no mention of how to find one. More ordinary tracking charms were still generally considered Dark magic, but attempts at using them were also useless. Mundungus Fletcher had gone to scour Knockturn Alley for more material, but Severus suspected that was just an excuse not to be in the same room as Hermione. Quite a few of the other members of the Order were also uncomfortable to be in her presence, but persevered nonetheless.

Unwilling to remain in Grimmauld Place for another night, Severus had retreated to Spinner's End. In the morning, he intended to search the remainder of his own books for any useful information.

"So this is where you grew up? It's, ah, very...."

Turning to Hermione, Severus smirked. "It is almost as dilapidated as Grimmauld Place. But at least we are alone now." His eyes hardened.

"Severus?" She involuntarily backed away as he advanced, stiffening when she came into contact with the nearest wall. Before she could get away, Severus placed his hands on the wall either side of her head, restricting her movement further when he leaned in.

"Do you recall what you said earlier, when Moody was so keen to kill you?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. Hermione's eyes widened, looking very much like a trapped wild animal as she raised her eyes to his.

Severus's emotions were roiling when he stepped into the shower. On top of all of the other recent events, reading Hermione the riot act was too much for his typically iron self-control. At least any stray tears were concealed by the spraying water.

He was just finishing rinsing his hair directly under the showerhead when a tentative touch on his back startled him. Twisting around, he slipped, just managing to keep himself from bashing his head on the tiled wall. Flushing, he turned off the water before accepting his towel from Hermione, not looking at her.

"I'm sorry! I thought...." She sounded like she'd been crying.

Drying himself off, Severus did not speak until he'd towelled his hair off, making it stick up worse than Potter's. He finally looked at her, raising an eyebrow as he noted the lack of clothes.

"If you had in mind ambushing me in the shower with amorous intentions, then we both might have needed to see Poppy, as I demonstrated. On the whole, a bed is a far better place, unless Levitation Charms are applied." Severus hoped that Hermione would think that the hoarseness of his own voice was due to shouting rather than crying.

"Then take me to bed," Hermione murmured, extending her hand to him. Severus took it, tugging her towards him as he slid his grip to her waist. She squeaked in surprise as he lowered a shoulder, hefting her over it to carry her into his bedroom.

She pounded her fists on his back. "Caveman!"

Ignoring the derogatory term, Severus dropped her on his bed, snatching his wand up. "Unlike Hogwarts, there are no wards barring conception here," he explained as he cast a non-verbal charm on himself, causing his genitals to glow briefly.

Eyes darkening with desire, Hermione pulled him down to lie beside her. A satisfied sigh slipped through her lips at the renewed contact of their skin. She brushed her lips gently against his, but Severus was in no mood for tenderness. It appeared that Hermione was more than willing to match his bruising kisses, her tongue battling with his.

They broke apart, gasping for breath, Severus partially on top of her, her breasts pressing against his chest.

"I take it you want to be on top this time?" Hermione asked, breathless.

"Not exactly," he breathed in her ear, delighting in the shiver running through her. She shot him a quizzical look through heavily lidded eyes. He stood, coaxing her into the position he had in mind.

Severus generally preferred to be able to see Hermione's face when making love, but this wasn't the more usual tender encounter. This was something far more powerful, almost violent in its intensity.

On her hands and knees at the edge of the bed, Severus stood behind her, hands on her hips, doing his best to avoid hurting her with each deep thrust. Although she seemed to be finding the unavoidable twinges involved as pleasurable as they were painful, from the cries she muffled against a pillow.

Leaning forwards, Severus reached beneath her, hands roaming, caressing her.

Eyes rolling back in his head as he reached completion, it was inevitable that Severus became unbalanced on his decidedly shaky legs. He fell forward on top of Hermione, barely managing to catch some of his weight on his arms as they were almost as shaky as his legs. Hermione fell flat on the bed, pinned on her stomach beneath Severus, their limbs tangled.

Rolling to the side, Severus managed to get into a position comfortable enough to sleep in, spooning up against Hermione. He was about to drop off when the hitching quality to Hermione's breathing roused him. For a moment, he thought she was crying until the movement of her arm beneath his own, draped around her, clued him in. He came fully awake, mortified.

"Hermione, you did not...."

"Indeed not," Hermione murmured, equal parts frustration and unfulfilled desire in her voice. "You going to do something about it?"