Progressing

A huge thank you to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood for reading this over for me and to thedoughymatron, Dandru, and Writermerrin for combing through this and helping me clean up my mistakes. I really appreciate the beta help. Thank you very much.

Also, smooches and a big thank you to DuchessOfArcadia for my lovely banner! I really love it, doll.

Progressing

Severus appeared between a large oak and an old rusty gate. He touched the bell and pushed open the gate, smirking when the rusty hinges made no sound at all. He walked confidently up the garden path, taking the fork that led to what appeared to be the stables, and knocked on the door.

A very short, stocky wizard with an overly large head and prominent pointed, cauliflower ears opened the door and ushered him inside. “Come in,” he said in a gruff voice.

Severus looked around the workroom at the anvil, grinding stones, worktables, and the forge, thankful that the craftsman was alone.

“Is this what you want copied?” the craftsman asked, indicating the long wooden box Severus was holding with one hand.

“Yes. I want an exact duplicate, every detail, even the gems,” Severus said.

“Well, let me see it,” the old wizard said as he wiped his hands on his apron.

Severus laid the box on a worktable. He handed the craftsman a pouch. “These should suffice; the gems are a close match. No one will know the difference.”

The craftsman opened the box, picked up the sword and slowly examined the details and workmanship. “I don’t do goblin-wrought narthil,” he said, squinting at the engraving.

“Nor do I require it to actually be made of narthil, only finest wrought goblin-made silver to appear like narthil to the eye,” Severus said smoothly as he watched the wizard examine the sword. The wizard looked up at him with a calculating gleam, which was answered with a stern gaze. “I expect a perfect sheen, the lettering to be exact, and the replica to be indistinguishable even to the average dealer. Besides, few have even seen the true sword – so your finest work should suffice.”

The wizard set the sword down and narrowed his eyes. “It will cost you.”

Severus unbuttoned his left cuff and pulled up his sleeve. “I was already informed of what your price would be,” he stated through clenched teeth as the man stared bug-eyed at the Dark Mark on his forearm.

The craftsman’s face blanched as his gaze flickered from the Dark Mark to Severus’ face. “He told me I could trust you!”

“He said this would be enough,” Severus sneered, tossing a coin bag on the workbench. “Generous, even.” Severus pulled down his sleeve and buttoned his cuff. “I swore to him to keep your secret, Arthur Thorn, so you, in turn, will keep mine. No one is to know of this arrangement. You will do your finest work and not procrastinate. I need it in a week, less if you can.”

Arthur nodded and wiped his hands on his black apron. “I shall send a letter by owl the moment it’s done.”

“Send your owl at night,” Severus instructed the wizard. “However, I will be back in an hour to collect the original. No one must know it’s missing for obvious reasons. After today, we should have as little contact as possible – for your own safety.”

The wizard nodded and pulled out a long piece of parchment and began to trace the sword with a charcoal drawing stick. Severus turned, satisfied that the craftsman would not procrastinate on his commission. He turned, left the premises, and Disapparated next to the old oak.

He arrived at his destination and checked his pocket watch and his lips curved slightly. Right at the appointed time. The huge wrought-iron gates contorted into a gruesome face. “State your purpose.”

“I’ve been summoned,” Severus said curtly, and the gates opened to admit him. He used the time it took to approach the front doors of the impressive mansion estate to repress his emotions and choose which memories he’d show the Dark Lord.

A young wizard wearing a recruit’s mask admitted him into the foyer. “Down the hallway, sir,” the boy said, pointing the way before he closed the door.

The eyes of the ancestral relatives’ portraits lining the long, candle lit hallway followed him as he walked by. The heavy, wooden door to the drawing room stood open, and several people moved to admit the newest arrival. Severus barely had time to let his eyes adjust to the faint light before a high, clear voice spoke up from the place of honor at the head of the highly polished, ornate table. “Severus, come forth.”

As always, the backlight of the roaring fire beneath the handsome marble mantelpiece made the speaker difficult to see. Only when Severus moved closer to him did the facial features belonging to the dark, smooth-headed silhouette slowly morph into view; first, the gleaming glow of the red eyes appeared in the dark form of the wizard’s head as they gazed upon Severus’ every move. Then, the pale, snake-like skin began to emanate through the gloom, and finally, he could distinguish the slits of the flattened nose and the broad, nearly lipless mouth.

“My Lord, you requested my presence,” Severus said smoothly, bowing to the Dark Lord. All along the table, every head had turned to look at him, the members of the inner circle, those still in the Dark Lord’s good graces. Severus smirked that Lucius and Narcissa were seated near the end of the table, between the thugs, Yaxley and Thortenson.

“What news of the school?” the Dark Lord asked in a bored tone. “I grow weary of hearing Alecto complain of all your shortcomings.”

“There has been some rebellion, but we keep abreast of the situation the best we can and discipline the offenders appropriately,” Severus admitted as he straightened. “These children are used to Dumbledore’s lenient ways and as such are not adjusting to the more stringent rules.”

“And discipline – how is that handled?” the Dark Lord asked, his long fingers steepled in front of him.

Severus inhaled and mentally braced himself. “I allow the teachers to discipline infractions in their classrooms as they see fit as long as the child does not become harmed beyond our Healer’s abilities. As for the other incidents, I decide on the appropriate action.”

“I see.” The Dark Lord was quiet for a few seconds. Only the crackle of the fire, the soft scuffle of feet from those standing and a clearing of a throat beside him broke the silence. “I was pleased with your decision regarding the trick treats. However, Amycus is unhappy about losing his weekends.”

Severus exhaled and repressed his smirk at the comment. “He hasn’t had to repeat any of his lessons so far. He simply has the students write one foot of parchment on each spell with the means of reversing the effects for the lesson that was missed. As far as I know, he still enjoys the horned noghound races every Saturday.” A soft snicker elicited by his relation was quickly covered over by a few coughs. “Alecto, on the other hand, enjoys repeating her lessons on a weekly basis.”

“I see,” the Dark Lord replied, his tone neutral. “And young Malfoy?”

“Doing well in his lessons and following your orders,” Severus replied. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Narcissa lean forward slightly in her chair. “Hermione is resigned to his attention and is actually becoming social with the boy. Even her friends in Gryffindor are becoming accustomed to seeing them together.” Several of the others at the table made condescending chuckles. “She has also made friends with several of the Slytherin girls.”

The Dark Lord rested his hands on the table in front of him. “So I have heard. Very well.” He held one hand to the side, palm up. “Wormtail.” Peter Pettigrew approached the table and handed the Dark Lord a scroll. He snatched it, without giving the Rat a glance. “I have reviewed the amendments and bylaw changes proposed by the governors. Some I approve – most I do not.” He opened his hand, and the scroll floated down the table to Severus, who caught it easily and pocketed it. “I also would like you to assist the Lestranges in a small project for me. I will require the School Registry. Belinda will be by to retrieve it tomorrow. I’ve granted her request to spend time with her brother.”

“Yes, my Lord. She will be an honored guest,” Severus replied with a bow, hiding his displeasure of her impending visit behind the veil of his hair. “However, it will be difficult to give her the actual book. The School Register is enchanted and will not allow its removal from the Deputy Headmistress’ office. However, Madam Pince can replicate the book quite easily. I can have a replica made available for Belinda by the next weekend, if that is acceptable to you, my Lord?” He waited for the strike, bracing for the onslaught of pain he knew would come.

It didn’t.

“That is what Alecto has informed me – that your Deputy Headmistress told her it was impossible to remove the current book from her office.” The Dark Lord pressed his fingertips together as he contemplated.

Severus waited, ignoring the shifting of those around him.

“Very well, a copy, an exact copy, but only current generations, Severus. I have no need for records of ancient enrollment, and I want all the names of the newly listed, all eleven year olds, every name, and every address. This Madam Pince will not like my displeasure if the book has erroneous information. Belinda will be at the school to pick it up on Friday. Now, take your place among my followers, Severus,” the Dark Lord instructed, rising to his feet even as the table vanished.

The members of the inner circle rose and took a step back, widening the space before the Dark Lord, creating a wide aisle as once again those standing near the doorway moved. Runcorn entered, followed closely by three boys, no older than eighteen or nineteen, wearing black, hooded robes and recruit masks. Three Death Eaters, the boys’ sponsors, followed next. Runcorn and the masked sponsors bowed as the boys all knelt before the Dark Lord. The four Death Eaters stood proudly as each boy was greeted by name and allowed to kiss the Dark Lord’s hand in turn.

Severus recognized each of them. Jared Yaxley, Yaxley’s youngest, had left Hogwarts two years ago. Clayton McFaul, he’d been a bully in school. His sister Elizabeth was a seventh-year Slytherin and very much like her mother, although he expected to see her kneeling before the Dark Lord at the end of the school year. And Trenton Gerund, a less than average student who had received only a few Acceptables and Poors. Severus had more hopes for his sister, fifth-year Ravenclaw, Antonia Gerund, an intelligent and capable student. Except she tended to hang around only the pure-blood students and spent most of her efforts on her appearance rather than academics.

The Dark Lord then faced those in the room imperiously. “We have here today, three young men who have demonstrated themselves worthy of consideration to our ranks,” he said and then turned to stare down at the three expectant boys. “You will leave the circle of youth and join my circle of noble wizards, the elite, to stand by me as we take back that which is our divine right. If you obey me, you will succeed. If you are useful, you will earn favor. If you are strong, you will gain much. If you learn from me, you will gain knowledge. If you listen to me, you will be powerful. If you are weak, you will fail. Swear to me your life; body, blood, heart, and soul that you will serve me. That you shall render unconditional obedience to me, as your Lord, and promise to aid my brethren, to respect your fellow Death Eaters, and any who serve me. As a brave soldier of our cause, you shall at all times be prepared to give everything I ask of you.”

All three said, “Yes, my Lord,” without hesitation. “I freely set upon this course, binding myself to you, my Lord, to ever be a good and true knight.”

“Do you swear to obey me in all things as your Lord and Master?” the Dark Lord stated rather than asked, already knowing what they would say. “When I command you, or allow a command to be given, will you obey it absolutely, without reservation or hesitation?”

All three said, “I swear, my Lord,” in voices that were clear and resonate in the quiet room.

“Know that to wear the Dark Mark of a knight is to hold a sacred trust, that the obligations of knighthood will demand your efforts every moment of your life. Do you accept my Mark as a symbol of your loyalty?” the Dark Lord asked.

In unison they all replied, “I will render myself to you, to be yours to command, committed unconditionally in my obedience to you, my Lord and Master, to be ready at the wand, as a brave knight to you, to risk my life at any time you have need of me for the greater good of the magical nobility.”

Severus stood tall and rigid, watching in disgust while the Dark Lord branded his Dark Mark into the young flesh, and each boy tried vainly to keep from screaming out as his skin burned and hissed from the spell. As the boys regained their composure, the Dark Lord asked for their masks, exchanging the recruits’ mask for one representing the Knights of Walpurgis, the original half skull mask instead of the ornate sliver ones presently worn by the Death Eaters. As the boys accepted their masks, looking at them in awe, the Dark Lord backed up and relaxed into his seat. “Rise and greet your brethren.”

When it was his turn, Severus shook hands with all three boys.

“Severus, Thaddeus, Lucius, Moncrieff, I believe you four have another appointment to attend. You may go,” the Dark Lord said dismissively, turning his attention to Mr. Bulstrode.

Severus bowed and left, grateful to be given leave. He overheard Lucius telling Thaddeus Nott and Moncrieff Macnair about the reinstatement of the Knights of Walpurgis as the men walked down the hallway ahead of him. “The youngsters start like we did, proving their mettle before being accepted into the rank of the Death Eaters,” Lucius stated.

Macnair nodded in agreement. “Three more Knights of Walpurgis. Runcorn intends to secure their position in the hit squads and then use them to silence the Dark Lord’s political opponents, those antiquated, Muggle-loving liberals who are still being obstinate.”

“Once the Knights of Walpurgis are established, we can eliminate those Aurors who are not with us; they can be sent to Azkaban,” Macnair commented.

“It’s time they were enlightened to the realities of the might of power,” Nott stated. “Of course, the first thing we need is to get our hands on the School Registry and ferret out the undesirables early before they are told they are equal to us.”

Severus swore under his breath before entering the Floo for the Ministry.

The meeting with the school governors was drawn out. Umbridge was furious that her proposals were rejected, especially her favorite, utilizing the Blood-Oath quill in detentions when students ‘lie about Potter or mention Potter’s name in school.’ She even went as far as to demand an explanation, which none of the other Death Eaters assigned to the board would expound upon. In the end, the Death Eater majority won out. The new scroll was signed by all thirteen members, and Severus signed his name as Headmaster.

On his way out, Severus debated taking the chance to seek out Kingsley and spotted Tonks in the corridor near the lifts. He maneuvered over to her and drew her aside. “I have to talk to you.”

She glared at him. “This is not the place—”

“Now, woman,” he growled and pulled her into the first open lift. “Get out,” he snarled at the clerk who was about to enter. “I have some questions to ask you.” As the lift doors closed, he released her arm and turned to face her. “The Dark Lord wants the School Registry and the Magical Birth Registry. Runcorn has been given three more recruits today, and he will be tied up with their indoctrination, so that doesn’t leave you much time. As soon as the new recruits have their assignments, he will be coming for the Magical Birth Registry. I’d say Tuesday afternoon – Wednesday at the latest. I wouldn’t count on waiting until Tuesday though. You must see he doesn’t get the current book or every Muggle-born from birth to eleven years old will be in jeopardy. I will take care of the School Registry.” The door opened, and he stepped out of the lift before Tonks could reply.

“Please tell me why I cannot go to the library?” Hermione tried to moderate her tone, but he was not exactly being forthright with her. ‘Because I said so’ was not an answer. Well it was, if she were five. “You wouldn’t let me go last night after dinner or let me go this morning, and you’re refusing to let me go down to the Great Hall for lunch.”

Cillian stared out of the window with his arms crossed, not even bothering to turn around and address her properly. “Hermione, he was summoned. Your friends have been causing too much trouble. Alecto complained, again, and he had to go see our master. Draco will be by with all the necessary books for your essays, but today, you are staying here.” He turned and faced her, his expression hard and set. “Now stop complaining. I’m tired of it.”

Hermione stormed up to the sitting room to get away from him. She was sitting in one of the chairs by the windows, reading a history book, when Draco walked in. He walked over next to her, dropped a bag laden with books on the floor and sat in the seat Severus favored.

“You’re wrong.”

She looked up. “Pardon me?”

“The Death Eaters are trying to bring us out from under the shadows. We’re doing what must be done to bring about change,” he stated, his arms crossed defiantly as he stared at her.

“You’re right, people hate change,” she said, checking out which books he’d brought her.

“Right, so they resist,” he said curtly. “It is not the same thing as before when that Muggle, Hitler, tried to take over the Muggles in Germany.”

“He tried to concquer most of Europe and Northern Africa.” She set one of the books from the bag on the small table next to her. “But it’s what the Dark Lord and his followers are doing that’s wrong, Draco.” She looked up at him. “The primary task of the school is the education of the youth, right? To teach us how to perform magic properly.”

“You know it is,” he snapped. “Otherwise you Muggle-borns would be doing random acts of uncontrolled magic all over the place.”

She chose to ignore his barb. “This year, Muggle Studies has been added to everyone’s schedule in order to enlighten us to the evils of Muggles. Isn’t that what Alecto is doing, telling all of us how evil they are? And Amycus teaching us the Dark Arts – your Dark Lord’s idea of what’s best for all of us – to know how to hurt people the right way.”

“We have to know how to defend ourselves from our enemies,” he stated, “and to do that we have to understand them, the Muggles, and know the spells necessary to combat their influence.”

“I see. And all this is to prepare us for the service of the Dark Lord and his new world order, to help us know about our place in the world, right? Did you read any of the history books I suggested on the Muggle World War II?” she asked.

His gaze flickered to the book she’d been reading when he’d come in, and he inhaled before he turned to look out of the window. “Yeah, I did. That was Muggles; we’re wizards. It’s different.”

Hermione smiled. She’d been waiting for him to bring this up and had memorized a few things she thought would make him see a correlation. “Germany had National Socialist teachers of questionable ability take over the classrooms in order to shape and influence the young minds of the students into accepting and believing the Party motto. During a cabinet meeting in December 1941, Hans Frank, Gauleiter of Poland, stated that they needed to rid themselves of all feelings of pity for the Jews. He stated that they had to annihilate the Jews wherever they found them and wherever it was possible in order to maintain their ideal structure of the Reich as a whole. By July of 1942, Himmler visited Auschwitz-Birkenau for two days, inspecting all ongoing construction and expansion of the death camps and personally oversaw the extermination process from start to finish of two trainloads of Jews that had arrived from Holland. Kommandant Höss, I think it was, was in charge of the construction of the camp, which included four large gas chambers and crematories. You do remember reading about the crematories, right? He was then promoted as head of the camps—”

“Yeah, but we’re not doing anything like that,” Draco interrupted, scowling at her. “That was the Muggle Germans doing that to those Jews people.”

“Don’t think so? Okay.” She got up and crossed the room to where Severus kept the Daily Prophets. Selecting a few, she returned to her chair. “The Muggle-born registration is backed by your guys – the Death Eaters. The purpose is to find and register all Muggle-borns, segregate them, and cull them from society. Those found to be half-blood or have Muggle grandparents are tried and taken to Azkaban.” She handed him a recent publication. “Two hundred ninety-four Azkaban inmates were found floating in the ocean off the shore of the Isle of Marwolaeth – where Azkaban stands. The report shows that they had all been Kissed and then dumped into the sea to drown. According to Wendell Mulciber, head of the Muggle-born internment at Azkaban, the bodies were cremated.”

“That’s different; it was an accident,” he said, holding the paper out to her to take back.

“An accident that all two hundred and ninety-four were Muggle-born or had Muggle grandparents? Is it also a coincidence that your Dark Lord wanted three hundred new Inferi protecting the waters around Azkaban?” she asked, ignoring the paper in his hand. “I overheard Rowle tell MacCavish about it in the Great Hall the day this article came out.” She pointed at the paper in his hand. “No? Okay, how about the reports that Muggle-born witches are being fed potions to make them sterile? Or that all pure-blood wizards are to marry and start families? Here is an article by Barcus Mordaunt, assistant head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission,” she said as she handed him another paper, folded to the article, “stating that women – witches – should be required to register a verification of their fertility and submit to a formal physical check up with Ministry approved Healers? To improve the wizarding race. Aren’t Mulciber and Mordaunt two of your Death Eater mates?”

“Yeah, people are getting married, so what?” Draco took the paper and glanced at the article. “There is no proof that this sterilization has happened.”

“Okay, it’s only the women’s words against the Ministry and the Healers at St Mungo’s, but even you have to see the correlation between this one. During World War II, all the Jews that the Nazi’s could find were rounded up, put on trains and sent to concentration camps – much like the Muggle-born Registration Commission is doing to all the Muggle-borns and half-bloods. The Nazi’s called this the final solution. Your Muggle-born Registration Commission is calling it the relocation of undesirables and the opponents of the restoration of pure-blood rule over the wizarding community. There is even an article encouraging all ‘rightful members of proper wizarding society to denounce undesirables’ from their families, and rewards are being given for those willing to ‘submit names for segregation.’ Here, it’s on page three.” She dropped the paper on his lap. “There’s a quote by your Aunt Bellatrix that the Dark Lord wants members of his own followers to trim out the undesirable branches that are infesting their family trees – to kill them, Draco. She used the word ‘elimination.’”

Draco’s expression became hard. “I know what my aunt said, and that was taken out of context,” he snapped, tossing the papers on the floor. “You don’t know anything! Fine. You have the books you need. Bye.” He stood up and stormed out of the room.

Hermione sighed and picked up the book she’d been reading, wondering if he’d ever truly see the truth. She stared at the page, visualizing all the students she knew with Muggle relatives and wondering how any of them were faring, or if any of them had been arrested.

At noon, a house-elf popped into the room, quickly placed Hermione’s lunch on the coffee table and vanished. Half an hour later, another house-elf appeared to collect her dishes and vanished. Hermione sighed as she stared out of the window, trying not to cry.

“You have visitors,” Cillian stated from the doorway.

Hermione looked up from her book, still miffed with him that he’d refused to allow her to go to the library. She saw no reason why she couldn’t go, even if Severus wasn’t in the castle. He was, and so was Draco. Except that Draco was mad at her now. “Who is it? Ginny?”

“Yes, and us,” Neville replied with a huge grin as he squeezed by Cillian to enter the room, followed by Terry, Charlene, and Ginny.

Hermione jumped to her feet, surprised by their visit. “Hi. I wanted to ask you…” Charlene started to say, then blushed when she glanced at Cillian and realized that he wasn’t leaving.

“Come in, come in!” Hermione waved her friends over to her by the window.

The shy girl hurried across the room and sat in the chair by the window that Draco had abandoned. “Could you help me with my Transfiguration? Brenna and I are having a hard time. I keep getting Seamus’ feet wrong.”

“Trying to make him into a small mammal? Sure,” Hermione replied. “But why ask me? Lavender is really good at Transfiguration.”

“She’s in hospital again, as is Parvati. They were hexed by Travers yesterday in the corridor by the Ravenclaw common room,” Ginny said, then added softly, “We heard from my brothers.”

Terry and Neville pulled the other two chairs over to the window as Ginny plopped down on the floor, holding a cushion.

“Which ones? You have several?” Hermione asked, watching Cillian from the corner of her eye.

“You know, Fred and George. They said to tell you hello,” Ginny said with a big smile. “They sent me this.” She handed her a slightly singed envelope from George.

Hermione extracted the letter. It was written on the back of a piece of parchment that had a picture of the twins in their magenta robes, holding bright yellow boxes with a wide blue stripes, that had been taken inside the shop. The letter was written in bright green letters at the bottom of the page. Hermione read the letter, smiling at the comments about Fred and Angelina becoming engaged, and the assurances that the family was well. Mrs. Weasley was worried about Ginny because of all the missives she’d received from school. She turned the parchment over and continued reading. No word yet from Ron, but that was expected. Lee was now a full time employee. Remus and Tonks were expecting, as was Fleur. George promised to get Ginny a pair of compacts and helpful hints on secret passages… “Gin, be careful – someone could read this,” she whispered, handing back the letter.

“Won’t do them any good. Watch,” Ginny said with a mischievous smirk and drew her wand. “Missive received,” she whispered while tapping the parchment. The writing changed to that of an advertisement for Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes’ newest Wonderwizard products. “It’s a bunch of things like Anti-Shaving Foam, Nose-Hair and Ear-Hair Chews, Hairy-Body Wash, Love n’ Lucky Deodorant, Stand-on-end Shampoo, and Smoking Cigars and such.” She folded it up and slipped it into her pocket.

“So, are you going to help me?” Charlene asked.

Hermione shrugged. “All right, show me.”

Terry looked like he was going to be sick, but he stood up and faced Charlene with a determined stance. She took aim and said, “Creofficere cunīculus,” with a wide jerky wand movement. Terry shrunk in size, grew whiskers, his nose and ears changed into that of a rabbit’s, and he had fur, but the rest remained the same. He opened his mouth in protest and emitted a high-pitched squeak.

Ginny fell over laughing.

“I’m pitiful,” Charlene moaned while Hermione reversed the peculiar transformation.

Terry swung his arms behind him to stretch and then rolled his head side to side. “I hate that feeling!”

“Too bad you lose your mind when you transform, otherwise it’d be right helpful,” Neville whispered, and Ginny gave him swat on his leg to be quiet.

“It’s your pronunciation and your wand movement,” Hermione said. Hermione repeated the proper pronunciation until Charlene got it right, as Ginny, Terry, and Neville practiced it too. “Good, now the wand movement is a sharp, round flick of the wrist that makes a wide oval.”

“Here,” Ginny said, holding out her wand to Hermione, as both Terry and Neville tried the wand movement.

Cillian glowered at her as Hermione demonstrated the proper sweep of the wand.

“Hermione,” Cillian growled a warning from across the room.

“Relax. It’s not as if I’m going to turn you into a rodent,” she said to Cillian, then demonstrated the movement again for Charlene. It took several demonstrations for Charlene to get the wrist movement down. Terry was still flipping his wrist too much, but Neville finally caught on.

“Now, when you say the words, you have to have the image of the mammal, in this case a rabbit, in your mind, all of it, anatomical parts as well as the external ones. Like this.” Hermione took aim and made the movement, careful to keep her magic reined in. Ginny’s wand seemed to hum slightly as the core reabsorbed the magical energy of the spell. “Now you try.”

Terry squared his shoulders as Charlene stood up and had another go. This time he shrunk half his height, his eyes, nose, ears, and hands changed, was covered with fur, and he actually grew a tail.

“I’m hopeless,” Charlene groaned as Hermione turned Terry back into his human form.

“You’re flourishing your wand too much,” Ginny pointed out, trying to hold back a smile, watching Terry stretching his neck and jaw.

“You almost had him that time,” Hermione said encouragingly.

Charlene then tried the spell again, this time with little more success. “I did it! But he looks like a rat!”

“Well, he looks more like a deformed opossum,” Ginny pointed out as Hermione reversed the spell. “I think you should know that we are still recruiting,” Ginny whispered to Hermione. “Neville and I sneaked down to a room near the kitchens to meet up with some of the Hufflepuff DA recruits. Unfortunately, we got caught by Amycus sneaking back to the dorm, but it wasn’t too bad.”

Neville simply shrugged as if it hadn’t been anything at all. “Yeah, Seamus and Janilynn meet with Luna and Michael and the new Ravenclaw DA members in a classroom near the Ravenclaw tower. Seamus covered for Janilynn so she could get away when they were stopped by Alecto. He was given a detention with Filch. Seamus told me all the Ravenclaw members still have their DA Galleons.”

Charlene tried transfiguring Terry again. This time with better results, except that he was three feet tall.

“You need to watch yourselves, especially now with all the Death Eaters in the castle. You know it’s not safe, right?” Hermione warned them as she reversed the spell.

“Neville has been making sure all members still have their DA Galleons, and I’ve been making more for the new members,” Ginny said softly.

Suddenly, from down below in the Headmaster’s office, Alecto’s shrill voice could be heard. “They’re sneaking out at lunch and at night, leaving their graffiti on the walls. There was more contraband smuggled into the castle, and we still don’t know how they did that! You are not preventing the defacement of the walls, and the students are still skiving my classes.”

Neville leaned toward Hermione. “People are still having outbreaks of fevers, boils, nose bleeds, and various hexes. The hospital is overflowing.”

Hermione was shocked as her friends moved closer to the stairs. “They’re still skiving class? Even after Severus’ warnings?”

“Of course, wouldn’t you, if you didn’t have to answer to Professor Snape?” Terry asked, straining to hear what was being said in the office below.

“Hardly anyone was in Muggle Studies or Dark Arts yesterday. I forecast it will be the same Monday,” Ginny said with a smirk.

Down in the office, Alecto was starting to sputter as she continued to rant. “Enough of this, Alecto,” Severus shouted. “I’ve had enough of your tantrum. If you are not able to conduct your classes, I’m sure that a replacement can be found.” There was a pause before he added, “Students with Skiving Snackbox symptoms or caught in open defiance or defacing property will be given detention with Filch.”

“He’ll be delighted,” Hermione heard Cillian sneer.

“He has better means of discipline. Using the chains and shackles for gross insubordination—” Amycus started to say, but Severus cut him off.

“That is pending approval by the school governors and the Dark Lord.” His voice grew softer. Hermione sucked in her breath. She knew about the rumors of those chains, everyone did. She strained to hear, but Severus had a tendency to lower his voice when really angry, and his voice wasn’t carrying well to where they stood.

“I know it’s that Longbottom boy – he’s their leader,” Amycus snarled, stammering a bit in anger. “It’s on the walls – it’s him doin’ it.”

“How do you know it’s him?” Cillian asked.

“Of course it’s him!” Alecto snapped. “Those words were just put up – the paint, or whatever they are using, is still fresh!”

“Not today he didn’t,” Cillian answered calmly. “Besides, MacCavish took charge today. I can’t say when the vandalism was done, but Longbottom and his friends were being watched, and you know MacCavish, Rowle, and Travers were tailing them.”

Hermione turned to glance at her friends. That’s why he kept me here.

Alecto protested, “He defaced the walls with those—”

“Couldn’t have. He’s here,” Cillian stated, and Hermione sucked in her breath.

She’d hoped to get her friends out without any confrontation.

Severus stern response of, “Here?” made her swallow with nervousness.

“He’s been here with Hermione all afternoon, ever since lunch. Mr. Boot, Miss Weston, and Miss Weasley, too,” Cillian said. “MacCavish escorted them here himself.”

The sound of Severus’ boots on the stairs made her grab Ginny’s and Terry’s arms to draw them away before they were caught eavesdropping.

Severus entered the room and glared at her and her friends. “You, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Boot, you will both report to Mr. Filch’s office. Mr. Gwynek, make sure they get there.”

Cillian nodded and motioned the boys leave with him.

Severus turned his attention to the girls. “Miss Weston, I suggest you leave.”

Charlene rushed past Severus and down the stairs as Severus blocked Ginny from doing the same. “Miss Weasley, you’ll wait in my office for my return. Do not leave,” he said with a deadly cool tone.

Ginny nodded, quietly followed him down the stairs, and she waited with Hermione in the Headmaster’s office while Severus followed the Carrows out. When the door closed, she turned to face Hermione and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “George told me how to get out of the castle. With all the Death Eater’s in Hogsmeade, the one-eyed witch passage is out, as is the one under the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack, but just down the corridor from Binns’ old office is a staircase that has a large crack in the wall near the base of the stairs. That’s why Charlene and Seamus have been practicing turning me into a rat. If either of them gets it right, I should fit through just fine, and they will turn me back.”

Hermione was alarmed by Ginny’s determination to leave the school, and she didn’t understand why Charlene and Seamus were helping Ginny and not Lavender. Hermione leaned close to Ginny and whispered, “But I know Lavender can do the spell, why won’t she—”

Ginny turned her head. “Lavender’s in a bad way. She’ll be in the hospital at least two weeks if not longer,” Ginny whispered back.

“So, wait!” Hermione touched Ginny’s arm in alarm and leaned close to her ear. “Neither Seamus nor Charlene can do it, Gin!”

Ginny shrugged nonchalantly and turned her head so she could answer in a whisper. “Then I’ll ask Claudia Ramirez to do it or see if Della Maggiora or Immodine Clearwater can… They’re in your class right? Anyway, the plan is for Terry, Michael, and Ernie to cause a diversion elsewhere, and Neville is going to stand watch…”

“Gin, just don’t get caught, all right?” Hermione whispered in Ginny’s ear.

“Oh, right, like we won’t be careful.” Ginny paced the office, looking at the portraits while Hermione sat comfortably in one of the chairs. “So, do you think they’re really asleep?” she asked, walking along the bookshelf behind Severus’ desk.

Hermione looked up at the sleeping portraits. “I suppose so, they are normally like that.”

She lifted down Gryffindor’s Sword and admired the engraving on it again. “This really is beautiful. Imagine, all these years, and it looks like new.”

“I’m sure it’s been well cared for,” Hermione said, pointedly ignoring Professor Black’s grumble about impertinent students taking such liberties with the Headmaster’s artifacts. Hermione pointed at his picture as she placed a finger on her lips.

Ginny turned to face Hermione, still holding the sword in front of her. “I checked in the library, and I was right; goblin-made steel will imbibe things that make it stronger.” She looked closer at the blade, and Hermione hoped she wouldn’t cut herself. “So, since Harry killed the Basilisk with this, it must have absorbed some of the Basilisk venom!”

“You and I know he did,” Hermione said, wondering why Ginny was so curious about whether the sword had imbibed the venom.

“Harry used a fang to kill the thing in the diary…” The girls both turned their heads toward the door at the sound of stone grating against stone. Ginny quickly put the sword back on its mount and stood with her hands behind her back as Severus opened his door.

Severus narrowed his eyes at Ginny standing behind his desk.

“Ginny was admiring the sword again,” Hermione confessed. “It really is an amazing artifact.”

“Yes, it is. Miss Weasley, how are your brothers’ products getting into the castle? Never mind,” he said, holding up his hand when Ginny opened her mouth to protest. “I’m certain you’ll only tell me you have no idea. Tell them this from me: If I find out – so will the Dark Lord. He is already aware of their extensive inventory, and the shop is being watched. Just because they’re being allowed to remain open, doesn’t mean that they’re not above suspicion – none of your family is. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Ginny replied, trying to look sincere.

“You may go,” Severus stated.

Ginny waved good-bye to Hermione and let herself out. Severus sighed and turned to leave.

Hermione rose to follow him. “Severus, it isn’t fair to punish Neville and Terry. They didn’t do anything,” Hermione stated, but he was already at the stairs.

“Leave it, Hermione; I’m tired,” he said as he mounted the first step.

She placed a hand on his arm. “The Carrows – they blame everything on Neville, and it’s not—”

He turned around. “It’s insubordination, Hermione, and I cannot simply allow the students to skive off lessons without there being consequences…”

“I know that,” she admitted.

“… and I certainly can’t allow them to deface school property. If you defy authority, there are consequences. If you break the rules, destroy, or deface school property, you are punished for it. Your friends are the ones causing trouble.”

“But they—”

“And if I can’t get control of them, things can and will get ugly. Do you want that, Hermione? Because I can get ugly,” he sneered, turned, and bounded up the stairs for the sitting room.

“What about the chains and shackles?” Hermione asked as she followed after him. “You can’t mean to allow Filch to use them on students? Severus, you can’t!”

He turned when he realized she was standing behind him. “Of course, he could. So far I’ve been lenient, but that can’t last for long unless your friends – this Dumbledore’s Army – cease their shenanigans and—”

“But you didn’t even try to single out who did it,” she said, inadvertently interrupting him. “The Carrows—”

“Want to control the punishments. Who else would write Dumbledore’s Army on the wall other than those in the group? The Dark Lord wants me to get control of the school, and the students that are rebelling,” he stated flatly.

“But those chains – they’re barbaric!” she pleaded.

“Give me a little credit, Hermione. He isn’t using them on your friends today – they are cleaning the graffiti off the walls instead. But believe me, Filch has much worse than mere shackles and chains. Now drop it,” he snarled, turned and disappeared up the stairs to the bedroom.

Hermione watched him go in surprise. So that’s why he escorted them down to Filch’s office, so Filch wouldn’t put Neville and Terry in chains? If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was showing his protective side again. She hurried up stairs to ask him, realizing he had stripped on the way to the bathroom, and heard the water in the shower running.

She quickly stripped her robes and entered the shower.

Severus had his head bowed as he let the water pour over his back, his hands on the wall. She pulled the flannel off the towel bar and picked up the soap. He turned his head, straightening up when he realized she was behind him. “What do you want?” he asked, turning to face her.

“Hands up,” she said, holding the flannel in one hand and his soap in the other.

“This isn’t going to change my mind.” He raised one eyebrow as he placed one hand up on either side of the shower, watching her as she lathered up the flannel then started to wash his front.

“What would?”

“Hermione.”

Looking up at him, she made slow circles with the flannel on his stomach. “I remember when you barked at me to do this for you,” she said.

His stomach muscles tightened when she ran her finger over the scar. “I was hurt and needed your assistance.”

She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I know. It terrified me to see you hurt.”

He smirked as she worked her way down, avoiding his groin, and washed his legs. “So, if not to use your wiles on me to change my mind, why the special treatment?”

“I wanted to,” she said softly, looking up at him from a crouched position. His penis twitched as Hermione slowly worked her way up, swirling her fingers on his skin until she stood in front of him again. “Okay, turn around – backside.” With a slight narrowing of his eyes, he complied, placing his hands on the wall ahead of him. A low moan escaped his throat as Hermione washed his back, dragging her nails on his skin softly with the soap. Hermione grinned mischievously as she secured his hands to the tiles with a wandless charm and continued to wash him.

Severus’ eyes closed in pleasure as her hand slid around to his groin, and she gently caressed his length. A small laugh escaped as he turned his head, trying to look at her. “You aren’t going to break it.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said, standing slightly behind him to his right as she started rubbing her soapy hand between his legs and fondling his balls from behind. Reaching around with her other hand, she stroked his penis.

“Stop,” he said, trying to move his hands. “No. Hermione, release me,” he demanded, trying to pull his hands free. The warning tone, almost a growl, would have normally frightened her, but she felt empowered knowing that he was helpless under her hands.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, smirking as she slid her hand between his legs again, stroking his balls as her other hand caressed his length. His sharp intake of breath thrilled her. “You really want me to stop this?” she asked, giving him a slight squeeze.

He growled, although his penis jerked in her hand, and his eyes were clouded with lust. “No. Don’t do that,” he said throatily.

“Don’t do what, this?” she asked, withdrawing her hand slowly, palm first, gliding her fingers over his balls. “Or this,” sliding her fingers forward until she could grasp the base of his penis.

“Merlin’s balls,” he growled throatily, his eyes closing slightly, and his head rolled back.

“No, your balls, actually,” she purred. She kept repeating the action several times, watching him to ensure he liked what she was doing in spite of his demands to cease. His knees bent as his hands pressed more firmly against the wall, and his sac in her hand seemed to tighten up. He made a deep, feral growl as he came in her hand, shooting against the shower wall. She released her charm as his seed washed away down the drain.

He grabbed her around her waist and pulled her onto his lap as he said, “Tease.”

“But you looked like you liked it!” she exclaimed, her voice rising a bit when his fingers stroked her side.

“Oh, I liked it; but why did you?” He was grinning contentedly, but the lust in his eyes was making her squirm.

“Payback, I suppose,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

His mouth descended to her breast. “For?”

“How you make me feel; what you do to me,” she replied. He moved her legs, turning her back to him, and making her straddle him with one leg on either side of his.

“Hmm,” he purred against her ear as his hand slid to her groin. “My turn.” Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as his fingers found her clit, and he kissed her neck.

Because of Ginny’s plan of having either Seamus or Charlene help her sneak out of the castle to get the mirrors, Hermione spent as many evenings as she could in the common room, helping them practice transforming each other into squirrels. Hermione thought that being a squirrel would be better for Ginny in case she needed to climb over anything, and the form would suffice for when Professor McGonagall switched to rodents next week. That, and Charlene liked squirrels much better than rats.

Seamus was doing much better, even if he didn’t get the size quite right, but he had a hard time reversing the spell. Charlene was trying, and definitely understood the concept and theory, but she had trouble with the spell.

Unfortunately, Ginny was stuck mid-transformation, again, and Cillian had to carry her to the hospital wing to have her sorted out. However, Ginny already had to go to the hospital wing the day before to have Madam Pomfrey sort her out, as well as two days before that, so today’s accident really upset the Healer. “Mrs. Snape, you may go,” the Healer snapped.

Hermione nodded, turned on her heel, and slowly walked out of the room. Cillian caught up to her by the time she’d slipped out the door. “Leaving without me?” he snarled.

She turned her head to look at him. “I was walking slowly, and you heard Madam Pomfrey, she dismissed me.”

“There is no real application for that spell except to get rid of someone. It’s not at all like Animagus transformation,” he said.

Hermione had no intention of telling him why it was so important.

She’d been reading a lot about Animagus transformation, the spell, and the forms one could assume. There was a lot of speculation regarding how one could predetermine their animal form. Some said it would be the same as their Patronus, others said it was one’s animal spirit manifesting itself in the transformation, and some used tealeaves. If it was the same as their Patronuses, she’d be an otter, but Ginny would be a horse. Definitely too large to fit through a crack in a wall. Hermione had frequently wondered when James, Peter, and Sirius had learned how to transform into their Animagi forms. She looked up at Cillian and shrugged. “No, there isn’t, it’s like turning someone you hate into a toad.”

“Precisely,” he growled, “so why do it? You manage it well enough in class, but other than that – I didn’t think you were the type, and certainly not the kids you hang around with. They are all the…” He paused as if searching for the word he wanted. “Nice kids. Sure they do a few defacements and are somewhat defiant, but they’re do-gooders.”

Hermione pretended to think on what he said before saying, “It’s taught in class, and it’s fun doing spell work with my friends.”

He frowned, dragged her back to the Headmaster’s office, and told Severus that he needed some time to himself; then he turned and slammed the door closed.

“Do you mind telling me what you did to anger him?” Severus asked.

“Ginny got hurt, and he carried her to the hospital.” Hermione shrugged. “We were practicing a Transfiguration Charm in the small classroom on the fourth floor. I think he was annoyed about it.”

Severus’ dark eyes narrowed as the studied her face. “Go up stairs and read something. I’ll ask Cillian later.”

Hermione turned on her heel slowly and walked as casually as she could across the office, knowing he was still glaring at her behind her back. She knew that he’d find out what happened from Madam Pomfrey, but at least she hadn’t lied to him.

Friday in Transfiguration, they had to demonstrate changing each other into mammals again for Professor McGonagall. Draco easily did the spell, changed her into a ferret again, but Hermione wished he hadn’t turned her back into herself so quickly. She found she really enjoyed the feeling of being a ferret, even more than Draco hated it. Lavender was still in the hospital, but Hermione knew she’d be able to do it once she was out. Seamus and Parvati were doing much better, both doing the transformation well enough, and Charlene even managed the spell, even if Parvarti looked more like a large possum with a snub tail than a rabbit. Hermione noticed that some of the students couldn’t do the reversal right. Hermione helped Isabel reverse the spell on her twin sister, Morag MacDougal, before it was their turn to demonstrate it, and then helped Daphne Greengrass turn Adriana Whitehall back into herself, even complimenting Daphne on how well she managed the transformation.

“What, didn’t you think a pure-blood could do it, Mudblood?” Blaise Zabini asked, and Pansy snickered.

“Nah, Daphne is just slumming, hoping that the Mudblood could become acceptable just because she’s hand-fasted to the Headmaster.”

“She’s now his wife,” Adriana stated, and Daphne touched her arm in warning. Adriana turned to look at Daphne. “He was Head of our house for fifteen years, and regardless of her status, she would’ve been accepted as a Slytherin consort if it weren’t for this war.”

“She will never be acceptable,” Pansy sneered at Daphne.

“Pansy, you and I both know that the Dark Lord walked her down the aisle. He gave her away to Professor Snape,” Daphne said her tone cool and aloof. “Our code dedicates that we accept her if only for that one reason, never mind that she is hand-fasted to our ex-Head of House.”

“Well, I don’t! And you’re a fool if you believe that the Dark Lord approves of her. He gave her to Professor Snape as a toy – an amusement,” Pansy sneered. “And nothing else.”

“Is there a problem, girls?” Professor McGonagall asked, walking over to them.

“No, Professor,” Daphne and Adriana said as Pansy turned and walked away.

When the bell rang, Hermione collected her things and followed Cillian from the classroom. Theodore Nott and Glenwynn caught up to them before they reached the stairs. “Mrs. Snape, thank you for helping them,” he said politely.

“Daphne and Adriana?” Hermione asked, surprised and confused by his gratitude. It was the first time he’d ever spoken to her.

“Yeah,” he said.

Hermione shrugged. No, Daphne usually wasn’t; but then the Slytherin girls had always been rude to me – except this year. Glenwynne’s friends are much nicer… friendly… “No problem, I was glad to help,” Hermione said.

“Not all of us in Slytherin think like Pansy does,” Glenwynn stated, getting a warning glance from Nott. “In fact, Daphne shouldn’t have said what she did, but it’s true. Well, it was before this war. You understand, right?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, well, I suppose I do. I mean, you Slytherins are more formal about traditions than the other houses,” she said as she started walking up the stairs.

Glenwynn fell into step with her, and Nott and Cillian followed.

“Severus and Cillian have tried to tell me about some of the formalities, but I don’t know all of them very well,” Hermione admitted, remembering Cillian’s reaction about her extending the invitations to the tea to include her friends.

Glenwynn smiled. “Don’t worry, Hermione, I’ll guide you when necessary. But do be careful around Pansy; she’s still jealous that Malfoy spends his time with you. In fact, they’re not together this year, and she’s unhappy about it. I think Zabini is trying to woo her. Are you headed to the library? I’m supposed to meet my friends; you can join us if you’d like?”

Hermione shrugged and joined Glenwynn, Felicia, and Daphne at one of the large tables in the library. When Glenwynn and Felicia got up to retrieve books, Hermione asked Daphne why she was being friendly with her this year. “I thought you were friends with Pansy and Millicent? You always snubbed me before, and now it’s like you’re completely different.”

“Parkinson and Bulstrode are keeping company with Zabini and Crabbe these days. I’m afraid I’m a gooseberry,” Daphne stated. “Besides, I’m not on good terms with Crabbe anymore.”

“But Crabbe and Goyle are Draco’s mates, aren’t they?” Hermione asked, curious.

Daphne shook her head. “No, well, Goyle occasionally hangs around Malfoy, but Crabbe is now mates with Zabini, and Mr. Bulstrode and Crabbe’s father are in negotiations for Crabbe to marry Millicent when they leave Hogwarts in June.”

Hermione turned around to glance at the Slytherins, turning back quickly when Crabbe glared at her. “So that’s why Goyle looks lost half the time,” she remarked.

Felicia set down an armload of books as Daphne said, “Yep, so you have noticed.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Hermione said.

“So has Theodore,” Daphne said with a smirk.

Hermione didn’t know why Nott wouldn’t, he was in Slytherin, but what confused her was why Daphne mentioned it. She drew her book closer to read the text, her mind pondering the implications of Daphne’s words. Nott noticed a rift between Draco and Goyle. Why would he care? He wasn’t mates with either bloke as far as I could tell. And why isn’t Daphne on good terms with Pansy or Crabbe anymore? Is it because she was now friends with Glenwynn, Felicia, Tracey, and Adriana? She used to be friends with Pansy, McFaul, and Millicent. Just like the sixth-year girls: Astoria, Catherine, Amanda, and Jean are friends, where as Baddock, Pritchard, and Cavish are… Slytherin is divided! This war has divided Slytherin!

She looked up and saw Ravenclaws Isabel and Morag MacDougal talking to Glenwynn. They were leaning forward, heads slightly drawn together as if whispering. Interesting.

When the bell tolled for the end of the last class period, Cillian got up from his chair by the door and walked over to stand behind Hermione. “Time to go,” he stated.

Hermione was already packing up her things. Glenwynn, Felicia, and Daphne packed up as well, walking with Hermione as they left the library, chatting about the next phase of the animal transformations – human to medium-sized mammal transformation. “I hope she lets us do cats,” Felicia stated. “I love cats.”

“Tried that – the hairballs are horrible. I may opt for a dog,” Hermione stated, getting a sudden shiver down her spine as she recalled her Polyjuice mishap five years ago.

“You did it already?! When?” Daphne asked, clearly shocked by the pronouncement. The other two girls looked just as astounded.

“In my second year…” Hermione didn’t really want to explain how she changed into a cat, but she couldn’t have them just believe that she’d mastered the complicated transformation either.

“You can show us how to do the transformation,” Daphne suggested, clearly eager to give the spell a go.

Hermione blushed, unable to meet the girl’s eyes. “It wasn’t the spell – it was Polyjuice… I mistook cat hairs for human and turned into a huge cat.”

To her surprise, Daphne smiled, amused, but didn’t laugh at her. “An honest mistake, I’m sure… Wait!” she exclaimed, stopping suddenly and looking at her in shock. “You brewed Polyjuice Potion – in your second year?”

Hermione was certain that her face was glowing red; her cheeks felt like they were flaming hot. “Well, yes…” She was just about to explain when she heard a loud shriek of, “Cillian!” from the bottom to the stairs that led to the second floor.

“Shite,” he swore and quickly drew Glenwynn aside. “Take Hermione back to the library. Don’t let any of the security officers or the Carrows see her. I’ll be there shortly – and run,” he ordered the stunned girl. Glenwynn nodded and grasped Hermione’s arm to draw her away, Felicia and Daphne closing in behind them.

“But why?” Hermione asked Cillian over her shoulder.

“If my sister is here on the second floor, that can only mean trouble. Let me see what she wants and warn Severus,” he replied and hurried down the steps as the girls pulled Hermione away with them.

Cillian raced down the stairs as quickly as he could. He had known that Belinda was supposed to come to Hogwarts that afternoon; he’d even tried to avoid her. He didn’t want to be reminded of the matchmaking she was doing for him, well, to him. She was still hell bent on him marrying the Roquewood chit.

She supposedly came to pick up some parchments from Severus for the Dark Lord, and he’d hoped that she’d just leave after. In fact, Severus had arranged a meeting with the security officers that afternoon and then one with Filch afterwards so he wouldn’t have to entertain her.

However, there she was, lurking on the second floor landing, not a stone’s throw from the stone gargoyle to Severus’ office. “Bell,” he said in greeting. “I thought you’d gone.”

“Not a chance, I wasn’t going to miss seeing my baby brother. It’s been ages!” she exclaimed.

“It’s been two weeks, Bell,” he reminded her. “You insisted that I come down to have drinks with you at the Three Broomsticks, remember?”

“Oh, and we must do that again real soon,” she purred, looping her arm with his and trying to steer him toward the gargoyle. “How about tomorrow?”

“I am busy, Bell,” he stated as he, instead, steered her toward the stairs. He managed to overpower her enough to make her walk down the stairs with him, ignoring her petulant pout. “And I’m pretty sure that Severus is otherwise occupied.”

“I was thinking that we could do lunch: you, me, Larissa Roquewood, and maybe Severus,” she said coyly with a girlish smile.

He snorted, sneering at her tactics. They never had the effect on him she thought they did. “As you know, Severus is running a school and has his wife residing with him in his tower. And I have to be in the castle, not out entertaining some girl,” he stated firmly as he escorted her to the Entrance Hall.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Larissa Roquewood’s a lovely young woman. Why just the other day she mentioned that Sylvester Rosier, Junior had shown an interest in her.”

Good! He can have her. “I will try to make arrangements with Severus, but don’t count on my attending unless I send you word that I can. I mean it, Bell,” he warned her sternly. Not that it ever did any good. “Don’t drag the girl here if I tell you I can’t go.”

Belinda stopped and turned to face him, her expression now angry. “If you don’t make an effort she’s going to chose someone else. The girl is pretty, wealthy, well connected, and wants to be married. What is your problem? You can’t do better.”

I have done better. “I’ll think about it, Bell.”

“Now, how about I join you and Severus for dinner?” she asked in her going-to-pretend-to-be-pleasant voice.

Cillian laughed at her. “Sure, only Severus will be seated in the center of the staff table in the Headmaster’s chair. I’m sure Professor Hagrid would love to have you sit on the end by him, or you could sit next to Professor Hooch – unless you want to sit with Hermione and me at the Gryffindor table.”

Her smile instantly faded. “Fine,” she snapped and turned to leave. “I will expect you next Saturday, then.”

“Don’t count on it,” he grumbled as he watched her exit the castle, her shoulders back and her back rigid. Smirking, he ran up to the library, taking the stairs two at a time to retrieve Hermione.

Author’s notes:

The bits about the Holocaust were from a discussion my beta, EverMystic, and I had, quoting stuff from several places on the internet we were using while deciding which points Hermione might use. Unfortunately, I didn’t keep all my references.

The Latin used, Creofficere cunīculus, comes for the Norte Dame English to Latin translator that I always use:

creo:to make, create, produce; to elect to an office

efficere: to do , produce, effect, make; of results, [to bring about, cause

cunīculus: a rabbit , cony