Transitions and Standstills

A huge thank you to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood for reading this over for me and to EverMystique and Dandru 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.

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~o 30 o~

Transitions and Standstills

Severus woke up before the dawn just as he had ever since he was a little boy. It was rare that he could lie in. He turned his head and smiled. Hermione was curled up next to him, her head practically on the same pillow. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and she stirred slightly, snuggling in closer. Her movement stirred the ginger-haired fur ball at her feet. The cat uncurled itself, stretched, gave him a rueful glance, and then jumped off the foot of the bed onto her trunk, then to the floor. Severus was convinced that the bloody cat could do magic; no matter what he tried to keep the cat out, the cat always managed to creep in at night and curl up at Hermione's feet. At least he kept to her side of the bed, and thankfully, he was not the mewing kind.

He turned to look at his witch again and recalled their conversation from the previous morning. He'd all but told her which side he was on, and he hoped she'd conceal it behind one of her hidden doors. If not, he'd simply tell the Dark Lord that he was trying to sway her into revealing what she knew about the DA or Potter's whereabouts. It had infuriated him when he'd realized that she was hiding things from him, especially activities that he knew about, and it made him constantly wonder what else she kept from him. Not knowing could cost him if the Dark Lord could break through her defenses. But he'd not seen any of her hidden doors in the castle in her mind, nor felt them when he'd mentally swept the castle walls. She was good; it was strong, and it irritated him. He didn't like it at all that she was keeping secrets from him.

He lay on his back and tried to think about how to get her to confide in him. The first time she'd blatantly lied to him was when she'd disappeared for an entire morning in November. She'd told him that she'd been in her house-elf's bedroom. The house-elves didn't have bedrooms; there was a dormitory for them off the kitchen with fifty twin-sized three-tiered bunk beds lined up in a row, each bunk had its own individual curtain and a small trunk on the foot of each bed. The Hogwarts house-elves all thought it was the most luxurious living situation in the entire world. Some of them even had hat boxes, small crates, or cigar boxes to hold personal items in their bunks. Quite a few of them even had pets, obtained by a myriad of means.

Undoubtedly, Peren had been given a bunk, and she was as content as any of the house-elves. So, that meant Hermione had either been in the house-elf dormitory, which was strictly forbidden, or had been wandering somewhere in the castle unescorted. He'd been furious with her – it still irritated him when he thought about it.

And now, she had mirrors – two way mirrors. Just like the ones Potter and Black had when they were students. He wondered who had the twin. Ginevra? That was the most likely person, unless she'd figured out a way to get one to Potter. Which meant Hermione knew where he was, or how to reach the boy. Severus could feel his blood pressure rise at the thought.

Dumbledore's portrait wanted him to give the sword to Potter – insisted more like. He knew that Potter had the cursed locket, possibly the cup. Hermione hadn't said so, but her expression when they talked about the Dark Lord's artifacts indicated that the boy might have the cursed cup. Potter needed the sword. The objects had to be destroyed before the curses on them damaged the boy as the ring had Dumbledore's hand. They had no idea what curses the Dark Lord knew or what depravity the Dark Lord could conceive. But Severus did; he knew it well. He'd seen the Dark Lord's creative side numerous times. And, if the boy had the cursed items and the curses were anything like the ones on the ring... He shuddered at the thought.

Severus turned his head to look at Hermione again.

Somehow, he was going to have to get her to tell him Potter's whereabouts, or trick her into taking him to the boy. No, he wanted her trust and to get her to open up to him. Only he was horribly out of practice with being open to someone with whom he had a relationship. The only open, well open-ish relationship he'd had with anyone ended with her throwing him over for his most hated nemesis.

He turned his head and stared up at the canopy of the bed again.

He needed to talk to Cillian about how to gain Hermione's trust and her confidence so she'd tell him how to find Potter. But until Cillian finally came around, that was next to impossible. He couldn't tip his hand to his best friend yet. Damn. It was one thing to talk about the girls – several of their brethren kept undesirable girls as playthings – but it was another matter altogether to even hint that he wanted to help Potter.

Not only that, but he needed Cillian's help in protecting the students on the bloody list. Dumbledore's Army. The rebellious students who were only standing up for what they thought was right. Severus secretly agreed, punishments were one thing, discipline a necessity, adherence to the rules... but torturing kids? That was wrong. So far he'd been able to keep the Carrows and Filch in line, but they were finding ways to bend his rules regarding discipline and that irked him. He needed someone on the inside of Longbottom's group. He knew that Hermione could gain their trust, but with Cillian following her all the time, Longbottom, Finnigan and Ginevra would never trust him unless he could prove to be on their side.

So, he needed to get Cillian to change sides, needed find out how to get Hermione to confide in him, and needed get Potter the sword before the curses on the locket or the cup destroyed the boy. It was imperative, and time was of the essence. And it felt like time was running out.

He had some planning to do.

As he did most mornings, Severus levitated Hermione to her side of the bed and put his pillow under her arm. She pulled the pillow tightly to her and settled without waking.

He rolled out of bed, dressed, enjoyed a cup of breakfast tea in his sitting room while watching the sun rise, and then went to his office.

No sooner had he begun to organize the numerous amounts of parchmentwork involved with running the school, including the requests and demands of the school governors and pacifying the same numerous complaints of the angry parents, than the bell on his desk tolled. "Enter," he barked, and Cillian opened the door.

"I had to warn you as soon as I heard. You had best be ready for some backlash," he said as he walked to Severus' desk. "Nearly every raid on the Muggle-born homes in the last few days has proven disastrous." He placed his fists on the desk and leaned on them. "He's furious. Most of the homes were empty. Many of the neighbors when questioned said that the families were on holiday or traveling. Only three of the residences raided were successful; the Muggle-born targets were at home, and the families eliminated."

"That's not uncommon. Muggles like to vacation over the holidays," Severus said, trying to appear unperturbed by the news as he set the latest parchments from the governors to the side to deal with later. "Welcome back."

"Thanks. The Dark Lord wants another copy of the School Registry, just the kids from age two to ten. No point giving him the list of the current students," Cillian stated, his brow furrowed obviously perplexed, and sat in the chair in front of the desk. "He doesn't seem to blame you, or the librarian, but he wants current copies of the pages so he knows where the kids are now. However, he's in a rage over this. Runcorn was tortured severely with the Cruciatus, and he killed Adolph Blackalter because he thought he gave Runcorn the wrong entries of the Magical Birth Registry."

"Thank you for the warning," Severus said and leaned back in his chair. "The copies won't update the child's location like the School Registry does. It's possible that they were visiting relatives, at some vacation spot, moved, traveling or whatever Muggle families do this time of year."

"Bellatrix is screaming for your hide," Cillian warned him.

"I'm quaking in my boots," Severus sneered, then smirked. "She cannot possibly blame her failures on me. Muggles are notorious for going places and moving about. Most of those children are in Muggle schools. I have no idea when Muggle schools have their Christmas holidays." Severus looked at Cillian soberly. "So how are things at home? Did you have a nice visit?"

"Mum and Dad are practically comatose. They're all right, nothing that they can't recover from with a good Healer, but Belinda keeps them under the Imperious. Justin's livid about it, but Marc says it's for their own good. I hate it, but at least they're alive. How are things here?" Cillian answered with a smirk.

"The same as most mornings, the usual complaints to deal with and numerous demands on my time," Severus stated with a sweep of his hand over his correspondences, "including recopying the School Registry. Hermione is still asleep. Would you like some coffee?"

"I'd love a cup," Cillian said, turning quickly when they heard a soft pop over in the corner of the office. His shoulders relaxed when he realized that they were alone. "Peren?"

"Yes. She's a very efficient house-elf," Severus said as Peren reappeared carrying a tray with coffee service for two.

"And how is Hermione?" Cillian asked. "You've been angry at her about something for a while now."

"Resolved," Severus said, then scowled at Cillian's smug quirk of his eyebrow. "She's hiding things from me, and I don't like it."

"Can't be much, I'm watching her all the time," Cillian stated, adding half a spoon of sugar to his coffee and stirring it once. "Trust me; she's not involved in any of the mischief."

"That's a relief," Severus said and sipped his coffee. "But I still have to get her to confide in me."

Cillian smirked at him over the rim of his mug. "With witches, it's a two-way street. If you don't confide in her, she won't confide in you."

Severus merely grunted.

"Sorry ol' bat, that's the way they are," Cillian said smugly. "I'm afraid you'll have to make her believe that you are confiding in her to gain that trust."

Which I can't do, can I? Severus thought. "There are things she can't know."

"Yes, but there are things you can tell her," Cillian said and then paused, his head tilting as sounds came from upstairs. "Speaking of the witch, it must be time for breakfast."

"Apparently," Severus said as Hermione entered his office in her school clothes and greeted them politely.

~*~

The Quibbler arrived with the morning post on Thursday and was dropped like pamphlets on each of the House tables. The front of The Quibbler had several pictures, much like the Daily Prophet usually did these days, of Harry, Ron, Dean, and now Colin and Dennis Creevey. However, on the Daily Prophet, Harry's and Ron's pictures were more prominently placed than the others were. Harry's picture was emblazoned with a banner that read: Undesirable Number One. On the bottom of Ron's picture, it read: Undesirable Number Two. Below the pictures, pulsating letters read: Armed, demented, and dangerous fugitives – reward offered for any information leading to the capture of these criminal wizards.

~H~

Hermione exited the bathroom after her Herbology lesson at the end of the day, wrapped in a towel with the corner tucked in tightly to keep it in place and her hair still damp. She looked up in surprise upon seeing Severus sitting on the bed, waiting for her. "Oh, you startled me," she said, then smiled as she clasped the towel to make sure the twist stayed firmly in place.

"How was your lesson?" he asked as she walked confidently to the wardrobe.

"It was fun," Hermione said as she pulled out some clean clothes. "We were..."

"No, don't tell me; hide it," he replied. "I want to see if I can find the memory."

Hermione nodded as she pulled her knickers up under the towel, trying to decide how best to sort the memory. She hadn't needed to create a hidden greenhouse or a hidden door for her Herbology memories because nothing that went on in her lessons needed hiding. Neville, Hannah, and Ernie never talked about anything of import in class because Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson were always at the next workbench, watching and trying to listen in on their conversations. She looked up at Severus and frowned; he was smirking at her as she pulled on her jeans. "What?"

"Your modesty amuses me," he said, reaching out and pulling her towel off her.

She immediately turned her back on him to hide her embarrassment and then scoffed at herself for doing so. "Really?" she replied as she fastened her zip. She put on her bra, then pulled on her blouse and faced him.

He watched her with his intense stare as his eyes scrutinized her movements. "Are you ready?" he asked when she finished fastening the buttons.

"No," she admitted and swallowed, trying to sort her thoughts for the inevitable invasion. "I don't have a hidden part for what happens in Herbology."

"All right then," he said, standing up to face her. "Legilimens."

She barely had time to brace herself. He pushed, searching her mind. She had no idea what he was looking for, so she simply maintained the castle she'd constructed in her mind, allowing him to traverse corridors. Memories flashed quickly, images of Ginny, Harry, and Ron. Although most of the memories of Ginny were current, those of Harry and Ron were not. There was a picture of Harry in the newspaper, a flash of Harry disheveled from a flight, another of him after the fight in the Ministry of Magic her fifth year, then a quick one of him with broken glasses and his hair in his eyes, and then the article in The Quibbler. She slammed the door closed and swayed on her feet. He hadn't looked for anything related to Herbology at all.

"Again," he said and entered her mind without warning. This time his focus seemed to be on her interactions with Ginny and Jenny. Thankfully, all the important memories were hidden carefully behind her tiny house-elf door to the common room and the imagined tiny door to their dorm room so he didn't find anything she didn't want him to know about. When he broke contact, he crossed his arms, frowning at her, standing there staring at her, waiting, and a tic flicking in his cheek from clenching and grinding his teeth.

"What?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

He looked at her thoughtfully through narrow, penetrating eyes. "There are no memories of you with Miss Weasley up in her dorm room," he stated.

She gaped at him. "So?"

He lips stretched into an exasperated grimace. "I know you go up there; Cillian knows you go up there. What if the Dark Lord has been told you have?"

Her mouth dropped open, and then snapped closed. She hadn't thought of that.

His raised his eyebrow, and his mouth twitched. "How will it look if the Dark Lord searches for those memories and doesn't find any?"

He entered her mind before she could say, 'I'll show him memories from my sixth year.' As if thinking it had opened the memories, various conversations with Ginny from her previous years were rolling through her mind: Ginny fuming over Dean's attitude, how Harry would never treat her as if she was delicate, conversations about how much a prat Ron was, Ginny elated that Harry had finally kissed her, and sitting by the fire talking about tattoos... before she slammed the door closed and pushed him out.

He just smirked cruelly, and condescendingly sneered, "Those could get your friend killed! If the Dark Lord thought for even one minute Ginevra and Potter had a romantic attachment – that he might care for her – she'd instantly become a target."

"That's why I hide all my memories of my conversations with Ginny!" she snapped back, her head pounding and reeling from his last onslaught.

Severus raised his eyebrow, and his mouth twitched. "So what do you girls talk about when you're up in her rooms?"

"Spells, boys, you, how cruel the Carrows are, how much things have changed, things in the paper, and Draco," Hermione rambled off, realizing she'd have to move some of the more benign memories around a bit. Maybe I should sort out some memories from my fifth and fourth year? Gin wasn't obsessing about Harry then, well, not really. Oh, bugger.

His face twisted into a sneer. "Draco?" he asked, with delicately intoned sarcasm. "What is her interest in Draco?"

"This year he follows me around all the time; he's been nice and, at times, protective," she stated. "Almost like a friend. It's weird. He's hated me for six years, and suddenly now, he wants to be friends. But, I hear him at times; he still hates Muggle-borns, and he's in league with the Dark Lord."

Severus relaxed a fraction. "Yes, he is," he said before he schooled his features into a neutral expression. "But like I told you, he's doing so under the Dark Lord's wishes. However, you're having more of an effect on him than you think."

She shook her head. "Hardly. He's too set in his ways – too blind to the truth."

He grabbed her robes off the bed. "If you think so," he said, holding out her robes for her. "It's time for dinner. We can discuss this later."

Talk in the Great Hall was greatly subdued at the Gryffindor table because MacCavish chose to sit right next to Seamus and listen in on the conversations of Hermione and her friends. Hermione stood to leave before pudding was served, saying she had too much homework. Cillian escorted her to the tower and waited for Severus in his office.

Hermione had all her books out on the coffee table, busily trying to catch up on all her homework when Ginny walked into the room and sat down next to her. "Hi. I brought you some brownies," she said, placing a plate of brownies on an empty spot.

"Thanks," Hermione replied, setting down her quill. "Sorry about dinner, they think you and I are conspiring or something."

"Aren't we?" Ginny asked as she started pulling out her things from her bag.

Hermione thought about it. Yes, they did, frequently. That didn't lend well to sorting out memories that she could show Severus or the Dark Lord. Which reminded her... "Do you have the mirror?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

"Sure," she said, handing the compact to Hermione.

Hermione listened carefully to the sounds coming from Severus' office; she knew Severus and Cillian were discussing what they should do with her over Christmas holiday.

"I wish you could come home with me," Ginny said wistfully.

"Oh, sure," Hermione said sarcastically as she opened the compact. "I'll just go ask Severus for permission." Both girls laughed at the suggestion.

"He's really protective of you," Ginny stated as she opened her Transfiguration book.

"As much as he can be, I suppose," Hermione said as she angled the mirror, but all she could see was darkness. "How does it..."

"If his is closed you have to make it vibrate to get his attention," Ginny said as she tapped it twice with her wand.

After a few seconds, part of Harry's face appeared. "Hermione!"

"Shh, I have to be quiet; Severus is downstairs. What have you been up to?" Hermione asked, dying to hear good news.

Harry's one eye narrowed at the mention of Severus' name but he recovered quickly. "Ron, Dean, and I went back to the museum," Harry said, and Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "to look at the Gryffindor artifacts again and all the portraits of him, but we ran into some trouble. I've looked in the books you had on the founders, but just like in the museum, Godric Gryffindor is rarely painted with anything other than his sword, vambraces, and the brown hat he turned into the Sorting Hat. Sometimes he's wearing a chain, but not all the time."

"Harry, I don't think that anything of Gryffindor's survived other than the sword and his hat. Gryffindor's tankard, his vambraces, stirrups, and the buckler in the Walsingham's collection in the museum are probably not – they won't be one. I still think one of the old pewter plates or the old pewter mugs from the school is a possibility, but the ones on display from the Mordaunts' collection won't be."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I thought..."

"We thought wrong, and stay away from the artifacts and portraits in the museum. I know the Mordaunts and Walsingham are Death Eaters, but if they had one of his artifacts... I doubt seriously that the Dark Lord would keep his artifacts in the museum – he'd want them someplace safer, secret," she warned him. "Severus was sent there by Dumbledore, or he went there with him... He said they are not what we seek."

"And you trust him?"

Hermione wanted to strangle him sometimes. "Harry, he was there. He saw us and let us go. He knows about the cup, locket, book, and ring, and he confirmed to me that he thinks Nagini is one."

"I don't trust him," Harry whispered. At least he wasn't getting excited or raising his voice.

"I do," Hermione said, echoed by Ginny.

"Ginny? Is that you? Are you there, too?"

Ginny scooted closer so that she could see Harry, too. "Yes, Harry, I do; I trust him. He's really strict about the rules, and he's tough, but he's doing things to protect us. The Carrows are horrible – they've let Filch use the chains in his office, but Snape keeps interfering. He keeps sending us to Hagrid's for detention a lot, and he's been trying to have the other professors handle their own detentions. Filch even set up a pillory in the Entrance Hall and hung three gibbets from the ceiling, but so far, no one's been put in them."

"So," Harry said, obviously not wanting to see any good in Severus.

"Snape changes the punishments, Harry. I know he's been doing it! He's protecting Hermione, too, him and his friend. He has this guy, Cillian, here as Hermione's personal bodyguard. It's odd, but I think Snape likes her," Ginny said, but Harry still looked skeptical. "Look, I know about these things you're looking for, like the cup and that locket. There's another one, isn't there? Why won't you fill me in so I can help?"

"It's too dangerous, Gin," Harry said. "Don't pester me or Hermione about them."

Ginny opened her mouth but Hermione cut her off. "Have you destroyed the locket, yet?" Hermione asked. "No point being evasive, Ginny already knows about the locket anyway."

Harry scowled and then sighed. "No, we've tried, but we can't," he said and looked away for a moment. "It's wonky; I hear whispers. It tells me all sorts of things and tries to make me believe that Ron isn't my friend, that I can't trust him. Dean can't stand the thing, and Ron is really a prat when he wears it; he keeps saying the oddest things."

Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand so she could look directly into the mirror. "Don't let it touch your skin, Harry. Cover it with a sock or put it in a leather pouch, or both, but don't wear it," she implored. "The diary not only affected me when I was writing in it but when I was holding it or touching it. I even heard it whisper to me when I had it with me in my bag. I had it under my pillow for a while, but the dreams I'd have... Trust me on this, okay? Please, Harry, limit your contact with the thing until you can destroy it!"

"Yeah, all right. I'll try – I just don't want it lying around or getting lost." The image in the mirror bobbed as if he was distracted by something. They could hear voices from somewhere behind him. "It's – what if someone picked it up and didn't know what it was? They might – it's too risky to leave lying around."

"Harry, do you have the cup? Do you know where you're going to look next?" Ginny asked.

Harry's face appeared in the mirror again. "Leave it, Gin; it's too dangerous! Don't ask me again," he growled angrily, and the mirror went dark again.

"I hate it when he does that," Ginny grumbled.

Hermione shrugged and picked up her quill. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, she should trust Ginny, then dismissed the idea. Harry would be angry with her if she did.

~o0o~

Hermione stood at the window of the sitting room, one hand clutching the drapes as she watched the students board the school carriages. She felt abandoned. She let out a deep sigh, and her breath fogged the window momentarily.

At breakfast Ginny told her that she, Neville, and Seamus had made arrangements so that all of the Gryffindors siding with the DA who would normally be staying at the castle over the Christmas holiday would instead be staying with either Neville's or Seamus' family, and that Hannah, Susan, Gerald, and Ernie had done the same in Hufflepuff. In Ravenclaw, Terry, Michael, Stephen, Claudia, and Geraldine had also ensured that anyone siding with the DA who wanted to leave the school had a place to go.

Hermione didn't blame them, considering how horrible things had been for her friends, but that meant that she'd be alone in the castle with Severus and Cillian. She hung her head as she let the drape fall back into place. Even Draco was leaving, but then, he hadn't been speaking to her all that much since their last argument. Apparently, the Carrows were staying in the castle, as were MacCavish, Rowle, and Travers.

"What are your plans today?" Severus asked. Hermione turned sharply, startled; she thought he was downstairs talking to Cillian and hadn't heard him come in.

"I didn't make any. I thought I'd work on my homework, maybe do some research in the library..." Her voice trailed off as he nodded, his back rigid and his hands clasped behind his back. Cillian leaned casually against the doorway to the stairs, watching them.

"You and I have been requested to attend a party," he said smoothly, his face impassive, but his tone told her either he hated parties, or this one wasn't one he particularly wanted to attend.

"A party?" she asked, tilting her head. "Where?"

"Malfoy Manor," he said, his tone even and controlled. She tried to read his expression, but his face gave nothing away, although he was watching her intently. "It's the night of the Winter Solstice. It's formal."

Hermione nodded. Formal. The Malfoys – the Death Eaters. Voldemort. She swallowed nervously. "I see." Formal, as in robes? Shopping? She gasped at the possibility of going shopping. Leave the castle? "I would like that. I haven't been allowed to leave the castle or get anything for my friends for Christmas."

He let out a bark of laughter. "You do understand that I cannot risk taking you to Hogsmeade. The Death Eaters have taken over the village and made it their personal headquarters," he stated, unmoving. "Even the standing order of the Dark Lord that you are not to be touched won't necessarily guarantee your safety; there are still those who take it upon themselves to try and earn his favor with unauthorized initiatives. The number of times I've seen the Dark Lord punish a follower for his or her initiative attests to that alone."

Hermione inhaled sharply. She knew he was right; she'd seen the Dark Lord's anger and his treatment of Pettigrew for harming her.

His lip curled up slightly in a cool smile that didn't resemble humor. "However, I'd gladly allow you to send your friends presents if you can tell me where they are?"

Hermione pursed her lips, knowing which friends he meant, but decided to answer him anyway. "Ginny's at the Burrow, and Luna went home as did Charlene, Neville, and Seamus. I have Jenny's and Janilynn's addresses." She wondered if she should get something for Glenwynn, Felicia, and Adrianna. They've been very nice to me this year, even protecting me once...

Severus moved closer. "And Potter and Weasley, what of them?"

Hermione lowered her head and shook it, looking up at him through her fringe. He wouldn't let it go – she didn't know where Harry and Ron were, but even if she did, she wouldn't tell him. It was too risky. "I don't know where they are, but if I did, I have no way of getting hold of them," she lied with a shrug, staring at the floor in what she hoped was a look of total dejection. Severus stared at her, unmoving and stiff, and she hoped he wouldn't use Legilimency on her. Not that she had ever been good at deception.

"I can always get the girl appropriate robes," Cillian said, and Hermione was grateful for the interruption, even if his suggestion meant that she'd not be able to get anything for her friends.

"I understand that you chose her wedding robe," Severus said with a smirk.

"And she looked amazing in it," Cillian retorted.

Sighing, Hermione walked across the room to go up to the bedroom.

"Hermione?" Severus said as she passed him.

"No, it's fine. I want my Transfiguration notes," she replied before ascending the stairs. It isn't fair. I'm behaving. I'm trying so hard. She knelt in front of her trunk and wiped a tear on the sleeve of her robes, which only allowed more tears to follow. A hand holding a handkerchief touched her shoulder. She turned and saw Severus standing behind her.

"Who did you want to send gifts to?"

"I told you," she replied, ignoring the handkerchief. She lowered her eyes and turned back to her trunk.

"There are other things you can send your friends," he said softly, touching her hair with his fingertips. "Personal things. Something made, perhaps."

"Perhaps," she replied. He's right. She was very good at potions, and she knew that he maintained a personal supply of ingredients. I could transfigure something. I'm very good at changing pebbles into crystals. I did that sixth year. Black Panyas or Pangra Pods worked really well, too, and the crystals became an iridescent black...but then what? She didn't know how to make jewelry with them. Eucalyptus pods with their star made pretty buttons. But everyone learned that in class.

"If you put your mind to it, you'll think of something," Severus said softly. "If you want to use the potions lab, let me know."

"I will. Thank you," she said and resumed digging in her trunk for the things she wanted and putting them in her bag.

He remained behind her, silent. She inhaled; his presence was a comfort, soothing. She could feel his strength. She clasped the handles of her bag and rose, facing him. "Is it all right if I go to the library?"

His lips curved into a semblance of a smile. "I think it can be managed."

She smiled in return and headed for the door.

"Hermione."

She turned.

"I will have to be with you as well as Cillian. The Carrows are remaining in the castle," he said softly.

"I heard. So are the security wizards," she replied. "My friends mentioned it at breakfast."

He nodded once. "I will allow you to bring any books you need here, as many as you like, even those from the Restricted Section," he said.

She looked up at him in shock that he'd allow her to do so.

"But I advise you to revise here. The Carrows and Death Eaters will not be allowed in the Headmaster's tower."

She nodded in understanding and turned to go. The castle was eerie with so few people around, the corridors practically empty, but the huge library seemed to welcome her like an old friend. She considered searching through the history section, but she'd read every book in the library written about the founders ever since Harry had told her about the Horcruxes. Severus and Cillian stayed near the tables in the middle of the great room; Severus facing her, his gaze following her every move as Cillian stood facing the doors, while Hermione collected all the books she wanted to take up to the sitting room.

~D~

The train had been stopped just north of Hadrian's Wall and was searched. Fifteen wizards in black, some wearing Death Eater's masks, others wearing a skull and snake badge on their robes, quickly secured the train and searched all the compartments. It was chaos. Shouts. Screams. Even the sounds of windows breaking. Uncle Rodolphus told Draco to remain put and keep an eye on the prefects. Draco locked the door of the prefect compartment and then stared out of the window as he waited.

Antonin Dolohov entered several minutes later, checked the names of the students to that on a list while Franklin Avery and Sylvester Rosier stood behind him with their wands in their hands. Apparently, no one in their compartment was a target; the men closed the door and walked to the next one. Several prefects asked Draco what was happening, as if he'd known about the raid, but he just told them to shut it and sit down.

When Draco exited the train at King's Cross, he was surprised to see his Aunt Bellatrix there to greet him. She fussed over him, asking him how things were at school. When they arrived home, Draco immediately realized that something was amiss. Both parents greeted him, but reservedly, and without the normal shows of affection he'd expected, especially from his mother.

His father stood back, giving Draco a cool hello with a nod of his head and inquiring about his last term. He had stubble on his face, something Draco had never seen before, as if he hadn't shaved in days. His normal long, lush locks were unwashed, lanky, and dull, and his robes were creased as if he'd worn them the day before or the house-elves hadn't cleaned and ironed them. Even his shoes didn't have the normal high gloss polish.

For the first time that he could ever recall, his mother looked... unreachable, unsure, and demure. She hugged him, briefly but stiffly as if embarrassed to be seen showing any motherly affection. She wore high-collared, long-sleeved, closefitting robes cut on the bias with her hair braided and no jewelry at all save her wedding ring. Draco stared at her for a moment until his Uncle Rodolphus came in to welcome him home. He greeted his uncle with the same ease he'd always shown the man, while still slyly assessing his mother's strange demeanor.

His mother tried to bustle Draco up to his rooms but his Aunt Bella insisted Draco greet their Lord, and his mother softly acquiesced. His Uncle Rodolphus remanded Draco's father to remain behind, and Lucius, although apparently affronted by the order, simply stayed where he stood, staring at a spot on the wall, unmoving.

Draco followed his aunt and uncle obediently, his mother walking slowly beside him. His mother, who usually appeared calm and serene in any situation, seemed wary as they were led to the drawing room. Walking beside her, he had a better opportunity to observe her close up. She looked haggard, her eyes haunted, and even though her face was coated with heavy makeup, Draco could detect the presence of Concealing Charms. If he didn't know better, there were bruises on her cheeks and neck, and he suspected that she had deep circles under her shallow-looking eyes.

When they entered the drawing room it was immediately obvious that the Dark Lord was in a rage. Apparently, several students had escaped the raid on the train. Draco asked his mother which ones, but she'd hushed him.

He had to stand and watch as the Dark Lord severely punished Dolohov, Avery, and Rosier for the responsibility of the failed raid. "Rodolphus, how did the children get off the train if all exits were secured by my followers?" the Dark Lord snarled at the three writhing bodies on the drawing room floor.

"They simply vanished, my Lord," his Uncle Rodolphus said, from where he knelt with his head bowed. "They were on the list of those who boarded the train, but when we came on board, they were simply not there."

"But how did they escape!" the Dark Lord snarled, turning his wand on Draco's uncle. Uncle Rodolphus fell to the ground screaming. "It is impossible to Apparate from the train!"

"My Lord, they could have used Portkeys," Draco's aunt implored. She was on her knees, arms stretched out to the Dark Lord and gazing at him with a mixture of fear and lust in her eyes, practically fawning over the wizard. It appalled Draco to have to watch his Aunt debase herself so.

"That's easy enough to check," the Dark Lord said, turning. "Where is Runcorn? Someone fetch him for me."

Westmore came forward, bending his knee to his master. "I can go check the Portkey Registration Office to see if there was any unauthorized Portkey activity in the area, my Lord."

"Then go. And be quick about it," the Dark Lord snarled.

Cillian's oldest brother, Marc Gwynek, entered the room and knelt before the Dark Lord. "Master, all the prisoners are secured as you instructed. Bole is requesting that he be given the Weston girl."

"Very, good. I'll deal with Bole's request later," the Dark Lord said as he lowered his wand and held it casually in his fingers. "At least one of you is capable of following directions." He looked up, and Draco froze as their gazes met. "Draco, come here."

Draco walked forward and knelt, saying, "My Lord," with as serene a tone as he could muster, trying desperately to appear composed.

"Welcome home. I hear that you, at least, followed directions given to you by your brethren."

The Dark Lord's tone was surprisingly calm, his normalcy unnerving Draco slightly. "I did as I was told, Master," Draco said, forcibly keeping his voice as even as possible. "Had I known who you sought, my Lord, I might have been of some assistance."

"We caught three of the most important ones," the Dark Lord said. "Take your place with your brethren."

Draco stood and backed up until he was level with his mother.

"No, Draco, here, beside your aunt."

Draco crossed the room and stood behind his aunt. She smiled at him, then turned her attention to the Dark Lord, genuflecting at his every move. He carefully hid his disgust as he watched the rest of the display, as one after another Death Eater came forward to make his report.

Afterwards, Draco quickly learned that Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, his master, had completely taken over his home and now resided in the master suite as Lord of the manor. Several Death Eaters, those who usually lived in squalor and poverty, had moved into the guest rooms, thrilled to be living in such luxurious surroundings and being waited on hand and foot. Even the werewolf, Greyback, was residing in one of the guest rooms, as was the rat, Wormtail.

Draco still had his own rooms, but his parents had been moved to one of the lesser rooms in the family wing of the manor, and his Aunt Bellatrix now used the rooms adjacent to the Dark Lord. Belinda Morederk, Cillian's sister, and Belladonna Rosier were frequently hanging around the manor, playing court to the Dark Lord, vying for his attentions with as much flaunting and flirtations as his aunt.

His father, once the self-assured master of his domain, a proud aristocrat of the wizarding elite, was quiet and passive and kept to the back of the room or in the corners, unless the Dark Lord called him forward. The Dark Lord frequently taunted his father, making demands as if he were little more than a servant. And his father complied, bowing low like a house-elf, and all the while, looked as if he was only hanging on to sanity by a very thin thread that could break at any moment. It appalled Draco, to watch, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to hide his emotions least he be questioned about his loyalty.

Everywhere around the house, especially in the wing where the grand ballroom was, preparations were being made for a party. Draco sighed and went to his room, taking the stairs two at a time to avoid being summoned. Once in his room, he collapsed on the bed.

He stared out of the window and wondered what Hermione was up to, then shook his head. She'd be reading or revising. But, it didn't matter. He'd see her at the party on the Winter Solstice.

~H~

Hermione felt the coin in her pocket vibrate. She couldn't use it as Severus and Cillian were both sitting in front of her. After awhile she excused herself to the loo and tried to make her coin work.

Dobby slipped into the loo. "Miss, Dobby was called to Miss Wheezy. Dobby is to gives you this," he said and handed her a silver compact. It wasn't like the one she used to talk to Harry; this one had a ring of twelve rhinestones around the edge and several small, silver flowers inset on the cover.

She opened it and was amazed to see Ginny's face in the mirror opposite some Muggle facial powder. "What?" she whispered. "What happened?"

"It's horrible, Hermione," Ginny said, nearly hysterical. "They abducted students from the train! They took them, Susan, and Luna, and Charlene..."

"Ginny, calm down and..."

"They stopped the train somewhere just north of Hadrian's Wall. Six men came on board and forced Luna, Charlene Weston, Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Duane Saunders, Wilberforce Wodehalle, oh, and Zane Seymour and Farrah Chambers from the train – they took them!"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What do you mean they took them?" She fought back the panic and fear that threatened, and forced herself to remain calm. She couldn't do anything for them.

"Abducted, kidnapped, absconded..."

"Okay, I get the picture," Hermione whispered, forcing herself to remain calm and keep her wits about her. "Took them where? Why?"

"Neither Neville nor Seamus know! But their parents aren't exactly coming in line with the Death Eaters and the occupation of the Ministry, are they? It could be a tactic to make the parents comply with – oh, gods, Hermione! They... what do you think they will do with them?"

"Hold them; put them in a... cell, a basement somewhere," Hermione guessed but wasn't sure. "They won't be sent to Azkaban – it will be some place private, secret. If they were taken to Azkaban word would get out."

"Hermione, Luna is missing," Ginny reiterated, now close to tears. "She, Jenny and Tinko were going to come stay with me – and we have no idea where to look!"

Hermione gasped and felt her fears for her friend escalate. "What, did they get Jenny and Tinko too?" she exclaimed a bit too loudly, and she looked up at the loo door, hoping that neither Severus nor Cillian would get suspicious and come find her.

"No, Jenny and Tinko, they're with me – they got away. I got hold of Seamus but he said that Charlene wasn't corralled off to the side with the others. He said he thinks she was singled out. But no one knows what happened to her, either."

"But then where is she? Did she Apparate?" Hermione asked and then mentally berated herself. She couldn't have; it's impossible.

"No, there are Anti-Apparation spells in placed on the train – you know that. You can't Apparate to or from the train – it's too dangerous. We had Portkeys, and well, some of us didn't show up where we were supposed to."

Hermione was shocked. "Portkeys? How'd you get them?"

"Tonks, who else?" Ginny admitted with a frown. "She sent us nine of them; Neville, Seamus and me, we each had one. Hannah, Gerald, and Ernie did, too, as did Michael, Stephen, and Claudia. Michael is missing, too! No one can reach him."

Hermione thought she heard someone moving around in the bedroom. "Gin, I have to go... I think I hear Severus. If you hear anything, let me know, okay?"

"Of course," Ginny promised. "Too bad you can't weasel it out of Snape."

Hermione chose not to chide her friend as she closed the compact and slipped it in her pocket. She looked around the room, feeling utterly helpless. Her friends were missing, but she couldn't do anything. She was a prisoner here, and at the mercy of the Dark Lord. She couldn't ask anyone for help, not really. Possibly Professor McGonagall – except she is going to be away from the castle for a few days. Hermione had heard Severus give his consent for a brief family leave since so few students were remaining in the castle. As far as Hermione knew, there were only six students remaining. She didn't know if any of the other professors were in the Order, but if they were then they were most likely already doing what they could.

She forced herself to calm down again. It wouldn't do for Severus to know that Hermione knew about the abductions. He'd only ask her how she'd known, and that would mean ratting on Ginny and admitting to having used the mirrors. She involuntarily put her fingers over the compact, feeling a sense of comfort from the hard surface in her pocket. No, I have to keep it to myself and wait for news from Ginny. There's nothing to be done but wait and try not to worry. Yeah, right. Don't worry. Homework. Revision, that's what I'll do. She'd bury herself in her homework and hope to keep distracted.

The bedroom was empty when she entered. Taking a deep breath to suppress her concerns for her friends, she walked downstairs to finish working on her essays.

~~o0o~~

Author's Notes:

I chose Hadrian's Wall as the site for the raid because it's real: 'it was a defensive fortification dividing northern Britannia [Scotland] from the Roman Empire or Roman Britain. Begun in AD 122, during the rule of emperor Hadrian, it was the first of two fortifications built across Great Britain, the second being the Antonine Wall, lesser known of the two because its physical remains are less evident today. A significant portion of the wall still exists, particularly the mid-section, and for much of its length the wall can be followed on foot. Hadrian's Wall extended west from Segedunum at Wallsend on the River Tyne to the shore of the Solway Firth, ending a short but unknown distance west of the village of Bowness-on-Solway.' http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadrian%27s_Wall