Love's Helping Hands

The dialogue between Severus and Minerva in the corridor and Voldemort's words are quoted from DH and belong to JKR. I simply borrowed them for a bit. I hope she doesn't mind, but as I don't know her to ask her – I'll just cross my fingers and hope it's okay.

A huge thank you to my beta, Southern_Witch_69, for typo hunting for me and helping me clean up my mistakes. I appreciate you dearly and really feel blessed to count you as my friend.

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Love's Helping Hands

~Spring 1998~

Severus had his hands full. He was roaming the corridors under the pretense of checking the wards. Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Finnegan and their DA are causing trouble around the castle, and I can't convince the Carrows, or my fellow Death Eaters, that allowing Alecto to torture them isn't the solution. She'll kill them. Not that it was ever easy convincing my fellow Death Eaters that serving detention with Hagrid had been a suitable punishment for their antics either. He scoffed at the thought. Not that it is an option any longer. Especially after that disastrous 'Support Harry Potter' party in his tiny hut. Besides, Hagrid is now on the run and probably living with that brother of his somewhere. So as much as Severus hated it, and it angered Dumbledore's portrait to no end, the Carrows and Filch now had free reign on detentions and punishments. The brutality Severus knew that was being wrought on the students, especially the Gryffindors, was truly barbaric, but he couldn't stop them, at least not directly.

He could, however, continue to thwart the Carrows from being able to capture the students indirectly. He still had the loyalty of the house-elves and the portraits of the Headmasters, who were sworn to keep his secrets. Of course, it also helped that Peeves hated the Carrows and was quite pleased to be allowed a free hand in tormenting them as a personal charge. And the ghosts are more than happy to assist the students, passing on warnings and haunting the Carrows' every movement. The Fat Friar, the Bloody Baron, and Nearly Headless Nick, as well as The White Knight, Amous Swarthendale, the Scot, Bernard Blackmoore, and that ruddy Lord Illingworth, had all been taking turns either following the Carrows or keeping a close watch on the members of the DA.

The translucent Scot in his kilt and carrying his bagpipes rounded the corner. "Headmaster, good to see ye."

"And you," Severus said. "How goes the watch?"

"My vigilance of me young charges is going well," the Scot said. "The young 'uns are all in their tower and all is well this eve. I am off to practice my pipes."

Severus smirked, knowing full well that the previous Headmasters had refused to allow the Scot from playing his bagpipes from the battlements at night. Headmaster Fortsecue had even charmed the ghost's pipes so that only those who desired to hear the Scot play could do so. That way, he didn't disturb anyone's sleep with his playing. "I'm sure the children will love the serenade."

"Oh, it's not the young 'uns I'll be playing to, but a lass," he said with a wink. "Tonight, Miss Carrow be mine to watch. Master Filius has charmed me pipes. I can serenade her to me heart's content."

"Pardon me?" Severus asked.

"Professor Filius has made it possible for me to serenade her. As long as I intend for her to hear me play – she can. He said she'd love to hear me play – so who am I to deny a lady the enjoyment of me pipes?"

Bloody brilliant, Filius! Severus wanted to laugh. This is a new development, one I'll have to thank Filius for. "By all means, don't let me delay you. I'm sure she's axnious to hear your tunes."

The Scot made a quick incline of his head and swept away.

"Twenty points to Ravenclaw for your ingenuity, Filius," Severus said softly, smiling as he decided to turn in for the night.

*

Severus had been very attentive to any and all news about Potter, hoping to get any real news about their progress, location, or activities. Potter and Hermione had been spotted frequently or, rather more accurately, frequently thought to have been spotted by Snatchers. The Snatchers had also been claiming to have seen Weasley occasionally, although Severus was certain that the sightings were false or desperate claims in order to collect on the reward, nothing less than random redheads and overactive imaginations. But it had been frustrating nonetheless.

When Draco Malfoy had left for Easter hols, he'd let slip that the Lovegood girl had been incarcerated at his house, and his father still had Ollivander the wandmaker in his basement. They were apparently being held by the Dark Lord's orders and weren't to be harmed. But Lucius' idea of 'not harmed' was hardly consistent with his own.

Severus had learned about the disastrous escape of Potter and his friends from an irate and frightened Draco. Narcissa, terrified that Draco might be harmed, had brought him back to school as quickly as she could so Severus could protect him. Severus learned from them that Potter not only saved the Lovegood girl from Malfoy Manor but also Mr. Ollivander, Mr. Thomas, a goblin, and an elf as well. Potter had also snatched Draco's and Bellatrix's wands in the process and had fled with Gryffindor's sword and the Dark Lord's dagger.

By morning, the debauched fiasco was major gossip among the Death Eaters, and the fall from grace for Lucius and Narcissa was now nearly complete. In fact, Severus had received six letters informing him of what had happened, although he still believed Narcissa' version as truth. Bellatrix had been severely punished, although her fawning and groveling had apparently finally appeased the Dark Lord, and once she'd assured him of her loyalty, she had at least been forgiven. Nevertheless, the Malfoys had become prisoners in their own home with six Death Eaters, Wormtail included, taking up permanent residence.

Draco was now sniveling at Severus at every opportunity he could to try and find a way to save his parents, but Severus had precious few moments to spare with Draco, nor the patience, trying to keep the Carrows from killing the students and trying to help suppress Dumbledore's Army from wreaking havoc. Still, Draco frequently sought out Severus, pacing his office, deeply concerned for his parents and his own hide, but apparently, the boy was finally wisening up. The problem was, Severus couldn't afford to tip his hand, not now, not with everything spiraling to a head. He had to maintain his position, his charade, lest the Dark Lord find out and all was lost. There was too much at stake now.

Severus paced his sitting room or the school corridors nightly, sometimes even seeking the quiet solitude of the tower room to think. He was worried. Actually he was furious. Draco had told him that Hermione had been tortured, cursed by Bellatrix, and that beast, Greyback, had manhandled his Hermione and had requested her as his reward for Potter's capture.

He'd have used her! Or worst, toyed with her before he bit her, he constantly lamented as he walked the corridors. Corridors she once called a home. He wouldn't have let her live, but... Oh, Merlin, if he'd actually gotten hold of her to do as he'd pleased! He paced angrily, frustrated at his inability to protect her. Thank the gods she escaped! He wanted to see Hermione, desperately wanted to know if she was all right.

There was no word on where Potter had led his friends after their escape. Phineas was absolutely no help anymore where Hermione was concerned. He had told Severus that his picture frame had been left in the tent. Severus slipped out one night to the spot Scabior had said they'd captured Hermione and her friends and found her tent easily enough, but it had been ransacked and abandoned. Severus had collected everything anyway, and now all of Hermione's and her friends' belongings, what was still left of them, was now tucked away in his room. The second portrait of Phineas was now hanging in Alecto's room, and once again Phineas was of use to him again, spying on the Carrows.

*

While Harry had continued to insist that the Deathly Hallows could be real, Hermione had wanted to concentrate on what she knew was truly real: the mystery of who had cast the silver doe and any possible clue as to what or where the other Horcruxes could be. Moreover, unbeknownst to either boy, she had desperately wanted to know what Severus was up to and if he was okay. Her only link to him had been Phineas' portrait, but that had been lost to her when they'd been captured. She had thought of sending him a letter by owl but was worried that it might fall into other hands. Not knowing and worrying about him troubled her sleep, giving her vivid dreams. Not that she didn't dream about Severus every night anyway.

She had also been very concerned for her friends – especially Neville, Luna, and Ginny – constantly worried if they were all right. She'd even fretted about the Creevy brothers, who were stupidly brave enough to be trying to fight Death Eaters all on their own, and Hermione had frequently added them in her nightly prayers as she'd prayed to every deity she knew to watch over those she cared about.

She also knew Harry's scar had been bothering him, and as the weeks had turned into months, she could tell that the frequency and duration of the visions and nightmares had been increasing.

Now, though Luna was safely with them, the stories she'd told Hermione about what had been happening in the school terrified her. She'd begged Luna to keep quiet about the tortures, the punishments, and the disappearances from Harry, needing his focus on the task at hand and not on another rescue mission. But the things she'd heard made her sick with worry for the others – everyone she knew. She now cared a great deal more about the outcome of this war – that Voldemort had to be defeated at any cost, even her own life, if it came down to it. She saw what was happening at the castle as a clear indication of what life under Voldemort and his Death Eaters would be like. It was more horrible than her own imagination had contrived, and Luna had lived through it, only escaping by lucky circumstances.

Hermione sat in the sun on the cliff thinking as she stared out at the sea. As usual, when she was alone, she thought about Severus when she wasn't thinking about their mission. Nearly every night and frequently throughout the day, Hermione repined for Severus. She could easily see him in her mind's eye: writing at his desk, brewing potions at his worktable, leaning back in his chair as he listened to her talk, the intensity in his dark, fathomless eyes when he was aroused, the shine to his eyes when he was excited, made a discovery, or found a solution to something.

It was his predatory look just before he kissed her, the way his eyes bore into hers as he entered her, the look on his face when he climaxed that haunted her the most. She loved the intense and unrestrained feral look on his face as he came, as if all his energy as well as his essence surged from him and into her. She even missed his smug look of completion and achievement as she lay gasping for breath after her own climax. Two usually, sometimes he gave me three. The man is simply incredible when it comes to sex! She truly regretted that she'd never had the opportunity to see what he would have been like in a proper bed. Or if he'd made love to me on his desk or his worktable... Get a grip, Granger. You've other things to worry about right now!

She shoved aside her thoughts about Severus and tried to rationalize out what the last Horcrux could be, repeating the list over in her mind. Something of Rowena Ravenclaw's would be six. What is the seventh? Voldemort himself? Harry said that Dumbledore was certain that he'd had made seven. Harry said that in Slughorn's memory Tom riddle wanted to make seven – seven being the most powerful magical number... but to rip your soul seven times?

She was certain that Voldemort had gone to Harry's parents' house to kill them and make a Horcrux from their deaths. She looked at Harry as he walked along the cliffs, not too far from where she sat. She remembered Harry's words: 'Dumbledore told me that Voldemort transferred some of his powers to me the night he gave me this scar...' Oh, my gods! Harry? No! Couldn't be! 'No one has ever survived the Killing Curse except for one person who incidentally is sitting right here in front of me,' Professor Moody had – I mean Barty Crouch Jr. had said. Harry's mum died to protect Harry, sacrificed herself, and then Voldemort tried to kill Harry. It all backfired – it all went wrong. But did it take?

Hermione tried to list off everything Ginny had said about how the soul fragment in the diary affected her – the blackouts, the disorientation, doing things against her will. Harry doesn't do any of these things – unless you count the visions and his dreams. She concentrated on how the locket affected her, its poisonous influence, but Harry didn't act like that either. He is good, kind, and loyal... Parseltongue, Harry is a Parselmouth, and it's not from anyone in his family. If James had been a Parselmouth Sirius and Remus would have known it, and from what I read, being a Parseltongue runs in families – it doesn't skip generations.

Too many questions, and there's no one I can ask about it. Damn, I miss the library. As soon as she thought of the library, the memory of Severus making love to her in the stacks, their last time together, came to mind. Why, Severus? Why did you kill Dumbledore? Why haven't you even tried to find me – owl me – anything? I miss you. I have so much to ask you.

She shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable and failing. Her body still ached as if she had degenerative joint disease or severe arthritis in every joint of her body. Bellatrix had really wanted to punish her, really wanted to hurt her, badly, and she'd been unmerciful. Still, the witch did know when to pull back so as to keep me from losing my mind like she did to Neville's parents. But what was it that enraged her so? Bella had only asked her about the sword – where and how she had gotten the sword. It was all she wanted to know. Gringotts – her vault? She thought we had been in her vault! Harry is right – one of the Horcruxes is in the vault. Why hadn't I been able to figure that out! It's so bloody obvious! Places that would have been important symbols of greatness to Tom Riddle. I have to stop thinking about the man, Voldemort, and start thinking about a teenage wizard who grew up in an orphanage – among Muggles – who hadn't any idea he was a wizard until he received his Hogwarts letter.

Hermione was going over the list again, repeating aloud to herself what she already knew. "Peverells' ring, an ancient wizarding family line, proof that Tom was a direct descendant of wizard blood, an old and famous family line at that. Dumbledore found the ring in the Gaunt house? He'd hidden it in his great grandfather's house – a descendant of Salazar Slytherin – again proof of his wizarding lineage and that he was the heir of Slytherin...."

Harry sat down next to her. "He said it was," he said softly, "but he never got around to telling me about the ring."

Hermione turned to face him. "The diary – Tom's – was hidden in the Malfoy library, a huge, elegant, wealthy wizard's estate. But he'd had that as a boy. Not likely he bought the diary for himself – it could have been present given to him while he was a student. That would make it significant, if it was a gift from a classmate or a girl."

"If you say so. I don't see him as the romantic, sentimental type though," Harry stated. "The young Tom I saw was full of himself, cocky, manipulative, and cunning."

Hermione was racking her brains now. "Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket – which he stole – both belonging to the founders. We now believe that one of the Horcruxes is in the Lestrange vault in Gringotts – a place young Tom Riddle would have seen as proof of belonging in the wizarding world – having money in a vault in Gringotts."

"Yes, we know this," Harry said softly. "The locket was supposed to be in the cave – right, so the cup will be in the vault."

"If it's the cup that You-Know-Who gave to Bella to protect. If he made seven pieces of his soul – purposely divided it into seven – we still have two other options, something that belonged to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. And two more places." Hermione stared at the sea, thinking. "Hogwarts... Where would teenage Tom hide something in Hogwarts where he believed no one would ever find it?" She was onto something but just couldn't put her finger on it. "I think I have to agree with you. I know that a Horcrux is hidden in Hogwarts."

"Yes, we already decided on that, too," Harry said, his brows creasing as he regarded her. "The castle is huge, it could be anywhere."

"Harry, could one be hidden in the Chamber of Secrets?" she asked, sure that if Tom had hidden a Horcrux in the castle that would be a very likely place.

"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging. "I didn't see anything when I was down there."

"Professor Snape, he's Headmaster," she continued to reason out her thoughts audibly.

"Yes," Harry stated.

"Dumbledore used people," Hermione stated as if he hadn't spoken.

"I'm aware of that," Harry said, sounding annoyed.

Hermione ignored his comment. "And if he was dying, if he thought that the Dark Lord would try and take the castle... he wouldn't want to just hand it over to Voldemort. He'd make it so Professor Snape would be put in charge – Snape, who You-Know-Who wanted to take a position in the castle... all this time – his most loyal servant in charge of the castle."

"Snape is loyal to him! Not Dumbledore anymore," Harry spat out sharply.

"If you say so..." Hermione just couldn't agree. "But Dumbledore always trusted Snape – completely – and was steadfast in his faith in him. There is more to what happened that night than what it seems, Harry. I just know it."

She looked out at the ocean. What if killing Harry was to be the death You-Know-Who was going to use to make a Horcrux? She turned to look at Harry. His greatest victory – killing the Potters – would be his last and final Horcrux. I'm certain of it – it has to be. She noticed a glint of metal on Harry's belt and saw the dagger Bellatrix had thrown at them, killing Dobby. "Harry, do you know what might have happened to the sheath?"

Harry's brow wrinkled again. "The what?"

"The sheath, the scabbard... Did the sword have one?" she asked earnestly. "Swords usually have a sheath or a scabbard, don't they?"

"I suppose so." Harry shook his head. "Er, no. I pulled it out of the Sorting Hat."

"Do you suppose it ever had one – I mean it must have? But could it still exist?" She turned to look at him. "If it did, if it had been in the Headmaster's office when Tom was a student, if he'd seen the sword... or if someone had it and he'd found out!" Severus. He might know or one of the portraits. Bugger. She wished she still had Phineas' portrait. It would be worth the risk to ask him.

"The sword wasn't in the Headmaster's office," Harry said, his brows furrowed. "The sword appeared inside the Sorting Hat. It just magically appeared when I begged the Hat to help me. It was all I had, Fawkes and the Hat, before the sword fell on my head."

"The sword came to you when you begged for help. Ron told me he was praying you were all right when he dove in the pool of water to get you, pleading for help to get you out... He saw you were wearing the locket and reached for the sword. He said it seemed to come to him." She looked out at the sea. "So, no scabbard. No known relative of Gryffindor, no known family line – there has to be!"

"I dunno," Harry said, holding a strand of grass in his fingers. "I never heard of anyone claiming to be."

Hermione threw a rock at the horizon. "Bugger, I miss the library!" she exclaimed as she stared at the line created between the sky and the sea, wishing she could get into Hogwarts library. Her furstrated mind created an image of Severus, standing in front of the bookshelves, naked, reading a book that held her answers, Horcruxes and Where To Find Them.

~Spring 1977~

Severus was attracting notice outside of Hogwarts. Avery and Rosier had apparently told their parents about him and his skill with Potions. Both Mr. Rosier and Mr. Avery had owled him with questions and later requests, sending the necessary ingredients. Lucius Malfoy and the Lestrange brothers took notice apparently that Severus would brew anything for a price and had sent him requests as well. They had even sent him two new cauldrons, one silver and the other a copper one, per his requested requirement. More than once, Severus had noticed that the directions sent by Malfoy or one of the Lestrange brothers were very old and could be improved upon with a simple added step or ingredient, and occasionally the potion desired was extremely difficult but a fun challenge to brew. To Severus, the requests and the money he was earning gave him a sense of importance. His new patrons never begrudged him his fees, and the money was always paid in advance, prior to delivery.

There was a small branch office for Gringotts in Hogsmeade, run by six goblins for students to have access their accounts from Gringotts in Diagon Alley. It was mostly a means of wizarding families to allow their kids spending money without sending precious gold by owl. However, Severus was using the services of the goblins to create an account in his name. Thanks to following Potter and Black all those years, Severus knew about the passage behind the tapestry on the fourth floor that led to a door in the alley behind Dervish and Bangs. From the other side, the door simply resembled a cellar door for the shop. Once you figured out the locking spells, it was an easy way to get into Hogsmeade and slip over to the apothecary or the Gringotts office whenever he needed to.

The only problem was he had to be careful that Potter, Black, Lupin, or Pettigrew were using the tunnel themselves. He was perturbed that there wasn't a way to alert Mr. Filch about the times Severus knew that Potter and friends were skiving off thorough the tunnel without alerting Filch to the tunnel's existence. More than once, Severus had left a Tripping Hex or a Garroting Jinx on the tunnel after he'd used it, knowing that Potter or Black would fall prey to the spells.

At least now, Lily was speaking to him again, although not like she used to. Mostly it had been sociable hellos in the library and corridors, and occasionally she'd said something to him in Potions. But other than that, she avoided him. When they both were in the library, he'd nod to her when she looked at him, and frequently she'd turn to look at him in the Great Hall, not that he was staring at her. However, she never waved like she had before, simply turned her head or resumed talking to her friends or Potter.

On the occasions when Potter and Black had been with Lily, they'd looked up at him when Lily had and made rude gestures, which Lily had then slapped their hands and admonished them for. Other times they'd given him smug or smirking looks, which had annoyed him. Several times, Black or Potter had stopped him in the corridors, warned him to leave off Lily, as if he'd been doing anything to her, and threatened him to stay away.

The worst of it was that he simply couldn't shake his feelings for Lily. He missed her terribly. He wanted to make things like they were before – but knew he couldn't. He couldn't help watching her whenever he got the chance. Even though he knew that he couldn't have her, even though he knew that she was not going to come back to him, he wanted her, and only her. The memory of their friendship and the relationship they'd shared had become like a potion he'd become addicted to. He had her picture hidden under his pillow, the old silver frame tarnished from holding it every night before falling asleep. Nevertheless, he knew in his heart he would never let go. In his dreams, she was his. In his dreams, he won her back. He began to believe that when he had enough money saved away, when he was a well-known Potions master, when he was somebody important, she'd come back to him. When he was big and powerful, something impressive, she would take notice and come back to him.

Deep in his heart, he knew he would try anything just to win her back.

~May 1, 1998~

Everything had happened so quickly. As soon as Griphook had agreed to help them, Harry and Ron had begun to plan. Ron had been amazing; he really had a strategic mind. Ron and Griphook had worked out the most feasible plan of action and had managed to convince Harry it was possible, although Hermione still had her doubts, right up to the day she'd donned the outfit she'd made to look like Bellatrix Lestrange's and had swallowed the Polyjuice Potion.

Oh, of course the history books will make it sound great! Said in simple terms, 'We flew a dragon to get out' – yeah, it sounds so great, so daring and brave! But the scales were scratchy, and they cut and scraped our hands, and it was freezing cold and the clouds made us wet. Oh, yeah, it was fabulous! Hermione thought, bemused. She was dirty, bruised, and scorched from the curses on the treasure in the Lestrange vault, smelling rather awful from riding the dragon, and still slightly damp from the lake. Now she could add slimy, grimy, and smelling putrid from sliding down the plumbing of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry is right, in hindsight, everything does sound much cooler than it really is. She was now sitting in some dank tunnel, rolling up long strips of the Basilisk skin and shoving it in her pockets as Ron, only several feet away, was once again trying to say 'open' in Parseltongue. "Argh! I heard Harry say 'open' a hundred times on the locket!" she heard him grumble.

"I could use a Memory Charm to try and help you remember," Hermione mumbled softly to herself, lest Ron hear her and snap at her again.

Suddenly the two huge snakes parted, the wall cracked and the doorway opened. "I did it!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "I told you I remembered it!"

"I'll say! Let's go," Hermione said, jumping to her feet. They entered the chamber, and both Ron and Hermione stood a moment, staring at the sight before them. Huge towering stone pillars entwined with snakes lined the chamber, supporting the ceiling beams, and equally impressive serpents carved from stone rose up in two rows. Oh, if only Severus could see this! I wonder what he would think. There was an eerie greenish gloom about the room and a soft, diffused light that seemed to come from nowhere.

"Look for anything. He could have easily hidden something in here," Hermione suggested as she carefully examined the space around the first pillar, marveling at the detailed carvings.

"Nothing. I don't see anything," Ron said as he climbed down from searching the hollow eye sockets of the first huge snake.

"Keep looking," Hermione suggested. "This place would have had a huge significance to Tom Riddle, and we know he was in here."

Their progress down the immense chamber was slow as they carefully checked around every pillar and each serpent as they went. At the end of the cavernous room lay the decaying remains of the Basilisk.

"Ew, gross!" Ron articulated nicely.

Hermione was looking up at the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin that stood before them like a god on a dais, taking in Salazar Slytherin's appearance from his slanted eyes and squashed wide nose to his thin lips. He wasn't a particularly attractive man, but Hermione could definitely see why Harry said he looked like a monkey. Her gaze traveled down the elaborately carved details of the robes and long stringy beard that came down to his sandaled feet.

"Nothing," Ron called out from the side of the chamber.

Hermione handed Ron two long strips of the snakeskin. "Here, wrap your hands with this. We won't have a phoenix to help us if either of us gets poisoned by a fang. And be careful. I'll say the spell to loosen the teeth, and you pull them out, okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "How many should we pull?"

"As many as we can. I don't know how much venom is still in the fangs. I think the top ones might have more venom than the bottom – you know, gravity," she instructed. "Absolvere," she said, loosening the first fang, and Ron yanked it out easily.

"Only about a hundred or so to go," Ron said as he set the tooth aside. The job of removing the teeth went much faster than Hermione had assumed at first. Many of the larger ones still had a viscous substance within the hollows of the fangs, which Hermione magically sealed within so that it would squeeze out when the fang was used to pierce something like a syringe. She laid them carefully in a separate pile.

When they pulled as many as they could carry, Hermione turned to examine the statue more closely. "Harry said that the Basilisk came out of the statue's mouth." She searched around the statue. "Oi! There is a space in here," she said excitedly. The only things in the space were two books and a long object wrapped in cloth. She pulled them out and realized that the books were Dark Arts books on blood magic and poisons.

"You don't think it's another Horcrux, do you?" Ron asked, leaning over her shoulder.

"No, these books are not Hogwarts books," Hermione said, examining the book on poisons. The descriptions – they were ghastly and made her sick. She flipped though the pages of the other book, finding a marker. Her mouth fell open when she realized what she was reading. "This is the preparations and spell on how to make Horcruxes! I think these are the books Tom Riddle used to make and protect them... These spells are horrible."

"Well, we knew he learned how from somewhere," Ron said, taking the other object and unwrapping it. "Whoa!"

"What?" she asked, turning to see a very old, worn scabbard with an elaborate tip, several decorative bands and a thick hilt at the top all made from silver and, surprisingly, untarnished. But the greyish purple leather, by comparison, looked old, dry, and flakey.

He examined the detail of the silver work. "Graphorn hide... definitely Goblin made, I think," he said very softly.

She didn't know why, but she had the urge to whisper. "Is it?"

"I do feel something from it, yeah, like the locket only – quieter." Ron laid the scabbard on the ground carefully and grabbed a fang before the soul fragment inside realized what was happening. He stabbed the soft leather, and it made a loud strangling cry. Ron stabbed it with the fang twice more as the screams became garbled and faded, followed by a thick noxious smoke. "Well, that was anticlimactic. At least we know the venom is still good."

"The cup! Hurry," Hermione suggested.

Ron pulled out the cup, and it began to quiver. The sound of Tom Riddle's voice began to emanate from the cup as Ron set it on the ground. Hermione clasped the handle to hold it steady as the cup shook violently, cursing and sneering at them. "Whatever it says, don't listen to it," Hermione yelled over the pleading and snarling coming from the cup.

"Don't worry, this one I'm ready for." Ron selected the largest fang and jammed it into the cup. The soul in the cup made a loud piercing scream, which became a strangled gagging sound as a miasma of smoke wafted up from the cup, and they both quickly jumped back so that they didn't inhale it.

"Well, that takes care of that one! Are you ready to go now? We'll miss the fighting," Ron said, looking down the chamber as if they destroyed Horcruxes every day.

Hermione started laughing. "I suppose we should hurry back. Harry will wonder where we are."

*

Severus felt the searing pain in his Dark Mark and knew that one of the Carrows had alerted the Dark Lord. That meant that Potter had been seen or, worse, caught within the castle. Shite! He was slipping back into the castle along a secret tunnel Black had unknowingly shown him his sixth year, hoping to get to the school in time. He had to reach Potter before the others did and especially before the Dark Lord arrived. Shite! Damn bloody Horntails! However, luck seemed to be on his side. Just as he slipped through the concealed doorway behind a suit of armor, he heard Minerva running his way, whispering to someone while hurrying along, although she could have been muttering to herself. The door made a soft squeak of rusty hinges as the tunnel closed behind him.

Minerva suddenly stopped and turned, brandishing her wand, obviously ready to fight. "Who's there?" she asked, the strain of fear and determination in her voice.

"It is I," he said calmly, stepping from the shadows. "Where are the Carrows?" he asked calmly, although his heart was pounding in his chest.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect," she replied coolly.

He didn't have time for this. The sensation in his Dark Mark told him that the Dark Lord was coming. Did Alecto apprehend him? What about Hermione? Has Potter been to the Ravenclaw tower already? "I was under the impression that Alecto had apprehended an intruder," he said smoothly, forcefully controlling his voice to hide the fact that his arm was still throbbing.

"Really, and what gave you that impression?" she asked a bit too calmly.

My Dark Mark, you witch! She is too defensive... she's hiding something – protecting possibly. His Dark Mark burned again, and Severus knew that the Dark Lord was furious. This has been going on all night! This does not bode well; he should be happy – not angry. Something is seriously wrong. He looked around the space hoping to see a glimmering distortion. He tightened and flexed his fingers of his left hand to try and fight the searing pain.

"Oh, but naturally. You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication. I forgot," Minerva sneered at him.

However, the corridor was eerily quiet.No Alecto or Amycus, and Minerva's acting like she does while protecting her precious cubs... "I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva." Potter is here – right here – or nearby. That means that this is it – the end – the final showdown. He expected to see the Carrows or at the very least hear them come crashing down the corridor any second.

"You have some objection," she said, standing defiantly in the middle of the corridor.

Blast it, witch, I told Dumbledore that I should've confided in you. But no – lies and deceit. Keep things on a need-to-know basis and never reveal everything... secrets and lies. I'll have to trick her into telling me. "I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour."

"I thought I heard a disturbance," she replied stiffly.

Her posture told him she was ready to defend someone. "Really? But all seems to be calm..." He wanted to ask, Where are the Carrows? Is Potter here – with you? I have something to tell him, something Dumbledore entrusted to me that he must know... But I don't dare, unless... Do I dare reveal my hand? There isn't much more time. "Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? I know he is here. You'd do best to tell me, let me..." He was cut off by the sound of a crash from somewhere down the corridor. All right, the blunt approach. 'Please, Minerva, trust me,' he tried to say with his eyes. "Because if you have, I must insist..."

The flicker of her eyes suddenly told him that Potter was here, right here, under his father's cloak. "Why would you think I have seen Potter?"

He decided that now was the time; he'd just tell her the truth, tell her so Potter could hear him. There was no one else around but her and Potter, he was sure of that now. Severus was just about to tell her that he had vital information for Potter... He'd just opened his mouth to speak...

He never got to say what he wanted; his confession died on his lips. Minerva, obviously protecting her precious cub, lashed out at him, and he'd had just enough warning reflected in her eyes for him to raise a Shield Charm to protect himself. However, he had underestimated her. Minerva McGonagall was a sprite, wiry woman in prime magical shape for her age and exceptionally strong and gifted.

They were both thrown off balance for a moment. Severus recovered only a second before Minerva did. Shite, this isn't how I wanted this... She won't trust me because I've maintained my cover far too well. Curse you, Dumbledore! You taught me well, old man.

She ripped a torch off the wall, Transfiguring the flame into a lasso as she aimed it at his head. She believes that I'm loyal to... Severus Transfigured the ring of flame into a black snake, which Minerva quickly vanquished into smoke. ... the Dark Lord. I'm a traitor in her eyes. The smoke became daggers, which he avoided only by grabbing the suit of armor and pulling it in front of him. Damn, she's good. So much for your belief that she'd keep her faith in me, old man. His Dark Mark seared with pain again, and he knew that the Dark Lord was furious about something.

"Minerva?!" Filius called out, running to her aide with Pomona and Horace entering the corridor right behind him, and Severus knew that any hope he had at trying to reason with Minerva was gone. And Potter won't trust me now either – not that that insolent whelp ever had.

"No," squeaked Filius, aiming his wand. "You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

The Mark burned from a Death Eater's summoning, and he knew that wherever Amycus was, he'd just alerted the Dark Lord. Probably some news about Alecto... or possibly Hermione! The thought terrified him. What if he's captured Hermione? The jet of light hit the suit of armor, and it came to life, turned and grabbed Severus from behind, the dagger hilts now jabbing painfully into Severus' back.

The Dark Mark seemed to sear into his flesh right down to his bone, and the pain of the Dark Lord's anger nearly brought Severus to tear. I can't hope to find her if every teacher on my staff turns against me! He struggled against the steel arms of the armor. She's strong, capable... I have to believe... Using his Deiciocontortum Hex, he managed to send the armor flying backwards away from him. He had no hope now of reasoning with either Minerva or Filius, and Pomona and Horace were blocking the corridor behind them, their wands drawn. His Mark seared again, and this time the feeling was quite different. They'll never believe me, and I'm out of time! He is here. I have to stall him! Give them time to get out! I hope Potter got whatever it was Dumbledore said was hidden in the castle... If not... Bloody hell! Turning, Severus ran for the nearest door. The last thing he heard before using the flying spell the Dark Lord had taught him were the words "Coward" being yelled after him from the castle.

Damn you, Dumbledore, I hope you rot! I did it your way, and I've failed! I failed Potter! How in blazing horntails am I going to pass on the information you entrusted to me now? Why in all your ubiquitous omnipotence couldn't you have foreseen this happening? Secrets breed distrust, old man, as much as lies do! Why didn't you tell your camarilla in the Order about me! Now Hermione is in the castle, the Dark Lord is coming, and I haven't had the opportunity to tell Potter what he must know! This is it, the end, the final battle is about to commence and Potter doesn't know! And what HE doesn't know could get my Hermione killed!

~May 2, 1998~

The fighting had been awful so far. There were severe causalities on both sides. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had moved through the castle feeling the strain of lack of sleep and insufficient food, functioning merely from a constant surge of adrenaline and necessity. But as the voice of Voldemort echoed across the grounds, Hermione knew the night was far from over.

The Horcruxes are destroyed – with the exception of Voldemort's snake. In order to win, Harry has to kill the snake at all costs. Although Hermione was certain it was a bad idea, Harry had led the way to the Shrieking Shack, and she and Ron had crawled in right after him. She was nervous and scared, unsure what, if any, obstacles or challenges they'd face. Still, Harry had to face Voldemort, and she'd be damned if she'd let her friend go alone. He needed her.

Now he knelt, as if immobilized, at the entrance to the Shack. "Harry?" Hermione whispered, trying to get him to react. He finally moved, shifting the obstacle from the opening so that they could all climb inside. When she poked her head out, she saw fresh scorch marks on the walls and Harry's trainers as he crawled toward a body on the floor. Oh, Merlin, no! She gasped in alarm upon seeing Severus lying so pale on the floor, trying to stop the bleeding from the neck with his hand. There is so much blood!

She scrambled the rest of the way out, her eyes watching Harry to see if he'd try to help Severus. Harry didn't, either because he didn't know how or didn't care. Either way, Hermione knew it would be up to her, again – if Severus was to have a chance of survival. Hermione pulled out her wand, casting spells to try to retain his blood, to stop the flow until help could be summoned.

Severus seized the front of Harry's robes and pulled him close. "Take... it.... Take... it...." he tried to say; only his voice had a terrible rasping, gurgling sound, and she knew that the wound on his neck had come from the bite of Voldemort's snake.

As she moved around Harry to get a better angle, she noticed something silvery leaking out of Severus from his eyes, nose, and throat, and she gasped in shock, wondering what the substance could be. Memories maybe... His memories – is this what he wants Harry to take? His memories. Things he wants us to know... Dumbledore's death perhaps? I knew he had to have had a reason! Is this what he wants us to know? His reasons.

Her attention was brought back to the situation at hand when Severus spoke again. "Look... at... me..." he whispered with great effort.

Hermione's heart seemed to drop into her stomach and thump slowly. No... no, don't give up! Don't you dare give up! Hermione moved forward, wand held ready, and her foot kicked something. A vial. A vial? An empty vial... She picked it up and turned it in her hands. It was still warm. "Retineo Sanguinis!" she immediately cast on Severus's neck as a booming voice, high-pitched and cold, broke the silence.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery," the voice announced.

Yeah, right, like I believe you value anything but yourself. Hermione forced herself to concentrate on Severus, ignoring the eerie voice as Harry jumped to his feet and stared at the wall. "Captus Areteriae, Continere!" she incanted, keeping her focus on Severus's neck. Come on, please!

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen," the high-pitched voice proclaimed.

"Retino Sanguinis," she repeated worriedly while reaching into her pocket for the bottle containing her essence of Dittany with her other hand.

"I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste," Voldemort's voice vociferated throughout the entire area.

Yeah, right, you megalomaniac! What about Severus's – and he was one of your favorites – your most trusted. She thanked Merlin that the bleeding had finally stopped. "Conceptum Sanguen," she added quickly, and the blood reversed somewhat, drawing back into his wound, but there was still a great deal of blood on him and the floor. "Amplector Coercere."

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

Don't worry, you sick bastard. I will, she thought as she checked the amount of Dittany she had left and poured it on Severus's neck. Please be enough. Please... There was little more she could do. Silently she prayed to each deity she could name, pleading for them to spare his life and give him strength to recover. "Please, Severus, live," she said, leaning down close to his ear as Voldemort continued to reverberate off the walls. "Live for me. I need you to live. I love you. Please don't give up and die."

"... yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest..." the voice continued to boom.

"Likes hearing himself talk, doesn't he? How could you stand him?" she said softly to Severus. Hermione sat up. He needs help... Who?

"... battle recommences. This time I shall enter the fray myself..." the voice of Voldemort announced.

Aberforth! Yes, Dumbledore's brother, proprietor of the Hog's Head. He can come get Severus and hide him... She closed her eyes and tried to focus on a happy memory, any happy memory. Think, concentrate... His kiss! Focus on his kiss, on the time spent in his office, any one of our times together, and concentrate. She tried to hone her thoughts completely on the feeling of Severus' kiss, the feel of his arms as they embraced her and pointed her wand at the window behind them. "Expecto Patronum," she said quietly so as not to alert anyone who could be standing outside the door. 'He's here in the Shrieking Shack. He's one of us! He's hurt and needs help. Please, Aberforth, please help him. He's one of the good guys – really. Please believe me...' She forced her thoughts into the silvery, iridescent otter as it sped from the room.

"... child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour," Voldemort said.

The voice suddenly stopped. There was an eerie silence all around them, except for the sound of her pulse and her own breathing in her ears.

Hermione siphoned the silvery strands of Severus' memories into her Dittany bottle, and then rose to her feet to stand next to her friends. "It'll be all right," she said, hoping that the concern and fear she felt wasn't in her voice. "Let's – let's get back to the castle. If he's gone to the forest, we'll need to think of a new plan...." She glanced at Severus's face as he lay there. He's so pale, the blood – at least his blood has stopped seeping from the wound. But he lost so much already, and I don't have any Blood-Replenishing Potion. I don't know if I've done enough for him, but it's all I can do, she thought as she hurried back into the tunnel entrance. Please, Aberforth, please help him...

~ T B C ~>

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Author's Notes:

As used in chapter 9 as well, the Deiciocontortum Hex is comprised of:

Deicio -icere -ieci –iectum: 1. to throw, cast, hurl down, to throw to the ground, fell; 2. of persons, to kill, bring down. In general, to fling away or aside

Contortum: whirling; so powerful, vigorous

Absolvere: to loosen , to free; using: solvo solvere solvi solutum: to loosen; to untie , release, free; to dissolve, break up; to exempt; to break up, weaken, bring to an end; to pay off, discharge a debt

My favorite Latin translation source is, of course: http://catholic.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl