Chapter Ten

A/N: This world and these characters belong to JKR. I write for fun, not money. Thanks, as always, to my awesome beta, Shellsnapeluver.

She knocked. When there was no answer, she wordlessly cast Protego Totalum on herself and entered, wand aloft.

"Stupefy!" he said. The hex bounced off the air in front of her and dissipated. She grinned.

"Expelliarmus!" she retorted, but he, too, had cast the Shield Charm, and her spell was rendered useless.

"Now we talk about circumventing a Shield Charm," Snape's voice said from somewhere off to the left.

"Show yourself," she said. "It's disconcerting to take orders from an empty space."

"Ah, but you are supposed to sense me, Miss Granger."

She rolled her eyes and turned to face the door where she assumed he was.

"Over here," he said, and the smirk was evident in his voice.

She whirled. Then suddenly she could sense him, right behind her. Spice and Wool. She put out her hand and felt the heavy fabric of his robes, though she could not see them.

"But how--?"

"Because I cast Protego Horribilis."

"So I can touch you because I mean you no harm?"

"Apparently."

"But the Expelliarmus--"

"Any spell meant to harm--or in the case of Expelliarmus--to disadvantage me, will be repelled, regardless of the caster. Protego Horribilis would be a wise choice, should you find yourself among the Death Eaters."

"So if I were to cast something innocuous or something that would aid you, it would get through?"

"Such as?"

"The Disillusionment Charm. Remove it. I want to see if I can replace it."

Snape trickled into being before her. She waved her wand, and he melted from sight again. It was an extremely odd sight. Hermione had only ever Disillusioned herself; she hadn't realized that the uncomfortable sensation of being slowly engulfed had a visual counterpart.

She smiled to herself. If she were captured, Snape would be able to cast spells to assist her. He could also hex her without effect, preserving his role as a spy. This was valuable information. She thought of the lessons he had given her. You now have two serviceable disguises at your behest... If I see it, I'll need to know that it is you... I, myself, tend to use the night sky... Protego Horribilis would be a wise choice, should you find yourself among the Death Eaters. Whatever Dumbledore had intended her to learn, Snape was teaching her to survive.

Suddenly, Hermione felt much lighter than she had in weeks. It would be all right. She had done the right thing. Snape was... well, he was Snape, and not a thing could be done about it. But he would help her, and she would help him. And they got on as well as could be expected, didn't they? She had to admit that she enjoyed their verbal duels. It wasn't a marriage, not by a long shot, but it was a plan.

"Remove the charm, Miss Granger," he said, and she did, revealing him.

"I meant the Protego Totalum," he sneered.

Just as she raised her wand, he hissed in pain, his eyes squeezing to slits.

"Professor! I swear I didn't--"

"Use your brains," he managed to growl. "I'm still wearing the Shield."

"Then what--?"

"I'm being summoned."

Her heart seemed to drop into the pit of her stomach. Summoned.

Snape quickly removed the Shield Charm and said, "Accio robes and mask!"

She watched in silent horror as the trappings of the Death Eaters soared across the room and into his grasp.

"You'll need to inform the Headmaster," he said as he brushed past her, preparing to leave.

"Wait," she said, grabbing his arm. He turned toward her, and there was nothing of the man she had known over the last several days in his eyes. She quickly released him.

"Yes?"

"If he knows... then won't you need to take him something?" She could not let him walk out of here without a story. He had spent these holiday lessons preparing her; now, she must prepare him.

"What are you blathering about, Miss Granger? The longer I delay, the worse--"

"I assume you've told him that you are using me to gain information about Harry--that you've... seduced me?"

He said nothing, but continued to stare menacingly into her eyes.

"Take this," she said and opened the clasp of her robes.

"Miss Granger!"

"Trust me," she said firmly and ripped her tie free. She undid the top few buttons of her shirt and took hold of his arm once more, gazing adoringly into his eyes.

"Professor Snape, Harry suspects that Draco Malfoy is up to something! He's been following him around the castle--he thinks that Draco might have had something to do with the necklace that cursed Katie Bell! I'm frightened, Professor. Will you look into it?"

Snape's eyes were completely unreadable, but he smoothed a hand over her hair and said, "Never fear, Miss Granger. Of course I will look into it. But do tell Mr Potter not to do anything rash. Draco Malfoy is a powerfully connected wizard. It would not do to tangle with him."

"Thank you, sir," she simpered.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he replied, and she could not tell whether it was a part of the scene she had so hastily set up or something else.

Snape said nothing else, but fled the room in haste, leaving her alone in his office. She stood there for a few minutes, overcome by what had just happened. Pacing did nothing to ease the crawling panic that had infected her bloodstream. Please, God, she thought. Please, God. Please, God. Seemingly capable of no more coherent thought, and unwilling to stand there uselessly any longer, she buttoned up her shirt, replaced her tie, straightened her robes and set out for Professor Dumbledore's office.

***

Snape's thoughts were tinged with pain and confusion as he strode down the corridor. Only a few more minutes to the Apparition point, if the staircases cooperated, and the end of the burning in his left forearm. He had stayed too long; the pain was already reaching a fever pitch. He remembered the Dark Lord's first summons upon his return to power. That night, Snape had needed to wait an hour before joining him. It was not a pain he ever wished to revisit, and every twinge and burn now brought its memory. What in bloody hell could Voldemort want? He was not supposed to be summoned during the holidays; the Dark Lord had agreed, with so few around the castle, his absence would be noted, far more so than when the halls teemed with students. His skin prickled with apprehension.

Compounding it all, his arm still seemed to tingle where Miss Granger had grabbed him. The girl had flummoxed him. Not because she had so quickly grasped what would be necessary--for all he hounded her about original thought, she'd never had a dearth of it--but that she would be willing to debase herself so fully. It boggled his mind. He was only a half-blood and because of it, he had taken great pains all his life to never appear at a disadvantage. That she, a Muggle-born, whose worth would always be questioned, would be willing to appear foolish and naïve in front of so powerful a wizard as the Dark Lord... well, he didn't know whether to admire or berate her. Perhaps it was genius; perhaps they would lull the evil bastard into a sense of complacency, but he still felt it was a terrible risk. He would not have asked it of her; he'd have found some other way, something he could twist...

He thought again of her words, Harry suspects that Draco Malfoy is up to something! Clever thing. It seemed she'd learned the most important lesson of all without his ever having to instruct her: you always lie with the truth.

By the time he'd left the castle, he was nearly running for the Forbidden Forest. He shrugged on his robes as soon as he'd reached the cover of the trees, thrust the mask to his face and touched the Dark Mark with his wand. The end of the pain coincided with the pressure of Apparition, leaving him feeling empty and nauseated. When he reappeared, he was unsure to where he had arrived. The room was large, and the walls were stone. Other Death Eaters were present, and he slipped soundlessly into their ranks, but not before he was noticed.

"Severus!"

He stepped forward, fell to his knees, and took the hem of the Dark Lord's robes between his fingers, lowering his face to kiss it.

"You're late."

"Forgive me, my Lord. It took me a few moments to break away unnoticed."

"I do hope you've brought enough intelligence to justify your continued presence at Hogwarts."

Snape raised his face to the serpentine wizard's eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

"Not yet, Severus," Voldemort chuckled coldly. "So many of my loyal servants risk so much, while you dwell under the school's protection. Tonight, I wish them to hear what you bring me, to know what is gained behind those walls."

"Very well, my Lord," he said, thinking, Lucius. Lucius had been whispering in the Dark Lord's ear. Tales of his interference in Draco's plan, perhaps, or even less. His jealousy was hardly misplaced; he sat in Azkaban while Snape lived in relative comfort--not that Azkaban was the horror it had once been with the Dementors on the side of the Dark Lord and the Ministry slowly being infiltrated. Messages were passed in and out with ease, and Snape thought bitterly that Lucius should consider it a holiday of sorts. He lived within confines that kept him relatively safe and was required to do little more than languish to be considered loyal.

"Potter was shipped to the Burrow for the holidays, along with Weasley. There is heavy Order presence in the house."

"Not kept at Hogwarts, then?"

"No, my Lord. Dumbledore is often absent. I don't think he wishes Potter to remain there without his presence."

"Where is Dumbledore? I would think he would be reluctant to leave his precious school unattended?"

"He leaves it in the care of the werewolf and the Metamorphmagus. He feels that is protection enough."

"Foolish, foolish."

"Indeed, my Lord. The Order is not gaining numbers as quickly as they might have hoped. Their presence in the Ministry remains static. They have not inducted Potter, nor any student sympathizers."

"Interesting."

"However, their main focus remains on Potter. They set much store by the prophecy, though they pretend to disdain it. I am certain that Dumbledore is giving the boy private instruction that even the Order is not privy to. I suspect it has something to do with his prolonged absences."

"You must make yourself privy to it, Severus. I will not tolerate--"

"Yes, my Lord. I am developing a source."

"Potter's friend?"

There were a few hushed murmurs among the Death Eaters. "Yes, my Lord."

"Is she proving a valuable contact?"

Snape smirked. "She is. Just this morning she told me that Potter suspects Draco Malfoy of some kind of treachery and says Potter's been following him. I told her to leave it to me, that I would sort it out, and to warn him off going to Dumbledore with it."

The Dark Lord nodded and looked at him thoughtfully with his glowing red eyes. "Have you bedded her?"

Snape leered in response, turning up the corners of his mouth. "As disgusting as it is to rut with a Mudblood, there is no faster way into a foolish, young girl's heart. They equate pleasure with love."

At this, he heard some appreciative laughter.

Voldemort could apparently wait no longer. He seized Snape's face in his hands and hissed, "Legilimens!"

Snape had been ready. He'd suspected that no matter what the Dark Lord said, he would want some tangible evidence of his time with Miss Granger.

As the wizard penetrated his mind, he allowed the girl's image to float to the surface, remembering her as she had been, lying on his couch after their vigorous attempt at Occlumency, frightened but still trusting. Slowly, he substituted flashes from their wedding night: a bared leg, a gasping mouth, a smooth expanse of skin. He gave him her face, open and questioning, then relaxed and sated, and finally, he played her gift to him, her words. I'm frightened, Professor. Will you look into it?

Suddenly, Voldemort's attention turned. Snape could feel him ruffling through his memories, searching for something. He offered Dumbledore, ordering him to train Miss Granger; Draco, insisting that he needed no help; hexing Potter during class. The Dark Lord moved faster and faster through his thoughts, seeming to be unsatisfied by what he found there. Finally, Snape reluctantly gave up a memory he had hoped to keep: Miss Granger, sleeping, tucked into the crook of his arm. Then, He thinks that Draco might have had something to do with the necklace that cursed Katie Bell! Voldemort quickly withdrew.

"I had heard of a cursed student at Hogwarts," Voldemort purred, "though Dumbledore did his best to hush it up. Tell me, Severus, did Draco participate?"

"He says he did not, my Lord."

"But you think otherwise."

"It is not my place to speculate. Draco's actions are between the two of you."

"Yet, you press him for details of his plan."

"I seek only to aid him, my Lord."

"Narcissa has told me of your vow."

"If I had not been certain that she would, I would have brought it to your attention immediately."

"Would you? Lately, I have found you... secretive."

"My Lord, I offer you my mind. What secrets could I be hiding?"

"Why could I find no evidence of the vow in your memories?"

"But doesn't its very absence assure you?" Snape asked silkily. "If I felt I had done something to displease you, if I had tried to hide it, a Legilimens of your skill would have found it immediately."

Voldemort gave him a measuring look, but nodded.

"Very well. I find your news acceptable. But I warn you, Severus. Do not interfere with Draco Malfoy. As you said yourself, he is mine to control."

At this, Snape knew that he had won, though at what cost he dared not consider. The Dark Lord had dismissed Lucius's comments as unfounded, and the others--he thought he recognized Yaxley, Macnair, and Bellatrix Lestrange's forms among them--would be satisfied that he continued to serve them. However, he feared for Draco. His mishap with the Bell girl had been revealed, and now Lucius with his sneaky tongue would be, once more, the subject of the Dark Lord's ire.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Bellatrix! Approach me."

Snape watched as various Death Eaters were brought from the ranks to account for their whereabouts and actions, much as he himself had done. He resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot. It would not do to incur the Dark Lord's wrath, having just taken such measures to avoid it--not that the doings of Walden Macnair were particularly scintillating. However, he knew he must remember every word. He would have to bring this to his other master upon his return.

***

He climbed the spiral steps wearily and tried to be grateful that he could climb them at all. It was harder and harder to believe that he was doing anyone any good. All the secrets passed back and forth, all the reporting. He found it easy to lose track of whom he was spying for. Dumbledore had best make this quick. He craved the silence of his own chambers, some tea, perhaps something stronger, and rest.

He knocked and entered, finding Dumbledore at his regular perch behind his desk.

"Are you well?" the old man asked.

"As can be expected."

"Hermione came by hours ago. I admit I had begun to worry."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Don't trouble yourself."

"I assume he asked after her?"

"He did."

"And?"

"I gave him what he wanted--news that only she could give me."

"Which was?"

"That Potter suspects Malfoy."

"Severus!"

"Don't start. It was your precious Miss Granger's idea. She planted the memory on me just before I left."

"Did we not agree that you were to keep Draco's plan from Hermione?" Dumbledore was quiet with rage.

"I've kept your secrets, old man. She knows nothing of Draco's plan."

"Then why would she suggest such a thing?"

"Perhaps because it is true? Potter has never had an ounce of anything but suspicion for Draco, for any Slytherin! She says he's been following Draco about the castle, watching him. She seemed to feel, and I agreed, that this is what the Dark Lord would be expecting to hear from her lips. Not plans, not strategy! Just simple, teenaged rumours and grudges."

"I see."

Snape sat and fumed. How dare he question their methods? It was on Dumbledore's orders that he became a spy, joined the Order, married the girl. It was on Dumbledore's own orders that he would kill the venerated old wizard and become an outlaw. Protect Malfoy. Protect Granger. Protect Potter. "You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

"You gave me your word, Severus."

"And I've kept it! Through it all I've kept it."

And because he was too tired to fight anymore, and because it wouldn't matter even if he weren't, he said, "Bellatrix Lestrange has moved something of the Dark Lord's into her vault at Gringotts." Then he stood and swept into the Floo.

***

She was somewhere in his chambers. He could tell it instantly as he stepped from the fireplace. Was there no end to the snooping, the spying? What was it she had said the day before? You could have asked. I would have told you anything you wanted to know. She pretended at trust and honesty, but she snuck around his home while he risked his life to protect hers. Well, he would find her. And when he did, he would scare the life out of her and remind her on whose turf she treaded.

As he had done so often over this holiday break, Snape Disillusioned himself and cast the Muffliato charm over his body. He crept from his study into the sitting room, glancing at the bookshelves where he had expected to find her. His bedroom? He proceeded through the sitting room to the bedroom, wondering idly what he would do if he found her in his bed. But she was not there, either. Could he be mistaken? Had he simply hoped that she would be there?

He returned to the sitting room and was considering checking the bathroom when he saw her. She was curled, asleep, wrapped in the blanket he'd summoned for her the day before. Her mouth was slack, and her hair spread wildly over the arm of the couch. She looked, to him, simultaneously like an exhausted child and an exhausted angel. He sat in an armchair across from her and watched her sleep for a time, thankful for the charms that kept him silent and invisible. What was she doing here? He told himself that she had simply wanted to make sure he had not revealed anything further about their relationship to Voldemort. She had been violently ill when she'd learned that the Dark wizard knew of her; surely, she wanted assurance that she was not in any more peril than before. It was surprising that Dumbledore had not offered to reassure her after debriefing him, but... here she was. He was grateful that she was asleep, that there would be no more harsh words today, that he could pretend that someone had waited so many hours to make sure he was all right.

She stirred a bit in her sleep then and gathered her hair to one side. He thought it best not to examine the pang of loss that he felt when so much of that snarled bramble patch disappeared from view. "You're back," she murmured.

He smiled ruefully, though she could not see him.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" She was starting to rise now, and the pitch of her voice rose simultaneously. "Professor? Where are you?"

He removed the charms and stood before her. Her eyes drank him in, searching over his skin inch by inch. When she had seemed to satisfy herself that he was unblemished, she sighed and said, "Thank God," sinking back down to the couch.

He sat beside her. "Your plan worked," he told her quietly.

She nodded. "Good."

He leaned back against the firm padding of the couch and flicked a fire into the grate with his wand. She gazed into it, and it seemed that the flames lulled her back into sleep. He stared into them himself for an indeterminable amount of time before he followed her.