Making Plans

Chapter 2 – Making Plans

The spring term seemed to fly by, weeks turning to months in a matter of seconds. There was a flurry of activities, students and teachers doing what they could to stay calm and focus on education, even though the wizarding society in general was under constant attacks from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. There were no big, open battles, but people kept disappearing, only to be found weeks later, dead, or even worse, driven insane by continuous exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Dark creatures attacked people at regular intervals, and strange happenings had become the norm. People didn't know who to trust anymore, as an old friend could suddenly turn against you, controlled by the Imperius Curse, and put their wand to your throat. Hogwarts remained unscathed by actual attacks, but suspicion and fear weighed heavy on the castle. If the Slytherins had been disliked before, it was nothing compared to the current situation. Emotions were running high, and it was clear that things wouldn't be able to last much longer. Luckily, the summer holidays were near.

For the Golden Quartet in general, Occlumency had become the number one priority--even topping Defence Against the Dark Arts. For Hermione, it was even more than that. She knew that she was having a lot more lessons than her friends and that Snape was driving her a lot harder than he and Dumbledore drove any of the others, including Harry. She wondered about it, but didn't ask. She trusted Dumbledore, and she trusted Severus. She would be told eventually. Acting on inexplicit orders from her Potions master, she didn't tell her friends about her rigid training schedule. Just like she didn't tell them about the personal relationship that was blossoming between herself and her teacher. For once, she stayed quiet and observed rather than throwing herself into things, demanding answers.

Once she took this step, her perspective of things changed, and she saw the situation with new eyes. Things that hadn't made sense before suddenly became much clearer. She realised, for example, that Ron wasn't getting the same training as the rest of them. He and Ginny had one Occlumency lesson per week each, while Harry had three and she herself usually about four or five (although her friends only knew about the one she had directly after Ginny's lesson). Whereas Ginny would always come out of the dungeons pale as a ghost and mentally drained, Ron came out of Dumbledore's office not much worse for the wear. It seemed Dumbledore put more time on training him to withstand the Imperius Curse, rather than practicing Occlumency. She wondered why.

Her own skills in the obscure branch of magic were developing rapidly. She could soon close Snape out of her mind completely. She then went on to train with Dumbledore twice a week, while Snape went on to teach her a more subtle skill: letting oneself be read while keeping control over the memories shown to the intruder. Lessons with Dumbledore were very different from what she'd known thus far. Whereas Snape needed his wand to break into her head, Dumbledore did it with a single glance. There were no flashing memories where the Headmaster was concerned, at least not as first--as he seemed to wander through her mind on tip toe, dressed in an invisibility cloak, examining her memories and thoughts at his leisure. This was the difference between her two teachers, she realised: one was an Occlumens and the other was a Legilimens. They complemented each other, making sure her training covered everything. She soon started to have suspicions as to why.

Severus Snape was sitting in Dumbledore's office, across the desk from the Headmaster, who eyed him with a serious look on his face. It was nearly midnight, a cool night at the end of May. The castle was silent, an owl flying past the window from time to time, leaving for its nightly hunt. Dumbledore poured two cups of tea and turned towards his Potions master.

"How are things progressing, Severus." The dark man opposite him took a sip of his tea and put down the cup.

"Which front would you like me to divulge first?" he asked, moving the spoon around in smooth circles.

"Any news about Voldemort?" Snape shook his head.

"Nothing for a while now. The last general summons came in the beginning of March, as you know. I saw Lucius on Friday, as usual. Nothing new. But then, I'm only told what the Dark Lord deems fit to tell me." Dumbledore sighed. Things were certainly locked at the moment. In a way, he was happy about it. It gave Harry some more time.

"What about Hermione, then?" he asked, taking a cookie from a jar and pushing it across the desk.

"You're the Legilimens, you tell me. I don't get through with my wand anymore, so I can't really check her abilities," Snape answered smoothly, taking a cookie as well.

"It seems that she's able to detect my intrusion about seventy percent of the time, which is a little odd, as she used to be able to achieve ninety a few weeks ago. Any theories as to this relapse?" A smile spread slowly on the Potion master's face.

"I believe so. Tell me, when you manage to break through, what do you see?" Dumbledore shifted in his chair.

"Well, that was actually one of the other things I wanted to talk to you about, Severus. I thought we'd agreed not to tell her about the planned mission until she was fully able to protect her mind," he said, his voice curious rather than accusatory. Snape's smile widened.

"What did you see?" Dumbledore looked decidedly uncomfortable. He took a long sip of his tea before finally speaking.

"I saw the two of you... in bed... talking about the war. You were discussing different ways to infiltrate the Death Eaters and how to overcome the fact that she was Muggle-born," Dumbledore said in an uneasy voice. Snape just smirked. "I must stress, Severus, how utterly depraved this situation makes me feel. Why, I can't get through a single Occlumency session without getting a very vivid reminder of how badly I'm neglecting my moral responsibilities as Headmaster of this school. I feel like the worst kind of voyeur." Snape's smile grew wider and Dumbledore shot him a reproving look. "Really, Severus, this isn't a laughing matter. I--"

"What was she wearing?" Dumbledore choked on the tea he'd just taken into his mouth.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Trust me, this is relevant. What was Hermione wearing in the memory you saw?" Dumbledore just stared at him for a few seconds, and then he started to massage his temples with one hand, seemingly thinking hard.

"I'm not entirely sure, since I do my very best not to notice what either of you are wearing--or rather not wearing--on these occasions, but I believe it was something green. A negligee of sorts perhaps?" His line of thought was interrupted as the man across from him suddenly began to laugh--a big hearty laugh that echoed against the stone walls of the round office. He hadn't heard Severus laugh like that in years, possibly decades, and his features softened. Perhaps there was a bright side to all this darkness and depravity. His Potions master was decidedly happier now than he'd been six months ago. Still, the fact that he was actually allowing a teacher/student relationship to go on in his school ate at his conscience...

Snape stopped laughing and took a sip of his tea. The smile hadn't died from his lips, however, and he looked... almost smug. This could not be good.

"Pray tell me, Severus, why would Hermione Granger's bedclothes be so very funny in this context?" he asked, hoping against hope that the answer wasn't something he really didn't want to know.

"Because," Snape's upper lip curled again and the glint in his eye came back, "that green negligee doesn't exist. It's just a figment of her imagination, a tool she uses when practicing advanced levels of Occlumency. The scene you witnessed never took place. I've not told her about your little plan, and we certainly never discussed it. Well, I guess this answers your earlier question about how much she's progressed. I must say that I'm rather proud of her."

"You don't mean to say... that instead of just closing her mind to me, she's actually letting me enter, manipulating what I see in there? How is it possible that she's already reached that level?" Snape chuckled.

"What can I say? She's a very diligent student. And obviously quite perceptive if she's managed to figure out what's in store for her all on her own." Dumbledore just nodded, lost in thought.

"Imagine what we could achieve if we could make Harry reach that level." Snape's face grew cold.

"Potter's greatest problem is that he lets his emotions run away with him. He doesn't take the subject seriously enough. Also, I'm inclined to believe that he's not naturally gifted at Occlumency."

"Harry has made great progress in little more than a year, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "The boy's been through a lot, we must make allowances." Snape scowled at that.

"The boy needs discipline, Albus! He needs something to work for, to work towards, something to take his mind off his oh-so-sad, hormonal teenage thoughts for a while." The two men eyed each other carefully, knowing how thin the ice was where they trod. Finally, Snape spoke again, "Why don't you train him?" Dumbledore looked down into his tea cup.

"I am training him."

"No, you're not, not where it matters. Forgive me for saying this, but you're only a passable Occlumens yourself. You cannot teach the boy the subtleties of that art." Snape suddenly got to his feet, anger showing on his face. "Potter has a direct magical link to the Dark Lord's mind! The possibilities are endless! He would never suspect an internal attack like that, especially after experiencing how weak the boy's mental defences were last year. Train him to be a Legilimens and start taking advantage of this position instead of seeing it as a liability only."

"It would be dangerous, I'm not sure--" Snape cut him off.

"It's all about precious Harry Potter and the precious little prophecy," he hissed, eyes flashing. "The rest of us be damned as long as he's alive and happy, isn't that so? Let me risk my life, throw Hermione into the arms of the Death Eaters. As long as Potter sits snug as a bug in Gryffindor tower eating lemon drops, things are just fine. Well, they're not. The ritual clearly dictates four participants. Hermione and I aren't disposable any more. You need us on your side." With that, he turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

"Severus, wait." He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. "What is it that you want?" Snape smiled; that was one of his very favourite questions.

"Hermione wants to learn wandless Legilimency. I expect you to teach her. If she's going to be thrown into the serpent's lair, she should at least be able to know what the serpents are thinking. And I want you to train Potter. It would be highly useful. I'll see him once a month to evaluate his progress. Goodnight, Dumbledore." He left the tower quickly before the Headmaster had the time to object to his demands. Watching him leave, the old man thoughtfully brought a cookie to his lips.

Severus, dear boy, he thought, I wonder if you even realise how deep she's getting under your skin? I dearly hope that you will be able to handle it.

Walking over to a cupboard, he pulled out his Pensieve and started the process of clearing his mind.

Hermione was waiting for him as he came back to his quarters. Curled up in a big chair in front of the fire, she had a book in her lap and seemed absorbed in her reading. He leaned against the door for a while, letting his eyes sweep over her form, from her loose, curly hair to her bare feet, which were dangling carelessly over one armrest. He felt a small spark go through him, leaving an odd happy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Normally, such a thing would have worried him, but as things were, he didn't care. He remembered the potion they'd taken, remembered brewing it, down to the last ingredient. Until such a time as the antidote made its way into their bodies (which was most probably never going to happen), they were both incapable of falling in love. Not that he would fall for her, mind. Every night, whatever new feeling of the more tender kind that might have been born in his heart was removed and stocked into the fuzzy part of his brain where dreams lived. Every morning he would wake up, as emotionally free as ever, and so would she. He could recall the memories of a time when she'd actually loved him (or claimed she had at least), but it was only words to him now. Accessing that part of his memory was similar to reading about it in an old journal. He could vaguely remember that he'd felt something when she'd looked at him with those deep hazel eyes and told him that she loved him. He just couldn't feel it anymore. And he wasn't really sorry about that. He liked their present situation. It was safe. No strings, no worries, and, above all, no sentimentality. They talked, they trained, they fucked. Simple as that. He hadn't felt this good in... well, ever.

"How did things go with Professor Dumbledore?" He blinked and returned to reality. Hermione had put her book down and was eyeing him with interest.

"Quite well. I believe congratulations are in order." He smirked. She moved out of the chair, slipping easily into his arms.

"Will he train me?" Her voice was almost giddy.

"Yes, he will. And you've apparently also managed to hoodwink one of the most powerful Legilimenses of our time. Tell me, do you include sexual elements to disturb him or is that your way of making sure he doesn't examine your constructions too closely?"

"Both, to be perfectly honest." She turned away and walked towards the bed, letting her clothes fall to the floor, piece by piece. "Part of me just feels angry every time he breaks into my mind, and I suppose I want to get revenge over him on some level. I know it's illogical and that he only does it to help me, but somehow, I get the feeling that he's intruding on personal things, you know?" She removed her last piece of underwear and slipped into bed. He quickly followed her example.

He slid between the crisp sheets and pulled her close. She came willingly, rolling to capture him beneath her, pinning him down with her body as best she could. They kissed languidly, taking the time to taste and tease each other before moving on to more carnal activities. The impatient and almost desperate passion that had characterised their first month or so together had deepened and grown a myriad different faces. Sometimes, like tonight, it would be achingly slow. At other times, they wouldn't even make it to his bedroom. Her skin had been scraped against rough stone more times than she would care to count. Luckily, healing potions were easy to come by in his profession.

"Severus, can I ask you something?" Hermione wondered sometime later, lifting her head slightly from where it was resting on his chest.

"I suppose you want to know the details of Dumbledore's plan, don't you?" he said, stroking her hair absentmindedly. "I must admit that I was rather impressed with how much you seem to have worked out already."

"Well, it didn't take that much to see it," she protested. "Just the fact that I got four times as many Occlumency sessions as Ron or Ginny was enough to point me in the right direction. And then I have some vague memories of a big golden light. Something you'd care to help me sort out?" He considered his options for a moment. She was strong enough to protect the information about the ritual now, he knew that. On the other hand, he was dead tired and had an early class in the morning...

"As a matter of fact, you ought to be capable of retrieving most of your hidden memories, the ones regarding information that is, on your own. It's not too different from some of the techniques you've been practicing for Occlumency and Legilimency. Clear your mind, move into your subconscious and access the dream section of your mind. The memories you're looking for will all have something in common, something to make you recognise them. It's usually an object, something small and seemingly insignificant. Once you've found the pattern, the rest should take care of itself. We can talk more about what you find, as well as Dumbledore's plan, tomorrow." She nodded her acceptance, and he closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake him.

When he awoke the following morning, she was gone. He went up, had breakfast and left to teach his third-year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class. He didn't see her during lunch or dinner, and when she didn't come to his chambers later, he was starting to get annoyed. He figured that she'd probably found the memories she had been looking for and needed some time to process them. Still, he didn't like to spend a whole day not touching her.

The second day, the same thing happened, and on the third, he was in a rather bad temper. He'd seen her at times, sitting in the Great Hall, walking to class with her friends, and on other similar occasions when he couldn't approach her. Fortunately, this was one of her Occlumency days, and he didn't think she'd skive off one of their lessons--especially as he'd just made sure she'd get to learn wandless Legilimency. Sure enough, on the stroke of eight, the flames in the fire in his office turned their usual green, and Hermione stepped through. She brushed some ashes from her robes before walking over to where he sat by the desk. He wrote a last comment on the essay he was correcting and then put his things away. Before either of them said anything, she put down a thick scroll of parchment in front of him. Frowning, he picked it up and unrolled it.

"What is this?" he asked, frowning as he read the first line.

"It's a list of things I've found when looking through my mind these last few days," she replied. "I would like for you to go through them and tell me which ones actually happened."

"I see..." He scanned through the scroll and then handed it back to her. "As far as I can see, these are all real memories, Hermione. It looks like you're getting to know your mind quite well." She sank down into a chair across from him and let out a small sigh.

"So, what do we do now?" she wondered, looking up at him.

"Well, I suggest that we go back to my room and discuss the matter," he said, standing up and gesturing for her to follow him.

Upon reaching his quarters, Snape started a fire and conjured two comfortable armchairs and a small table in front of it. Putting his head in the flames, he ordered some tea and late-night snacks from the kitchens, which appeared on a tray just minutes later.

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" he said, pouring the steaming liquid into two cups. "How much have you figured out about the plans Dumbledore has for you?"

"Quite a lot, I think," she answered. "But I need you to confirm my theories." He nodded. "As I've understood it, Dumbledore means for me to go undercover for the Order along with you, and that's why it's so important that I learn Occlumency."

"Correct," Snape nodded. A quick smile crossed her face.

"Yes, well, that didn't require much to figure out. What I don't see is why, though. I mean, what sort of information could I get that you couldn't?"

"That depends entirely on how successful you are in your endeavour," he answered. "Walk in the right direction and you'll be amazed at the amount of information you could gather... and how great your power could be." He watched her carefully as her eyes lit up at his words before they narrowed in suspicion.

"And what will I have to do to get there?" He noted the use of the future tense rather than the conditional. She'd already made up her mind.

"It's very simple. Inside each and every person, there is darkness. Some choose to let it out, others keep it in tight check. You will have to move from the second category to the first, and I highly doubt that you will find it a positive experience, at least not in the beginning."

"I can handle it."

"You might think so now, Hermione, but nobody knows how deep the chasm is until they're balancing on the edge. And then it might be too late to save yourself from falling in."

"It doesn't matter. If I can do something this important to help my best friends and the Order, I'll to it. No matter how dark things get." She looked at him with a proud glint in her eyes, and he shook his head slightly.

"That Gryffindor attitude will get you killed in an instant, which in turn will possibly mean my death since I'll be the one to introduce you. If you're set on going through with Dumbledore's plan, we have a lot to do." She smiled.

"I'm ready, Severus."

"No, you're not. But you will be."

A couple of hours later, Hermione brought up a very practical problem with Dumbledore's plan.

"Severus, how will I manage to infiltrate the Death Eaters when practically everybody knows that I'm both Muggle-born and Harry's best friend? I'm the last person they should want."

"On the contrary. Your relationship with Harry will be your ticket to the inside circle."

"You mean letting them use me to get to Harry? How do we know that Voldemort won't just chain me up and send an owl to Harry, calling him to my rescue?"

"First of all," Snape's voice had dropped to a very low tone, and ice was creeping into his black eyes. "Don't ever pronounce that name. He is the Dark Lord or your master. Nothing else." She nodded her head, a bit shaken by his demeanour. "Secondly, the answer to your other question is: no, you don't know that. You could very well be dead or taken hostage within five minutes of your arrival at your first meeting. And yes, they will try to use you. Everybody tries to use everybody else--these are the rules of engagement. You play, or you die. It's really that simple.

"What if somebody orders you to do something you aren't able to do?"

"Then you either find a way of convincing them that their course of action is ill-conceived, or... you do it anyway. Usually, the second alternative keeps you alive a lot better than the first." She flinched at that.

"So, how do we get around the fact that I'm Muggle-born?" she asked, wanting to focus on something other than the unpleasant scenarios that were forming in her head.

"We change it." She just stared at him.

"Um, I think too many people know the truth for that sort of lie to pass," she said.

"It won't be a lie. You'll be introduced to the Dark Lord as a half-blood--from one of the oldest blood lines, I might add," he stated, a slight smile on his face. Again, she found herself very confused.

"But both my parents are Muggles!"

"So people might think." An answering smile touched her mouth.

"Squibs?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "A Squib is even worse than a Muggle in wizarding hierarchy. No, the solution I had in mind is infinitely simpler. And more believable, I might add." He leaned closer, and she found herself mirroring his movement. "You see, Hermione, your father is not your real father."

She blinked. So simple. So wonderfully simple. She felt a twinge of unease at the thought of turning her family into a web of lies, but she had to admit that the plan was brilliant, unless...

"Severus, isn't there a charm to reveal family ties? One usually used when dividing up property or the like?"

"Yes, the Consanguine Revelare," he confirmed, taking another sip of his tea.

"Wouldn't Vol-- the Dark Lord be aware of that and use it to see if my story is true?"

"Yes, I'm quite certain that he would." She waited for him to continue, but he just sat there, a slight smile still on his face.

"And?" she said finally. "Wouldn't that void the plan?"

"Not necessarily." She opened her mouth to protest again, but he held up a hand to stop her. "The solution is there, Hermione. I trust you to find it for yourself. Consider this a first test."

Standing up, he waved his wand to clear the table, before vanishing it with a small 'pop'. The chairs went the same way, and he moved over to stand by the enchanted window, looking out at the dark night sky. She watched him silently from over by the fireplace, letting her eyes slide across his now familiar features. She'd never quite understood the other students' revulsion when it came to his looks. Sure, his nose was very prominent and his hair was a bit greasy, but those things seemed so very insignificant to her. There was so much more to him than individual features, and she'd always found him fascinating--even, as a younger student, when she was afraid of him. He radiated something unknown, which pulled her towards him as though invisible strings were attached to her body. It gave her an odd thrill.

Slowly, she crossed the room and moved over to him. Taking his hand, she casually led him over to the bed. It was only just past midnight after all...

When she awoke the next morning, the space next to her was empty, save for a folded piece of parchment lying on the pillow. She rolled over, picked it up and unfolded it with a curious look on her face.

I, Professor Severus Snape, hereby grant Miss Hermione Granger permission to retrieve books from the Restricted Section of Hogwarts library for the remainder of the spring term.

Signed

S. Snape

A huge smile spread across her face as she carefully refolded the piece of parchment. Quickly, she got out of bed to begin her research.

A/N: I'm rewriting some details in this story as I'm reposting it. Please review, I'd love to get some comments.