Two

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to JK Rowling. I write to learn. No money is being made.

Chapter 2

Hermione had been alarmed for sure, but as soon as she felt the pull of Apparation, she was angry too. In the few seconds it took to arrive wherever Snape intended, she formulated a plan. When her feet once again hit solid ground, she pushed as hard as she could. Snape slammed against a large dresser so forcibly that all of the contents of the top shelf either fell over or crashed to the floor.

Hermione didn't wait. She trained her wand over his heart as he slowly righted himself.

"Expelliarmus!" she cried. Instead of Snape's wand flying toward her, the man himself was propelled into her forcefully, knocking them both to the floor. The impact caused her to drop her wand. Hermione's heart had already been pounding from the fright she had felt at being dragged from the café and then essentially kidnapped; now it was threatening to burst from her chest as she lay under Snape's body.

At first she thought he'd been knocked unconscious, but slowly he lifted himself until his arms supported most of his weight.

He looked down at her and smirked, his hair falling just shy of her cheeks, his breath ragged. "Typical," he said finally.

For a brief instant, she thought he would kiss her, as he lowered himself toward her. Instead, he stopped impossibly close to her face, without touching her, and pushed up and to his left, flipping over to land beside her. Then he jumped to his feet.

Hermione took a few deep breaths before sitting up slowly. Snape had his wand out and was magically shutting all the windows. She kept her eyes on him and, as inconspicuously as possible, reached for her wand, which lay just a few feet from her hand.

"Let's not have a repeat of your ... heroics," he said smoothly. "You cannot so disarm me."

She said nothing but grabbed her wand, stood and rubbed her bum...which had hit the floor hard...and retrained her only weapon on him. They were in a drab bedroom: all the linens were grey, the furniture old, and the walls cracked. A small door presumably led to a bathroom, and through an open door across the room, Hermione could see a sofa and a large window.

Snape closed the last window and, without a glance at her, left for the other room. Hermione followed, annoyed that he was ignoring her. She watched as Snape closed all the windows and then disconnected the phone line, plugging it into a laptop computer. Her mind was spinning; seeing her very magically inclined professor now efficiently working with Muggle objects, electronics even, was puzzling to say the least.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice betraying her fear.

Snape held up a hand and scowled at her, then tugged off his blazer and tossed it on the sofa. He then pulled something small and black from its pocket. He pressed a button and a red light started blinking then went off after a few seconds. "Bug killer."

Hermione stared at him. "A what?"

Snape held up the device; it was the size of a Muggle pager and had a small LED screen on it, now blank. "We're in a safe house, but one can never be too careful. As to your question, I believe you already know the answer."

"All I know is that you're a wizard. You could be impersonating Severus Snape."

He laughed wryly. "That's absurd. Why would I need to assume the appearance of a wizard when I'm living in the Muggle world? I could be anybody."

"Tell me something only Snape would know."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm certain there are quite a few pieces of my life of which you know nothing, rendering this line of questioning irrelevant. I could tell you I've been to the moon, and you wouldn't be able to prove me wrong."

"I know ... your memories ..." she said hesitantly.

Snape froze and glared at her. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I met Lily when I was nine."

"What was the first thing you said to her?"

"I said, 'It's obvious, isn't it? I know what you are. You're a witch."

Hermione relaxed a little. "Good."

"Your turn," Snape demanded coldly. "I need to make sure you are whom you appear to be and not an imposter."

She spoke without hesitation. "In third year you assigned an essay on werewolves. I learned about Professor Lupin by doing that essay."

He nodded curtly and then went to check on the progress of the laptop. When he turned his back to her, Hermione gasped at the sight of the gun. He must have heard her because he removed the gun from its holster and an extra magazine from his trouser pocket and set them on the coffee table.

"I want to know what's going on right now," Hermione said, eyeing the gun warily. She had more questions than words at the moment and wasn't sure which one to ask first.

Snape turned around and looked at her solidly for a few seconds, trying to decide exactly how much to divulge. "If you answer my questions, I may choose to provide you with ... certain information."

"I make no promises." Hermione stubbornly crossed her arms.

"Then you get no answers." He didn't think she had changed so much that she would be able to ignore the incentive to get the information she desired, even if it meant revealing things about herself in return. She'd been the most inquisitive student he had ever taught. Still, he wasn't ready to share as much as she would probably ask.

She glared at him so fiercely he nearly blinked. Nearly.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"What are you doing in Florence, and what were you doing at the café today?"

She huffed. "I'm here with Ginny Potter and Luna Lovegood. We're on holiday...Luna is getting married in a few weeks, and Ginny and I..."

Snape held up his hand. "Not interested in the details."

Hermione glared at him and clenched her jaw. "We had lunch today at the café across the street from the one where you were. Ginny saw you and dared me to talk to you."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"That's it."

He nodded once and turned to the laptop. Hermione waited impatiently until he returned his attention to her.

"I was at the café for a meeting," he began, casually taking a seat on the sofa as though there wasn't a semi-automatic pistol a few feet away. "You ... interfered."

She stared at him, waiting for him to continue because surely there had to be more. However, he said nothing further and sighed, glancing at his watch.

"That's it?" she asked, annoyed.

He tilted his head to one side. "That's it."

She gaped, incredulous, then took a few calming breaths and then launched into a string of questions. "Why did you kidnap me? Where are we? Why do you need a safe house and a bug killer, and why do you have a gun?"

He raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "I 'kidnapped' you to keep you safe. We are, as I said, in a safe house in the heart of Florence. I need the safe house to keep me safe...and now you as well...the bug killer to kill any potential bugs in the room, and the gun is for my protection. Obviously."

Hermione looked at him, unimpressed. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"In the future, I suggest you ask questions in such a way as to get the information you desire. Of course I knew what you meant, but there are reasons why I cannot answer you."

"I don't care..." she began.

Snape spoke over her, casting an annoyed glare in her direction. "Do not think for an instant that I expect you to let this go or to simply accept what I have told you. You must do as I am doing and wait."

"For what?"

"Information."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Snape jumped up from the sofa and strode quickly to the door.

"Who's there?" he asked in Italian.

"The barmaid," came a woman's voice, also in Italian.

Snape opened the door, and Hermione was surprised to see, not a barmaid, but a woman with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail, smartly dressed in a fitted pantsuit saunter into the room. Snape shut the door behind her.

The woman glanced from Snape to Hermione and raised an eyebrow. "This is the girl?" she said in English now.

Snape nodded.

Hermione's patience, already thin, was on the verge of snapping. "I am not a girl," she said with disdain, glaring at the newcomer.

The woman raised an eyebrow and glanced once more at Snape. "What happened?"

"Shouldn't we discuss this somewhere more ... private?" he asked.

"What does she know?"

"You could just ask me, you know," Hermione said calmly.

Both Snape and the woman looked at her.

"I'm Claire," said the woman, crossing the room to Hermione and extending her hand. "And you are?"

"Rebecca Hammond."

Claire smiled. "Rebecca. That's a lovely name. So...what do you know?"

"My guess is that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Snape chuckled darkly. "The ... meeting was botched, Claire. When ... Rebecca ..." ...he gave Hermione an intense look... "sat at my table, I thought she was my contact. It soon became clear this was false thinking."

Claire folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "You took a sugar cube."

"Contact was made. There were no stipulations requiring I confirm it at that stage."

Claire paced and then stopped, looking at Hermione. "Why did you approach Clint? Do you know him?"

Hermione glanced from Claire to Snape. He hadn't specifically told her whether his status as a wizard was known, nor had he warned her not to mention it. However, if he was going by an alias, then there was a good chance he didn't want the truth revealed, even to this woman with whom he appeared to work. "He was my chemistry teacher. Once."

"Teacher?" Claire looked at Snape. "You were a teacher?"

Snape held Hermione's gaze and nodded. "Yes. Once." He very slightly inclined his head toward Hermione, then looked at Claire. "It was a long time ago," he said, his expression impassive.

"A teacher ... Well, nothing really surprises me about you anymore, Clint. You took a sugar cube...we initiated the exchange. When the second one was taken by," ...Claire glanced at Hermione... "her, they thought we were somehow double-crossing them."

"What happened?"

"One of our people was shot in the leg. He'll be fine," Claire added quickly. "But our relationship with Red Fox is now tenuous at best."

Snape cursed and began to pace. "Can it be repaired? Is there a way to explain what happened?"

Claire scoffed. "You can't explain things to terrorists, and you know it. The question now becomes how do we complete the transaction, sell the device, and get paid? Be thankful it's the Red Fox who is willing to negotiate for this item. If we were dealing with another organization ... the L'invisibile, for example, then your former student, here, would really have bollocks'd it up for us, and we'd all be dead."

"What about ... her?" Snape indicated Hermione with a nod of his head.

"What about me?" Hermione demanded, feeling overwhelmed at what she did and did not understand about their conversation.

Claire looked at her. "As I said, you interfered, apparently unknowingly. The Red Fox...a name you need not concern yourself with...was certainly watching the exchange and now has a picture of you and probably already knows more about you than you do. Soon your face will be circulating all over the networks. People want to know who you are. Unfriendly people."

For a moment, Hermione panicked, and then it all started to get jumbled in her head. The primary danger, as far as she could see, was that the Muggles would discover she was a witch and then, as a result of saying Snape had once been her teacher, he would be discovered as a wizard. A secondary danger, as yet unqualified and unquantified, was the number of terrorist groups who might want her harmed or worse, and for reasons she couldn't fathom.

Hermione sank onto the sofa.

"That is a very relevant point," said Snape. "Miss – Rebecca will stay here,"...the subtle command wasn't lost on Hermione's dazed understanding..."while we finish our conversation in the other room." Snape ushered Claire from the sitting room, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

Her mind raced with the implications of all that Claire and Snape had said. They were obviously spies. Was Snape working for the good guys or bad? Was it true that a terrorist organization was now compiling a file on her?

Hermione shook her head and thought about Snape. He looked ... good. Ginny and Luna had no idea that as she approached Snape's table...was it possible it had only been half an hour ago?...her palms had started to sweat, her heart had raced, and nerves had bundled in her gut.

When the truth of what Snape had done was revealed, about the sacrifices he had made, the full extent of his double life, and especially the depth of his love for Harry's mother, Lily, the wizarding world at large had been quick to embrace him. It had exonerated him long before the Ministry did, praising him relentlessly for the incredible things he had done for Harry, the Order, and the world itself. It was easy: Snape wasn't there to deny or discourage it. The mystery of Snape's disappearance had only fueled the speculation and mystery. Some even claimed that Lily was still alive somehow and that he had finally gone to be with her.

Hermione had never believed it, knowing full well that if Lily Potter were alive, nothing would have kept her away from her son. Still, it was a very romantic notion. Women all over Britain talked about what an incredible man Snape was, how alluring, intelligent, and sexy. Hermione had always thought them slightly touched; they obviously had never spoken a single word to the man. Nevertheless, as Hermione did her own research into Snape's relationship with Lily, talking to their former classmates and teachers, she began developing complex feelings for the missing man.

He had loved Lily Potter so much that he had essentially given his entire life to her. From the time he had first met her as a young boy, he had adored her, and as they had grown older, he'd fallen in love with her. He had made a fatal mistake, brought about by his weakness for not only the Dark Arts, but also to a much more common one: the desire to belong. His disastrous decision had led to the death of the only person he had ever truly cared about, and it had broken him. He had then dedicated the rest of his life to restitution.

It had been that love which had touched Hermione's heart. Love worth dying for, worth living an unsatisfying, dangerous double life ... That was the kind of love she wanted to inspire, and she had been certain she would find it in her longtime friend and childhood crush. However, it had not taken her long to realize that Ron Weasley was as romantic as a block of corrugated steel.

Hermione's pining for the kind of love Snape had for Lily had gradually turned into nebulous feelings for the man himself. As time distanced her from the last occasion on which she'd seen him...when she had Conjured the vial in which Harry had collected his memories in the Shrieking Shack...it became easier to admire him. He wasn't around to snarl, growl, threaten, or hex her or anyone she knew. This somewhat delusional view of Snape had been part of what had prompted her to accept Ginny's dare so quickly. Even his abrupt manner at the table hadn't been enough to still the swells of excitement in her heart.

A sound from the next room interrupted Hermione's thoughts, and she bit her lip and then stood to pace for something to do. She thought about Claire and wondered if she and Snape were lovers. A tiny, nearly imperceptible twinge of something akin to jealousy pulsed through Hermione.

Hermione looked at the gun on the table, the hard evidence that she knew little about the man, despite all the research she had done on him after his disappearance. And yet, he had protected her ... at the café, and now with his colleague. It was further proof, if she had needed it that he was the same man who had protected children he hadn't liked...hated, even...with his own life.

She spun on her heel and paced in the opposite direction.

The fact that Snape was a spy surprised Hermione. She had always assumed he had only accepted his former role out of guilt, fear, and an attempt at both revenge and absolution. He was excellent at the brewing of potions, and had she been asked to hazard a guess as to his occupation, she would have said he worked in that field. There must have been some aspect of being a spy that had appealed to Snape beyond the magical component if he sought a life as the Muggle version.

The door opened, and Hermione looked up to see Snape and Claire enter the room. She felt frustratingly out of her realm.

Claire strode to the shuttered windows while Snape resumed his seat in the chair. "We've received confirmation that Red Fox has identified you. It is likely that most, if not all, of the larger terrorist organizations in the world are seeing your face as we speak."

"What we need to know," interjected Claire, "is what they're going to find."

Hermione looked at Snape and for the first time saw trepidation in his eyes. She smiled primly at Claire. "My name is Rebecca Hammond. I am a Primary School teacher. I live in Bristol. I have very few friends, read all the time, have two cats, and no current boyfriend."

Claire's narrowed her eyes. "Is that true?" she asked, then shook her head. "No. I don't need to know if it's true. Will they be able to find anything when they go digging through your life? Parking ticket, speeding ticket, late credit card payment?"

"No," Hermione said without hesitation.

Claire huffed and returned to pacing the room.

Severus was thankful neither Hermione nor Claire had looked at him during their exchange. He was truly surprised by the answers Hermione gave. First, that she was a Muggle school teacher who lived alone and had no boyfriend...the cats were no surprise...and then at her insistence there was nothing to find. It piqued his curiosity, to say the least.

"How can you be so certain?" Claire asked.

Hermione scoffed lightly. "I think I would know my own record, don't you?"

"Clint is convinced that you might be competent to help us remedy this situation to the benefit of us all and remove you from the active interest lists."

"I take it that would be a good thing."

Claire smirked. "Unless you want people following you for the rest of your life, yeah."

Hermione glanced at Snape, who was watching her intently. "I'm listening."

Snape and Claire sat in the armchairs facing the sofa; Claire spoke. "Here's the thing, Rebecca. Your picture is out there and as I said, people will want to know who you are. You've been connected with us now,"...Claire glared at Snape..."and we don't want that. We want you ... off, back at whatever life you were living before."

"Me, too."

"Good. However, it's not a simple matter of letting you go. We need to complete the transaction with Red Fox and somehow explain you or show that you really aren't one of our or anybody's agents. You are a person of interest now, unfortunately for you. Once you've stepped into this world, however little, it's very hard to get out of it completely. There must be no doubt left in anyone's mind that you can never pose a threat again." Claire glanced at Snape.

"You must be convincingly dead," he said dispassionately.

Hermione gaped at him. "Dead?"

Claire laughed. "We won't actually kill you, just make it look like it. You'll have to change your name and move and start over, but it's better than being ... dead. We can't help you with that either."

Hermione digested the information and realized that only Rebecca Hammond, who lived in Bristol, would have to start over, not her. She would have to clear that up with Snape later.

"Not a problem," she said after a moment.

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Good. Ideally, we can contact Red Fox and ask them to repeat the mission that was botched, as it was supposed to happen, inserting you somewhere. Then, we can arrange for you to be taken out."

"How was the mission supposed to go?"

Snape spoke. "There were two segments taking place simultaneously. The objective was to exchange a device for payment; the device was to be given up and examined in one place, the funds in another."

"Which part did I interrupt?"

"The funds exchange, though the other segment was disturbed as a result. The two exchanges were coordinated, requiring first an examination of the device. Once that was approved, the funds would be inspected and then accepted."

"Oh. Are you going to tell me how this ... mission ... is supposed to go this time?"

"Clint can tell you the details later. We still have to contact Red Fox, and our window of opportunity to fix this is closing rapidly."

Snape looked at Claire. "How do you propose we get Rebecca involved and then ... killed?"

She thought for a moment, then said, "Well, Red Fox knows that you somehow got away from the scene with her. For all they know, we kidnapped her. If she were to approach Red Fox ... if we could boost her profile, make her somewhat desirable ... it might work ..."

"You left out the actual plan," Snape said testily. "Care to fill in the gaping holes?"

Claire gave him a scathing glance. "You, of all people, know that it takes more time to develop a plan which will go smoothly. I'll give you the details when I finish working them out."

"Acceptable," he said curtly.

"However," Claire added, "I'll be the one to 'kill' her."

Hermione jerked, but Snape ran a slender index finger around his pursed lips, deep in thought. After a moment he agreed. "Provided Miss Hammond trusts me, I will provide the weapon." He glanced at Hermione.

Hermione trusted Snape not to hurt her, but when it came to her life ... did that trust extend? It seemed impossible; she wasn't sure she'd trust Harry or Ron that much. But there was something indefinable that wrapped itself around in her mind, twisting and enveloping her thoughts. She realized she did trust Snape that much. Though she doubted she could articulate why.

"Okay," she said finally, meeting his expectant gaze.

He blinked and nodded once, surprise flitting across his face before he masked it. "Once Red Fox thinks you're dead, they will spread the news. You'll be free to return ... home."

She smiled weakly. "Home sounds really good."

ooo

Ginny and Luna were sitting in their hotel room that evening around dinnertime, not the least bit hungry. Ginny attempted to read and Luna to draw, hoping the activities would distract them enough to block their minds from wandering aimlessly to their friend and the possible horrors she was experiencing.

Ginny had returned to the restaurant, and even though it closed after lunch, the owner had let her in to check for fingerprints. She had returned to the hotel within an hour, immediately sending the samples to Harry.

"Ginny, are you there?"

"Harry! Coming!" She and Luna scrambled across the room and plopped onto the floor in front of the fireplace. Harry's head was nestled among brilliant green flames.

"Well?" asked Luna excitedly. "What did you find out?"

"Any word from Hermione?" Harry asked.

"No," replied Luna.

He sighed. "Most of the fingerprints you collected were not the waiter's...just the employees we know about...but there were a few partial prints that require further analysis. Hopefully, I'll get the results by tomorrow."

"Well, that's something at least," said Ginny.

Harry nodded. "There is some good news, however. I sent some of Snape's prints to Steve, who works at MI-6, and they were in the system. However, they aren't very useful. They weren't linked to any known illegal or terrorist activity. Suspicious, however, is the fact that the fingerprints reportedly belong to four different men...which is impossible. Either Snape was able to obtain the fingerprints of other men to use in his ... work, for lack of a better word, or he has a number of aliases."

"I don't know if that helps us or not," said Ginny.

"I have four names for you to inquire about around Florence. Use the phone in your room and call hotels, hostels, anywhere you can think, asking for these names. Something might turn up. Have you got something to write with?"

Ginny got up and scrounged through the drawers until she found a pen and something to write on. "I'm ready," she said, returning to her spot on the floor.

"Edgard Bontecou, Alexei Madatov, Carlo Renzetti and Gen Suen. There are no credit cards," ...Harry looked at Luna then ... "those are Muggle payment devices, registered in any of those names. This also leads me to believe these names are aliases. Whatever Snape does, he isn't going to leave more of a paper trail."

"Is he dangerous?" Luna asked, her expression thoughtful.

Harry frowned. "It's hard to tell without any direct evidence. I would say that he is capable of being dangerous...it's Snape...but we have no reason to believe he would hurt Hermione. From what I know of Snape, I think he'll be rude and unpleasant, but I don't think he would harm her. He knows he will have to let her go at some point and she has friends who wouldn't rest until she was avenged for whatever injuries she incurred from him."

"Anything else, Harry? What can we do?" Ginny pleaded. "I'm going nuts just sitting here; I hate feeling so useless."

"I know, Ginny, I know. At least you're there; I'm stuck in England for the night but I'll be there as soon as I possibly can. I've got a meeting I can't miss, and I moved it to first thing in the morning."

"At least you have things to do."

"True, thanks to Steve. However, it's also very important to be on Snape's trail. I'm keeping this investigation off the record for as long as I possibly can. The last thing we need is a press leak that Hermione has been kidnapped. If word gets about that it was Snape ... it could be a disaster, for everyone involved.

"Oh, there was one other thing. Snape's wand. I checked with the registry: he has had one wand since he was eleven. Thirteen and a half inches, mahogany, dragon heartstring core. He still has it, and it was last used earlier this afternoon."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" exclaimed Luna.

"Can you track it? Find out where he is?" Ginny asked.

"We're working on it. Trouble is we don't know if he last used it to Apparate, or if he used it after that. If the former, then it doesn't really tell us much since both of you already know he was in Florence this afternoon. There's no telling if we'll get anything; the tracking system is still in testing stages, and Snape's wand hasn't passed through Ministry security to be registered."

"Sounds like you've got quite a job ahead of you. Is there anything else we can do?" Ginny asked.

"I'd get a good night's rest if I were you. I'll Floo you in the morning. I'm two hours behind you, and I plan to head over to MI-6 to see a friend. Love you, Ginny. And please, both of you. Don't worry. I know that's like asking Snape not to pick on Gryffindors, but at least try."

"I love you too, Harry," Ginny replied, leaning forward to kiss him. "We can start calling hotels tonight. We'll be up a while longer if you need anything."

Harry nodded. "Goodnight, Ginny. Luna."

"Good luck, Harry," said Luna.

Harry looked once more at Ginny and then disappeared. The two women sat in silence, each deep in thought. Then Ginny spoke. "I'll call around if you look up numbers."

Luna nodded, and they went to the phone. Luna opened the phonebook and found the section for hotels.

"What's the first one?" said Ginny, picking up the phone, her brow furrowed in concern.

Luna frowned and closed the phonebook, using her wand as a page marker. "Ginny, I know you're an Auror and that Harry is part of a semi-secret division of Aurors in the Ministry. I don't know much about what he does, but ... how does he know so much about Muggle law enforcement? What is MI-6, and how does he know people there?"

Ginny smiled warmly at her friend. "I wondered when you would ask about all this. I'm not really supposed to say...Harry's job is very sensitive...but considering the circumstances, I think I can tell you enough."

"I would appreciate it," replied Luna.

"You're right. Harry is part of a special division of Aurors. He's only been there for a year, so he's relatively new, but he loves the work. Basically, his division handles cases similar to what happened to Hermione. When wizards commit Muggle crimes without magic, both wizards and Muggles are involved in the investigation. The Muggles don't know about magic of course; they think Harry and his coworkers work for a super secret division of the Muggle government.

"MI-6 is the British government's intelligence agency. Harry has made a friend or two there, and he's called them in the past and today, off record, for a few favors, such as running the fingerprints."

Luna nodded. "Oh. That makes sense." She reopened the phonebook. "Shall we begin then?"

ooo

Words: 5116

Beta Credits: I cannot thank my betas enough for their help on this story. This was my first sshg story and I'm pretty sure it will be obvious. This story is infinitely better thanks to their help. Special thanks to , for the many, many delightful and invaluable hours spent working with me on this. I have learned so much from you and just adore you! And to who encouraged me to join the exchange in the first place, coded with me at the last minute, and has been a wonderful help and source of many smiles. True friends, both of you!!!