Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All characters and settings of Potterverse are the property of J.K. Rowling and other sundry entities. Only the plot belongs to me. I am making no money. I play in this universe for the sheer joy of it. My only payment is the kind reviews and comments of those who read and enjoy my tale. This story is canon-compliant through HBP. DH has, for the most part, been happily disregarded, especially that sappy epilogue!

Special thanks go to my beta reader, JuJuJenn. She makes sure I stay focused.

Four

Minerva had not been exaggerating when she said it was time to work. A schedule was set up to give the three of them intensive Defence lessons. Remus and Snape handled most of their lessons. Tonks and Mad-eye Moody, when they could take time away from their Auror duties, also took turns teaching them how to cast a wide-ranging variety of spells and curses and how to defend against them. The end of each day usually found at least one of them with cuts and bruises to be healed. There was even an occasional broken bone to be mended. And they learned those spells, and a number of other healing spells, as well, since it was likely that there would be times when they would not be able to get to a Healer.

All of them became proficient at casting spells nonverbally.

The three of them worked with both Snape and Remus to learn Occlumency. Harry paid a lot more attention to the lessons this time around. While duelling with Snape in the moments after the events on the Astronomy tower, Harry had learned the importance of blocking his thoughts. When he allowed himself to think of it, he realised that even as he had been fleeing, Snape had been trying to teach him.

Legilimency was a much more difficult skill than Occlumency, but Snape maintained that it was important that they at least learn the basics.

They studied more and learned more over a four week period than they had learned in the six preceding years at school. Some days they spent as much as fourteen hours studying and practicing.

The Board of Governors met in special session the last week of August. It was decided that Hogwarts would open after all, but because they had delayed so long in reaching their decision, the first day of school would be the first of October rather than the first of September. Letters were sent to the parents of all returning students advising them of the new schedule.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't return to Hogwarts when classes started. Instead, they remained at Grimmauld Place and continued their lessons there.

There was much speculation about their whereabouts when they failed to return for their final year.

When the Ministry questioned Minerva, she showed them a letter from Hermione's parents stating that they were withdrawing her from Hogwarts and that the entire family was moving to Australia.

The hiding of Hermione's parents – her very vulnerable Muggle parents – had been one of the first things the Order did after Hermione became a member. The Grangers weren't in Australia, however. Louis and Emily Granger had been relocated to America. They'd changed their names and were practicing dentistry in a small town near Salem, Massachusetts. When a Ministry official visited the Granger home, she found it locked and apparently abandoned, a 'For Sale' sign stuck on the overgrown lawn.

At the Ministry, Arthur Weasley told everyone that Harry Potter had talked his youngest son into leaving school and spending a year 'bumming' around the continent.

"He's broken poor Molly's heart," Arthur was heard to say to anyone who would stand still long enough to listen.

In actuality, Harry and Ron seldom left Grimmauld Place those first few weeks, but reports of their escapades were common. Almost overnight, 'Harry Spotting' became a favourite sport among wizarding folk.

Although Ron and Hermione had taken Apparition lessons, Harry hadn't been able to because he hadn't been of age before the previous school year ended. Now, he worked with Minerva and with Tonks to learn how to Apparate. Once all three of them had mastered the skill, Snape insisted that they learn how to do it without making the distinctive popping sound that usually accompanied Apparition. It took another three weeks of exhaustive concentration and practice, but soon Apparating silently was second nature to them.

One evening Snape began teaching them how to create Portkeys.

"Having an activated Portkey disguised as a button or a piece of jewellery could save your life one day," Snape said.

"Don't you need Ministry authorisation to create Portkeys?" Hermione asked.

"Ministry authorisation?" Snape sneered. "The Ministry is compromised. Seeking authorisation for a Portkey would be tantamount to taking out an advertisement in the Prophet announcing our plans.

"Grow up, you silly girl!"

Hermione flushed slightly, and Ron bristled.

"Don't talk to her like that!"

Much to Ron's surprise, Hermione took Snape's side.

"He's right, Ron. This is war. I've got to stop thinking like a student afraid of being caught out after curfew.

"Show me again, sir," Hermione said turning back to Snape.

Three hours later, all three of them could cast the Portus Charm, although only Hermione had managed to create a Portkey that would take them more than a few kilometres.

By the middle of October, Remus had returned to Fenrir Greyback's pack in the hope of gleaning information about planned attacks against the families of Muggle-born witches and wizards. He hated the time he had to spend with Greyback and his cronies, but he did what he had to do to fulfil his Vow as a member of the Order.

Because of her duties as Headmistress, it was nearly impossible for Minerva to get to Grimmauld Place more than once a week, and Tonks and Mad-eye were frequently called away on Ministry business. That meant that the greatest portion of their training now came from Snape.

As Voldemort's most trusted aide, Snape was summoned frequently. Most of these summonses came at night, but it was not uncommon for him to be called away during the day as well. He would clutch his arm and hiss softly through his teeth. He would usually instruct them to continue practicing whatever they were working on, or he would assign them reading from one of the many Dark Arts books that the Black library held.

Sometimes he returned within the hour, but most times he was gone several hours. Frequently, when called in the evening, he didn't return until the next morning. On those occasions, he would be even more surly and uncommunicative than usual. The others in the house soon learned that it was best to stay out of his way as he trudged wearily through the kitchen and made his way to the bathroom – always his first priority on those mornings.

"I didn't think Snape ever took a wash," Ron commented one morning as he, Harry, and Hermione sat at the kitchen table having coffee and listening to the pipes in the old house clang as the shower in the second floor bathroom started. "But I guess he has to considering what he probably did last night."

Hermione stood so quickly, her chair toppled backward behind her.

"How can you say such a thing?" Hermione demanded.

"What'd I say?"

"He doesn't do anything! Voldemort rapes him!"

"He doesn't fight him off, though, does he? He probably likes it," Ron retorted.

"You're disgusting, Ron Weasley!" she shouted.

Ron turned to Harry as though seeking his support, but Harry just shook his head.

"Hermione's right, Ron. We've been wrong about him since the beginning. What he does – what he lets Voldemort do – he does for us. He does it for the Order and for every other witch and wizard who will suffer if Voldemort isn't brought down. He hates it, and I think if it weren't for us, he'd kill himself before he submitted to the slimy bastard that way."

"I was just joking," Ron mumbled.

"It's nothing to joke about," Hermione said. "Professor Snape doesn't deserve your insults."

"I wasn't insulting him," Ron protested.

"What were you doing, then?"

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry, okay? At least I didn't say anything to his face."

"Good job you didn't," Harry said, trying to diffuse the anger between his two best friends.

"I'll say," Hermione agreed. She turned around and righted the fallen chair. "He'd have given you a first-hand example of how the Cruciatus feels."

Ron gave a mock shudder and both Harry and Hermione laughed, easing the tension between them.

When Snape entered the kitchen twenty minutes later, Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch, and Hermione had her nose buried in a book.

"Potter!" Snape barked.

Harry and Ron both looked up. Hermione put her book down.

"What's the incantation for the Bone Knitting spell?"

"Uh ... Adjungo ... uh ..."

Snape had to stifle a smirk as he watched Granger practically sit on her hand in an effort to keep from raising it. She, of course, knew the answer. He was sure she was hoping she'd never have to rely on Potter to set a broken bone.

"Weasley, how many times can you use a Portkey before you need to renew the spell?"

"Six?" guessed Ron.

He heard Granger groan and saw her shake her head in an exasperated manner.

"Wrong, both of you," Snape snarled. "Yet here you sit, discussing Quidditch, as though such knowledge mightn't one day save your lives!

"Go and find the correct answers. I'll expect them when Miss Granger and I return."

Harry turned and left the room, but Ron just stood, glaring at Snape.

"Return?" Ron said. "Where are you going?"

"I have a potion to brew; Miss Granger will assist me."

"Why can't Harry and I help, too?" Ron whined. "We're tired of just sitting around."

"How many drams of asphodel are required to achieve the colour-change necessary in the Wolfsbane, Weasley?"

Ron flushed.

"Just as I thought," Snape said in a smug tone. "How many, Miss Granger?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip nervously. She glanced over at Ron, and he scowled at her.

She lifted her chin defiantly and turned her head to address Snape.

"Three-point-two-seven drams will produce the colour-change – assuming that one is brewing a single month's dose."

Snape made no attempt to stifle his smirk this time. "And that is why Miss Granger will be assisting me, and you will be studying," he said.

"Go fetch your cloak, Miss Granger. We'll be leaving in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied and turned toward the stairs.

"Show off," Ron muttered under his breath.

Snape didn't think Granger heard the cutting remark as she continued walking toward the stairs. Once she was out of the room, Snape spun back toward the younger wizard sulking in front of him.

"Miss Granger has been helping you since you were an incompetent first-year. Without her, you would have washed out of Hogwarts long ago, and that's how you repay her?"

"What business is it of yours, Snape?" Ron replied.

"My business is preparing the three of you for the fight of your life."

"Maybe we don't need your help."

"You're an ungrateful little snot," Snape hissed at Ron.

"And you're a ..."

"Ron!"

Harry had returned to the kitchen when he realised that Ron hadn't followed him into the library.

"Get him out of my sight, Potter," Snape said through thinned lips.

"Let's go, Ron," Harry said as he grasped Ron's arm.

"I'm leaving," Ron said as he shook off Harry's hand. "I can't stand the sight of him, either."

Harry pushed Ron through the door, and then he turned back to Snape.

"We do need you," Harry said. "Ron's just upset because you showed him up in front of Hermione. I'll talk to him."

"See that you do," Snape replied.

Harry nodded, and then he turned and left the room.

Hermione blinked back tears as she hurried upstairs to get her cloak. She'd heard Ron's muttered remark, and it had hurt more than anything he'd ever said to her.

Contrary to what Ron and many others thought, learning didn't come effortlessly to her. She worked hard to accumulate knowledge. She'd sacrificed all through her years at Hogwarts, often skipping after class activities, and sometime even meals, to study. As a Muggle-born, she'd been at a disadvantage at Hogwarts. She'd had to learn things that other witches and wizards, including Ron, had grown up knowing. She thought it was very unfair of Ron to expect her to play dumb just to spare his feelings. He should be proud of what she'd accomplished instead of trying to make her feel that she'd betrayed him simply because she'd answered a question he couldn't.

Her hurt turned to anger. If Ron wanted dumb, he could just start going out with Lavender Brown again! Not that she and Ron were 'going out'. Oh, they'd managed to get together a time or two, but the encounters had been hurried and furtive and unsatisfying – at least for her. But their current circumstances, hidden away at Order headquarters and working twelve to fourteen hours a day, had made it impossible for them to develop any kind of normal relationship.

She'd always known that Ron was less mature than she was, but she'd been attracted to him anyway. Now his hurtful remark about her, as well as his thoughtless attitude toward Professor Snape, made her doubt he'd ever grow up.

She was going to have to do some serious thinking about her relationship with him.

Hermione gave herself a mental shake as she grabbed her cloak and hurried back down the stairs. She loved brewing and she was looking forward to working with Professor Snape. She wasn't going to let thoughts of Ron distract her.

Author's note: This story was written in response to the Post DH Challenge on The Petulant Poetess.

I chose prompt #5: Harry touches his scar; it hasn't pained him in 19 years. He hears hooting, rolls over in bed to see Hedwig sweeping in the open window at Privet Drive, and realizes that his 17th birthday isn't far off. Go for it... a new seventh year for the lot.