Chapter 5

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.

Five

"I'll Apparate us to our destination," Snape said when Hermione returned to the kitchen. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly as we travel," Snape warned. "It's quite a distance."

She nodded and took the arm that Snape offered her. She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Hermione was thankful for Snape's warning as the compressed feeling of Apparition seemed to go on and on. Just when she thought she'd never draw another full breath, the pressure began to ease. As it did, she opened her eyes and gratefully filled her lungs.

Hermione looked around. They were in the middle of a deep valley surrounded by steep, snow-capped mountains. Although the mountains sheltered them from most of the wind, it was still very cold. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around herself.

"It's a short distance from here," Snape said as he turned and began walking. Hermione followed him, nearly running to keep up with his long-legged strides.

Five minutes later, they were standing in front of a large pile of boulders. Snape pointed his wand at the boulders and muttered a series of incantations. The rocks shimmered for a moment and then faded away revealing a small opening in the side of the mountain.

"Only one person can go through at a time. Light your wand as soon as you step inside, and then turn right and follow the passageway. There are no openings off it, so you needn't worry about making a wrong turn. The tunnel opens out into a small cavern. Wait there for me; I'll enter the tunnel as soon as you leave it."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, and then she stepped through the narrow opening. She could feel the tingle of the magical wards as she crossed the invisible barrier. She lit her wand and began moving along the tunnel.

Hermione decided that it was a good thing she didn't suffer from claustrophobia. The tunnel was so narrow that she could touch both sides at once if she stretched her hands out. The stone ceiling was only a few inches above her head, and she was sure that Snape would have to hunch over when he walked along to avoid banging his head. There was no light at all, other than the dim glow emanating from her wand tip.

The floor sloped gradually downward as it wound deeper into the mountain. She rounded a gentle curve and found herself in the small cavern Snape had told her she would find. She must have activated the wards because as soon as she entered the cavern, the wall sconces flared to life, illuminating the small space.

A few minutes later, Snape stepped into the cavern.

He aimed his wand at the blank wall in front of them and spoke an incantation. As had happened with the pile of boulders guarding the outside entrance, the rock face shimmered and then faded away. The magical façade had hidden a heavy wooden door with a large brass knocker in the shape of a sleeping dragon.

"You will be asked for a password," Snape said as he turned to Hermione. "Repeat the password I give the guardian, but don't say it until I tell you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Snape reached over and lifted the knocker, releasing it so gently it barely made a sound.

The sleeping dragon roared to life.

"Who dares disturb my slumber?" it bellowed.

"Severus Snape," Snape replied.

"Password?" the dragon asked.

"Phalanges mucilaginous," Snape replied, and Hermione put her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle.

"You have a guest," said the dragon as its head swung around and his gaze swept over Hermione.

"Yes, I do."

"Name?" the dragon asked. Wisps of smoke had begun to trickle from the dragon's nostrils.

"Hereward!" Snape spoke sharply, and the dragon's head turned back to look at him.

"My guest's name is Hermione Granger. She is under my protection," Snape said.

"I understand," Hereward said.

He gaze returned to Hermione. The trickle of smoke from his nostrils had stopped.

"Password?"

Hermione looked over at Snape who nodded.

"Phalanges mucilaginous," Hermione said.

"You are welcome here, Hermione Granger," Hereward said.

"Erm ... thank you, Hereward."

The dragon looked to Snape again.

"Can you spare a tickle, Severus?" Hereward asked in an almost plaintive voice. He raised his head, exposing his long, scaly neck.

Snape scowled, but he reached out and gave the dragon a few perfunctory scratches under his chin.

Hereward turned back to Hermione. "Tickle?"

Hermione smiled and reached out, stroking the dragon's neck gently.

"Nice," Hereward murmured, and his eyes began to close.

"We've a lot to do today, Hereward," Snape growled. "Open the bloody door before you fall asleep."

"Always in a rush," Hereward grumbled, but the door swung open.

"He seemed rather fierce at first," Hermione said as the door closed behind them, "but he's just a big softy once you give him the password, isn't he?"

They were standing in what appeared to be a small foyer.

"Knowing the password isn't enough," Snape said. He took off his cloak and hung it on a hook just inside the door. "You were allowed entry only because I stated that you were under my protection. It's a safeguard put in place by Albus. It's imperative that the safety of this stronghold never be breached. If I were put under the Imperius, or given Veritaserum, I might be persuaded to surrender the password. However, should anyone other than me, and now you, attempt to gain entry, even with the password, that person would be incinerated on the spot."

"Where are we, anyway?" Hermione asked as she removed her cloak and hung it on the hook next to Snape's.

"The Himalayas," Snape replied.

"Isn't that where the Abominable Snowman supposedly lives?" Hermione asked.

"When Albus was creating this place, he exploited the legend of the Yeti to keep the Muggles away."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds like Professor Dumbledore."

"Indeed. Now, we'd best get to work. We really do have a lot to do today. Follow me."

Snape moved down a short corridor and Hermione followed.

The corridor opened out into a large parlour that looked like it had been lifted from a country cottage and dropped into place here. It was simply furnished, but comfortable looking. There was even a fireplace.

"This is incredible!" Hermione exclaimed. "Is all this real? I mean, it's not just transfigured ice and rocks, is it?"

"No. Albus used a considerable amount of magic to enlarge the existing cave and configure the walls, ceilings, and floors, but the furnishings are real. He used Shrinking Charms on everything and transported the whole lot in a valise. He was quite proud of that and had no one but me to brag about it to. Needless to say, I had to listen to the story endlessly."

"He made this place for you?" Hermione asked.

"No, he made it for himself originally. He refurbished it for me."

Snape didn't elaborate, and Hermione didn't press him. She was surprised that he'd been as forthcoming as he had been.

"The lab is through here," Snape said as he pushed opened one of the doors leading off the parlour.

"Later, I'll teach you the correct revealing charms to open the passageway. You'll be able to come on your own when I'm ..." Snape said.

"Don't even think that way," Hermione interrupted.

"I was going to say when I was otherwise engaged, but since only you and I know about this place, it will become yours by default upon my death. There's no point in letting the place just sit. It is quite a pleasant retreat as well as a fully functional lab."

"I'm sure you'll be using it for many years to come," Hermione said.

"I'm not nearly as sanguine as you," Snape said without a trace of self pity. "Now, let's get to work."

The lab was as impressive as the parlour had been. There were various sized cauldrons stacked in the corner, stirring rods and beakers on the shelves against the wall, and sets of measuring spoons and scales at each of the three work stations. Another wall held a long bookshelf, and it was there Snape headed.

"We will each brew a batch of the Wolfsbane," Snape said as he pulled down a slim, battered-looking volume.

"You will work there," he said, pointing to one of the work stations. "I will work here."

He opened the book and placed it on the table between the two work areas.

"Read through the formula and instructions before you begin, and then collect the ingredients you need from the storeroom back there." He pointed to a door off the lab.

"What if I mess it up?" Hermione asked.

"I fully expect you will 'mess it up'," Snape replied. "It took me several attempts before I could brew it successfully. It's an incredibly difficult potion."

"Maybe I should just read the book and watch you make it the first time," she said.

"Since you knew the answer to my questions earlier, I'm sure you've already read the formula – several times."

"Well, yes, but ..."

"As valuable as book learning and observation are, Miss Granger, you will only learn to brew by brewing.

"Now, begin."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said.

She leaned over the book and began reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Snape went to the pile of cauldrons in the corner and picked out two of them. He placed one at his work station and the other at Hermione's.

Hermione glanced up when he placed the cauldron over the holder.

"That's the wrong cauldron," she said.

"I've been brewing Wolfsbane for nearly ten years, Miss Granger," Snape said in a haughty tone. "I know which cauldron to use."

"I'm sure you do," Hermione replied, just as haughtily. "I can only assume, then, that you deliberately chose the wrong cauldron ... perhaps to test whether I would notice the error?"

Snape actually smiled, albeit fleetingly.

"I should have saved my back," Snape grumbled as he picked up the offending cauldron and returned it to the pile in the corner.

"Yes, you should have," Hermione agreed.

Once they began the actual brewing, they worked in near-silence. Because of his years of experience, Snape worked a little faster than Hermione did. This enabled him to keep a critical eye on her progress.

He knew the moment her potion went bad, three hours into the brewing, but he said nothing, waiting to see how long it would take her to recognise that the potion, which at this point was supposed to be barely thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, was now the consistency of honey and just as useless to a werewolf.

He was surprised when he realised that she had got much further along in the process than he himself had in his first attempt to brew it. He was also a bit impressed, though he'd certainly never admit that – at least not to her.

Less than a minute after he'd determined that her potion was ruined, he saw her pick up the next carefully measured ingredient to add to her cauldron. For a brief moment, he thought about stopping her – Re'em blood was difficult to come by and very expensive.

Before he could act, however, she slammed the beaker down on the work counter.

"Bloody hell!"

"Problem, Miss Granger?" he asked as innocently as he could.

"I've cocked it up," she replied with a scowl.

"I noticed that."

She turned and glared at him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"We learn from our mistakes. Now, tell me how you cocked it up."

Hermione ran her finger down the lines printed in the book, and then she leaned over the cauldron, her nose nearly touching the bubbling surface.

She pulled her head back out of the cauldron and turned to Snape. "I should have turned the flame down before I added the shredded eucalyptus leaf. It acted as a thickening agent," she concluded.

"Correct. I'm sure you'll remember next time. Dispose of that mess and clean out your cauldron before you begin again." He turned away.

Hermione cleared her throat, and when he turned back, she raised her hand.

"Another problem?"

"I need the loo."

"We're not in school any longer, Miss Granger. You don't need to ask my permission to use the toilet."

"I wouldn't have asked if I knew where it was," she said.

"It's through the bedroom," he said.

Hermione didn't move; she just stared at him.

Snape glared at her, but she didn't back down.

Snape sighed. "Come along, then. I'll show you where it is."

"Thank you."

She followed him back into the drawing room. He led her through another door. She tried not to be too obvious as she peered around the room, but he caught her out anyway.

"It's just a bedroom, Miss Granger. No branches for 'the great bat of the dungeons' to hang upside down from, and not a shred of green silk in sight."

Hermione flushed slightly. "I never believed any of those stupid rumours."

Snape looked at her and sighed again. "No, I don't suppose you did.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, I am, actually," she replied

"I'll go to the kitchen and find us something to eat. It's the only other door off the drawing room."

"I'll only be a few minutes."

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

After Snape left, Hermione did take a moment to examine the room a bit more. It was, as he'd said, just a bedroom. The bed was large and had an oak headboard. The bedside table, armoire, and dresser were a matching oak. The bed was made with a dark blue quilt and a carpet of a similar shade covered the floor.

She stepped into the bathroom. This room was very much in keeping with the simple homeliness of the bedroom and parlour – one or two steps above utilitarian, but several steps below opulent.

When she walked into the kitchen several minutes later, Snape was standing in front of the stove stirring a pot.

"I found a tin of soup in the cupboard. There's cheese and crackers as well. I'm not much of a cook, but there are no house-elves here."

"Soup's fine," Hermione said. "I'm not much of a cook either."

"Sit. The soup is ready."

Hermione sat as Snape filled two bowls, carried them to the table, and set them down next to the two glasses of water already on the table.

When Snape sat down, he grimaced and shifted slightly on the chair. He was even paler than usual.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Eat your soup."

"I'm waiting for it to cool off, and you look like you're in pain."

"It's none of your business, Miss Granger," he snarled.

"Don't you have a pain-relieving potion here? What kind of potions master are you, anyway?"

"I'm a potions master who has a genetic resistance to pain relieving potion. And I reiterate – it's none of your business!"

"No wonder you're so cranky all the time," Hermione said as she stood up. "I'll be right back."

When Hermione returned to the kitchen, she held out a small bottle.

"Here."

"What's that?" Snape asked. He made no effort to take the bottle.

"Ibuprofen."

"And what, pray tell, is ibuprofen?"

"It's an anti-inflammatory and a pain reliever. I take it when I have cramps. I don't like the potion Madam Pomfrey supplies."

"I assure you, I don't have cramps."

"Maybe you missed the 'pain-reliever' part?" Hermione asked.

"Don't get cheeky with me, Miss Granger."

"Or what? You'll assign me detention? I'm trying to help you, you miserable prat!"

"How dare you!" Snape roared as he jumped to his feet.

And in the next moment, he was clutching the edge of the table to keep from falling over as pain stabbed through him.

Hermione reached out a hand to steady him.

"Sit down before you fall down," she said as she held on to his arm.

Snape glared at her, but he eased himself back down into his chair.

"Won't you at least try the ibuprofen?" she asked. "It might help, and if it doesn't, you won't be any worse off, will you?"

Snape sighed. It was difficult to refute such logic. Besides, he was in enough pain to be willing to try just about anything. The bloody bastard had been particularly playful the previous night.

"Give me the bloody pills, then, so I can eat my lunch and get back to work."

Hermione opened the bottle and shook out four small, orange-coloured caplets.

"The usual dosage is just two," she said as she dropped them into Snape's palm. "I always start with three, though, and I'm not nearly as heavy as you are. You can safely take four to start and then take two every four to six hours thereafter."

"Thank you, Healer Granger," Snape said dryly as he tossed the pills back and picked up his glass of water.

"Now who's being cheeky?" Hermione asked as she slipped the bottle into the pocket of her jeans.

Snape made no reply, but Hermione thought she saw his lips twitch.

They talked about Hermione's failure with the Wolfsbane as they ate. When they were done eating, Hermione carried their empty bowls to the sink and ran water in them.

"Where's the detergent?" she asked as she bent down, looking under the sink.

"There are cleaning charms to do the washing up, you know," Snape said.

"I prefer soap and water."

Snape opened the cupboard over the sink. He reached inside and pulled out a small bottle of detergent.

"So do I," he said as he handed the bottle to her.

"Why do you keep it up there?" Hermione asked. "Most people store it under the sink."

"My mother used to keep it under the sink. Then one day the dog got into it because she hadn't closed the door properly. My father was displeased, to say the least. My mother moved everything overhead the next day. I got into the habit of keeping things overhead after that, as well."

"You had a dog?" Hermione asked with a surprised look.

"My father had a dog," Snape corrected her. He had picked up a towel and was drying the dishes as Hermione washed them.

"What's the difference? It was a family pet, wasn't it?"

"King was mean and aggressive, but he was slavishly devoted to my father. He wouldn't tolerate anyone else coming near him. And my father felt the same way about King."

Hermione flushed as she realised the implication of Snape's words.

She quickly changed the subject.

"I'm ready to try the Wolfsbane again."

"We should have enough time for two more attempts today," Snape said as he glanced at his watch.

"Maybe I won't need two more attempts," Hermione said in a teasing tone. She pulled the stopper from the sink to let the water drain.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't," Snape replied as he finished wiping the last bowl and draped the towel over the edge of the counter to dry.

"Has your pain lessened?" Hermione asked as they made their way out of the kitchen.

It was Snape's turn to flush. It was humiliating to know that Granger was aware of his discomfort – and its cause.

He scowled at her, ready to lash out if he saw the slightest hint that her question was prompted by a prurient interest in his sexual activities. He relented when he realised that her face showed only concern.

"The ibuprofen has helped," he conceded grudgingly.

"You can have that bottle then," she said.

"I wouldn't want you to be without your medication when you need it," he said as he held open the door to the lab to allow her to precede him in.

"I've just finished needing it," she said over her shoulder. "I have another bottle, and I can go to the chemist and get more if I have to."

"You shouldn't be leaving Grimmauld Place to go traipsing about."

"I don't go 'traipsing about'," she said as she turned to face him. "I go out only when it's necessary, and when I do go out, I use a glamour. I'm probably safer among Muggles than I am among wizards, anyway. I don't remember the last time I ran into a Death Eater at the chemist."

"You may be right. The Dark Lord has curtailed much of his anti-Muggle activity. He is concentrating his energy on overthrowing the Ministry and finding Potter."

Hermione took the bottle of ibuprofen tablets from her pocket and held it out. "That settles it then. Keep the bottle," she said. "Besides, you need them more than I do. It's only a few cramps, after all."

Still Snape hesitated. He hated the thought of being indebted to anyone.

As if she had read his mind, she spoke again.

"Please take them, Severus. It's just a few pills. I won't consider that you owe me a life-debt," she said.

And then she smiled at him, and any further protest died before he could voice it. Because he couldn't remember the last time anyone had smiled at him with such understanding and acceptance.

He couldn't even berate her for using his given name. Somehow, it seemed right and natural that she had – and that he reciprocate.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said as he took the bottle of pills from her hand.

"You're welcome."

Her eyes held his as she spoke and Snape knew that in that moment, things had forever changed between them.

Hermione successfully completed the Wolfsbane on her second try after lunch. As she watched the potion change from muddy green to silvery grey, her smile grew wider and wider.

She turned and saw that Snape, while not exactly smiling, was at least looking a little less dour than usual.

"It's right, isn't it?" she asked.

"Why do you ask a question you already know the answer to?" Snape asked in a slightly chiding tone.

"Because you're the expert on Wolfsbane, and I want to be sure I've done it correctly."

"If you hadn't done it correctly, it wouldn't have changed colour, as you very well know. Now, decant it before it spoils, and all your hard work goes for naught. Lupin will have need of it in just a few days."

"You're going to give him the batch I made?"

"Yes, along with the two batches I brewed today. I've been making extra as time allows so that he can stockpile it."

"I thought Wolfsbane had a very short shelf life," Hermione said as she lined up the seven glass vials she needed to decant her batch of Wolfsbane.

"When Lupin was teaching at Hogwarts, he and I worked together to create a Stasis Charm that preserves the potion for up to a year. At that time, the Dark Lord had not returned, though we believed he soon would. We knew that once he did return, it might become difficult for me to continue to brew the Wolfsbane. Since there are very few brewers who are capable of producing such a difficult potion, we've been 'rotating the stock', so to speak, until you could master the brewing."

"Even back then you planned for me to learn how to do it?"

"Let's just say you were on our short list," Snape replied. "We had to wait until you joined the Order so that I could reveal my true allegiances and oversee your attempts. Now that you've been successful, I'll be able to turn my attention to other matters.

"I must also admit that I'm ... relieved ... that there's someone else with access to this place."

"You mean no one else knows about it?" Hermione asked as she fitted a funnel into the neck of the first vial and began ladling the potion in.

"Oh, Minerva is aware that it exists, but she doesn't know where it is or how to get past Hereward. You're the only person, other than me, who can actually get into the place. Should something happen to me, you'll need to bring someone else in."

"I hate it when you talk like that," Hermione snapped as she slammed the ladle down on the counter.

"This is war. People die in wars. I'm simply being a realist."

"Pessimist is more like it."

"I leave the optimism to all you starry-eyed Gryffindors," he retorted.

"It's a good thing I've enough for both of us, then," she said.

Snape merely snorted.

"What else are you working on?" Hermione asked as she continued filling the vials.

"A number of things, including a potion to allow a person to more easily resist the Imperius Curse."

"What's in it?"

"I trust I don't have to remind you not to say anything to anyone about this place or what goes on here?"

"Of course you don't. I can't imagine Voldemort would be very happy to discover that you're working to counteract one of his favourite curses."

"No, he wouldn't," Snape agreed.

They spent the next several minutes discussing the mind-strengthening properties of several of the ingredients that Snape had incorporated into his test potion.

Snape found it satisfying to have someone intelligent to discuss his work with.

Hermione finished filling the vials and began sealing them.

"Finished," Hermione said as she sealed the last one.

"I'm gratified that I no longer have to be concerned that Lupin's supply of Wolfsbane will be interrupted should something happen to me."

Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"You mean if Voldemort kills you."

Snape shrugged. "Voldemort, Lucius, Bellatrix, or any one of my fellow Death Eaters. And let's not forget that the Ministry has a price on my head, as well. The list of those who would see me dead is quite extensive."

"You needn't sound so pleased about it!" Hermione retorted.

"I'm not pleased; I am merely resigned. I'm a double agent; my status is always in jeopardy."

Before Hermione could think of a response, she saw him clutch his arm.

"I have to go," Snape said.

"He's summoning you?"

"Yes. I'd hoped for a brief respite, but as they say, 'there's no rest for the wicked'."

"You're not wicked," Hermione protested.

"We can argue the state of my soul at another time. I can't keep him waiting too long. Now that you know where you are, can you get yourself back to Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes."

"Don't try to Apparate until you're outside the wards," he warned.

He moved toward the door and took his cloak from its hook.

"Do I need to reset them as I leave?"

"No. As soon as Hereward sees that we've both gone, he'll take care of it."

"All right."

"When you get back, tell Molly or Arthur I've been summoned. They'll get a message to Minerva. I was supposed to meet with her tonight, but I doubt I'll be back before morning."

Hermione nodded.

"You can come back tomorrow and brew another batch. Lupin has a couple of friends he helps out when we've enough ahead."

"I'll wait for you," she said. "We can each brew a batch."

"Don't wait too long," he said. "Every time I'm summoned there's always a very real possibility that I won't return."

"I'll wait for you," she repeated stubbornly.

Snape rubbed his arm as the Mark burned again.

"I'll see you in the morning," she said as she looked into his eyes intently.

"I sincerely hope so," he replied.

He broke eye contact, opened the door, and hurried through.

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.

Additional Author's note: Hereward is an English name that means 'guardian'.