Hermione was fully aware that Severus had questions he wished to ask her, but since the majority of these had answers which she wasn't willing to give him—they would leave him with far too much power over her—she thought it better to state her intentions plainly up front.
He blinked at her, clearly taken aback by the abruptness of her answer. A frown furrowed his brow and then he said slowly, as though making a conscientious effort to speak calmly and rationally, "It is very much my wish to discuss this."
"I don't care how much you want to talk about it," she responded, allowing a degree of anger and frustration to leach into her voice. To hell with it. She was already in detention. "Every time we start a conversation like this, it ends with you throwing whatever I've said back in my face and reminding me forcibly that you're my professor and I'm only a student. I have no interest in doing that again."
"I won't do so," he answered immediately.
She faced him sternly, lips pinched together before she gained enough control over herself to speak, her voice strained. "A few hours after taking my virginity, you said I wasn't Pure anymore and used that as an excuse to throw me out and stop speaking to me. So you'll have to forgive me if I have very little faith in any assurances you give me now."
His lips twisted. "What would you have me say?"
"That's exactly it, Professor," she snarled, still incredulous that he hadn't noticed that he was using his power as a professor to hold her here, that he'd forced her to hold this conversation after the detention that he'd given her. "I wouldn't have you say anything."
"I only want to talk," he said with what passed as mildness for him.
"I know that's what you want!" she snapped. "It's always what you want. You appear to make some sort of concession long enough to convince me to tell you whatever it is that you want to know, and then you take it back. I'm not doing that anymore. I don't owe you any answers, not about this."
Not if she wanted to have a single shred of dignity left when all was said and done, anyway.
"The situation is altered now," he pronounced.
"How?" she demanded, her frayed temper snapping. If she were going to be stuck in detention until the end of the year, she might as well have the satisfaction of knowing that she'd spoken clearly. "I'm still your student. I still have to call you 'Professor'. I'm in detention. You can still take points, throw me out, and leave me with no recourse." Her voice had risen an octave or two. "How is that different?"
He was regarding her with some surprise, which she thought was a little rich given that he must surely have realized that he'd been pushing her to this point all night.
Despite her display of temper, he appeared to have retained his, for he answered quite calmly. "I no longer have to pretend to be a Death Eater."
"And you're telling me that your pretending to be a Death Eater in public impacted your private interactions with me," she said flatly.
"It affected my entire life," he answered.
She imagined that this was true to a degree, but she wasn't willing to let him use it as a catch-all excuse for his abysmal behaviour over the year.
"Then we can all be relieved that that time in your life is over," she answered coolly, refusing to be swayed.
He'd managed to successfully hide the fact that he was a spy from Voldemort for years; she shouldn't be surprised that Severus could turn any conversation around on its head.
He stared at her for a long moment, silently assessing with dark eyes, and when he spoke, his tone was very measured. "I give you my word that I will not remove or have removed any House points, assign or have assigned any detentions, or in any other way punish or have you punished for any reason for the rest of the school year. Nor will I punish your friends or your House in your place, although they are still open to the regular course of punishments for their own infractions."
She opened her mouth to rebut this, thinking that he was only doing exactly what she'd accused him of before, telling her whatever was necessary to gain her cooperation.
Fully processing what he had said, she closed her mouth again. Unlike all those other times, just now, he had specifically offered her his word. He had also laid out a clear time frame that truly exempted her from punishment by him; he had most definitely omitted to do so on previous occasions.
Of course, there was nothing concrete to say that he couldn't go back on this arrangement, too, but two deliberate decisions on his part made her think this unlikely.
First and most importantly to her, he had formally offered his word. Wizards of good repute didn't go back on that; if she wouldn't trust his given word, it basically meant that she didn't trust him. If she chose not to accept, she knew that was how he would take it.
Secondly, he had upped the stakes and actually offered not to punish her for anything, not just for all their personal issues. This meant that he trusted her not to take advantage of what he was offering and commit detention-worthy acts that he could no longer punish her for. For someone who had spent the length of her school career—and probably the last two decades—relishing his punishment of Gryffindors for infractions big and small, real and imaginary, this was a concession indeed.
"You give me your word," she repeated, stressing the last word, wanting to be certain that they both understood what he was saying.
He gave one short, sharp nod; from the tension in his body, it appeared that he was now expecting to be denied.
"Then I accept," she answered simply. "You have convinced me once again to trust you. But I warn you now, Severus; this is the very last chance I can offer you."
She prayed that they wouldn't need another one. Right now, it felt as though she'd risked too much too frequently to be able to withstand more uncertainty from him.
"Understood," he said curtly.
It was as though a giant weight had been lifted from between them, but there was a vacuum in its wake, leaving both of them uncertain as to exactly how to proceed.
It felt a bit as though the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, leaving her relieved, light-headed, and a little bit dizzy.
She tilted her head to regard him curiously and asked with some amusement, "You really thought it was best to broach this subject after making me clean the storeroom for near on six hours?"
More of the harsh lines on his face eased at the mild tone with which she had made this query.
"You were very quiet and efficient," he pointed out. "I lost track of the time."
She laughed lightly. "You're not doing yourself any favours. You sat at your desk for six hours, and you're telling me you didn't notice me slaving away over here?"
He shook his head. "You mean you didn't notice? I went back to my quarters for tea and ended up reading for several hours."
She looked at him incredulously, saw that he was serious, and dissolved into laughter. "I guess I did get rather involved in my work. Remind me to tell you later how appalled I am at your lax detention-administering skills."
His response told her how clearly he'd switched out of "professor mode", because she'd actually insulted his professional conduct, and his lips quirked up slightly.
"I'll be sure to make a note in my day planner," he promised.
"Would you really have scrapped it all?" she inquired suddenly. "Made me do it over again tomorrow?"
He shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes, and she was delighted because it had been a very long time since she had seen that emotion directed non-maliciously at her. "I wanted to talk to you, not wake up six weeks later in the hospital wing with no idea what had happened to me."
She smiled at him, declaring loftily, "I'll have you know that I very rarely curse professors."
"I feel much better now," he said dryly.
"I felt certain that would be the case," she answered easily. She looked back at the storeroom. "You don't usually have students do this on detention, do you?"
He raised his eyebrows in clear disdain. "Are you insane? Let them into the storeroom and tell them to sort it through? There wouldn't be a storeroom left when they were done."
"I thought not," she answered, not bothered by his tone when she knew he was being scathing towards an equal, not a student. "Does that mean you wouldn't be averse to a little bit of assistance in assuring the students put the ingredients back in the proper place?"
"What sort of assistance did you have in mind?" he asked, wisely not committing before he knew her terms.
"Wards. They would encourage ingredients to find their usual spots which would result in plenty of students being guided."
"And for those students who are … particularly dense?" he inquired silkily.
She was pretty sure he was thinking of Neville, which really wasn't fair anymore. Of course, he might well be thinking of Tonks, too; those who caused the most explosions seemed to stick in his mind.
She smiled sweetly at him. "Assuming that you've told them to put the ingredients back in the proper locations, they're not following the school rules when they put them elsewhere. That's grounds for a certain level of punishment, wouldn't you say?"
His lips twitched. "I shall remember to be wary when I see that expression in future. What are you going to do to them?"
"They'll receive a mild shock every time they erroneously place a container," she said with relish.
He actually let out a short bark of laughter. "And all the blame will be apportioned to me, I suppose?"
Her smile deepened. "What would I have to do with the warding of the Potions storeroom?"
Shaking his head, he said, "Have a go, then. But if Albus complains, you're explaining it to him."
This seemed fair to her; especially given the crazy and dangerous stunts Albus had allowed Harry, her, and Ron to get up to, she didn't think the headmaster would have a leg to stand on. She was sure that she could counter any other objections that the man might have. It was far more dangerous to play Quidditch, for example, and this was only designed to encourage students to follow rules that were in place for their safety as well as for convenience; potion ingredients always had the potential to be volatile.
She set to work, pleased that she could cast wandlessly since Severus already knew that she was capable of it. If he wasn't aware that she could practice this level of magic without a wand, then it would be a revelation for him. Since they were trying to renew their relationship anyway, a show of trust in that regard was unlikely to go amiss.
It took her almost a half hour to complete the casting. Since many of the ingredients were magical in their own right, it was important that the wards were cast very delicately so that there was no contamination or unexpected results. The wards had to be able to identify the ingredients, sort alphabetically, and make allowances for differing container sizes and the move from one shelf to another, and then she had to work the maintenance charm into the wards which would attract the containers back to their previous locations but would allow for containers to be used up and new ones to be added in without forcing anything out of order.
Finally, she set up the shock charm with an increased severity if the same mistake was made again but with safeguards so that no one could deliberately continue to put a potion in the wrong place over and over and seriously injure themselves. She could just see students doing that on a dare or in order to prevent themselves from taking a dreaded test.
Given how some of the students felt about Potions, she was certain that even the fact that real damage would be done to their bodies wouldn't deter certain desperate cases. Since there was no way she wanted to explain to Albus why she'd been responsible for sending fellow students to the hospital wing, she was nipping that problem in the bud.
By the time she'd finished, Severus was looking at her curiously. Since she'd wanted to ensure that the wards would last and had worked them far more carefully into the existing wards than most people did, she wanted to assure him that it hadn't taken an unnaturally long time at all. She also hadn't been terribly explicit in what she was going to do before she'd done it, so the "mild shock" that she'd first mentioned might have led him to think that there were very few steps to the process.
She smiled at him once she finished and watched as he stepped into the storeroom, took a vial of powdered moonstone off the shelf and very deliberately moved it over next to the shredded squid tentacles and set it down. When nothing happened, he raised an eyebrow eloquently.
"You didn't really expect me to have it shock you, did you, Severus? You're exempt from the wards, of course."
He still seemed to be testing her. "I didn't feel a pull to put the ingredient back where it belonged."
"It's not supposed to pull your body there by your arm," she said, rolling her eyes—as discreetly as possible given that she was still dealing with Severus, and she supposed that she had not explained herself very clearly. "You have a great deal of magic and mental discipline, Severus; there's nothing for you to notice. A first-year student who was just a little careless, however, would find himself or herself far more likely to set the ingredient down in just the right place rather than over, under, or to the side. I'm doing this properly, I assure you."
"As you say," he said with amusement, moving the ingredient back to its proper location. "I suppose you're not shocking yourself?"
She smiled. "You suppose correctly. Like you, I hardly need any extra inducement to place ingredients in the proper location."
"So I'll have to wait until the little dunderheads try tomorrow?" he pursued.
"You'll have to wait," she confirmed. "But just think what a pleasant surprise it will be for all of them."
He smirked. "I'll be sure they need to retrieve and replace a number of ingredients."
She was entirely certain that he'd do just that, and she tried to hide her glee that she had pleased him, reminding herself that she probably shouldn't be getting so much pleasure out of the prospect of shocking her fellow students. But honestly, she'd wanted to do it for years when they were being completely daft, and this had been the perfect opportunity.
He stepped away from the door and was about to close and let it ward itself when she had a thought.
"If you wish," she said hurriedly, laying a hand on his arm to prevent him from closing the door, "I could add another layer to the wards so that all the containers stick in place and seal if the wards are ever breached. If someone other than you or an authorized person breaches the wards, they wouldn't get very far with anything."
He regarded her narrowly. "You are aware that I am a wizard?"
Bugger. "An extremely talented one. Sorry." She offered a nervous smile. "I get overexcited sometimes. Bit of a show-off, really."
A great big giant show-off, depending on whom you asked, and she should have considered that it would offend Severus instead of opening her big mouth and blundering into it like this.
"I suppose next you are going to offer to ward my private stores?"
Her eyes flew to his, and her smile became more genuine—she probably looked like an idiot—as she realized that by some miracle he'd decided to make a joke out of it.
"You wouldn't really have wanted to miss out on my being stuck as a half-cat for five weeks, now would you?"
He rolled his eyes, observing sourly, "I still find it incredible that Albus allowed you to get away with that."
She shrugged. "I had to suffer through five weeks of hair balls and paws that made it almost impossible to turn pages in a book. I suffered, I assure you."
"You could have been seriously injured had the potion been more flawed," he said severely.
"The potion worked just fine," she answered indignantly. "It was only the cat hair that was the problem."
"How can you be certain that it wasn't any other aspect of the potion?" he asked, frowning.
She cleared her throat and did not answer, remembering belatedly that the last time they had discussed this—back at the beginning of the school year—she had been careful not to implicate anyone else.
Severus let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Am I to understand that both Mr Potter and Mr Weasley had a successful transformation?"
She smiled faintly, saying circumspectly, "If they'd taken my Polyjuice, I imagine it would have been successful, yes."
There was an edge to his voice now. "I said I wouldn't punish you or them, remember?"
She shook her head. "You said you wouldn't punish them in my place; you didn't say anything about not punishing them for their … missteps if you learnt incriminating evidence from me. I don't fancy them being in detention for the rest of term, thank you very much."
"I suppose Albus was aware of what happened?"
She shrugged. "Albus knows a great deal, and while we weren't aware of his interference at the time, in retrospect, it seems entirely likely that he was keeping an eye on us, yes. We were trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin was."
"Of course you were," he answered, sounding a mixture of annoyed and almost approving. "There's no other reason for noble Gryffindors to be performing such dangerous stunts."
"All in the name of the side of light and right," she answered with a self-deprecating smile. "We did exactly what we thought we had to do."
"As though it were your responsibility to find the Heir of Slytherin and close the Chamber of Secrets," he scoffed.
Her lip curled up into a twisted smile. "As though it were Harry's responsibility to defeat Voldemort and be the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Imagine that."
He grimaced and changed the subject, which she took to mean that he'd taken her point. "I don't expect any other ingredients to go missing from my private stores."
"While I don't have the slightest intention of taking any," she answered immediately, "I'm hardly going to issue a blanket statement for the rest of the student body."
Or devoted house-elves, but it was probably best not to go there.
"Mr Potter is one of the few who would dare," Severus responded, "and I feel quite certain he would look to you."
She laughed and decided to steer rather wide of finding out if he meant that comment to incriminate her. "He would if he had any sense. My potion-making abilities and ingredients should be more than sufficient for any of his potion needs."
"And the rest of the students will have to make do with the student storeroom."
This wasn't entirely what she had meant, but on balance, she decided it wasn't worth arguing with Severus about. Harry had bizarre needs that went far beyond the scope of what most of the other students had to face, and Severus was just needling her, really; if he actually thought that she was assisting Harry to get any of his actual potions brewed, they wouldn't just be casually talking about it now.
"They'll have to make do with the new and improved storeroom," she corrected blandly.
It would no doubt take several classes before rumour began to solidify into fact, and since it could hardly be expected that the Head Girl had any hand in the warding, she and Severus would get to watch the students leap to entirely the wrong conclusions. She imagined the other students would be quite shocked if they ever learnt of her involvement, let alone her amusement over the whole plan.
"Incidentally," Severus asked, "if Minerva were to come down here in need of an ingredient and happened to put it back in the wrong place when she was done...?"
Hermione smiled, and Severus's lips quirked up into a wicked smirk, his voice ripe with satisfaction as he pronounced, "Excellent."
The idea of her wards had just grown on him exponentially, she realized, and she made a mental note to drop a hint to Minerva that perhaps she should steer clear of Severus and all his ingredients for a little while. Hermione could practically see the wheels spinning in Severus's brain as he attempted to work out a way to get Albus down here.
"The storeroom is in better order than it has been for years," Severus declared. "I will be ordering new ingredients later this week."
She took this as the equivalent of a thank you, which she was more than willing to accept given that she'd been receiving death threats and glares instead of appreciation recently. This was a clear improvement.
"I'm glad you find it to your satisfaction," she answered. Lips quirking, she added, "Given that you missed out on so much of the preparation time, you might not appreciate just how much work it took."
"Given how careless and undisciplined the majority of the students are, I can well imagine."
It was not the students who had jumbled all the ingredients on the floor and made her wade through them to even get started, and he seemed to realize what she was thinking, because he asked rather abruptly, "Tea?"
She nodded gratefully. It seemed a little early in their reconciliation to begin arguing again. And she would like tea, although a shower and a change of clothes wouldn't go amiss, either.
To her surprise and pleasure, Severus led her to his quarters. She'd not been invited here in a friendly manner since December, when she had charmed the decorations in the Great Hall. He'd not been conscious when she brought him here in March, and the fact that he'd dragged her here two days later in order to yell at her about how dangerous her warding plan was rather negated any possibility that she considered her last visit here at all pleasant.
He wanted answers to question now, too, she knew that, but he wasn't yelling at her, and he was at least making a show of being actually hospitable, letting her sit down, actually making tea. The hour was rather advanced, but since he said nothing about it, neither did she.
She was even permitted to use the facilities, which meant that she had the opportunity to cast cleaning charms upon herself to remove all that grime, and the mirror above the sink informed her by the time she was done that she looked quite presentable. Wishing that it was Severus rather than his mirror that was giving her compliments, she nevertheless felt immeasurably better as she returned to the sitting room.
Armed with Earl Grey (strong, with lemon), she and Severus started small, both clearly aware of how horribly wrong their last several discussions had gone. She told him about her classes and her N.E.W.T. preparation. He responded with disaster stories from his own classroom, as well as insight into some of the research that he was hoping he would have time for in the future.
Now that Voldemort knew he was a spy, a dangerous and time-consuming occupation had come to an abrupt halt. He was no longer tied to a madman by a mark branded onto his arm. She only wished that she could have removed it from him sooner, but he was quite adamant, when he saw her staring fixedly at his arm, that what she had done was more than he had ever dreamt of, and he held her completely blameless.
Since the last time she had heard his opinion on the matter, he had been eager to curse her to kingdom come, this was very welcome news. She might have been able to infer that his opinion had changed given that he wasn't actively trying to kill her anymore, but it was nice to actually hear the words. It still wasn't an apology or a thank you, but it was more than she had really expected given that Severus, as she had learnt over the years, liked to ignore any occasion where he had been wrong, blame others, and otherwise pretend that the offending incident had not occurred as others recalled it.
Of course, raising this issue meant that they were now straying towards the topics that she was more nervous discussing with him. His rescue was often at the forefront of her mind, but that didn't mean she ever wanted to speak of it again.
Sadly, she knew that he was bound to feel differently, and if anyone deserved to know the truth, it was Severus. A Severus who wasn't cursing, threatening, or being unbearably snide, anyway.
Not talking about the matter left him with erroneous assumptions, and leaving others in the line of fire wasn't fair at all, which was what led to her explaining that it was not a vision from Harry which had led her to Severus.
She sighed. "Harry hasn't had a vision from Voldemort in months. Not since he started sleeping w—better."
Severus's pointed look showed that he knew exactly what she had been about to say.
"If not thanks to Mr Potter's gift, then how?"
This sigh was larger. "Through no way that you're going to like to hear."
His gaze narrowed sharply. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that nobody else liked it, and nobody else believed me. However, it doesn't change the facts," she snapped out with more bitterness than he deserved, but she was more than a little sensitive about this topic.
"Which are?"
"Which are that I knew something was wrong and acting on that feeling."
He sat there facing her, clearly expecting more for several long seconds. His mouth twisted into a line of disapproval when additional information was not forthcoming.
"That's it?" he finally prompted incredulously. "You had a feeling?"
"That's it," she said, voice strained, as this was very similar to the scene that she had had with basically every other member of the Order who had the slightest notion of what she'd done. Ron and Tonks were the only two, really, who had given her the benefit of the doubt, and Hermione hadn't really given Tonks much of a choice. Everyone else thought she was several crayons short of a box. At the very least. "I've heard all the cracks about me, Sybill Trelawney, and Divination, too, so you needn't bother."
His face softened. "Bit touchy about this subject, are we?"
"You would be, too, if you'd faced the inquisition I have," she said tartly. "I didn't say I had answers, just the feeling."
"You don't have any idea why you felt as you did?" he pursued.
She considered her response carefully. In point of fact, she did know why, or at least strongly suspected, but she wasn't entirely certain that she was ready for Severus to know. It would be as good as declaring what she felt for him, and given that they hadn't made it through a whole day of being civil to one another again, it seemed a little early to be so honest.
Neither did she wish to ruin the chance of their ever getting to the point where she could feel comfortable giving him that information, which meant an outright refusal to answer was also unwise.
She spoke slowly. "I don't want to go back to the way things were, Severus; I'm very pleased that we seem to be embarking upon a cordial relationship. But I don't feel comfortable telling you everything right now."
"You don't trust me." His voice was expressionless, his face dark.
"It's not an issue of trust, at least not the way you mean," she protested and tried to explain better. "This is my life we're talking about, and I need some of it to be just for me right now."
This might have worked, she thought, if he hadn't asked his next question.
"What you refuse to say to me, does Mr Potter know?"
She'd refused to answer his question to begin with because she didn't want to lie to him ever, not when it was personal like this, not when it was important.
He knew the answer to his question as soon as she didn't deny it immediately. Unfortunately for this conversation, she had explained to Harry why she didn't want to come back to Hogwarts after she'd run away.
"What a surprise." His eyes chips of ice. "Mr Potter knows, yet you cannot tell me."
"That isn't fair, Severus," she argued, refusing to back down even from the damn glare of death. "He's been my best friend for more than six years. He's supposed to know a lot about me, to know details that others don't."
"As you say."
Gone was all of the cordiality of earlier, the words tight and hard.
"You're not lumped in with the masses," she pointed out earnestly, lips quirking slightly despite herself. "Did you really want me to say that you and Harry are in a class of your own?"
He grimaced with distaste, but the words were softer. "I would sincerely prefer that you didn't."
"A closer relationship doesn't come instantly; it takes effort, Severus. I want to make this work, but it's going to take time."
She held her breath as she waited for his verdict.
"Very well."
At least he'd conceded her point, although she wasn't hugely impressed that he sounded as though he were shouldering a particularly onerous task. Time to find out if she could chivvy him into a better mood.
"You could consider not sounding as though you were being put in front of a firing squad," she said mildly.
Some of the dark cloud that had descended onto his face disappeared. "I should sound chipper and excited, should I?"
She smiled at him. "I'm not sure I'd go quite that far. You wouldn't want to startle me too suddenly with your drastic personality change."
"I shall try to contain my inner exuberance," he said dryly. "I assume the Boy Wonder will be worrying that I've killed you and chopped up your corpse into potion ingredients?"
Her lip curled. "No doubt eventually. He's not asked after me yet, though, so he trusts that I'm currently still in detention with, er, all body parts attached."
"A detention that's gone on for nearly … seven hours now?"
She pressed her lips together for a moment but then decided there was no way to get out of this one.
"He doesn't appear to be overly alarmed yet."
It was apparent from the way Severus's face went very still that he understood exactly what she wasn't saying. Harry had every expectation of her being made to suffer an absurdly long, not entirely appropriate detention when she was serving it with Severus.
Silence stretched uncomfortably, and then Severus asked, "Just when would he begin to worry?"
This was said mildly, and she was impressed by the fact that he didn't even appear to have come close to flying off the handle at Harry thinking the worst of him. Perhaps they'd both reconciled to thinking the worst of one another. Not exactly the progress she wanted, but better than the two of them being incensed all the time.
"If he didn't see me at breakfast, probably," she answered, considering Harry's protective streak versus his knowledge of how capable she generally was. "He's used to missing me at night, but if I hadn't turned up in the morning, he'd assume that something had gone wrong." She cleared her throat. "It's also possible that he'd worry in the next couple of hours. Depending on what he has scheduled for the evening, I guess, he sometimes sits up for me, no matter how late I am, just to make sure I'm all right. If he were doing that, he'd probably consider going to Albus round about three or four if he'd tried and failed to contact me."
"But you think he would contact you, not just react imprudently without making any effort to assess the situation?"
She felt it safest to simply answer the question and ignore the pointed insult.
"Harry knows how often I visit my herd. My not being around in the wee hours of the morning is not the most unusual of occurrences, so it would likely only be if he couldn't MindSpeak with me that he would become seriously concerned."
"You realize how rare that gift is?" Severus allowed himself to be distracted, asking the question on what sounded suspiciously like a sigh.
"I've been practically mentored by Fawkes since I became a Pure Adult," she answered, stating the details that Severus basically already knew. "If you have a phoenix who's communicating with you through MindSpeech frequently, you'd pick up some skills, too."
"If you say so." He didn't sound completely convinced.
Given that she had come from Slytherin's line and Solace had been a MindSpeaker and a Pure Adult, too, she couldn't discount the possibility that she had a genetic predisposition for it, but it was a moot point, really.
"I should get going," she said, setting aside her mug of tea and rising to her feet. "I really don't want Harry to worry excessively, and he seemed quite perturbed by yesterday's rat spleens."
Severus couldn't seem to stop the smirk of amusement on his lips, pleased, it seemed, that someone had been disturbed by the task that he had assigned her yesterday.
She barely restrained herself from asking what had happened to all her hard work. But she'd only be cross to hear that he'd binned it, and she would much prefer that the two of them ended the evening on a positive note.
"Tomorrow at five?" he asked.
She faltered slightly but continued towards the door before it had become horribly noticeable. His tone had been positively agreeable, for him, but she wished he hadn't decided to raise the matter just as she was congratulating herself on leaving successfully.
Still, she reminded herself, that detention had been set in front of Harry and Albus, and Severus had said he wouldn't punish her from this point forward, not that he would rescind any of the punishments from the past. She might think that it was unfair and had more to do with his temper than a fair punishment for her absence from class, but what was done, was done. She would just have to hope that this time around, he wouldn't assign a completely odious task.
"Of course," she answered, not quite able to bring herself to call him "sir" but hoping that her tone was respectful enough to pass muster.
"Goodnight, Hermione." His voice was positively velvety, in the turn-her-into-a-pile-of-mush sort of way.
"Goodnight, Severus," she therefore responded in kind, trusting that his knee-melting use of her name meant that she could do the same, even if her attempt was less likely to have such salutary effect on any part of his anatomy.
It was nice that he'd allowed her this last moment of equality, though. She believed that Severus was not a man to go back on his word, so it was only reasonable that she would have to finish the detentions which had already been assigned. And there was no saying but that they could continue to improve their relationship at the same time. The one was surely worth the other.
She wasn't terribly surprised to find that Harry was indeed waiting in the common room when she arrived although he had Draco for company this time around. Both had been sitting with books and were ostensibly reading them, and since Harry didn't look as though he'd been dragged through a privet hedge backwards, it was possible they'd actually been reading rather than doing anything more … energetic.
Or perhaps, given the length of her detention and its aftermath, they'd simply had plenty of time to clean up properly.
"I was considering sending out the cavalry," he said, scrutinising her carefully for damage.
"It's a very long story, and I'm about ready for bed now," she said, holding out her arms and twirling around so that he could see that she was unharmed on all sides. "The storeroom and a great deal of sorting was involved."
Harry grimaced. "Don't tell me he made you sort through it all."
"All right, I won't tell you," she answered with a grin, and he stuck out his tongue at her.
"I don't really understand how you—"
He got an elbow to the side before he could finish this sentence, and Draco looked up from his book with a very bright smile.
"Hermione, it's rather late. Are you heading for bed?"
"I think I'd better," she agreed with a smile. "You?"
He gave a very deliberate yawn. "Yes, indeed. Very tired. Must get to sleep while I have the chance."
Harry, thankfully, had decided to allow his comment to be curtailed without making a big deal out of it in front of her and without blurting out whatever stupid comment about her and Severus he'd been about to make. Harry might know how she felt about the Head of Slytherin, but that didn't prevent her best friend from saying the daftest things as though he would be able to simply "correct" her feelings if he tried hard enough. She loved him to bits and knew he wanted her to be happy, but sometimes, Harry could drive her almost as mental as Severus could.
"Goodnight," she told them firmly as she headed into her bedroom.
Showering quickly for real grime removal, she climbed happily into bed and closed her eyes.
Hermione once again slept for nearly five hours, and she was uncertain if this was a new norm, if she was still recovering from her bad week, or if it was a by-product of her not having been into the Forest in the eight days since her return. Refusing to think about that possibility right now—it was hardly a soothing topic—she concentrated instead on getting ready for breakfast and making sure that she didn't get involved in a discussion with Harry or Draco about what was going on in the current detentions.
Until her reconciliation with Severus was more established, she didn't want anyone to know; the possibility of having to subsequently announce that everything had fallen apart once more was too much for her. Besides which, she wanted to savour her current happiness without the chance of Harry or anyone trying to question her or talk her out of it. It wasn't as though she didn't understand why they might have doubts.
Classes today were Transfiguration and Arithmancy which passed quickly because they were two of the most difficult growing only more so as they geared up to the home stretch before N.E.W.T.s. Seventh- and fifth-year students were collectively getting quieter and more studious, beginning to look more and more like their Ravenclaw counterparts, studying at mealtimes, often found in the library, frequently berating younger students who were being too noisy.
Hermione felt right at home.
After dinner, she had a few minutes before her detention, so she changed into an old pair of jeans, a jumper, and a robe which would be more appropriate for manual labour than her school uniform. Making her way to the classroom, she found, to her surprise, that Severus wasn't there. The wards informed her that he was in his sitting room, so she made her way to his quarters.
When she knocked on the door, she was given leave to enter, and she found Severus seated at his desk. He actually went so far as to tell her that it wouldn't be a moment before he continued with his work, and she hoped that she hadn't been gaping at him; the contrast between this current behaviour and his making her wait nearly an hour was rather extreme.
She stood slightly to the side of the door, ready to go as soon as she was given instructions to that effect.
Severus looked up a few minutes later, eyebrows rising in what looked like amusement when he saw her.
"Are you planning on staying?" he asked wryly.
"I rather assumed not," she answered, puzzled. At his look of faint confusion, she explained, "I thought you'd be telling me where to go."
"Go?"
She frowned, answering slowly, "To my detention. I assumed that you wouldn't want me working in your sitting room, but that's fine, too."
She looked round, not immediately perceiving any tasks that looked in need of doing. Perhaps organizing his books? Some were placed rather haphazardly on their shelves, but surely he realized that if he got her examining his collection, he'd have to drag her out three days from now when she was finally sleep-deprived enough to be removed.
"What makes you think you are serving detention?"
"It's five o'clock," she said. "Detention time."
He seemed momentarily at a loss for words. "That was … particularly maladroit of me. But I thought you trusted my word."
She couldn't decipher his tone, which usually meant that she'd done something wrong.
"I do," she answered immediately. "But you gave me these detentions before you offered me your word. They don't fall under that agreement."
He considered this, eyes pensive. Suddenly, he looked at her sharply. "But it shocked you last night."
She sighed. Trust him to have picked out that detail now. "I was taken somewhat aback, yes," she admitted. "But the more I thought it through, the more I realized it was entirely reasonable."
His lips thinned, and he said curtly, "I am able to make my own excuses, thank you. You already have a stated reason to be here. This seemed a convenient manner in which to continue our discussions. I did not intend to have you perform any detention-like tasks, so if you would stop dancing around at the door and sit down, that would be appreciated."
She did as she was told, recognizing that this was really not how he had intended to begin tonight's meeting. Yesterday had been rather … fraught between hours of detention and the beginning of clearing the air between them for the first time in quite a while. Today, she realized, was supposed to be a meeting between equals, with him having invited her to his quarters and everything. She just hadn't picked up on any of those cues, and now it had got all muddled again.
"I'll make tea," she offered.
He nodded.
It had been a long time since she had made tea in Severus's quarters, but she figured it was about as far as she could get from being in detention. There was no way that he would normally let a student serve him, and it was a task which she had offered to perform, rather than being asked or ordered to, so she thought that it would help increase the contrast between last night and tonight. They would talk like two ordinary people who didn't have to worry about point loss or detentions. She hoped.
As he made liberal use of red ink—grading, no doubt—she prepared the tea and bit back all her questions about precisely what he was doing, how his day had gone, and other daft considerations that would only irritate him. Severus didn't like to be interrupted, and if she left him to his work, then he would be finished that much more quickly.
He set his quill aside and rose just as the kettle was boiling, but he let her pour the water and set the tea to steeping in the teapot without interference.
"May I tell Harry?" she asked.
"I don't suppose I can stop you."
"I would prefer not to upset you," she countered.
"I would not ask you to lie to him," Severus returned. "He has a penchant for finding out information he isn't supposed to know; it might as well be you who tells him the truth in a reliable manner."
She nodded, grateful.
Once they were settled in front of the fire, she found herself speaking more about her rescue effort. He wanted to know details about the removal of the Dark Mark, and she told him everything that she could, which was not as much as she might have wished, given that she had not really known what she was doing but had been working on desperation, instinct, and hope.
He seemed to be equal parts awed and horrified at that. As someone who was very book smart and generally rule-abiding, that was pretty much how she felt about the chain of events, as well. She had made it work because it had to work, but that sounded awfully insane in retrospect.
"So, theoretically," he queried, "you could do this with every Death Eater? Sever him from Voldemort?"
She pondered this. "Perhaps … theoretically. But you saw what happened when I did two in one day. And in both the cases in point, I was particularly motivated. Lucius had agreed to help me, and you were being tortured. There's also the fact that both of you desired that the connection be severed. It's possible that it couldn't be severed if both parties wished it to continue."
"You realize that we don't have a Death Eater who's connected to Voldemort anymore."
She nodded, knowing he was not the only one who must have considered this. "But if I had it to do over again, I would do the same. It would never have made a viable attack plan; even assuming I could teach enough people, those who made it through the connection would likely be too magically exhausted to fight."
It was a scary picture. She could just see hosts of Order members getting lost somewhere in that ether between the Death Eater and the Dark Lord, others collapsing from the pressure or arriving to fight Voldemort only to be unable to perform magic…. It was completely implausible.
Severus made a noise that she couldn't identify as either agreement or disagreement. Since she was reasonably certain that no one could attempt it with much chance of success without her or Harry, she wasn't terribly worried; especially given that this particular method of travel led invariably to Voldemort, she doubted there'd be a queue of interested people. Even if Severus wanted to attempt it, as he had pointed out, they had no more Death Eaters on hand.
The Potions master appeared to have reached the same conclusion, for he abandoned that line of query and moved on to the next, which she found unfortunate; he wanted detailed information about what had occurred when she Apparated to Voldemort's safe house.
It was looking more and more as though he was going to want a blow-by-blow accounting of what had occurred. Unfortunately, since he had been there, since he was the one whom she had rescued, she rather thought he deserved the answers where she could tell others to mind their business.
She therefore walked him through arriving at the wards, making her way to the back entrance, and sneaking down to the dungeons. The details became progressively more difficult to relay to him the closer she got to that cell, but she forced herself to keep her voice even.
"I found you in the cell and lost my temper when I saw you being tortured. I Stunned everyone else and then took care of you. I brought you out to the wards—"
She suppressed a sigh as Severus interrupted. She hadn't really thought that he would let her get away with it, but it had been worth a try.
"You said as much in the headmaster's office, Hermione. Can you not tell me anything more specific?"
Swallowing heavily, memories crowding inside her head, she asked with an edge to her voice, "What would you have me say?"
There was no way that she was telling him any more than he absolutely demanded.
"You rescued me from a rather prolonged bout of torture at the hands of the Dark Lord. Frankly, I'm amazed that I came out of it at all." He wasn't the only one. Severus was gazing at her very intently. "Since my own memories of the event are not very lucid, I would like to know what happened."
Still somehow hoping to talk him out of it, she said, "I wasn't there when you were being tortured."
"I understand that," he answered, sounding as though he was remaining patient with a very strong effort. "But it was clear in Albus's office that you were the only one who saw me as I was when they finished with me."
She licked dry lips convulsively. They had come so very close to being very permanently finished with him, and the thought of being even a few minutes later was the stuff of her nightmares.
She drew a deep breath and let it out very slowly before speaking. "Severus, I can't describe to you how I found you."
He opened his mouth to protest, and then his eyes narrowed as he took in her hands clenched in her lap and her pallor—at least, she assumed she was pale given that it felt as though all the blood had drained out of her face.
His lips pressed together in a thin line before he said, "You needn't speak of it."
She let out a huff of breath, lips twisting up in a mockery of a smile, still feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of her and her stomach relocated to somewhere in her throat.
"Do you have a Pensieve?" she croaked out. "Or would you prefer to take the memory directly from my mind?"
"You don't have to—" he began awkwardly.
"Of course I do," she answered harshly. Because this was Severus. He expected answers to his questions. "This offer has an expiration date. Choose quickly."
For a moment, she thought he was seriously considering letting her off the hook, but she knew that he really wanted to know. Since she didn't want to ever have to go through this again, she preferred to get it out of the way now.
"Legilimency."
Curtly nodding, she very carefully chose the segment of memory that she was going to offer him, as she didn't want to risk him seeing the whole night unfold. Since she'd already described her initial rescue attempt to him, she skipped all the way until she entered the dungeon and decided to stop once she had Apparated to the hospital wing. He did not need to see the confrontations with Albus, Harry and Draco, Remus, and Poppy. And really, he was rescued by then, so it didn't fall under the purview of what he had asked about. Setting clear boundaries now would make it easier for her to stick to her plan once they were both reliving the rather emotional time.
Wanting to make this as quick and painless as possible, she came to stand in front of his chair, and he rose to his feet so that they were standing quite close and the connection was that much easier to establish. She thinned her mental barriers only as much as was necessary. He looked directly into her eyes.
She offered the memory right at the surface of her thoughts and watched as he assimilated it. In their joint minds, it was much easier to see just how stunned he was—first when she scattered Voldemort and the Death Eaters and then when she knelt beside him, and he could see how very injured he had been. She had to give him a gentle mental nudge to get him out of her brain once she brought the memory to a close as they arrived back at Hogwarts.
Blinking, she found that the two of them were still standing in his sitting room, although Severus now looked about as wan as she felt. Knowing that Winky could be discreet, she summoned the house-elf and requested tea and sandwiches. The little elf was back in the blink of an eye, and Hermione concluded that the two of them must look in dire straights. Though she had made no specifications for herself, there were plenty of fruit and vegetables as well as several more typical offerings for the Slytherin, and the tea was piping hot.
She served Severus, who had sat back down in his chair and was staring at the fire blankly. Knowing that it was a great deal to process and that he would only be annoyed by platitudes, she left him to it. For that matter, she could use a few minutes to recover, too. The warm tea sliding down her throat and pooling in her stomach seemed to do wonders.
It was a quarter of an hour later that Severus came back to himself and looked over at her chair, seeming surprised that she was still in it.
"Hi," she said. Not exactly brilliant, but it would have to do under the circumstances.
His lip curled slightly in a mild sneer. "I thought you'd gone."
"Whatever for?" she asked. She nearly said that she'd enjoyed sitting here and being able to watch him in the firelight, but she thankfully caught the words before she embarrassed herself completely. "I don't require constant conversation."
He let out a soft sigh. "No, I suppose not." Silence stretched once more, before he declared, "Albus was right, you know." She looked at him curiously. "It was dangerous."
She snorted. "Of course it was. And it was dangerous every time you went back, yet nothing stopped you from going. I would never abandon you there simply because there was danger involved."
He sat up and looked at her intensely. "Why would you risk your life and safety to come after me when it was so clear that I was probably already dead?"
"I knew you weren't dead just as I knew you were in trouble to begin with. It doesn't have to make sense," she hurried on as he opened his mouth, "and asking me more questions isn't going to get you more answers. I simply knew, and that meant I had to come and get you."
He frowned, shaking his head faintly. "Just because you knew didn't mean you had to act."
"It did," she insisted. "I couldn't ever have left you there. Harry couldn't have left you there if he'd known. Draco wouldn't. I don't think even Ron would have done."
This surprised a faint smile out of him.
"There was never any question, Severus," she said quietly but clearly.
Even when he was being a complete prat, he was still her mate.
"I'm the only one who's seen that?" he questioned.
"The only one who's seen my memories, yes. The Death Eaters are aware up to the point where I knocked them out, of course. And there was the one or more who set off the alarm. Poppy was the first one at the hospital wing, and she was followed by Albus, Harry and Draco, and then Remus. The only discussion I've ever had about the events was the one you were present at in Albus's office."
He nodded, appearing to accept this before saying, "I've never seen anyone perform their Animagus transformation while using their magic quite like that."
She had to work her back through the memory to realize that he was referring to those moments where she'd supported his unconscious body through the transformation. Twice.
"That was desperation," she said flatly. "I didn't think about it, just did what had to be done." She let out a huff of breath. "As you might have noticed, that was essentially my modus operandi for the night."
"Are you certain the Dark Lord didn't see you?" he questioned closely.
"You saw what I saw," she countered with a shrug. "I don't believe he noticed, but I cannot say for certain. Conscious Death Eaters saw only my Masked Animagus form. They could possibly have seen me in the moment when I breached the wards and Apparated us away, but I suspect that if that were the case, more than one attempt would already have been made to truss me up and deliver me back to Voldemort. It will probably make him more certain that the Pure Adult is at Hogwarts with you, but I imagine he strongly suspected that anyway."
Severus nodded. "Beyond planning horrible vengeance when the time comes, it has ceased to be one of his priorities. If you took the chance to rescue me, it is unlikely you would be swayed to his side, and even he would judge a kidnapping scheme to be unwise at this point, I think."
"To force me to work for him, you mean?"
Severus nodded, his expression sour at the notion of being held ransom for her. There was a hint of relish in his voice, however, as he noted, "Given how you got through every single ward on his most safe of safe houses, I doubt he wants you anywhere near him right now. And your method of entry was such that he will be quite puzzled; I was checked carefully for Portkeys and any other locating devices before they began with me."
"That's good, then," she said, the thought of Severus being under their power again enough to make her blood run paradoxically cold and boil through her veins. "It would be very unfortunate if they attempted anything of the kind."
He looked at her quizzically, and she was pretty sure that she wasn't having a Gryffindor dunderhead moment. It was the same way many witches and wizards looked at Harry sometimes.
"You've not had any trouble with your Slytherins, have you?" she asked, attempting to get the conversation back under some semblance of control.
His lip curled. "You're going to offer to protect me from them, are you?"
He sounded more amused than offended, thankfully, as she realized that her question had been rather tactless. Again.
She smiled at him. "Yes, if you'd like."
He snorted. "I have been able to take care of myself for many years now. Followers of the Dark Lord are hardly happy with me, but my miraculous rescue, healing, and removal from the Death Eater ranks has left me in a rather unique position. Under those circumstances, it is unlikely that any of the supporters at the castle will attempt anything without direct orders, and the Dark Lord will want to understand what he's up against before he attempts to have me eliminated. At the moment, I believe they will all have been instructed to retain their current positions, which means that they are pretending to be neutral or actively against the Dark Lord. Besides which, it has been a very long time since I have not been on my guard at all times."
She nodded. It went without saying that he could handle almost any spell that was thrown his way, and it was unlikely that the children would risk an Unforgivable within Hogwarts. Since only the Killing Curse would have the desired outcome and it was the hardest to cast, it seemed unlikely that there was an extraordinary amount of danger. Certainly not more than he had faced when he was spying, anyway.
Albus knew the situation that Severus was now in, and she trusted that he would be doing his part to ensure that the Head of Slytherin was safe. Fortunately for her peace of mind, she was able to keep an eye on him as well. The castle was quite sensitive to her feelings, and she knew that it would monitor Severus as only it could. She would simply never tell him about it.
When it came to his personal safety, she would do whatever was necessary regardless of his feelings on the matter. If that meant that at some point they were going to have one hell of a shouting match, then so be it.
To her relief, now that they'd discussed the topic that had obviously been dwelling on his mind, they were able to move on to much more innocuous conversation. Hidden meanings and sudden pitfalls were lessened this way, and she would be really grateful if they could make it through the evening without any disasters.
They talked about Potions, even discussed Defence in a non-confrontational way that didn't involve insulting Tonks. Since it had begun to feel as though they were getting to know one another, she even offered several stories from her childhood.
It was impossible to miss the wariness that he radiated now that this subject had been broached, so she was careful not to ask any questions. She was still worried that he might feel as though she expected him to reciprocate even without her asking, so she cast about for a way to immediately divert the conversation.
"I have a very serious question for you," she announced in her gravest of voices.
His face was expressionless and his voice completely even as he said, "Yes?"
She wondered if he realized just how clear this made it that he was highly uncomfortable.
"How much do you like Quidditch?"
He blinked, frowned, finally ventured, "That's your serious question?"
She nodded, a smile playing around the corner of her lips. "You don't tend to bring it up in my company, but I recall my first year tolerably well, and I assume Madam Hooch wouldn't have let you referee without adequate training."
"I am hardly Quidditch mad," he answered slowly, as though still looking for hidden meaning that didn't exist in the question. "But I played in my youth and am hardly about to forget the rules."
From what she recalled—albeit not in great detail—there were about a zillion different fouls and illegal moves in the game. Still, he did have one of the most organized minds that she knew, and she supposed that schoolchildren weren't going to compare to the league matches where all these moves and fouls were more likely to occur.
"And you own a broom and aren't afraid to use it," she teased.
"I am an adequate flyer," he answered. "Nowhere up to Mr Potter's or Mr Krum's standards, of course."
It was impossible not to detect the bitterness in his tone.
"Well, I'll just have to leap up and march out of here in disgust," she said dryly, "given how extraordinary my own skills are and how concerned I am about expert flying ability." She adopted a lofty tone. "It's a requirement I make of all my friends."
His expression eased. "As you say."
They made it through the evening with no more than minor moments of irritation and upset. Winky popped in and volunteered tea once more, resulting in the appearance of a mountain of food and beverages for their pleasure. Although Hermione doubted that Severus was an expert on unicorns, now that he knew about her transformation, he seemed much more resigned to the way she ate than he had been previously. Winky had, of course, included chocolate mousse, and Severus watched with amusement as she consumed it eagerly.
She noticed belatedly that there'd only been the one bowl of it. She looked up at him guiltily.
"Ought I to have offered to share?"
Smirking at her, he shook his head. "I don't have that sort of interest in mousse."
So he had a flawed taste in mousse…. No one was perfect. And, she reflected, if he loved mousse the way she did, they might have to fight over it, so perhaps this was the perfect situation after all. She eyed him speculatively. He was so talented with potions, she wondered what the chances were that he could make a good mousse.
"What?" he demanded.
She startled. "Hmm?"
"You were staring."
"Was I?" He offered her a glare, and she sighed and mumbled, "I was just wondering if you made mousse."
He stared at her flatly for a moment, and then his lips twitched. "I've never made it."
She nodded, willing herself not to blush.
"Is that also a requirement you make of all your friends?" he pursued, light dancing in his dark eyes.
She grinned at him, pleased that his mockery was taking a friendly form. "Yes. They must all be expert mousse-makers."
"Would it perhaps be easier if I were furnished with a list of your requirements?"
"That would simplify matters," she agreed solemnly.
It was a very pleasing night. Severus made sure to invite her back the next day stressing plainly and self-deprecatingly that it would once again be in his quarters and would not in any way relate to a real detention, and she appreciated his effort.
It wasn't as good as dating him, of course, but being friends was a vast improvement over his acting as though she had less value than the dirt beneath his feet.
She was surprised to realize as she made the short walk back to her quarters that it was nearly eleven. She had no idea where the time had gone but didn't regret a moment of it.
Harry and Draco were once again installed in the common room waiting to see that she got home safely.
"Well?" Harry demanded immediately, taking in her relatively immaculate appearance. "What on Earth did he make you do?"
She smiled. "Tea."
"What?"
"We had tea," she elaborated with a bigger smile. "We talked and had tea."
Harry looked completely nonplussed. "That was a detention? I don't remember any like that."
"That was a meeting between friends that occurred at the time when my detention was originally going to take place," she corrected.
"He's cancelled your detentions?" Draco asked, eyebrows heading towards his hairline.
Harry's lips twisted. "Or he decided that the hours upon hours upon hours that he made her do on Monday and Tuesday were adequate punishment for something that was his fault anyway."
At this point, she was very much willing to let that go.
"He cancelled my detentions," she agreed with Draco. "Although, needless to say, he'll deny it should you ever ask."
"Of course," Draco agreed with a smirk.
"I'm going to bed," she declared. "I'll see you in the morning?"
Neither of them commented on how early it was for her to be going to sleep, which she took to mean that they were entirely happy to have the time to themselves. She would review for a couple of hours on her own, and they would get up to whatever mischief they wished.
Briefly, she let herself imagine what sort of mischief she could get up to with Severus, but she quashed the thought before it could get too far. She was just working on becoming friends with the man again, and she couldn't allow inappropriate thoughts to ruin that.