Unofficial Portkey Archive

~~ 9 ~~

Breaking Bonds

"This is my life.

It's not what it was before,

All these feelings I've shared.

And these are my dreams

That I've never lived before."

--Staind

Fear eats at me from the inside out, but through the absolute terror that I am fighting to keep suppressed is a feeling of blissful anticipation. For the past two years of my miserable existence I have envisioned the moment when my hands would lift that wretched Sphere from its crystal perch and hold it high above my head. I would throw it to the ground and watch as a shower of crimson shards filled my world. It would be the most beautiful sight of my life. No matter how many times I saw it in my mind, at night in dreams or in classes, I never tired of it. But deep down, I'd never expected that moment to ever actually arrive. Now here it is-a chance to live out a dream that has sustained me for so long. A chance handed to me by the last person I'd ever have suspected-by someone whom I don't deserve to receive anything from. By a friend I've betrayed in more ways than I can easily count.

As I stand here next to him, it is still too far beyond me to understand his thought processes. How can he forgive me so completely already? Certainly he still has his doubts about my loyalty, but for him to even place this much faith in me is unbelievable after all I have done to him. Now he is willing to risk everything he's been fighting for to help me, when he wouldn't have to be fighting so hard for anything if it wasn't for me in the first place. These thoughts pound painfully at my mind. In all my dreams, no matter how far-fetched, forgiveness from my friends was something I never hoped I could earn. And yet I have gained it from Harry-with no understanding as to how or why.

I suppose he sees my conflicted expression and mistakes it for worry, because he walks closer to me and, after a moment's hesitation, copies my earlier sign of reassurance. He grabs my hand and gives it a short squeeze before releasing it. "We can do this," he says in a soft, but confident tone.

I consider correcting him-telling him that I am not worried, simply confused. In the end, I do not. "We seem to have switched places," I say gently. "A moment ago I was reassuring you."

"We all need reassurance sometimes," he replies quietly. He says no more, walking further into the cave and leaving me standing at the entrance by myself.

The silence that drops upon us again gives me time to thoroughly think it all through. I begin to realize that I am dwelling far too much on the best aspect of it all-destroying the Sphere of Truth. In order to attain that goal, I have to first survive the much harsher and more frightening elements of this plan. For the first time, what I've agreed to completely hits me. I am going to allow Lucius to capture me. I have told Harry to do nothing to help me-to focus only on getting the Sphere. Lucius has hurt me to the point of near death for far less than this. I shudder to think what I will have to go through. Will I even survive? What if he doesn't even take me to his office-what if he takes me directly to Voldemort himself? These new doubts send shivers down my spine. This plan has so many holes, so many ways for it to go wrong. Yet it is still our only chance. I cannot back down now, no matter how strong my apprehension is.

Still, my worries present a notable thought, which reveal to Harry: "What if he takes me right to Voldemort?"

Harry turns to look at me, brow furrowed in thought. It is apparent that he has not considered this possibility either. "We have to make sure you get into the office," he states. "It would be too easy for him to drag you off somewhere else if you just walk in the doors and announce your arrival. We need to rework this." He thinks for a few minutes, then says, "You don't know the password to Lucius's office, right?"

"No. If I did then this would all be quite a bit easier, I daresay."

"Everyone else in the castle has less power than Lucius, right? He's the top dog?" Harry questions.

"Yes, he holds the ultimate power in the castle, except when Voldemort comes. He's not there often, though. Why? What are you planning?" I ask.

"Well, if you were captured by someone other than Lucius, then that person would take you right up to his office, I'd assume?" I nod. "Okay. Then Lucius would be likely to keep you in there for at least a little while if someone put you there. So we need someone else to catch you, to be sure that they take you there. One of the professors, not a student."

"Snape," I reply instantly.

Harry scowls angrily. "Snape's still there? The ruddy traitor! I always knew Dumbledore was wrong in trusting him." He goes on to call Snape a variety of colorful names. Then he looks at me in confusion. "Why do you want to go to Snape?"

"Hard as it may be for you to believe, I don't think Snape really is loyal to Voldemort. No, don't give me that look, Harry, I'm serious. All the other professors are . . . horribly cruel. It's not even right to call them professors. They're just Death Eaters. They use the Cruciatus Curse on you if you get an answer wrong. They've used it on me before because I got too many right in a row. Snape's never hurt any of us. He's been surprisingly nice to me. Not to say he's ever been supportive, but he never forces me to answer questions, or picks on me in class like he used to. He's not given me one detention since this all began. And certain times when I've been unable to complete the assigned work for . . . various reasons, he's never marked me down. He's a bad guy, Harry, but he's the lesser of many evils."

Harry grimaces in sympathy and lays a hand on my arm. I shrug him off and he retracts it. I swear that for a moment I see something that looks almost like hurt in his eyes, but he breaks eye contact a moment later and continues on the conversation as though none of this has taken place. "Okay, I'll trust you word on it. Snape's our boy."

"How do we get all the way down to the dungeons without being seen?" I ask thoughtfully.

"The same way I'm getting around without being seen-the Invisibility Cloak. We'll both use it to get down there, then you'll appear and I'll stay hidden." Harry bites his lip. "We'll need to work up an excuse as to why you'd present yourself to them, though. They'll anticipate a trap if you just walk in without an explanation."

I shake my head sadly. "That's not a problem. Ever since that Howler you sent me way back which exploded in front of everyone, they all know that I'm stuck between our two sides and hated by both. They'll just suspect what they always have-that I returned and was shunned, so I've come back to the only people who'll keep me. The only one who'll doubt that is Voldemort himself, and if luck is with us, we won't have to meet up with him."

Harry's expression is pained. "Hermione, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," I cut him off, knowing that he is referring to the Howler. "I don't blame you." I turn away in a clear sign that this particular strain of conversation has ended. "So that's the plan, then."

"I am sorry," he says, this time ignoring my obvious signal to drop it. "At that point I had no way of knowing the truth. At that point the truth was concealed from all of us in one way or another. But that time is gone now. Now we can all really start to see those hidden truths for the first time. There's no reason to hold on to the lies any longer. We have to start again."

And it is with this that Harry ended the conversation, leaving me pondering my thoughts on him and his feelings even more than before.

* ~ * ~ *

It is another ten minutes before Sirius Apparates into the cave once more, this time holding a folded, silvery bundle in his right hand. Harry takes the cloak from him quickly and nods, letting it run over his fingers, looking almost like liquid in its flowing movements. He nods again and looks up at Sirius. "Thanks," he says. "For everything."

Sirius puts a hand on Harry's shoulder in a fatherly way. The affectionate moment ends quickly and he looks to me. I force myself to find the courage to meet his eyes and not look away. Sirius walks up and looks down at me. My courage disappears at his close proximity, and I turn my attention to my shoes.

"Harry trusts you, Hermione," he says quietly. "I personally am unsure as to why he trusts you to such a fierce degree, but he does. I'll go with his decision in this case. I really hope he's right to put his trust in you. He could use someone like you-or someone like he thinks you are, depending on whether this is all still an act. He lost a big part of himself the day you turned traitor. He's never been the same. I'd really like to see that part of my godson restored. All I can do is beg you not to hurt him again. So good luck." He raises his voice so that Harry can hear the words he speaks as well. "Harry, you know the way to the emergency safe house? You know where it is and what spells it takes to get in?"

"Yes," he says.

"Go there once you're done at Puerclades. It'll keep you safe for the time being." Sirius looks at me. "Go there no matter what happens."

I understand what he means by this-he is telling Harry to go to this safe house, with me if I prove myself loyal, or alone if I ultimately end up a traitor. His distrust is like a painful stake through my heart, but at least I can understand it. I know why he doesn't trust me and I expect it. Harry's behavior, while so much kinder, is so much harder to assess, and therefore harder to cope with.

Sirius continues. "I would like to help you, as would Dumbledore. Unfortunately, we all agree-it's too risky. We cannot risk the lives of our entire resistance on this battle, which has no real point in the overall war. I wanted to come to help you myself, but Dumbledore forbid me. Of course, if you'd like me to come along, I could always do that."

Harry gives a small shake of his head. "No worries. I understand where you're coming from. If things were reversed, I'd make the same decision. I wouldn't let you help if you wanted to-and I don't want you to defy Dumbledore my sake. You've helped enough. We'll contact you once it's done." I notice his emphasis on the word 'we'.

"Best of luck," says Sirius, embracing Harry tightly for a few seconds. I can see the unease and worry written in his features. He does not speak it, but it is obvious to anyone watching that it still lingers there. He still considers himself responsible for Harry and still blames himself for Lily and James's deaths. He is obviously worried that he will soon have another death on his conscience.

Then we are on our own, Sirius departing without another word or warning. Harry fingers the cloak again, staring at it with an unreadable expression. Finally, he sighs and glances up at me. "I guess it's time, then," he says without expression.

"I suppose," I respond softly.

"So what's the best time to go in?" he asks.

"After classes have ended, but before dinner if we hope to catch Snape alone in his office. The Death Eaters all have meetings after dinner, so we couldn't catch him later."

"Then we'd best start out now."

The walk is long and silent. The only sound comes from the crunching of the snow beneath our feet and our increasingly ragged breaths. The air is bitterly cold, so harsh that it turns our throats raw and sensitive within minutes, making every breath a painful venture. Our silence is heavy and tense. Both of us are dealing with our own demons about this plan, refraining from putting them into words out of fear. After a while, my throat stops working properly and I can hardly swallow. My fear has far surpassed terror, and ventured into an unnamed level of fright. I am shaking, but it is not from the cold. The more I try to keep my mind on the moment when that Sphere will break into a million shards of glass, the harder it seems to be.

It is a long and biting trek from that cave to the edge of the Forbidden Forest around Puerclades, but for me, it is over far too soon. In what seems like seconds after we set off, we are kneeling in the snowy bushes and looking out at the entrance of a place that built my life at one time, and ruined it at another. Once again, on this day, this will be the setting of a life-altering event.

Harry speaks for the first time in over an hour. "What time do classes let out?"

"Around four in the afternoon. Then the students have two hours before dinner for homework or whatever they want to do."

"What's the day today?" he asks. "Is it a weekend or a weekday?"

I think hard on this. So much has happened recently that I've lost track of time. I never really paid much attention while I was trapped in Puerclades anyway. I've learned that the more attention I pay to the time, the harder it is to continue on each day. "I think it's Sunday," I whisper. "I'm not certain, though."

"We're going with that, then, because my calculations say it's Sunday as well," says Harry, nodding. "We might as well check. If we're wrong, we'll just slip back out and wait. It can't hurt, can it?"

"Yes, it can," I say grimly. "But there aren't any other options right now, so let's do it."

Harry unfolds the Invisibility Cloak with a few graceful shakes, which send it gliding and shimmering through the frigid air, its color complementing the ivory snow in a gorgeous way. Harry sends me a look that says quite clearly, 'Last chance to back out.' Knowing that he is only sending this message for my benefit. I step forward and allow him to throw the cloak snugly about our shoulders and make sure that it touches the ground, covering our feet as well. As Harry's grown quite tall, he has to duck down to make sure the cloak covers us entirely.

It's much warmer under its silky material. Our breath, which has been freezing and turning to mist, now is trapped in the cloak with us, adding extra warmth. Despite this, I am shivering more fiercely than ever, and I can feel that Harry is experiencing a few tremors of his own, but I say nothing. For a moment, we both seem content to stand here in silence, staring up at the castle with trepidation. Finally, Harry sighs and takes a step forward. I follow and try to keep my steps even with his as we make our way through the snow and up to the castle. If either of us falls too far behind while under the cloak, it'll come off entirely, which is not something we want while standing out in the middle of an open, vacant, snowy courtyard.

I look behind me at one point and a thought hits me suddenly. "Stop," I hiss to Harry, and he instantaneously complies.

"What is it?" he asks, looking around us warily as though someone is standing there listening.

"Our footprints," I mutter. "Don't you think that footprints appearing in the snow with no one to make them must look a little weird for anyone that happens to be peering out of their windows right now?"

Harry winces. "Yeah, I didn't think of that. . . . Okay, listen-you face forward and take steps when I tell you to. I'll face backwards and clear the footprints as I go with my wand. We'll have to go slow so as to keep the Invisibility Cloak over new footprints, because seeing a footprint appear mysteriously in the snow, then vanish a moment later must look even weirder."

So our progress up to the castle was quite tedious. I am lucky to get as far as ten feet in sixty seconds. One would think that I would be relieved at the slow pace-that I would be grateful for every instant I have before actually reaching the castle. In all honesty, I wish we could have just gotten there and put the plan into motion. Sitting here with my heart thudding painfully and my body shivering in terror was not in any way ideal. My stomach is twisting in painful knots that, at different intervals, make me switch between feeling near tears and close to throwing up. I'd almost rather just get it over with then stand here and put up with the nerves for any longer.

Even considering these musings of mine, when we finally do reach the doors of the castle, I can't say I feel relieved, or at all different from the way I've felt since we left the comfort of the cave. I pause on the top of the steps, allowing Harry to vanish our most recent footsteps. Finally, he turns to me and raises an eyebrow. It's clear that he's attempting to look prepared and determined, but I can read the fear in him.

"Ready, then?" he asks.

"Harry, I'm beginning to get impatient with your constant desire to turn me away from this," I say in a slightly irritated tone.

"I just don't want to see you hurt. I care about you." I read in his expression that saying these words is a trial for him. That he is uncertain of how I'll take it, and is uncertain himself of if that is the way he truly feels. But I can also see that he does not regret them.

"I don't know why you would," I reply softly. He opens his mouth to reply, but I've tired of the conversation. I push open the doors to the Entrance Hall and he is forced to fall silent.

My heart pounds as I take the risk of opening the doors wide enough to step through. What if someone is in here and they see the door mysteriously open by itself? What was I thinking, opening the door without being sure the Entrance Hall is empty?

Unfortunately, my suspicions that someone might be inside are correct. Once Harry and I have stepped inside and the door is gliding silently shut behind us, we notice two fifth year boys standing some distance away in a dark corner. They are watching the door through narrowed eyes. For a moment, all is still, including Harry and I. Then the boys exchange a glance and pull out their wands, beginning to advance towards the door uncertainly.

I feel Harry raise his wand next to me and utter, "Stupefy!" twice, aiming once at each boy. The spell connects, and they don't have time to even wonder from where it originated before they fold limply into a heap on the floor.

I expect some sort of a reprimand from Harry for being stupid enough to open the door, but it does not come. Instead, he begins to walk silently towards the fallen boys, and I have no choice but to follow in an effort to keep the cloak over us both. He looks down at them and raises his wand again, aiming a couple of dueling hexes at each of them. The final product was the taller boy sporting an assortment of nasty looking, acid green pustules across every bit of skin that was visible, and a shock of hair in patches of different colors. The shorter boy, whom I vaguely recognized as being one of the professors' sons, had a great deal of white hair coming from his nostrils and teeth large enough to rival a beaver's. I expect Harry used a variation of the hex Malfoy hit me with in fourth year that made my teeth grow, only the growing did not continue for this boy. I raise an eyebrow at Harry, questioning why he bothered doing this.

Harry shrugged, a small sort of smile playing on his lips. "Two reasons. One-if anyone finds them, it'll just look like they were in a duel. No one will suspect anything. Two-I couldn't resist hexing the future Death Eaters of the world."

He knelt down and grabbed the wand out of the limp hand of the boy with the green pustules, handing it to me. "Here. So we're both armed."

I nod shortly and clench the wand tightly in my fist, thankful for it.

We set out again, with a closer eye towards caution. We pass many students talking in the halls, which confirms our suspicions that this is indeed a weekend, for had it not been, all the kids would have been in class at this time. We have a couple of close run-ins-namely, almost running into a group of girls when I stumbled over the bottom of the cloak, and almost revealing ourselves when Harry attempted to dive at Draco Malfoy when we passed him-but we reach the corridor to Snape's dungeon without too much interference.

After what seems like far too short a time, we are standing in front of Snape's dungeon door. I stare at it with apprehension, the full caliber of the insanity of this plan hitting me. Was I really just going to walk in? What would I say? What would Snape do? Can I really do this?

Harry seems to sense my doubts and grabs my hand. I look at him, not bothering to conceal my fear. "This is madness," I whisper, managing a small, weak laugh.

"That's an un understatement," he replies in an equally soft voice. "Look, you said it yourself that Snape won't hurt you. I'm going to be lurking just out here in the shadows. I'll be with you the whole way. You won't be able to see me, but never doubt that I'm there. I won't leave you."

"What happens if you don't manage to slip up to Lucius's office with me? What if you miss your chance and I'm alone and don't even know it until I make my move?" I ask, a sudden desperation to turn back grabbing me.

He squeezes my hand before releasing it. "That won't happen. Even if I miss the chance the first time, I'll hear the password. I can open it again and slip up. But that won't happen. Now go on. I won't come inside because I don't want to risk being seen, but I'll be right out here. Okay?"

I nod, my throat clenched too tightly to say a word. I take several deep breaths before ducking out from under the cloak.

I feel so vulnerable without the cloak to protect me. Being out in the open is a terrifying feeling, and all I want is to get back under it. Not being able to see Harry doesn't help. I know he is there, but that doesn't stop the feeling of abandonment that overtakes me.

Harry's voice, from under the cloak, whispers encouragingly, "You can do it, Hermione."

If this were a fairy tale and I was the heroine, Harry's words would have been enough to fill me with a sudden feeling of certainty and confidence, and I would have strode through the doors to confront Snape proudly, my head held high. But this is not a fairy tale. Harry's words do nothing to stop the pounding of my heart and the barely noticeable, terrified tremors racing through me. It helps me a little to know he is still there, but the extent of their aid pretty much ends there. Nevertheless, I force my shaking hand to reach for the doorknob and twist it.

The creaking of the hinges of the door and my hesitant footsteps echo throughout the dungeon imposingly. The room is empty, and there is no sign of Professor Snape or anyone else. I force myself to take one more step, then another, towards the desk beyond which lies the Potions Master's office. I make no effort to hurry, but even so, it does not take long to cross the room to a point where I can see into the office beyond, and sure enough, Severus Snape sits at his desk, scribbling fiercely with a quill on a piece of parchment from a stack that is likely to be student tests. The door is open and he is facing me, but he is focused on the papers and doesn't seem aware that I am here.

Uncertainty grips me. Oh, what do I do? Possibilities of how to start off the conversation run through my mind, each as unlikely and ridiculous as the next. "Hello, Professor, what's up? Anything new since I've been gone?" and "Oh, is that a test I missed? Can I take it once Malfoy is done punishing me for running off?" Under other circumstances, such musings might have struck me as funny, but now they only serve to frighten me more.

In the end, Snape saves me the trouble of deciding on anything. Finally finishing his writing, he looks up while he dips his quill in a bottle of ink, and his eyes fall on me. My breath intakes sharply as he stares at me in what is apparent disbelief for several moments. His stupor does not last nearly long enough for my tastes, and he stands up with a grimace, striding around his work area and out the door, only stopping once he is facing me on the opposite side of the desk which oversees the classroom. He slams his palms down on the wooden surface of the desk and leans forward, glaring at me. "What do you think you're doing?" he demands angrily.

My mouth opens and closes several times before I manage to utter the words I'm looking for. "I-I don't understand what you mean, Professor." My voice is choked and filled with shock. I hadn't expected this sort of a reaction, but then, I'm not to sure what I did expect.

"I would assume my meaning is perfectly clear, Miss Granger. What are you doing back here, foolish girl?" he hisses.

I'm quite surprised, and begin rambling a response without much thought. "I went back . . . to Harry and Ron, and they turned me away, like I guess I should have known they would, so I . . . I came back. What did you expect me to do?"

Snape let out a growl, his cold black eyes flashing. "Miss Granger, I'm sorry to say that I've overestimated your intelligence these past years by a great margin. They turned you away-that does not matter. Surely there is someplace out there where you could have stayed hidden? You finally get a chance to escape this place, and you return to it?" His voice is full of incredulous sarcasm.

"I didn't know where to go," I lie. "I just . . . I don't know . . ." I trail off, feeling completely lost.

He sighs in exasperation, and meets my gaze with a penetrating one of his own. "Tell me, Miss Granger, do you enjoy being the Death Eaters' main punching bag? Or do you have some deep, underlying interest in the Dark Arts? Because I'd have thought that you'd have the sense to get as far away from this wretched place as you can while you had the chance!"

"Of course I don't like what they do to me!" I cry in anger, indignation overcoming me. Who does he think he is? "And I'll die before I turn to the dark side."

"Then answer my question-what has brought you back?"

I feel like kicking myself. I've just turned down two perfectly good excuses. I could have just used one-it isn't as though I care about Snape's opinion. The whole idea is to get him to take me to Lucius, and apparently he needs an excuse before he'll do that. Arguing in my own defense isn't helping. I've backed myself into a corner in which I'll have to find a lie of my own-a lie more substantial than the one about the Light side turning me away. In the end, Snape's glare seems to have the effect of chasing away all thoughts of what I can say.

"I . . ." I say, trailing off with a shrug of uncertainty.

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't discontinue his penetrating stare. I focus my glare on the stone ground instead, unnerved but desperate not to show signs of weakness.

"Of course," he whispers, sounding as though an idea is dawning on him. I look up in confusion and he asks me harshly, "How did you get in without anyone seeing you?"

Oh, Merlin, he knows! I realize desperately. I'd been a fool to assume we could trick them! He is staring at me expectantly, and I mutter lamely in a futile effort to delay the inevitable, "I was . . . lucky . . . I guess . . ."

"Lucky. Of course," he murmurs silkily. His eyes are staring me down now, and I have no more doubts. He knows. Fear surges up in me and before I can decide on a more sensible course of action, I turn, intending to run for the door and hope that Harry and I can make it back out before we're trapped.

Snape's reflexes are simply too fast. He lunges across the desk and he snags my arm in a bruising, vice-like grip. I cry out in horror and pull the wand Harry gave me from the pocket in my robes, aiming it at him. Once again, he is faster. He knocks the wand from my hand and it flies through the air, landing on the ground some ten feet away. Snape grabs my other arm and I begin to struggle violently. It's over, I realize with a sense of dreadful defeat. It's really over. I just hope that Harry has the sense to get out without me.

"Miss Granger, calm yourself!" Snape growls angrily. "I am not going to hurt you! I am simply attempting to keep you from running out the door or hexing me-I will release you once you show signs that you don't intend to do either!"

"And I have plenty of reason to believe that!" I snap, attempting to punch him in the jaw when he wasn't expecting me to be aiming my hands in that direction-I miss.

When he speaks again, his voice is choppy with the effort of restraining me, but it is uncharacteristically sincere and calm. "I ask you-since Hogwarts was turned into Puerclades, have I ever harmed you?"

I unconsciously begin to stop my struggles, though I don't stop tugging at my arms every now and then. His tone and his words reach me. True, as I told Harry, he's never hurt me or harassed me since everything changed. My fear has not subsided, but I am beginning to wonder if everything is as I am perceiving it, and truth be told, struggling against him was doing me no good anyway.

"Good girl," he mutters as I cease my attempts at escape. "If you make a run for the door, I will stop you, but you may retrieve your wand." True to his word, he releases me.

I don't move for ten whole seconds, simply staring at him, shocked. Despite the fact that I'd stopped struggling, I hadn't expected him to let me go. I can feel a dull, throbbing ache where his hands had been wrapped so tightly around my arms, and feel certain that bruises will end up forming there.

"Well, are you going to get it or will we stand here all night?" Snape demanded with a scowl.

I nod slowly, stepping away from the desk and walking over to where the wand landed. I never take my eyes fully off him, not trusting that he might attack me from behind, though I can see no logic in why he would. Once my hand closes around the handle of the wand, I leap to my feet, pointing it straight at him. He makes no move to pull out his own. I realize for the first time that he didn't once bother pulling out his own wand-he'd let me struggle when there were dozens of curses that could easily have stopped me.

He sighs in exasperation. "Lower the wand, or I will be forced to confiscate it from you, which I'd rather not do."

"Why should I?" I ask daringly, not yet willing to put away my best means of self-defense.

He rolls his eyes skyward as I remember seeing him do so many times in the past when Neville turned a potion so unbelievably wrong that it was hardly conceivable. However, when he speaks, he keeps his voice even and low, without the threatening growl it usually contains. "I didn't tell you to put it away, Miss Granger, just to lower it. My wand is in my office. If you'd like to verify that, summon it to you and hold it. I already told you that I do not intend to hurt you."

While summoning Snape's wand was most likely the sensible thing to do, for some reason, I refrain. Confusion is taking me over. A minute ago I'd been completely convinced that he was going to torture me or expose my plan to Lucius, or both. Now I don't know what's going on. I lower my wand slowly to my side and step closer to the desk. I stay just out of his reach, watching him in wary curiosity.

Snape gazes at me with an unreadable expression. "I don't suppose it's necessary to ask you to confirm my suspicions after that entire episode, but for the sake of being thorough, I'll make sure that I'm completely correct. You snuck in under Potter's Invisibility Cloak? And I suppose Potter and Weasley are lurking around here somewhere as well, still hidden? Come for some daring plan, I anticipate?"

I do not bother to deny it. To do so would be unintelligent, and would gain me a worse punishment, depending on what he intends to do with this information. He'd still believe what he does, and I'd look like a fool. Still, I don't mention that it's only Harry and I, and that Ron does not trust me. "Yes," I say simply. On second thought, I add, "How did you know?"

"Do not take me for a fool. It may have taken me a moment, but it was the only thing that made any sense. Why else would you have returned? Why else would you have presented yourself to me without even a decent excuse as to why you are here? How else could you not have been seen and dragged away long before you reached here?" Snape asks. His logic is unbeatable. Why didn't Harry and I anticipate this? It should have been obvious that Snape would figure it out.

"What are you going to do to me?" I whisper.

"I'm shocked that our brightest pupil could possibly be so dense. How many times must I repeat the fact that I do not intend to hurt you?" he said rather snappishly.

"Then what are you going to do?" I ask. "Tell Lucius about all of this?"

He studies me intently. "No, Miss Granger. I will not tell Malfoy a thing."

I frown for a moment, opening my mouth to demand to know why, when the thought that has been eluding me finally hits me, putting the last puzzle piece into place. I blink, feeling startled that I had not considered it before. "You're still with Dumbledore, aren't you?"

"Bravo, she gets it at long last," he said scathingly. "Indeed, I am. I've not had much chance to speak with him in the last two years, with the exception of a couple of brief informational exchanges-all we could risk-but I am loyal to him. I've known that you were not responsible, as Dumbledore thought you to be, but I dared not pass along that information. To do so would have been asking for death. I was only able to pass small, seemingly useless bits of information to him, because I am monitored closely.

"I do not intend to hand you over to Lucius Malfoy. I cannot help you, though, I am afraid. I have a cover to maintain. Therefore, I will give you one chance to go out, find Potter, slip back under his cloak, and then you can abort your little mission and leave. No one will ever know that any of this happened here today."

For a moment, I consider agreeing and thanking him, consider running back out to the corridor and telling Harry we can't do this. But this urge is small and fleeting, and using some reserve of courage that I didn't even know I possessed, I shake my head. "I can't do that, Professor."

"Gryffindor courage may be useful in some situations, but you are misusing it in this one," said Snape in disgust. "If you decide to stay, I will have no choice but to take you to Lucius. I must maintain my cover. I will not tell him of what we've spoken of, but I'll have to take you to him. If he finds out you were here and I did not bring you to him, Dumbledore's only spy within this school will be compromised. I can't risk it. Last chance, girl-get out and save your life."

For a moment, I consider telling him that the whole point of this was to get him to take me to Lucius in the first place, but decide against it within a millisecond. The less he knows, the better. I shake my head again. "It's too late for second thoughts, sir. I'm staying. You do what you have to-I understand. But I'm not leaving."

Snape is clearly disgusted at my decision. Without a word, he turns and strides into his office, grabbing his wand and returning to me. He nods to the door. "Get going then, Granger."

I turn and begin to walk back towards the door. This entire confrontation has been so much different than I'd imagined. The pure madness of it all had driven the fear of what is coming out of my mind for the time being, but now, as our footsteps echo and we near the door, my throat is beginning to constrict again. I'm going to face Lucius now, but I haven't a shred of confidence that this plan is going to work. This entire first part of the plan has turned out entirely wrong. Whose to say the next part won't end up the same?

Once we're out in the corridor, Snape stops, and I turn to look at him. "Last chance," he mutters in a low tone. "Once we're seen by even one person, you can't change your decision."

"I don't want to change it," I say resolutely, though my voice quavers as I speak.

Snape points to the end of the corridor, indicating that I should start walking again. I hear him sigh softly behind me once I've begun moving, and I turn around just in time to see him casting a furtive glance around. I have a strange sensation that he's looking to find Harry.

We-or should I say I-get many startled glances and jeers as we walk through the upper corridors. I struggle to keep my eyes lowered and look passive and meek, which I must admit is not hard. Fear is racing through me at a speed faster than light. I am praying silently that Harry is behind me, keeping up. I want nothing more than to look back and see, but to do so would be foolish. It would give the impression that I'm looking for something to anyone who may be watching my reactions a little too closely, and I won't be able to see him even if he is there. In the end, though it is a struggle, I manage to keep my attention focused forward the entire time.

The area around the gargoyle entrance to the headmaster's office is deserted. Snape and I stop in front of the gargoyle, neither of us saying a word. As Snape moves forward, aiming his wand at the gargoyle, I am sure that I hear a soft footfall somewhere behind me. This belief is reinforced when Snape spins around quickly, apparently having heard it too. No one is there-the corridor is still apparently deserted. I feel relief wash over me in that instant, and I'm sure some of it shows on my face. Harry is indeed still behind me, lurking under his Invisibility Cloak. Snape is looking at me, and I know he suspects that Harry is there as well, but he turns back to the gargoyle and raises his wand without a word about it.

He does a series of complex wand movements, accompanied by a long password, which is interrupted by more wand movements. Sometime during this, when Snape's attention is focused on the process of gaining entrance, I feel a hand on my shoulder. My head snaps to one side, and I see only air, but the hand is still resting on my shoulder. I give the apparently empty space next to me the smallest of smiles. I dare not speak to Harry, though the temptation is great. I'd rather Snape doesn't know he is here, and we're far too close to the headmaster's office to assume we're not being overheard.

The gargoyle is sliding back, revealing the escalator-like spiral staircase heading up to the headmaster's office. Never before has that fleet of steps looked more imposing. I hear soft motions next to me and Harry's hand leaves my shoulder. The footsteps continue, and I assume he's moving into a position to follow me closely. I shuffle about in an effort to hide the small sounds he's making.

Snape looks at me. "I'll need the wand you're carrying. Lucius will have expected me to take it from you. I must." He holds out his hand. With a great amount of regret, I hold it out to him slowly. Things just became harder. Now Harry will have to have to find a suitable time to pass me his wand without his presence being realized, or without his wand ending up in Lucius's possession as well.

Snape nods and tucks the wand away in his robes, nodding up the stairs. I begin to move forward, and when my foot hits the first stair, I feel sure that I hear him whisper, "I'm sorry, Miss Granger."

Blood is pounding in my ears and my head, giving me quite the splitting headache. My stomach is doing advanced gymnastics inside my belly, which do nothing to tame my queasiness. The walk up that staircase is the longest and most painful trek I've ever made. When at long last I come to a halt before the wooden door leading into the office, my hands are shaking, and it's all I can do not to allow the rest of my body to break out in violent tremors.

Snape moves past me to knock on the door, and when his back is turned, I feel Harry's hand come into contact with my shoulder again. His presence, while helpful and relieving, isn't enough to calm my terror.

"Lucius! I've with me someone you'd be interested in seeing," calls Snape through the closed door.

"Enter," says the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy. I let out a soft whimper and Snape looks at me. For the first time in the seven years I've known the man, I see something resembling pity in his eyes. Snape turns and opens the door, stepping in before me.

I cannot see Lucius through the small opening between the door and the wall. I can still hear him, though. "So who is it you've brought, Severus? I don't have time to wait around."

"Girl!" Snape calls. "Get in here!"

I raise my head and step into the office with as much dignity as I can muster. Harry's hand does not leave my shoulder the whole time, which is a comfort. However, he removes it the moment we are both inside, moving away, presumably, to a safer area where there was less risk of someone running into him unintentionally.

Lucius's cold gray eyes narrow at the sight of me and I narrow my own back at him. "Well, well, well, what an unexpected surprise," Lucius taunts in a low voice. "So they turned you away, did they? How unlikely." His voice is full of sarcasm with his last comment.

I say nothing. My throat isn't working well enough to allow me to force any words out.

"Severus, leave us," says Lucius without turning his eyes away from me.

"Of course," Snape says with a slight inclination of his head before ducking back out the door and closing it softly behind him.

Lucius walks slowly around his desk, his eyes sweeping me up and down, not saying a word. I fight to keep my expression proud and undaunted, but it is becoming more difficult by the second. The one thing that keeps me from full-blown panic is the knowledge that Harry is here. Out of sight, perhaps, but here nevertheless.

He doesn't stop until he is so close that I can feel his breath on my face. I notice for the first time the wand he holds in his hand, which he is now pointing at me. Before I can react enough to step away, he hisses in a voice barely over a whisper, "Crucio."

Some people might think that being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse many times would lead you to become used to it, to some degree. I can tell you that this is not the case. The pain is never any easier to handle, and you can never, with any amount of practice, manage to keep a right state of mind when you are put under it. You can learn not to scream, not to cry, not to completely break down, but it never becomes easier.

Lucius doesn't let up for what seems like the longest of times. I find myself on the floor when he does, with no clear memory of having gotten there. I do not make a motion to get up. Why bother? He'll most likely just knock me down again, and my knees are far too weak to be stable. I've managed to hold back tears, and I'd rather not show any weakness, but I simply can't find the strength to pull myself to my feet. He is spinning his wand in his fingers with a thoughtful expression, and I have a horrible feeling that he's contemplating what horror he will subject me to next.

I force myself to keep my mind focused. The only way out of this is to do what we came here for. The first thing I have to do is get him to admit that the Sphere was created unfairly, and that I never agreed to betray them. To prove to Harry that I am innocent. Then I must destroy it.

"So tell me, Mudblood," he says softly. His arrogant eyes are cool enough to have been carved from pure ice. "Who was it that turned you away in the end? One of the Weasleys? I'm sure they hate you for giving us the opportunity to destroy their family. Or perhaps Dumbledore? I don't suppose he's quite so open to second chances anymore. Or was it even your precious Potter? I'm surprised he bothered saving you. Waste of time, wasn't it? To save you and then turn you back to me? Do tell me what the point of that whole thing was."

I do not respond. He is baiting me, trying to trigger me into yelling at him or breaking down. Eye on the prize, Hermione, I say firmly to myself. You've got your lead-in to the desired conversation. Use it!

"It's all that bloody Sphere," I say, making my voice shaky but angry at the same time. "It ruined my whole life."

Lucius smirked. "It was your own foolishness that led you to be trapped in the deal. You need to be more careful what you say around the Dark Lord. But if it makes you feel better, go ahead and blame the Sphere."

I'm not sure if that's enough of a guarantee for Harry. Lucius's words are vague, and don't say all too clearly what I want them to. I press further, trying to get Lucius to say in a more obvious manner that Voldemort had tricked me into it.

"It didn't make sense," I whisper. "I didn't think I'd agreed to anything, and how did he get out of being bound?"

Lucius's eyes flash coldly. "You're far too curious for your own good," he hisses, pulling me up by my arms, which are already sore from where Snape had grabbed them earlier. I cry out. Lifting me off my feet, the throws me unceremoniously into the chair on the other side of his desk. My head snaps back so fast that my neck is cricked painfully.

When I dare look up at him again, he is watching me through half-closed eyes. "Inquiring in things that are not your business is a dangerous thing, Mudblood. But if you must know, the Dark Lord has ways of avoiding being bound by certain types of magic." Malfoy sneered. "And of course, foolish little girls are easy to trick."

I'm still not sure if that will be a satisfactory amount of information for Harry, but I dare not press it farther. To do so would be asking far worse than I've already received. I am trembling fiercely. I know that I now must focus my attention on getting the Sphere. I can see it from where I sit. It is perched in its glass container on the bookshelf across the room from where I sit. Perched on a silver staff in the center of a hollow cube of glass, it glimmers in the dim light. Most people would consider the way it catches the light to be mesmerizing. I consider it menacing.

Lucius is twirling his wand again. He has not made a motion to move out from in front of my chair. The Sphere is on the other side of the room. I haven't a hope of getting to it if he doesn't move.

Without warning, Lucius's hand darts out and catches me around the neck. His fingers tighten to a point where I cannot breathe. "I've tired of this conversation," he says in an almost bored tone. "I hope you enjoyed your moments with your old friends, because the vacation's over. And you're about to realize that it's not a good idea to cross me."

I claw desperately at him with my hands, but it is futile. By this point, I can feel my eyes rolling back into my head. My lungs are burning in desperation for air, and just when I'm beginning to think that I will not survive, his releases me. I slump down into the chair, coughing and gasping for breath, my vision distorted and fuzzy. Each time I pull in air, my lungs sting sharply. With each breath, it becomes less painful until the pain has practically faded away. That is more than I can say for my head, which is throbbing something awful.

"You didn't expect me to kill you that soon, did you?" he taunts. "No, I have much more in store for you. You'll soon be seeing death as a luxury-one you won't have the pleasure of experiencing." He aims his wand at me and I close my eyes, preparing to feel the torturous pain of the Cruciatus Curse again.

It doesn't come. Instead, an ear-shattering alarm splits the air like a banshee's shriek. The crystal around the Sphere of Truth is suddenly pulsating with red light, and I realize that the alarm must have been set off.

Lucius spins to look toward the glass case, and seeing my opportunity, I force my pain-numbed limbs to leap upward and pounce onto his back. Lucius, not expecting this, topples forward. However, it is a lost battle from the start. I am weak from the lasting effects of the Cruciatus Curse and lack of air, and he is as strong as ever, also armed with a wand. He has me pinned in ten seconds, and when I try to struggle, his fist lashes out crushing my nose. A moment later, I can feel hot liquid streaming out of it-my blood. The pain is awful-I doubt my nose is broken, but it certainly feels like it. Through it all, the alarm still howls.

And then, just as quickly as this entire thing began, Lucius's weight is no longer atop me. I hear his angry cry of, "POTTER!" and open my eyes. Harry, apparently having abandoned the Invisibility Cloak, was now wrestling with him fiercely. I realize that Harry must have touched the glass in an effort to set off the alarm, as I told him that contact with it would. He is giving me the chance to get to it.

"Hermione!" Harry yells. I pull myself up to my feet and look his way. The moment he sees he has my attention, his wand spirals towards me through the air. "Get it!"

The wand soars past me and it lands on the ground some distance away. I grab it and make a run for the glass container of the Sphere. Behind me, Lucius is making every effort to get past Harry, but Harry has somehow managed to relieve him of his wand, making it quite a bit harder on the older man. However, it is obvious that Harry is still losing. Lucius is hitting at him furiously, and even as I watch, the Death Eater's fist connects with Harry's eye. I know he will not be able to hold his own for much longer.

I grab the glass and a shock of pain runs through me. I gasp and release it, only then remembering the protective shock charm Lucius has placed around it. This time prepared, I force myself to take the pain-I can't waste time looking for a counter-spell. The pain is awful, and it's all I can do to keep myself from passing out-I've taken too much pain since I arrived here, and it's weakened me greatly. My pain resistance is worn down and I can hardly take it. Despite this, all seems to be going well until I realize that I cannot pull the glass container from the surface it is sitting on. It's as though it has adhered to the wood. I let go of it again, panting for breath and leaning on the shelf in an effort to remain standing. I puzzle quickly over which spell is being used to bind the glass to the wood.

"Hermione, hurry!" Harry is calling with a definite note of panic.

All the sound is beginning to take its toll on me-the shrieking alarm, Harry's calls to speed up, Lucius's yelled threats. It is increasing the pain in my skull to a near unbearable level. It is almost impossible to think coherently. I know that I have to figure out which binding charm has been used, then find the counter-spell, but I just can't make my mind work . . .

Somehow, I manage with great difficulty to focus on the task at hand. Is a Permanent Sticking Charm being used? No, that wouldn't make sense. Then Lucius wouldn't be able to remove it either. So then which, out of a spectrum of different levels and intensities of bonding charms, is being used?

I vaguely remember an extra credit assignment I was working on in fifth year for Charms class, about binding charms. How was it that you could tell a higher power charm from a lower power charm? I had to know, for each had a separate counter-spell. I close my eyes in an attempt to block out my surroundings and remember. After several seconds of doing this, it comes to me-if you run your finger along the place where the two bound objects meet, and you can feel a light surge of magic in doing this, then the charm is of a higher strength. If you can't, it is of a lower strength.

My eyes snap open and I quickly run the tip of my finger along the very bottom of the glass where it meets the wooden shelf. I immediately receive the customary shock of pain from the glass, but run my finger along it anyway before removing it. My finger has an odd, fading tingling sensation that has never before accompanied the pain brought from touching the glass. It has to be the aftereffects of a magical surge.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I raise my wand, praying that I am right. "Exonoro!" I say firmly. I watch as a small, barely noticeable blue light runs along the bottom of the glass, finally fading once it has touched every place where the glass is bound.

Sighing in relief, I reach out and pull the glass casing from the wood. This time, the pain fades as soon as the glass leaves the surface, and the alarm goes suddenly silent, which is a relief to my aching skull. I toss the glass case to one side negligently, where it lands on an armchair by the small, roaring fire. My hands shaking, wondering if I really have gotten past all the barriers, or if more are to come, I reach out and pull the Sphere of Truth from its perch. It is chillingly cool to the touch, and much lighter than I'd imagined. It had looked quite heavy, but it was barely heavier then one of my textbooks. I allow myself a smile of grim satisfaction. At long last, it is I who has power over the Sphere, and not the other way around.

This scene does not play out the way I'd imagined it so many times. For one thing, I cannot simply smash the Sphere to the floor-I must use magic to destroy it. I also did not imagine that I would have blood streaming from my burning nose, nor did I ever picture Harry struggling valiantly behind me to hold Lucius Malfoy at bay without magic. But what is most notably different is that never, in all my dreams, was this moment more stunningly amazing.

I toss the sphere into the air with my left hand and aim Harry's wand with my right. This will be my only chance. In its ascent, the Sphere catches the light and glints. Lucius and Harry stop struggling to watch. Time seems to freeze-everyone is perfectly attuned to the movement of the Sphere. Nothing matters but that, for if I succeed, then everything here is settled.

I raise the wand, praying that my timing is correct. "Finite Invitus Nodus!". I say this clearly, focusing all my thoughts and putting all my will into it.Never in all my life have I put such sheer force of will and feeling into a single spell. Even my words seem to be in slow motion.

And then the world erupts in crimson. Not just the glass shards falling, but also a brilliant light that washes down, bathing us all in its phosphorescence.I feel as though I am floating. I can feel my strength growing with each passing instant. A feeling of wonder rushes through me. I feel somethingI have not felt in years-that everything is as it should be.Then these floating instants pass and I amback in painful reality, my whole body tingling, listening attentively to the glass rain sprinkling down around me.

I stumble, regaining my balance after the experience. The glass is littered at my feet. Agelatinous liquid is seeping along the floor, apparently released from core theSphere.Some distance away I can see the golden bars that had once embraced the outside of thenow nonexistentSphere of Truth.

"No!" Lucius cries hoarsely. His eyes come alive with mad, uncontrollable anger. "You will pay!"

He lunges towards me before Harry can stop him, but before I even think about it, my wand arm is raised, and the word, "Stupefy!" has left my mouth. He slumps to the floor instantly and I do no more than stare at him and the destruction that is the world around us. After all the endless, maddening noise, the silence surrounding me is startling in its potency. My dream has been fulfilled. I am standing in a moment I'd only before imagined with a passionate longing. I see the glass case on the armchair, and on impulse, I reach out to it. With one swift motion, I slide it over the edge of the seat of the chair and watch as the crystal shatters, mingling with the blood red glass, which already litters the floor.

In that instant I understand something that is both wondrous and frightening-it is over now. This most terrible part of my life has ended, opening a door to the next chapter. What lies ahead, unknown and mysterious, is sure to be terrible. But what lies behind issomething I've been desperate to escape for a great many years.

I remember Harry's presence forthe first time. He is suddenly right beside me, picking his way carefully through the glass and nursing a bruising jaw with his hand. He looks as bad as I must-his left eye is growing steadily darker from where Lucius hit him, and his glasses are dangling limply in his hand at his side, both the lenses shattered. There's a small trickle of blood running from the side of his mouth, as well as another seeping from his hairline. He looks exhausted, but he's grinning wearily. The two of us embrace instinctively. It is a relief to cling to him. In some way, it seems to verify that this all really is happening-that we really did succeed. While I know that so much still awaits me in my future, nothing could be as bleak as what Iam now leaving behind. I have Harry. The Sphere is gone. Hope, however small and meager, does lie ahead. And that's enough togive me thecourage to continue, and to restore the will to live that I lost so long ago.

"It's over, Hermione,"Harry murmurs softly. "You didit. You were great."

"Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you for everything. For believingin me enough to come with methis far."

"Well, I was right to trust you, as is obvious now. I'm glad I did," he says, stepping back away from me and looking around. As somewhat of an afterthought, he snatches his cloak, which he had discarded in his attempt to restrain Lucius, from the floor nearby. "We have to get out of here now. Death Eaters are sure to be swarming up here any minute. How can we get out? Back under the Invisibility Cloak?"

"Floo Powder,"I say, stepping over near Lucius's flaring furnace and picking some dust out of a dish on the mantle. "But where do we go to?"

"Hideout in Diagon Alley," Harry mutters, bending down to grab his cloak from where he'd left it in a corner. He walks forward and takes some powder of his own. "Let's go, fast. Just say 'resistance sanctuary--Diagon Alley'."

Inod, but something deep within calls to me.I feel a great power within me, waiting to be unleashed.In those instants when the Sphere exploded, some of my powers which were taken from me that day so long ago in Voldemort's lair were restored. I feel powerful. Leaving the destruction behind is not enough. I want to leave a message withit. I hold up a hand, telling Harry to wait, and Iturn and walk to a suitable position. I begin to trace shapes in the air, mumbling words here and there until finally a roaring and slashing Gryffindor lion is left hovering in the air, flashing in the colors of red and gold.

With a small grin-the first smile of any sort that I've worn ina long time-I look to Harry. He too is smiling. "Now it's done," I say softly.

I walk back over to Harry, and for a moment, we are united as we stare at my work. There is something undeniably empowering in seeing that magical lion roar in the air, and a sort of pride overcomes me.

I hand Harry his wand, and something passes between us in that instant. On this day, I have severed an unwilling bond with Lord Voldemort-but at the same time, I have forged a new one witha best friend I thought I'd lost forever.

Leaving behind us the destruction, we step into the flames and are whisked away to a world of spiraling emerald.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed the longest chapter yet! But longer are still to come . . . hehe! And while I will say that there isn't a whole lot of romance in this story, the most explicit of what there is will be in the next chapter. Keep in mind this is not an NC17 lemon, so don't expect a full-blown sex scene, huh? :-) This story wasn't meant for that.