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Chapter 2: In Hiding

"Out, out, everyone OUT!"

Hermione winced at Madam Pomfrey's shouting from behind the curtain. The back of her head was still pounding from where it had hit the stone floor of the Great Hall. She could not believe she had fainted in front of everyone. It was embarrassing enough on its own, but to know that the entire school – no, the entirety of Wizarding Britain – had just read of her supposed sexual liaisons with a professor was positively mortifying.

And Professor Snape, no less. She shuddered in fear and closed her eyes briefly. Can I just curl up and die now?

"Merlin, help us," Pomfrey muttered as she appeared around the curtain. "I've never seen so many students riled up over a little bump on the head."

The girl bit her lip to keep from reacting to the snort that escaped Professor McGonagall.

"I take it you haven't read today's Prophet yet, Poppy," she said with a terse grin.

"Useless drivel if you ask me," the mediwitch grunted, placing a cold compress on the back of Hermione's head. "I haven't read a page of it since that woman's nasty coverage of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I cancelled my subscription after I spent the day treating this one here for the effects of the bubotuber pus someone sent her."

Hermione groaned, remembering the painful boils that had spread across her hands. She wondered how long she had until the hate mail started falling from the sky. There was no doubt in her mind that it would be worse than last time.

"Yeah, well that woman's back for Round Two," Ron muttered from the corner of the cubicle. Neither he nor Harry had had a chance to read the article yet, but they had caught enough snippets of other students' whispers to guess at the topic.

Poppy turned around in surprise. "Oh? And just why aren't you in class Mr. Weasley? And you, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, Professor McGonagall…" the boy started, falling silent at seeing the pointed stare the deputy headmistress was giving him.

Harry sighed and nudged his friend towards the exit. "See you later, Hermione."

"But our first class is Transfiguration," Ron muttered as they slowly walked towards the door.

"I know."

"But if she's in here, how can she possibly teach, mate?"

Minerva sighed as the boys' voices disappeared into the hallway, and looked back at the nurse. "Is she free to leave?"

"I suppose so," she said with a look towards the girl. "No major damage done to your head. Just keep that compress on or you'll end up with lump. I gave you a mild pain reliever, but if your headache gets worse, you can come back here or see Professor Snape to get a stronger one."

At the pained whimper the young witch gave, Poppy's eyebrow raised. "Something I said?"

McGonagall smirked as she helped Hermione from the bed and pointed her towards the fireplace. "Perhaps you should borrow someone's copy of the Prophet."

"Oh, please don't," Hermione whispered mournfully. "I'd like to not be hated by everyone on staff."

Her Head of House smiled and shook her head. "Just why would you assume that I hate you?"

The girl looked up at her with a hopeful gaze. "Does this mean you don't believe it?"

"Definitely not!" McGonagall laughed. "Not only do I know you and Professor Snape well enough to see it for the poppycock it truly is, but I also remember Miss Skeeter from her time here. Her vocabulary may have improved, but her morals and methods certainly have not."

The younger girl gave a small sigh of relief as she watched her professor toss in a pinch of floo powder and call out the Headmaster's office.

"Welcome back to the world of consciousness, Miss Granger!" Dumbledore's cheery voice called out once she had appeared in his office.

She attempted a weak smile, but it faltered once she realized who sat in the armchair facing the headmaster's desk. Gulping down a large helping of air, she crossed over to the plaid sofa and sat down nervously.

Minerva stepped out of the fireplace a few seconds after the girl and immediately strode over to the desk. She was about to address the Headmaster, when a silky drawl interrupted her.

"And all this time, I've been laboring under the false assumption that the Head Girl's quarters were warded in a similar fashion to the girls' dormitories… such a pity that it must have taken me until recently to discover otherwise."

As Dumbledore covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt not to chuckle out loud, the Transfiguration professor raised an eyebrow and spun around. When she noticed Snape had his nose buried in the Daily Prophet, she gave him a heated stare. "Severus, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"Minerva," he said, acknowledging her presence as he momentarily glanced up from the newspaper. "If you're really that curious, I'm reading about my sex life. If you weren't aware, it has suddenly become rather public and is surprisingly quite… active."

Hermione gave a defeated cry and buried her face in her hands. She had not bothered to actually read page seven and she really did not want to know what it said.

The deputy headmistress clucked in disapproval and forcefully smacked her colleague on the arm. "Put that rubbish away."

"Nonsense," Snape replied dryly as he continued to read. "If the rest of the world gets to explore my extra-curricular activities, I certainly have a right to get caught up. At the very least, it may suggest a cause for why I've been so exhausted this year. Apparently, someone else has been… running me ragged."

A fierce heat exploded in the young witch's cheeks, and she wished desperately to dissolve into the couch, never to be seen again.

"You're enjoying this?" McGonagall asked, her eyebrows narrowed in disbelief. She glanced quickly at the Headmaster, whose eyes were still annoyingly twinkling. "He's bloody well enjoying this, Albus! Unbelievable!"

Angrily, she ripped the paper out of the younger man's hands and threw it onto the desk. When he made another reach for it, she grabbed it again, smacked him over the head with it, and then stomped over to the fireplace. As the pages of the Daily Prophet burned to ash, she fixed him with a cold glare.

"I believe you owe Pomona seven knuts for destroying her paper," he said in an unaffected tone. "As for your accusation that I am enjoying this, Madam, I can assure you I am not. Merely attempting to get into the celebratory mood for the little soiree I'm sure someone shall be throwing me this evening."

Hermione looked up at him in confusion and then glanced at her Head of House. Noticing the sudden ashen complexion on the elder woman's face, she narrowed her brows. Half a second later, she finally understood what Snape was referring to, and a queasy feeling settled in her stomach. "Oh, God."

Severus glanced at her worried expression and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He blew out a breath and donned a critical glare. "And what exactly did you do to incur the wrath of the nastiest gossip-monger alive?"

"You're implying she's the only one at fault here?" McGonagall asked, stepping over towards Hermione. She picked up the cold compress that was setting on the couch and placed it none too gently atop the girl's head. "I seem to remember you biting that woman's head off a time or ten during the Tournament. I'm surprised it's taken her this long, honestly."

The wizard rolled his eyes and picked imaginary lint from his robes. "Seeing as she's the calculating shrew, and I'm merely the newest victim in her long line of conquests, it isn't a great leap to surmise–"

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted in a warning tone. "Miss Granger is not to blame for this."

"No?" he queried with a raised brow. "There has to be some explanation for why this happened now."

Hermione sighed and shifted the ice pack. "She wanted to do some stupid article on Harry, and I nicely told her to bugger off."

"I'm in this mess because Potter couldn't be bothered to write his own rejection letter?" A dark expression appeared on his face as he quickly rose out of his chair.

"Not exactly," she whispered meekly.

"What do you mean, not exactly?" he bellowed, towering over her.

Dumbledore rose from his seat as the girl cowered in her seat. "Severus, sit down."

Snape let out a huff as he dropped back into his chair. "You will explain yourself, Granger."

"She will do no such thing," Minerva stated, "unless you stop glaring at her like that."

"Pardon the interruption," the Headmaster said softly, "but I think it prudent to mention that we will have company rather shortly."

The three of them glanced at him in surprise and then at the office door when it burst open to reveal two slightly out-of-breath Gryffindors. At the sight of the Potions Master, they both briefly paled before reddening with anger.

"You!" they cried in unison.

Snape glared at the two boys. "Could someone please explain to me how I could have possibly been stuffing the Head Girl without her two feeble-minded henchmen catching wind of it? Or am I just to assume that they were fully aware of the situation, seeing as they can't be separated for more than a handful of minutes?"

"You stupid ba—"

"Mr. Potter! He is still a teacher, and you will treat him as such!" McGonagall shouted, before spinning to face the dark-haired man. "One more word like that out of you, Severus, and I will do much worse than turn you into a ferret!"

When he rolled his eyes, she glanced back at the recently-arrived students. "I do believe that the two of you were instructed to go to class."

"We did, Professor," Harry answered, still glaring at Snape. "But since you weren't there, everyone else just copied down the assignment, and then started in on us about that stupid article. Malfoy started reading it aloud, and when we heard it was Snape –"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione corrected. When everyone but Dumbledore looked at her in surprise, she shrugged and tossed the cold compress onto the couch. "It's not like it's his fault."

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked, ducking around the Deputy Headmistress. When she only glared at him in response, he narrowed his eyes. "Don't get mad at me – I'm the one who told you not to mess with that cow in the first place. If you had listened to me, this wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, thank you, Ronald," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Because I couldn't possibly have figured that out yet."

"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling sheepish.

Dumbledore took note of the angered look on the girl's face and gestured to his second-in-command. "Minerva, perhaps it might be best if you return to your classes. It is enough that we'll have to cancel Potions today."

The witch nodded and started instructing the boys to leave as well, while Snape tightened his gaze on the Headmaster. "You're cancelling my classes?"

"I think that might be wise, Severus, don't you?"

The younger professor kept his face neutral, but tensed his hands into fists. "For how long, exactly?"

The Headmaster sighed. "Let us table that discussion for now."

Hermione flicked her gaze between the two men and felt a small surge of rage beginning to boil inside of her. She could read between the lines just as well as Professor Snape could. It was unfair that such a pack of lies could result in his duties being suspended – for any amount of time.

"UGH! I should have squashed that stupid bug when I had the chance!" she hissed. "I should have just sent the cow to Azkaban and been done with it!"

It was not until she heard the horrified gasps of her two best friends that she realized she had said it out loud. Panicked, she noticed that all three staff members were staring at her in shock. McGonagall had frozen with her hand on the door knob, Snape had tilted his head and was looking at her with wide eyes, and even Dumbledore had his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

Surprisingly, Snape was the one who recovered first. He narrowed his eyes into an accusatory glare and crossed his arms. "Miss Granger, I suggest you get to that explanation immediately."

The girl sighed and gave a brief guilty look towards her Head of House and then dropped her gaze into her lap. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and launched into a detailed explanation of all of her dealings with Rita Skeeter. When she had finished, she flushed with shame at their continued silence.

"Well," Minerva cleared her throat and pulled open the door. "We'll be on our way, then."

Ron and Harry flashed their friend matching looks of sympathy as they were quickly ushered out of the office. As the door clicked shut, Hermione winced at the disappointed expression that had been on her favorite instructor's face.

"That is quite the tale, Miss Granger," Dumbledore stated, watching her with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

Severus blinked a number of times as he studied the girl. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he was impressed by the ferocity in which she had gone after the so-called newswoman. Her attempts at blackmail had obviously failed in the end, but the girl had balls – that much was for certain. He momentarily forgot his irritation upon discovering that the Gryffindor "darling" had some Slytherin in her after all.

And quite frequently if the article was to be believed.

Straightening in his seat, he unfolded his arms and gracefully crossed one leg over the other. "I assume from the little exposé in today's paper that Ms. Skeeter has finally registered herself as an animagus."

The girl exhaled deeply, surprised by the lack of ire in his voice, and collapsed against the back of the couch. "I would assume so, yes. I am really sorry, Professor. I never expected she'd go this far, and I never thought she'd go after you."

Snape let out a huff of air, looking away from her hastily. He was rather unsettled by the fact he could not find any further anger towards her. "It's not the first time I've been under investigation, nor will it be the last."

"Investigation?" she squeaked.

"You didn't seriously think the Board of Governors, or the Ministry for that matter, would let a charge like this be made without launching an inquiry, did you?"

Hermione frowned at the look he gave her and then scratched her head. "Well, shouldn't that be easy in this case? I mean, it's not like there's any truth to it. Couldn't we just submit to questioning under Veritaserum or something? You probably didn't even vote for me to be Head Girl, so there should be a record of that, right?"

"Actually, Miss Granger," Dumbledore entered into the conversation. "You might be surprised to find that the record reflects quite the opposite."

"What?" she whispered, quickly glancing back at the younger professor. "But you don't even like me!"

The man opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the Headmaster.

"Now I'm sure that's not true, my dear. Severus has always had a great admiration for intelligent witches – even those in Gryffindor."

The girl raised her eyebrows at his use of the word 'witches' instead of 'students,' and felt even more confused by the murderous glare that the Potions Master was sending his employer.

"Albus," he hissed.

"Calm down, Severus," the elder wizard chuckled. "I'm merely assuring Miss Granger that you do not, in fact, dislike her as she is so inclined to believe."

Snape's nostrils flared, but he reigned in the rest of his temper. "Fine. While I have no great fondness for you, Miss Granger, I do recognize that you possess intelligence and ability. That was why I submitted your name for nomination."

"You've never recognized it before," she muttered, before finally comprehending what he had said. "Wait! You submitted my name?"

"Heads of House are not allowed to nominate students from within their own House," he shrugged.

"But you picked me?" she stammered in disbelief.

The wizard frowned and shifted in his seat. "Don't let it go to your already overlarge head, Granger. I only suggested you because there were no suitable candidates in either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"It was you and not Professors Flitwick or Sprout?"

"I'm beginning to rethink my declaration about your intelligence," he grunted, rolling his eyes. "I spat out your name before either of them had the chance to, so that I could watch them flounder about trying to find another student to add to the ballot."

"Now that I can believe," she sighed, dropping her head back against the couch. "Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad!"

"Unfortunately, Veritaserum is out of the question," Dumbledore added. "Though Severus is immune to it, we cannot risk you revealing anything privileged."

"I don't know anything privileged," she mumbled, glancing at him in surprise. "Do I?"

"Nevertheless," the Headmaster continued. "Veritaserum is not considered definitive in a Ministry investigation."

Hermione blew out a frustrated breath. "Then what do we do?"

"We wait."

"We wait?" She sat upright and leaned against the arm of the sofa as she stared at him. "What do you mean, we wait?"

Snape snorted. "I suddenly regret my nomination."

"Yeah, well…that makes two of us!" she shouted, spinning to face him. Her face paled at the realization she was yelling at him, and the girl quickly sank back into the couch in shame. After a few moments of silence, she sighed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "Well… do I have to wait here or can I hide somewhere else? I assume I'm suspended from classes?"

"I think it would be most unwise – if only for your own well-being – for you to return to your normal schedule," Dumbledore agreed. He glanced towards his younger colleague and raised his brow in silent question. "As to where you will spend your day –"

Severus sighed and shook his head.

"—you will regrettably have to remain here," the elder man finished, returning his gaze to her.

Hermione groaned and pulled her feet up onto the couch. Not two hours ago, she was noting how pleasant the day appeared to be. One vindictive news report later, and she was practically imprisoned in a room with Professor Snape. Her head was beginning to pound again, and the only thing the Headmaster had decided to do about the situation was to wait. She wanted to ask what they were waiting for, but she doubted either of the men would honestly respond to her query.

Wincing as her fingers found a snarl in her hair; she took in a deep breath and glanced around for her book bag. With a sinking feeling, she remembered Harry setting it down in the Hospital Wing, but neither she nor Professor McGonagall had remembered to grab it.

Trapped in a room with nothing to do. She sighed and chewed on her lip nervously. The girl only lasted a few minutes before curiosity and boredom overwhelmed her. "So Heads of House can't nominate students from their own House?"

When Dumbledore made no response save to stare at his subordinate with an amused glint in his eye, Severus rolled his eyes and grunted an affirmative. A few seconds passed before he spoke again. "There's a reason why there hasn't been a Head Boy or Girl from Slytherin since before the First Wizarding War."

"Really?" she asked, her eyebrows rising. "That seems exceptionally unfair."

"How very un-Gryffindor of you," he sneered.

Hermione frowned and folded her arms against her chest. "Just because I'm in Gryffindor doesn't mean I think all Slytherins are horrible people."

"Indeed," he quipped. "I believe Ms. Skeeter brought that fact to light in her latest literary accomplishment."

The girl blushed a deep shade of crimson and entered into a rather pointed silence that spanned several minutes. Eventually, when her cheeks had cooled to their normal color and temperature, she began pondering the rest of that morning's conversation.

"So, you're actually immune to Veritaserum, Professor?"

Snape groaned and flicked his gaze to the Headmaster. "Don't you have a book she can read?"


Many hours later, Severus yawned and worked out a crick in his neck. He glanced briefly at the large golden clock on the wall and decided it would not be much longer. Darkness had already descended, and the Dark Lord could summon him at any time.

Blowing out a long breath, he calmly collected his thoughts and vanquished any concerns he had about confronting the Death Eaters. There was no large cover story he had to pass off this time. For once, he was able to tell the Dark Lord the truth.

A soft whimpering sound caught his attention, and he suddenly glanced over towards the hideous plaid sofa. The girl had fallen asleep not long after she had finished her supper, and was currently sprawled rather inelegantly across the length of the couch. The book she had finally picked from the Headmaster's shelves was still propped open beneath one of her hands, and was teetering dangerously on the edge of the cushion. One hearty stomp of his foot, and the tome would undoubtedly crash to the floor.

The rest of their day had passed relatively quietly, benefited greatly by the anti-Howler charm that Albus had cast upon the room. He highly doubted, however, that the peace would last much longer. They could not hide out in the Headmaster's office for the rest of their lives. Eventually, they would have to face the throngs of angry villagers with their pitchforks and torches.

Snape had inhaled deeply and was just about to close his eyes for a moment's rest when he felt the familiar burn flare across his left forearm. Sighing, he stood from his chair and crossed over to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder. He was preparing to floo into his personal quarters to grab his robes and then exit from the secret door on the side of the castle, when Granger startled awake, dropping her book in the process.

"Professor?" she asked sleepily.

He cleared his throat and gave her a pointed stare. "Do not leave this room."

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but she nodded in return. At seeing the gesture, Severus tossed in the floo powder, announced his destination, and disappeared in a swirl of green flames.