Trading Places

TITLE: Trading Spaces 19?

RATING: R (slash warning m/m)

PAIRING: HG/SS, HP/DM, HP/HG (friendship)

A/N: We’re back! You can’t keep a bad snake down, right? Oh, and we should warn you, character death ahead, sorry.

SUMMARY: What do you call a cross between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin? A prefect! Don't worry, it's not "what would happen if he had been sorted into . . ." Dumbledore works in mysterious ways as Voldemort grows in power and daring. Other than that? Shippyness, Snogging, Shagging, Snippy and Snarky! Trust me, it'll all make sense in a little while.

GRATUITIES: Thanks to all of you who are still reading this story, and welcome to any of you who have found it for the first time. Personal responses to reviews will continue in the next chapter. sniff We missed you guys.

And a special thank you to our betas – you guys are the best! I have my final decision narrowed down to three, and I just might keep all of you, it was great to get so many perspectives.

So, here goes . . . hope it’s worth the wait.

Harry paced back and forth in his room, impatiently awaiting Draco’s return. He was awash in a sea of confusion. There were only two conclusions he could draw about Draco’s unlikely summons to the Headmaster’s office. Either Draco was in trouble, or Dumbledore was asking for his help. Harry sort of hoped that Draco was in trouble. The former Gryffindor sighed. He was jealous. There was no way around it, no noble justification. Well, Draco had always brought out Harry’s baser instincts. Harry smirked as he recalled some of those instances. From fighting to snogging, at least Harry was never bored around Draco. He heard the door open behind him. “Draco?”

“No, Harry it is I – the Blackest Magic – “

“Ever,” Harry sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“Griff-gruff informed me that all of the evil mascots were running amuck through the castle. I was just trying to oblige when I saw the light on in your room,” the book announced with glee. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with you, Harry.”

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you have to say is really, er- evil and everything, but I’m kind of busy right now . . . “

“Were you studying?” The book looked around, Dumbledore wouldn’t like it if he interrupted study time. Harry’s bed was slightly rumpled, but other than that, the room was fairly neat. There weren’t any books, parchment or quills out.

Harry blushed. “Not exactly.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“I was just – er, that is, I – “ Harry sputtered. “I’m sort of waiting for someone.”

“Really? At this hour?” The book looked at him appraisingly. “Is it a . . .” he lowered his voice, “Girl?”

“A girl?” Harry scoffed. Then he rethought the matter. “Why yes. Yes, I’m waiting on a girl, so if you’d just shove off now . . .”

“Do not worry, Harry. This won’t take long.” The book hopped up on his desk and began to pace back and forth.

“I just wanted you to know that I am evil, Harry.”

“Oh, well . . . point taken, see you later!”

“Very evil. I am so evil that I have turned Rune to the dark side. That’s a little FYI, for you Harry. Rune – she’s evil. I corrupted her.” The book nodded sagely. “But that is not my point.”

“You have one?” Harry sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“Harry, Harry, Harry . . .”The book paused. “I want you to know that I like you. You’re not evil, and you usually spoil my evil plots. But I like you. So I have decided to do you a favor.”

“Oh. That’s really . . . unnecessary.” Harry protested.

“Do not worry. My favor has an evil subtext.”

“Of course.”

“I have decided to take out one of my rival evil-doers, as we arch-villains sometimes do.” At Harry’s confused look, the book added, “We’re evil, Harry. You wouldn’t understand our ways.”

“And who exactly is this rival of yours?” Harry sighed again.

“I can’t quite remember his name. Lord Moldy Vort? No, that’s not it. Oldiemort?” The book shrugged. “Something like that. But apparently, he’s really, really evil. I keep hearing about him, so he’s getting more publicity than me, and that’s just unacceptable.”

“I see.” Harry’s lips twitched. “So you’re going to kill Lord Voldemort?”

“Voldemort! That’s it.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

“That’s easy. I have this spell to take out dark Lords.” The book looked imperiously back at Harry. “You know the one.”

“I do?”

“The snakes didn’t tell you?” Sheldon appeared shocked. “Page 117?”

Harry shook his head.

“In any case, I heard that Voldewart is trying to kill you.” Sheldon informed him. “As I have intended to kill him all along for being more infamous than me, I have decided to kill him before he kills you, even though you’re not evil!”

“Thanks, I guess,” Harry smiled, amused. “Well, if that’s all . . .”

“I could stay here and keep you company until your girl gets here, if you like,” the book offered kindly. “In case you’re afraid or something. Seeing as how you have been newly informed of a death threat against you.”

“I think I’ll be ok.” Harry walked over to the door and held it open.

“Well, alright.” The book walked through the door. “Just remember, if you’re afraid, page 117, ok, Harry?”

“Ok.” Harry slammed the door shut, leaning against it.

“You’re welcome!” The book shouted through the door.

Draco quietly let himself into Harry’s room. “Hero?”

The room was silent. Harry lay curled on his side on the bed, naked except for a pair of pajama pants with serpents on them. His attention fixed on Draco with a new focus.

“Well,” Draco smiled, “That’s one way to get into my pants, Hero.”

Harry’s eyes smoldered. He made a gesture with his left hand and the door flew shut and locked. The little flare of magic sent shivers through the both of them. “Come here, Draco.”

Draco quirked his eyebrow and slowly approached the bed. He wasn’t the sort to take kindly to being given directives, but the darkness and hunger swirling in Harry’s emerald eyes was more than compelling. Draco lowered himself onto the mattress and crawled towards Harry, his motions sinuous and languid. “Something you wanted, Hero?”

“For as long as I can remember,” Harry whispered. Draco pushed him flat against the bed, settling his torso half on Harry’s chest. He rested his forearms on either side of Harry’s head. Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

Slowly, Draco lowered his head and brushed his lips over Harry’s, then retreated just a breath away before repeating the motion again. Harry groaned, reaching up to bury his hands in Draco’s silken blond locks and pull him down for a deeper kiss. As if he had unleashed some primal force in Draco, the Slytherin responded with abandon. Suddenly, his body was covering Harry’s, his weight deliciously pinning him down, his tongue wildly invading Harry’s mouth. Harry was wrapped in Draco’s scent, engulfed in a passion that held no tenderness, just bright need.

In the air, there was a faint buzzing, similar to the hum of electricity in a Muggle home. Harry’s mind idly noticed the noise and then dismissed it, caught up in the sheer heat of Draco’s kisses. His hands were braced on Harry’s bare chest as he trailed his lips down Harry’s neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin behind the brunette’s ear. Draco straddled Harry’s lap and softly bit into the tender flesh there, enjoying the feel of Harry shivering beneath him. Harry’s finger slid down to the buttons on Draco’s shirt, desperate to feel the other boy’s naked skin. Leaning back, the blonde rested his weight on his knees, arching his back and sliding his arms impatiently out of the shirt, balling it up and tossing it over his head. Harry reached for the button and zipper on Draco’s trousers, unfastening them and eagerly shoving them down Draco’s hips. Leaning forward once more, Draco braced his weight on his hands this time, lifting his lower body to allow Harry to slide the offending clothing off. He was not wearing underwear.

Harry met Draco’s eyes. The blond was now poised above him, beautifully naked. Harry exhaled heavily, and Draco smirked, “Your turn, Hero.”

Draco slid down Harry’s body, trailing his lips down Harry’s chest. His fingers caught the waistband of the brunette’s pants, and pressing his mouth to Harry’s navel, he paused teasingly before tugging them off the rest of the way, leaving Harry’s body bare for his viewing pleasure.

“Draco,” Harry gasped, a sound of pleasure and anticipation. Draco’s elegant fingers slowly stroked his skin, first teasing his rippling abs, then gently scraping across his hip bones, making Harry’s body jerk. Harry met his eyes once more. “Still think you’re man enough to handle me?”

“I do,” Draco purred, before setting about to prove it. His hands wrapped around Harry’s erection firmly, stroking it in a sweet caress that made Harry tremble. “I’m man enough to make you scream, Hero.”

“Same back at you, Malfoy,” Harry grinned. He grabbed Malfoy by the column of his throat, pulling him roughly up his body. His lips met Draco’s with bruising force, his motions becoming frantic, as he sought to replicate Draco’s motions with his own hand on Draco’s body.

“H-h-Harry,” Draco breathed, feeling his muscles tense, pleasure building low in his stomach. “Oh, don’t stop, Hero.”

“Never.” Their desperate pants came in sync as their bodies writhed against each other. Harry fisted his free hand in Draco’s hair, pulling the boy’s face close to his own, letting their foreheads touch. The gesture stirred something tender in Draco. Somehow, it made everything seem more intimate. Draco knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and looking in Harry’s eyes, intensified the sensations coursing through him. He leaned up and kissed Harry again, emotion pouring through him.

In the next moment, they exploded against each other, shuddering and shaking with the force of their climax. As they did, a rolling boom rocked the entire castle, and every light in Hogwarts that was still on shattered and went dark.

“What was that?” Harry panted. “Death Eaters?”

“No, luv,” Draco smirked, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him close. “That was us.”

“So, how is everyone this morning?” Ron glanced nervously between Harry, Hermione and Draco. The unlikely group sat at the Slytherin table once more this morning, pretending not to notice that all of Hogwarts was watching, holding their breath for what would happen next. When the other students weren’t openly staring at them, they were whispering about the weird power surge that had happened late the night before. Ron held his breath, hoping for negative responses to his next earnest question. “Anyone feel like having sex on the breakfast table?”

“No, not today,” Snippy hissed, sliding around Ron’s plate and helping himself to a piece of his bacon.

“But thanksssss for asking,” Snarky added, joining his compatriot in enjoying Ron’s breakfast.

Draco almost rolled his eyes, but decided at the last moment that it was too provincial of a gesture for him. He met Harry’s gaze, silver eyes molten with heat and the memories of their last encounter. “What about you, Hero? Up for an early morning shag?”

“You could try not to hit on my best friend while I’m sitting right here,” Hermione pointed out. “Pass the jam, please.”

Harry smiled devilishly, thinking that if he was up for an early morning shag, they wouldn’t be down here having breakfast already. Draco raised a brow, a smirk spreading across his handsome face. Harry shrugged. “I’m out. Snape doesn’t seem in the mood.”

“Didn’t know you felt that way about Snape,” Draco drawled playfully.

“Ewwww . . . . Sssssnape,” the snakes chorused.

“You could try not to hit on my . . . professor, while I’m sitting right here,” Hermione grinned, stealing a glance at the man in question. He was staring at her. She winked at him, and he hastily looked away. “Pass the pumpkin juice.”

Ron visibly relaxed. It seemed that nobody would be having intercourse on his table, and he was free to wrestle his breakfast away from the snakes in peace. Later, he was going to need to have a long talk with both Harry and Hermione about what was going on. He understood that sometimes it was hard to keep everyone in the loop. But enough was enough. It was time he was brought inside the secret circle. Ron blanched. He hoped that didn’t include having sex with Malfoy.

“Professor, is that what they’re calling it these days?” Draco asked lazily. He absently stroked a lock of Hermione’s hair as he refilled her cup for her, dutifully playing his role.

“And what do you call it?” Snarky hissed, disdainfully.

“I’m guessing – ‘hey, you, wanna shag?’” Snippy laughed.

“Shut up!” Draco hissed in parseltongue. Three second-years from Hufflepuff swooned.

“Yeah, that always works. Now say, ‘pretty please,’” Snippy smirked.

Draco, rather impressed with his new power of sex appeal, turned to a group of fourth years at the Ravenclaw table, somehow managing to purr as he hissed, “Pretty please.”

They all sighed, leaning their chins on their hands and blushing prettily, except for one who stared back hungrily and licked her lips.

“I think you slept with that one,” Hermione surmised.

“Nonsense, she’s fourteen,” Draco protested huffily.

“Yeah – he slept with her older sister,” Snarky nodded, creeping towards Harry’s plate.

“Twice,” Snippy added helpfully, before carefully following his companion.

“Twice?” Draco furrowed his brow, thinking back. “I thought they were twins.”

“Didn’t it throw you off that the name was the same?” Harry questioned, amused.

“Name?” Draco said blankly.

“Oh, never mind.” Harry sighed, digging into his breakfast at last only to find the plate empty. He glared accusingly at the snakes.

“What?” Snippy demanded, daintily wiping some crumbs off his mouth with the tip of his tail.

Harry shook his head and began reloading his plate.

“Ah – Harry? I’d avoid the bacon – not nearly crispy enough,” Snarky advised.

Harry piled the bacon on his plate. “As long as that means you won’t eat it.”

“Oh, you’re fine. We’re eating Draco’s food now,” Snippy assured him.

“Hey!” Draco grabbed his fork and set about defending his toast.

Harry looked down to see Snarky devouring his bacon. He raised a brow at the tiny snake.

“That’s punishment,” Snarky mumbled, his mouth ballooned around a ball of bacon the size of his head. “For not taking my advice.”

Harry snatched a piece off the edge of the plate, idly wondering when he had become comfortable eating off of dishes with snakes on them. It was probably a survival measure so he didn’t starve to death. “You’re evil.”

“Ssssanks,” Snarky beamed.

“Don’t you feel bad for stealing his bacon, now?” Snippy asked, jealous that Harry had yet to call him evil today.

“No.” Snarky shrugged, his mouth still full. “You know, this bacon’s not all that bad. Maybe I was hasty in my judgment.”

“Evil? Bad? Somebody looking for me?” Sheldon leapt onto Harry’s plate, splattering bacon across the table.

Ron, Harry, Hermione and Draco silently and quickly stood up and left the Great Hall. Snarky threw a piece of bacon at the book, smacking Lockhart’s picture in the face.

Severus Snape glared at his seventh year potions class, dispensing with formalities. “If you can tear yourselves away from your meaningless conversations and focus on something that matters, we will be brewing a tracking potion today. Who can tell me what this potion is used for?”

Hermione instantly raised her hand. Snape regarded her dispassionately, but she noticed hidden warmth in his eyes, imperceptible to the rest of the class. He called on Draco.

“It is used when people have lost their way, or are missing. Particularly useful when planning long trips unfamiliar areas. Any wizard who drinks the potion will give off a magical signature that will help certain wizards find them,” Draco rattled off the information casually.

“And how does one determine which wizards can read the signal?” Snape prodded. A hand went up and Snape rolled his eyes. “Mr. Potter, you should have used the facilities before you got to class. If you need to use the hall pass, this is not – “

“Sir?” Harry’s brows knitted. “Like in the polyjuice potion, a unique ingredient must be added. In this case, something from the point of origin where the wizard who is lost wishes to return is added at the highest boiling point. Anyone who begins searching for the wizard from that origin point can read the signature. Or to strengthen the connection, the searching wizard can drink from the same batch of potion and be the only one who can clearly read the signal.”

The class was taken aback. How had Harry figured that out? How had he gotten so good at potions? Snape’s scowl darkened. “An adequate answer, Potter. I see you actually used your potions book for something more than a doorstop. Ten points,” he almost smiled as he added, “To Slytherin.”

Draco stared at Harry. His little speech had echoed Draco’s thoughts on the matter down to the exact phrasing.

“Pair up and begin!” Snape ordered. “Potter – work with Mr. Malfoy. I expect complete potions by the end of class.”

The class buzzed as they set about gathering ingredients, cauldrons and partners. Harry settled himself next to Draco.

“That was impressive, Hero.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement.

“Still,” the blond continued. “I happen to know you have spent no time studying – least of all for potions.”

“Not last night,” Harry smirked.

Draco’s eyes darkened. “Not this night either, if I have my way.”

Meanwhile, across the room, Hermione waited until everyone had left the ingredients closet, to gather the items she and Neville would need. Snape watched her casually stroll into the small, secluded room, while Neville nervously busied himself with checking and rechecking the instructions. Snape wavered, wanting to follow her on pure instinct, responding to the brief teasing glance she had shot over her shoulder, but the better angels of his nature warned him that it was too blatant, too close to their school personas, too disrespectful, too risky – too delicious to pass up.

As Snape entered the closet, Hermione was perched precariously on a stool, reaching for something on a high shelf. The position caused her skirt to rise a scandalous distance up her thighs. “Miss Granger – do come down from there before you break something.”

“And if I do?” She smiled as she climbed down to face him. Her heart was racing as she clung tightly to her bravery. This was yet another of Troy’s plans. Troy had given her seduction plans aplenty, rattling them off left and right. She had dutifully written them down and labeled them with letters. Malfoy Sr. had ruined the last one, but she still counted it as a success because Severus had responded, as he was doing once again. “What are you going to do about it?”

Severus’ mouth went dry. Hermione stood in front of him, one hand trailing casually across the shelf beside her, the other playfully twirling a lock of her hair. She smiled up at him, softly biting into her lower lip, the picture of innocence with mischief twinkling in her eyes. He narrowed his eyes. She was playing a dangerous game, tempting a man like him, despite what he had told Dumbledore the night before. He decided to call her bluff, and try to scare her into backing off a bit.

“I’ll take you back to my rooms and teach you to heed what I say,” he whispered softly, his voice like velvet honey, regarding her with a predatory gaze she hadn’t seen him use out of the seclusion of the Death Eater’s circle. Hermione swallowed, feeling her stomach drop and slowly begin to fill with liquid heat. Holding her breath, she looked him in the eye, reached out with her left hand and purposefully knocked a jar of beetle eyes off a nearby shelf, not even flinching as they shattered.

One moment Hermione was looking into his eyes, the next she was pressed tightly to his chest, his mouth claiming hers with bruising force. She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with abandon.

“Ahem,” Draco coughed loudly as he entered the closet, studiously looking at a shelf of potions. “Way to be stealthy.”

“Get what you came for and go, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape demanded coldly, suddenly flustered at having been caught. Again.

Draco smirked as he strutted out of the room, carrying the ingredient that he and Harry had been missing.

“Oops,” Hermione whispered, blushing prettily. “We need a cover now.”

“Yes,” Severus answered, taking in her flushed and slightly disheveled appearance.

“Yell at me,” she said softly.

“It was hardly your fault! I am the – “

“Oh, stuff it,” She stopped him. “I meant for the cover. Yell at me.”

“For what,” He marveled at her new confidence, not mincing words with him at all.

Hermione smirked, “I broke something. Remember?”

Severus had the image of her provocative look as she had knocked the jar over etched in his mind. “Yes.”

By the end of class, Hermione was frantically trying to finish the potion. Neville had just about given up, and like the rest of the class, was now focused on watching Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy work on their potion. The two of them worked in tandem with a rhythm that was down right unholy. Preparing ingredients, stirring, adjusting the flames, they worked without communicating about the potion at all. Instead, they traded insults rapidly, as they usually did when forced to work together. Ostensibly, this was meant to conceal their new connection from the rest of the class, but the tactic was failing horribly. Their insults had lost their cutting edge, and seemed almost rehearsed in their swift glibness. Combined with their apparent ease in creating a complex potion perfectly, with nary a word about who was to do what, it was obvious that something strange was going on.

“Neville, hand me that bottle!” Hermione commanded.

Neville jumped about two feet, but quickly complied. “It’s ok, Hermione. Calm down a little.”

“CALM DOWN!” Hermione heard the shrillness in her voice and forced herself to take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Neville, it’s just – with the way class started today, I really wanted to do well on this potion.”

“It’s ok, I understand. He yells at me all the time,” Neville remarked sadly.

Hermione took a moment to pat Neville on the shoulder before she turned once again to her potion. It looked like she had done it correctly, though she wasn’t sure it was exactly the right color. Normally, she would have been certain it was the best potion in the class, no matter what shade it was. However, today it was very clear to everyone whose potion would be best. She sighed. Beaten by her best friend and a Malfoy. It just wasn’t fair.

Snape began to walk around the potions classroom, inspecting cauldrons. He passed over Hermione and Neville’s with a murmured, “Not that bad.”

The class seemed to hold their breath as he approached Harry and Draco. He stared into their cauldron for a moment. “Well, Potter, looks like Mr. Malfoy has managed to save your grade once again. This potion is perfect.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Please bottle a sample of your potion and leave it on my desk for grading. Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger, you will please remain after class for a few moments.”

The potions class quickly bottled their assignments and left, certain that the three prefects asked to stay behind were in some kind of trouble. After everyone had filed out, Draco closed and locked the door behind them.

Snape produced three cups and set them on Harry and Draco’s table. He quickly filled them with the still steaming potion and cast a cooling charm. “Drink up.”

“How did I know that you were having us brew this for a reason?” Hermione sighed, hoping that this would taste better than the polyjuice potion.

“Well, figuring that out wouldn’t exactly take a rocket scientist, now would it, Hiney?” Snarky slipped under the door and into the potions classroom, Snippy right behind him.

Draco chuckled, and then grimaced as he downed his potion. “Yech!”

Harry quickly followed suit, also frowning at the bitter taste. Hermione held onto her glass, but could not quite force herself to drink it yet.

“The rest of the potion will be distributed to the Gryffindor House tonight,” Snape informed them.

“Ooooh! We could help! We ran out of good breath potion to play paint potion with!” Snippy exclaimed. “But we’ll have to redo the point system if we’re restricted to Gryffindor House. They don’t run very well.”

“I sssay – fifty points for Griff-gruff . . . “ Snarky mused.

“I’ll be adding it to their pumpkin juice at dinner,” Snape continued.

The snakes flipped him off with their tails. There went their entertainment for the evening.

“Draco, try to make sure everyone – particularly the muggleborns and younger girls drink pumpkin juice. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to have dinner with your . . . girlfriend, tonight.” Severus smiled triumphantly.

“Sir? Is there a reason this has to be done tonight? The potion’s only good for about three days, so – “ Draco objected.

“Yes. I spoke with your father last night, Draco.” Snape paused.

“Uh-oh, Snippy, that’s his ‘I’m deadly serious’ face!” Snarky noted.

“It looks a lot like his ‘I’m cranky’ face,” Snippy pointed out. “Also, his ‘I’m sleepy’ face. And it’s fairly close to his, ‘I’m bored’ face.”

“For that matter, it looks like his ‘I’m happy’ face.” Snarky added.

“Shut up, Snakes!” Harry demanded. Draco looked over at him with a decidedly hungry look.

“There is going to be an attack on Hogwarts tonight. If they get through, it will begin in Gryffindor Tower. They’re going to try to kidnap muggle borns, and who knows what will happen to the rest of the students. This is only one of many precautions we will be taking.” Snape reached out and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder, and one on Hermione’s. “Please be careful tonight.”

Draco and Hermione nodded somberly. The snakes were upset. Snippy huffed, “What about Harry? Shouldn’t he be careful?”

“For that matter, what about ussss?” Snippy exclaimed.

“Yeah, like we’re gonna be anywhere near the line of fire!” Snarky pointed out. “Ha!”

“Good point,” Snippy nodded. He turned to Harry. “We’ll be hiding out in Hufflepuff with some popcorn – so please stop by after and let us know if you made it!”

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy – you may go now,” Snape sighed. He couldn’t understand the snakes, but he was beginning to recognize when they were being particularly obnoxious. “And take those two with you!”

“Those two? Those two!” Snarky huffed.

“Like you’re too good to address us by name!” Snippy sniffed.

“Think we should bite him?” Snarky turned a calculating eye on the potions master.

“Or we could bring back the breath of death . . .” Snippy mused.

“NO!” Harry and Draco shouted in unison. Quickly they each scooped up a snake and hurried out of the classroom.

Hermione sauntered over to Snape’s desk, and hopped up on it. “So, Severus,” She smiled. “Alone at last.”

“You will please drink your potion, now,” Snape said gently, lifting her cup and carrying it to her.

Hermione accepted the cup and promptly put it aside. “Later.”

“Now,” He frowned. “Hermione . . . “

“I love the way you say my name,” she whispered, honestly. “Kiss me, Severus.”

“I can’t right now,” he protested. “Please drink your potion. You’re going to be late for your next class.”

“I have a free period,” Hermione smiled. “And so do you.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” He began. “At least I hope I do – but -- ”

“But what? Lucius isn’t here. The door is locked,” She raised her wand and locked the door. “What’s to stop us?”

“Hermione, I just don’t feel that this is an appropriate place to engage in -- that sort of activity. So, if you can just drink that potion . . . “

“Like I give a bloody damn about the sodding potion –“

Snape leaned down and covered her mouth with his own in a breath-stealing kiss. She softened in his arms, melting into his embrace. “When did you start using language like that?”

“About the time you started frustrating me,” she pouted.

“I give a bloody damn about the sodding potion,” Snape added in a sterner tone. “It would probably amuse Lucius to no end to kidnap you tonight, just to spite me. And if he does, I will come for you, I will kill him, and I’d like a good idea of where to aim.”

“Severus,” she whispered. Nodding slightly, she downed the potion in one swallow, her face already screwed up in anticipation of the bitter taste. “Dear Lord, that’s -- not that bad.” She turned to him confused.

“I sweetened yours,” he confessed.

“Thank you,” she answered primly, smirking inwardly as she remembered Draco’s face when he swallowed the potion.

“Hermione, my feelings for you are complicated. I think it’s evident that I’m interested in pursuing a higher level of involvement with you.”

“Wow, that was sexy.”

Severus glared at her. “Comments like that make me want to rethink what I just said.”

“But you won’t.”

His shoulders fell. “No, I won’t. But now is not the appropriate time or place.”

“Yeah, I bet the desk would hurt my back.”

“Hermione, some decorum, please.”

“I understand.” She stood up. “I guess I should go, unless you want to discuss our higher level of involvement. I bet you have flow charts or something.”

“You don’t have to go,” he said, feeling slightly disappointed that she had not remained adamant. “Why don’t we retire to my private office?”

“Is that where the flowcharts are?”

“No.” His lips twitched. “But there may be a graph.”

“All right,” She smiled. “What are we going to do there?”

“I think you’ll be particularly interested in the red shaded area.”

At dinner that night, Hermione and Harry decided to join Draco at the Gryffindor table. Ron was relieved to be away from the Slytherins, especially the snakes. Maybe he would actually get to eat his dinner tonight.

Harry reached for the jug of pumpkin juice, then paused. “I’m wondering, are there any weird side effects of this potion? Like, am I going to overdose if I drink anymore of it tonight?”

“You’re so good at potions, don’t you know, Harry?” Hermione huffed.

“Oh, bitter – party of one!” Snippy announced slinking onto the Gryffindor table.

“Oh no!” Ron exclaimed. “What are they doing here?”

“Why does everyone keep referring to us as ‘they’ and ‘those two’? It’s really very rude. We are actually separate snakes, y’know,” Snippy commented.

“Do you ever go anywhere apart?” Draco asked.

“No.” Snarky stared at him.

“What’s your point?” Snippy asked. Draco just sighed.

“No one’s answered me yet – can I drink this or not?” Harry indicated the pitcher of pumpkin juice once again.

“Yeah – should be fine,” Draco waved his hand. Harry started to pour some in his cup. “Or course, I’m not risking it.”

Harry poured the liquid back into the pitcher, sighing dejectedly. “Death eaters ruin everything. Even my beverages.”

“Speaking of – I need to make sure that all the young girls drink plenty of potion – er, pumpkin juice.” Draco furrowed his brow. Taking a quick survey of the table, he was pleased to find that most of the Gryffindors were drinking pumpkin juice already. He looked at one-second year girl who was not. “Hey – you! Have some pumpkin juice!”

She looked back at him with an expression that told him to piss off and returned to her glass of water.

“Well, that wassss effective,” Snippy laughed.

“Why don’t you offer to snog whoever can drink the mosssst?” Snarky suggested.

“You think there are people Draco hasn’t snogged?” Harry snorted.

“Does he do this hissing thing often?” Ron asked. “Because it’s kind of disturbing. Does anyone else find all the snake talk disturbing?”

“No.” Snarky glared at the redhead.

“Hey!” Draco protested. “There’s plenty of first years that I haven’t – “

“Gotten to yet?” Snippy supplied. “Don’t worry, there’s still time.”

“Hey! You there!” Draco pointed at a Gryffindor headed for his seat.

“Wow, check out his work ethic,” Snarky commented. “He gets right on that stuff.”

Draco shot a quelling glance at the snake, before addressing the boy again, “Drink some pumpkin juice when you sit down.”

The kid smiled and nodded his head, then turned, rolled his eyes and reached for a cup of tea.

“Am I missing something? Why are we trying to get the table to drink pumpkin juice?” Ron questioned.

“Death eater protection,” Hermione answered. “Don’t ask.”

Snippy and Snarky dived into the nearest pitcher of pumpkin juice.

“Ugh! What are you two doing in there?” Harry shook his head, quickly pulling them out.

“Yeah, Snake butts in the beverage are not going to help our cause,” Draco added.

“We want to make sure that you can find us, should we possibly get into trouble tonight.” Snippy explained.

Ron stared into his cup of pumpkin juice. “What’s in it?”

“Potion,” Hermione answered dismissively.

“What’s in the potion?” Ron persisted, remembering many of the less appetizing ingredients he had used in previous potions classes.

“Again – don’t ask,” Hermione answered; Harry and Draco nodded their heads in agreement.

Ginny, spotting her brother, plopped down beside him at the table. “Hi Ron! Don’t ask what?”

“Wow . . . she follows direction well,” Snippy commented, eyeing the spread on the table as he tried to decide what to eat.

Draco decided to try again. “This is the BEST pumpkin juice I’ve ever had!” There was no response from the table. Draco sighed, “That would have worked in Slytherin.”

Ron poured Ginny a healthy portion of pumpkin juice. “Here you go.”

“What’s this?”

“Pumpkin juice!” Snarky answered. “She’s quick on the uptake, too.”

“Gin, Professor Snape put a protection potion in the pumpkin juice. It’s important that everyone in Gryffindor drinks some, but we don’t want to get everybody all worked up,” Harry explained. “Any bright ideas?”

“Let’s not bet the castle on that one,” Snippy snickered.

Ron pressed the cup into Ginny’s hands, staring at her until she took a sip.

“Yeah, that’s easy.” Ginny grinned. “Isn’t the Gryffindor/Slytherin match this weekend?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, not following.

Ginny stood up, held up her glass of pumpkin juice and addressed the rest of the table. “Attention! I propose a toast – to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Good luck this weekend!”

Everyone dutifully picked up a glass of pumpkin juice, and toasted, even the girl with the water.

“Alright, ingenious idea,” Draco conceded. “But what if they toasted with water?”

Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny stared at him as if he had just announced his plans to do the electric slide on the table. Ginny took pity on him. “It’s bad luck to toast with water.”

“Uh-huh. And everyone knows that but me?” Draco responded.

“Apparently,” Snippy mumbled around a mouthful of chicken.

“Griff-gruff told us,” Ginny offered. “And no one risks bad luck for the team.”

“Of course,” Draco sighed. There were consequences for upsetting Griff-gruff. Usually in the 1,200 count Egyptian silk sheets arena.

“You guys are going to need all the luck you can get, Potter,” sneered a new voice at the table. Marcus Flint stared imperiously down at the seated Gryffindors. “Draco’s going to wipe the floor with you on Sunday – isn’t that right, Draco?”

“It’s my current plan,” Draco smiled lazily.

“Too bad he’ll be winning the game for Gryffindor,” smirked Hermione.

“Oooh, she’s getting better at the witty comeback,” Snarky nodded in approval.

“Even a blind badger finds the right plant every now and then,” Snippy returned.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, Granger? Still sore about getting into trouble in Potions?” He cast her a disparaging once over. “Or is it that you’re not good enough in the sack for Snape to give you better grades than Draco anymore? Stupid mudblood.”

Draco wasn’t quite sure what happened next. One minute he was contemplating the Quidditch Game and what it would be like to fly against Slytherin. Then Marcus had to open his big stupid mouth. Hermione’s eyes filled with angry tears, he felt Harry tense beside him, and suddenly he was upset. Before Harry could get to his feet, Draco was on his. He punched Marcus right in the mouth and he went down like a sack of house elves.

“Bloody hell!” Marcus held a hand to his jaw.

“Ohhh . . . that’s not going to help that dental disfiguration issue of his,” commented Snippy.

“Let’s look on the bright side, it couldn’t have made it that much worse,” Snarky shrugged.

Marcus stood, a toothy snarl on his face. Snippy and Snarky backed up a foot or so.

“Damn!” Snippy exclaimed.

“Looks like I was mistaken.” Snarky shuddered.

“What is going on here!” Snape demanded, the first teacher to notice the disturbance. He had overheard the Flint boy’s comments and was not sorry that he had gone down. He was however surprised that it was his prize pupil and not Potter that had taken matters into his own hands.

“Forgive me, sir,” Draco smirked. He pulled Hermione close to his chest, like an adoring boyfriend. “But Marcus was making some inappropriate and ludicrous insinuations about you and my girlfriend. I lost my temper.”

“Detention, this evening in my office, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape snapped, his voice lacking true anger. “You, Mr. Flint will have detention with Mr. Filch for the next two weeks. Learn to respect your elders.”

“Sir!” Marcus protested.

“Return to your table, and stay there, Mr. Flint. I’m sure there is plenty of sneering and bullying to be done,” sighed Snape.

“Are you ok, crumb cake?” Troy approached from the other side of the cafeteria. He took in her up close and personal stance with Malfoy. “Can’t be doing too bad there, huh, Muffin?”

“No, I’m ok, Dr. Troy. Thank you for asking.”

“Sure thing, plum pudding.” Dr. Troy smiled cheerfully at her. “How’s your little project going?”

Hermione shot a quick look at Snape, who was glaring at Malfoy’s arms around her. “Much better, thank you.”

“Anytime, pumpkin.” He winked at her and headed back up to the head table, where Oliver was waiting impatiently for him.

Hermione looked up at Draco, her face confused but grateful. “Thank you?”

“Was that a question or an expression of gratitude?” Draco grinned. “Because I can think of a few other ways you can thank me.”

“Ewww . . . “ Hermione grimaced and turned away.

“I can’t help it – it’s in my nature,” Draco said unapologetically.

Snape smacked him lightly in the back of the head.

Still, Harry, Ginny and Ron were both looking at him with approving gazes, though Ron’s still held a thread of suspicion.

“You know, Draco,” Ginny smiled, punching him lightly in the arm. He stared at her, feeling a little shocked and rubbed his arm. “Maybe you’re not as insufferable a bastard as I thought you were.”

“You take that back!”

Hermione, Draco and Harry sat in Snape’s office, tension filling the room. Severus had made them tea, but it sat untouched on the table before him.

“So, any special potions in this?” Harry asked, peering into his cup suspiciously.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Snape smirked.

Harry looked at Hermione accusingly. She shrugged, “What? I told you he was funny.”

“Uh-huh.” Harry set his cup down and picked up the cup that Snape had poured for her, figuring it was safe.

“So, what do we do now?” Hermione asked, folding her hands in her lap.

“Now, we wait,” Snape said ominously, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we wait in Gryffindor tower?” Harry questioned.

“Yes, because that would throw suspicion of our spy status off,” Snape drawled. “Oh, Lucius, what are you doing here? Is this where you told me the attack would start? My mistake.”

“I doubt he’ll be sober enough to make it through the Hogwarts’ shields,” commented Draco lazily. He was anxious to get out of Snape’s office and engage in more pleasurable activities.

“Don’t underestimate your father, Draco,” Snape warned. “There’s a reason he’s gotten as far as he has.”

“Besides money, you mean?” Draco asked.

“Are there things about you that your father doesn’t know, Draco? Does he have an accurate appreciation of your abilities?” Snape asked.

Draco stared mutinously back at his professor.

“Then let’s assume that the same may be true of him.” Snape wearily sat down in his favorite chair.

Harry met Draco’s eyes, a question on his face. Draco shook his head briefly.

“Something you would like to share, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked shrewdly.

“No, sir.” Harry replied politely, adding a few mental expletives as he hid his smile in Hermione’s cup of tea.

Draco looked up, his expression slightly startled. “Such language, Hero!”

Hermione looked confused. “What language?”

Harry decided to change the subject. “So, think Ron will be ok by himself until we get there?”

“That was incredible subtlety there, Mr. Potter. Almost didn’t notice you deflecting attention away from yourself.” Snape rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Mr. Weasley will be just fine.”

“Yeah, don’t forget, Dr. Troy and Oliver are there with him,” Hermione added gently.

“Yeah, they’ll be fine . . .” Harry did not look reassured.

“I heard Sheldon say he would be there, too,” Draco snorted. The room became silent for a moment.

“Maybe we should head that way, now,” Hermione suggested.

“Good idea, Mr. Granger.” Snape got to his feet, quickly heading for the door, the rest of them on his heels. “Good idea.”

Lucius stepped from the fireplace in the Gryffindor Commons with a flourish. Various Gryffindors lounged around the area, unaware of what was coming. Ron, Dr. Troy and Oliver sat on the couch facing the fireplace. They jumped to their feet as Lucius cast the Dark Mark onto the ceiling.

“Here we go with the decorators from Hell,” muttered Dr. Troy.

“Salutations,” Lucius grinned evilly, raising his wand.

“Are you an Odor Eater?” Dr. Troy questioned. “I didn’t expect his hair to be so shiny.”

There was a small popping sound, and the shields around Hogwarts collapsed. Lucius gestured to the fireplace, now swirling with green flame. “Come, my friends. It’s time.”

“Got quite a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t he?” Dr. Troy commented as Oliver and Ron raised their wands.

“It will not save him!” Sheldon announced and he leapt onto Lucius’ head, tangling himself in his hair. “Ha-ha, take that, you blackguard!”

Death Eaters were now coming out of the flames, one by one until there were thirteen in all, counting Lucius. The younger Griffindors began to panic. Ron shouted over the din, “Back to your rooms and lock the doors!”

Oliver had moved to the stairs and was helping the younger students get through; shooting cover spells at the Death Eaters, who grinned maliciously by the fireplace.

Lucius managed to pull the book from his hair and tossed him onto a candelabrum, where he promptly caught fire. Sheldon shrieked girlishly and quickly dropped to the floor and began rolling to put the flames out. Lucius leapt over the couch and past a surprised Ron, who followed just a second behind, trying to stop him before he reached the line of students. Even as he reached forward, grabbing a form that had chosen to hide behind a nearby chair, Lucius commanded the Death Eaters, “Grab the mudbloods! Kill anyone who tries to stop you!”

“Stop right there, Malfoy!” Ron commanded, his wand pointed at Lucius’ throat. “I don’t like to use the Unforgiveables, but I’ll get over it for you.”

“Step back, Weasley,” Lucius sneered, noting the tall gangly boy’s red hair. When he turned around, he had Ginny wrapped in one arm, his wand digging into the skin under her chin. “There aren’t any curses I don’t like to use.”

“I can’t get the portrait open!” Hermione shouted. The Fat Lady had disappeared, and the password afforded no result. “Something’s wrong!”

“Get back!” Harry grasped Hermione’s shoulder and moved her out of the way.

“Mr. Potter, this is not the time for – “ Snape trailed off.

Harry reached back, clasping Draco’s hand in his. They shouted together, “OPEN!”

The portrait opened with an explosive bang. Snape and Hermione stared wide-eyed at them. Harry and Draco lost no time climbing through the portrait entrance. Neither had drawn their wand.

“What now?” Hermione asked, grasping her wand.

“Showtime,” Snape looked at her gravely, offering her a hand through the opening. He stared forward at the pair now casting spells in perfect sync, one after the other. The spells the Death Eaters cast back bounced off them like the boys were surrounded by their own wards. What in the hell was going on here? Before he had time to contemplate the matter any further, Death Eaters began Apparating out of the tower, a student clutched in each of their hands.

Hopefully Harry and Draco were creating enough chaos that they could not determine which were pureblood and which were not. If so, the Death Eaters would pause on the grounds to make sure they were bringing their Lord what he wanted. It might give them a little more time.

Looking back at Hermione, he swallowed tightly. Quickly, he cast a concealment charm over the both of them, and they set about casting spells as backup for Harry, Draco, Oliver and Dr. Troy. In moments, the Death Eaters, including Lucius, had all Apparated out of the tower.

Hermione rushed to Harry’s side. He stood beside Draco and in front of Ron, panting slightly from exertion. All three of their faces were grave.

Before she could say anything, Harry and Draco held out their hands and their respective brooms flew into them. Ron climbed on behind Harry, and Draco pulled Hermione unceremoniously onto his broom. Harry nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Are they gone?” She asked, breathlessly.

“Just outside,” Draco said tightly.

As they flew out the tower window, Hermione saw that Snape, Oliver and Dr. Troy had already Apparated below and were facing off against the Death Eaters once more.

“We stopped them from Apparating, we think, but,” Harry paused, looking over his shoulder at Ron.

“But what? What happened?” Hermione demanded as they touched down to rejoin the fight.

“It’s Ginny,” Ron whispered. “Lucius has Ginny.”

“Oh, Merlin! Ron . . .” Hermione gasped.

“Not for long,” Harry promised, and he and Draco took off across the grounds.

Dumbledore headed up a cadre of Phoenix Order members, teachers and Aurors, who were deftly disarming the Death Eaters and retrieving their captives. Dr. Troy and Oliver were collecting the frightened students, quickly moving them to a secure area behind the line of Aurors, trying to comfort them as much as possible. Griff-gruff, Rune, Hazelheart and even Snippy and Snarky waited with the students.

Lucius was struggling to get onto his broom, holding a squirming Ginny in one arm. As the boys watched, she ruthlessly bit into his wrist and elbowed him in his gut. He cast some spell at her and she slumped, limp in his arms. As he hovered on his broom once more, his hand holding Ginny, face down, on his lap was indecently high on her leg.

“What do you think, Hero?”

“Accio Ginny?” Harry shrugged, unsure of what spell to use.

Draco looked at him as if to say, ‘You must be joking.’ But after a second he realized that he didn’t have a better idea.

“Accio Ginny!” They shouted together. She flew off Lucius’s lap a little faster than they expected, and Snape appeared out of nowhere to catch her before she could hit the ground.

Enraged, Lucius drew his wand and pointed it at the girl cradled in Snape’s arms. “Snape, you have gone too far!”

Hermione and Rune saw Lucius and realized his intentions instantly. They both ran towards Severus, trying desperately to get to him before Lucius could cast the spell. They screamed in one voice, “Severus!”

Hermione’s throat tightened. Rune was just ahead of her. Would either of them make it in time?

Lucius screamed, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Harry saw the green flash fly by his head just as he and Draco turned to look at Snape and Ginny. He whispered to the blond, running at his side, “Did that hit, has somebody been hit?”

They came to a stop just beside where Snape held a sobbing Ginny in his arms, as they both stared at the ground, where Hermione lay next to Rune on the ground. Only one of them was moving.

Draco inhaled sharply as his eyes took in the one still figure. “No, Hero. Somebody’s dead.”

TBC . . .