Bonds of Duty

Chapter 3: Surprises and Questions


Because Hermione left Hogwarts far later than she\'d intended, Diagon Alley was far busier than she liked by the time she arrived there.

She went to Gringotts first, and had to spend a considerable length of time standing around in the queue waiting for the first free goblin. When she finally emerged from the bank, her pockets were weighed down with many small bags of Galleons and Sickles, and a handful of Knuts. The variety of coins was important: some of the places she planned on visiting that day were loath to give change.

Hermione stepped out into the street, squinting against the sun, which was now high in the sky. The Alley was filled with colour and movement as witches and wizards dressed in all manner of robes and carrying all manner of weird and wonderful objects hurried about their business. Across the street, the entrance to Knockturn Alley was swathed in shadow; it was as though the sunlight somehow failed to touch it.

Next, Hermione\'s eyes fell on the Magical Menagerie, where she\'d bought Crookshanks. She smiled slightly, remembering her first sight of him, a ball of orange fur springing down after Ron\'s rat, Scabbers. Ron had been outraged and had resented Crookshanksprespresence at Hogwarts for most of the rest of that year, but Crookshanks had been proved to be a shrewd judge of character in the end. Her smile faded, as she recalled another wizard who was less than thrilled about Crookshanks\'s current presence at Hogwarts, or, more specifically, about Crookshanks\'s presence in his quarters at Hogwarts.

When Hermione had first arrived to stay, Snape had arched one brow and remarked, in a deadly voice, that there had been no mention in any previous discussion of *an animal* accompanying her. Hermione had replied tartly that Crookshanks was not *an animal*, as Snape put it, but her familiar. Surely, she had asked, Snape was sufficiently well-versed in the ways of wizards and witches that it should come as no surprise that she was possessed of a familiar? Snape had not replied to that, but merely thrown one last, suspicious glance at Crookshanks and advised Herm to to \"Keep it out of my way and out of my things.\" Nothing further had been said on the subject of Crookshanks\'s presence. Much to Hermione\'s surprise, the cat did not take an instant and irrevocable set against Snape, as she\'d been more than half-expecting. Snape proceeded to act as though Crookshanks wasn\'t there at all, and Crookshanks, equally, kept to himself. This was wholly unlike Crookshanks\'s usual behaviour when he met someone new. Generally, upon meeting someone for the t tit time, Crookshanks either took a liking to that person - or creature - or took them in aversion. Not this time, though. It was almost as though Crookshanks was biding his time and reserving judgement of Snape for the moment.

A tall wizard pushed past her, and Hermione realised she was blocking the doorway into the bank. Muttering a brief apology, she moved away and out into the street. It was more than past time to get on with her shopping.

Her first stop wasn\'t far and was somewhere she knew well: Madam Malkin\'s Robes For All Occasions. As soon as she stepped in the door, she was greeted by Madam Malkin herself, who proceeded to ask after Harry and Ron in her usual friendly way before smoothly guiding the conversation back to the subject of what sort of robes Hermione was in need of. Madam Malkin was not a successful businesswitch for nothing. She had Hermione\'s measurements on file, of course, and since all the measurements on her file were charmed to alter automatically in keeping with any alterations to the dimensions of the wizard or witch to which they belonged, there was no need for Hermione to go through the tedious process of a complete fitting. Before long, she had a new set of dress robes in her favourite shade of blue. She managed to resist a set of work robes in a rather violent and unsuitable shade of purple, settling instead on another set made of a serviceable dark grey fabric.

By the time her purchases had been duly wrapped and paid for, Hermione was itching to get out of Madam Malkin\'s and into the next shop she had to visit that day. Shopping for clothes was one of her least favourite activities, and she never willingly subjected herself to the experience except when there was real need. Hermione was on the point of making her escape when the door opened and another witch walked in.

\"Hermione! What a surprise. Fancy meeting you here!\"

Hermionund und herself face to face with one of the people she missed least from her schooldays. *I don\'t fancy it at all*, she thought. Instead, she said, \"Hello, Pansy. It\'s been a while.\"

\"It has been a while! I\'m so glad we bumped into each other. I was wondering whether you were going to turn up this time, but I see you must be since you\'re buying new robes.\" Pansy Parkinson managed to sound patronising and insincere in equal measure as she gave Hermione an assessing look, eyeing hatheather worn robes with obvious distaste. In contrast, Pansy\'s own robes were crisp and new and cut in the very latest style. They also appeared to be embellished with thread of gold. Such richness of dress seemed out of place when paired with Pansy\'s hard, pug-nosed face.

\"I\'m sorry?\" asked Hermione, wondering what on earth was Pansy going on about.

\"The reunion. You know. Surely you must have received the Owl about it.\"

\"I\'m sorry, I don\'t-\"

\"Our class reunion. We\'ve had one every year since we left Hogwarts, but you\'ve never attended any of them. None of you Gryffindors have.\" Pansy managed to sound quite accusing, which was no mean feat since neither Hermione nor any of her fellow Gryffindors had ever received an invitation to any such gathering, and Pansy obviously knew that very well.

\"I\'ve been busy,\" Hermione responded coolly. \"We all have. There\'s a little matter of a war being waged these days you know, Pansy. We don\'t have time for much frivolity.\"

\"So the newspapers keep saying, though I\'ve never seen any evidence of a war myself.\" Pansy waved one hand dismissively. \"Anyway, are you planning to come to the reunion? It\'s going to be held at Hogwarts this time. Draco says – you would have read about our wedding, I\'m sure – Draco says that most of the professors are going to attend this time, including dear Professor Snape.\"

There was a slight, malicious glint in her eye as she mentioned Snape, which instantly put Hermione on her guard. Just what was Pansy up to? There was no way she was looking forward to seeing Hermione again, any more than Hermione ever wanted to have anything to do with Pansy again if she could possibly help it. How much did she know about Snape\'s activities and loyalties? Did she know anything at all about Hermione\'s current situation? Or had she mentioned Snape merely because of the way he\'d treated them all when they were at school: bias in favour of the Slytherins at the expense of everyone else. Somehow, Hermione didn\'t think that Pansy\'s motive in mentioning Snape was so relatively innocent. Hermione had the feeling that every word Pansy uttered had been carefully rehearsed. This whole encounter had the air of something that was in no way accidental, in fact. But why? There was only one way to find out.

\"I haven\'t received an invitation, and I can\'t very well turn up uninvited, so it\'s unlikely you\'ll see me there,\" Hermione pointed out.

\"Really?\" Pansy didn\'t make much of an effort at keeping the falseness out of her attempt at surprise this time. \"The Owl must have got lost. I\'m sure Millicent would have despatched it with the others.\"

\"Perhaps,\" said Hermione. \"You must be looking forward to seeing Professor Snape again,\" she added, watching Pansy closely for her reaction.

\"Of course. I have so many fond memories of him from school.\"

*I\'ll just bet you do*, thought Hermione.

\"And of course you would have many memories of him, too,\" Pansy continued, her lips curling into an unpleasant smile.

\"Oh many memories, of course,\" Hermione agreed.

\"So you\'ll want to attend the reunion if your invitation should happen to turn up?\"

\"It\'s something to consider,\" Hermione allowed, a less than enthusiastic response which had the desired effect of making Pansy\'s mouth pinch in annoyance. Why was Pansy pressing her about this?

\"I look forward to seeing you there,\" Pansy said.

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself laughing out loud. She swallowed hard. \"I\'ll look forward to seeing you just as much as I always do, Pansy.\" That comment was rewarded with a narrowing of Pansy\'s eyes. \"Assuming I receive an invitation, of course. And now, if you\'ll excuse me, I need to get on with the rest of my shopping.\"

\"Of course,\" said Pansy. \"See you at the reunion.\"

\"Goodbye, Pansy,\" Hermione said firmly, and hurried out the door before Pansy had the chance to prolong the conversation any further.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she got out into the street again. She hadn\'t been looking for any sort of conversation with anyone today, much less such a simultaneously hostile and puzzling one. There could be no doubt that Pansy was keen for Hermione to attend an event that had been almost exclusively Slytherin in the past; subtlety had never been Pansy\'s strong suit, after all. And why had Snape agreed to attend? He must know that it was normally a Malfoy-sponsored function. He hadn\'t mentioned the matter to Hermione – but then, he didn\'t make a habit of saying more to her than he absolutely had to about any subject. Perhaps holding the function at Hogwarts was his doing. Or Dumbledore\'s. But, if so, why hadn\'t either of them mentioned it to her, if not to the other members of the Order? Since no one was supposed to know about the fact that she was living at Hogwarts, Hermione needed to be kept informed about little things like a student reunion being held in the castle. It wouldn\'t do for her to be seen going into or out of Snape\'s private quarters.

She decided to raise the topic when she got back that afternoon. However, there were still plenty of other things she had to sort out in Diagon Alley first. She felt a small thrill as she made her way to the next shop on her list: Flourish and Blotts, her favourite bookshop in the world.

The manager nodded to Hermione in recognition as she entered. She paused briefly at the \'Just In\' shelves near the front of the shop, but for once there wasn\'t much there which really piqued her interest apart from a weighty and garishly-bound tome entitled *White Wizard or Dark Lord: the Epic Struggle Between Albus Dumbledore and You-Know-Who, Part 1* by Thelonius Thranglegood. It was the publishing sensation of the year. It was also, predictably, sensationalist rubbish. Hermione had already read it and not been much impressed, particularly since the author was apparently hanging out for the outcome of said epic struggle before letting loose the sequel on the far too susceptible book-buying segment of the wizarding public.

Hermione moved on through the shop, passing the Arithmancy, Potion-brewing and Cookery, Magical History, and Self Help sections, all of which held their own fascination for her, all of which were arranged exactly as she remembered them since her very first visit to Flourish and Blotts, and all of which she ignored without a second glance. Instead, she mounted the rickety stairs to the first floor, where even more fascinating books were to be found.

Like the library at Hogwarts, Flourish and Blotts was less than well-stocked when it came to books containing information about the role of sex in various forms of magical practice, and so it came as no real surprise that she was reduced to choosing from a slim array of sources with titles like *Wizarding Wedlock: how to Maintain the Magic in Your Marriage* and *What Every Young Married Witch Should Know*. Hermione frowned in annoyance at the poor range, but picked up a copy of each just the same. It wouldn\'t hurt to explore every avenue, however unlikely. Those were just the places in which a serendipitous discovery might be made.

Hermione made her way back downstairs and went up to the main counter, where the manager hovered as he kept one careful eye on a rather disreputable old wizard who was wandering uncertainly amongst the Divination texts at the back of the shop.

\"Good afternoon, Miss Granger,\" said the manager.

\"Hello, Mr Bunce,\" said Hermione. \"I was wondering if any of my special orders have come in yet?\"

\"Oh yes, I believe so. Just let me check…\" Bunce bent down, rummaged under the counter for a moment, and pulled out something that looked rather like a square, golden birdcage. He tapped his wand on it three times, muttered an incantation Hermione couldn\'t quite catch, and the top of the cage sprang open to reveal a large, black book.

Hermione scanned the front cover eagerly. \"Oh, it\'s *Dark Arts Theory, Volume 5: Combining Magical Sources*! That\'s the one I was most wanting.\"

The manager smiled a slightly superior smile. \"It took quite some tracking down, but we here at Flourish and Blotts have always prided ourselves on making that extra effort when seeking out books on behalf of our best customers.\" He coughed delicately. \"No matter what the cost.\"

\"I have the exact amount, as requested,\" said Hermione. She dug into her pocket, pulled out a bag of Galleons and another of silver Sickles, and set them down on the counter. \"It\'s all therhe ghe goblin certified the contents of each bag before the locking charms were applied. Oh, and I\'d like to buy these as well, please.\" She put down the small pile of books she\'d taken from upstairs.

\"Of course.\" Bunce smiled another of his professional smiles, which faded right away as he noticed the title of the book on top of the pile. \"Er, Miss Granger…\"

\"Yes?\"

\"I take it that I should be extending my felicitations?\"

\"I\'m sorry?\"

\"You\'re getting married, I take it? Or have, perhaps already done so, in which case I should point out that we will require your married name for our records.\"

\"No, I\'m not married, nor am I planning to be. Why do you ask?\" She just refrained from adding *And what business is it of yours, anyway?*

\"Ah, I see.\" Bunce\'s voice went very cold. He sounded nothing like his usual unctuous self.

\"Well, I don\'t see,\" Hermione said crossly.

\"I\'m afraid that books from the Marital Matters section are generally only made available to married witches and wizards.\"

\"What?\" Hermione couldn\'t believe her ears.

\"That has been the unofficial policy of this establishment for many years.\"

\"I\'ve been buying books here for years and I don\'t remember any such policy!\"

\"Well, it wouldn\'t have come up since you\'ve never tried to buy a book on that subject here before.\"

\"No, I haven\'t,\" said Hermione through clenched teeth. \"Possibly because you stock such a limited range on the subject.\"

Bunce drew himself up. \"Flourish and Blotts stocks the most extensive range of titles on this, and every other, subject of any bookshop in the whole of Great Britain.\"

\"In this case, that\'s not really saying all that much.\"

\"Miss Granger-\"

\"Look, you\'ve just sold me a book that is very far from being generally available because, as you said yourself, I\'m one of your best customers, and now you\'re quibbling over selling me books that are freely available to any customer?\"

\"Those books are not freely available to any customer. As you well know, all the books on the upper floor are available only to customers over the age of seventeen.\"

\"I am over the age of seventeen, so what\'s the problem?\"

Bunce closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. \"Technically, yes, anyone over seventeen may purchase any of those books. However-\"

\"Good, then if I *technically* pay for them, there should be no problem.\"

He sighed in what sounded very much like resignation, and then unexpectedly threw her a look that she couldn\'t quite identify but which made her suddenly uneasy. Bunce had always been polite in his dealings with her, in his own oily way, but now there was something about his manner that was definitely less than respectful. The look he was giving her was, frankly, assessing, as though he\'d never really quite looked at her properly before – or as though he had just realised that she had changed somehow since the last time she\'d visited the bookshop.

Since she\'d left Hogwarts that morning, Hermione had been careful not to dwell on what had transpired in Snape\'s bed last night, but now she wondered: was there something subtly different about her now? Could Bunce somehow discern that only last night she\'d been gasping in pleasure at the touch of a man that she didn\'t love and didn\'t even really like? And what about other people? All the people in the street today? What about Pansy? Had they all been able to tell, just by looking at her?

\"I suppose we could come to an arrangement,\" said Bunce, and winked, so quickly that Hermione might have only imagined it – except that she knew very well that she hadn\'t.

Hermione pulled herself together. \"I wish to buy these books. Either sell them to me or not, but don\'t waste any more of my time,\" she said in a frozen voice.

Bunce raised one eyebrow, but \"Of course,\" was all he said as he named the price and proceeded to wrap Hermione\'s purchases.

Hermione had never been so glad to leave a bookshop in her life. She left the shop so quickly, in fact, that she walked straight into the path of a stout witch with fly-away grey hair. The witch dropped her shopping basket and its contents spilled out onto the cobblestones.

After Hermione had apologised, and helped the witch collect the belongings which had gone flying - including a jar of pickled eye of toad, a packet of extra quality Floo powder and a loaf of crusty bread still warm from the bakery – she forced herself to step back into the doorway of Flourish and Blotts and take a deep breath. There was no way anyone could tell by just looking at her. It wasn\'t as though the truth was written across her forehead. She was just getting fanciful and silly.

A wizard in a dark green robe stared at her. Did he know?

The wizard looked away and continued on down the street while Hermione cursed herself for jumping to baseless conclusions. This wouldn\'t do. She couldn\'t react like that every time anyone\'s gaze fell on her. There couldn\'t be something about her that told everyone who looked at her just what she\'d been doing last night, even if an irrational part of her mind kept jumping to that conclusion. It was funny, though. She\'d never felt this way beforot wot with Snape and not with her other... with the other men she\'d slept with. Even the first time, she\'d never wondered the next day if people could tell, or felt that there was a fundamental difference between the way she was yesterday and the way she was today. Maybe it was because those other times the sex had been more civilised, somehow. Normal. Not driven by a spell that demanded to be fed. Those other times she\'d never cried out as she had last night. The feeling had never taken her over to the point where not only did she not have control over what she was doing, she was also just barely aware that she was doing it.

A wave of dizziness swept over her and Hermione clutched the doorpost to stop herself keeling over. She felt very, very tired, and wanted nothing more than to go ho- go back to Hogwarts and spend an hour or two in bed.

Hermione looked across the street, where the windows of Florean Fortescue\'s Ice-cream Parlour sparkled gaily in the sun. Originally, she had intended to stop in at the Leaky Cauldron for a quick cou lun lunch but it would be so crowded by now that that was out of the question. Perhaps an ice-cream would do as a stop-gap measure until she got back to Hogwarts. She never had got around to having breakfast that morning so it was no wonder that she was feeling light-headed.

A little while later, Hermione was strolling up Diagon Alley, a plain, vanilla ice-creame ine in one hand, inwardly debating whether to leave the rest of her shopping until another day. The boshe\she\'d bought in Flourish and Blotts, plus the one she had waiting back at the castle, would keep her researches going forward for the time being. She needed to get some things at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary but, really, it wasn\'t exactly an urgent errand. There could hardly be much on the list of ingredients she required that the Potions master at Hogwarts would not have in stock, after all. Similarly, most of the other items she needed from other shops could wait until her next visit to Hogsmeade.

Theas ras really only one item left on her shopping list which could not be obtained elsewhere. Hermione cast a glance over to her left, uneasily aware that the entrance to Knockturn Alley loomed there. You couldn\'t be too careful in places like Knockturn Alley, but she really needed to go Borgin and Burkes more than ever now that Flourish and Blotts had proved so unhelpful – not to mention close to downright useless – when it came to that one particular aspect of her research.

Another wave of tiredness hit her, and Hermione made up her mind. It would all wait for another day. Right now, she needed to get out of Diagon Alley and back to the castle.

Once she\'d finished her ice-cream, she wasted no time in doing just that.

***

The broome fre from the castle gates seemed to take most of what remained of her energy, and Hermione was more than ready for a rest by the time she got back to the dungeons. She\'d barely made it in through the door to Snape\'s quarters when something small and white streaked through the air towards her. Hermione threw up one arm up to shield her face while the other dug into her pocket for her wand. Something thudded lightly against the back of her hand and quickly wedged itself between two of her fingers. Cautiously moving her arm down again, Hermione discovered that the object was a tiny scroll. She unrolled it, frowning as she read:

*The potion is on the table.

Do NOT forget to take it as soon as you return.

S.S.*

Hermione\'s fingers clenched around the small square of parchment, crushing it. Trust Snape to infuse such condescension into such a brief note. Did he really think she would have forgotten to take the Contraceptive Concoction? Did he honestly think she was unaware of the possible consequences?

Fuming, Hermione stalked past the steaming goblet sitting on the table in the middle of the room, and made her way through to the bedroom. She put down her bag, kicked off her shoes and grabbed the heavy book which lay on the bedside table. Then she settled down to continue her research from where she\'d left off the night before.

Once the first flush of anger had cooled, she lowered the book to her lap, aware that she hadn\'t taken in a single word that she\'d read. She wasn\'t sure what she should do next. Part of her wanted to stay in here and ignore the goblet waiting for her in the other room; the rest of her was aware of how very childish she was being. The fleeting satisfaction of not drinking the Concoction and so showing Snape that he couldn\'t just issue commands at her and expect to be obeyed could well turn out to be cold comfort in the months to come. She couldn\'t avoid the goblet for ever; she couldn\'t ignore it for more than a few hours. She might as well get it over and done with.

Sighing, Hermione carefully closed the book and got up again.

The goblet was still sitting exactly where she\'d left it, and still steaming. It reminded her a little of the Wolfsbane Potion that Snape brewed each month for Remus Lupin. At least the Contraceptive Concoction tasted better, from all reports. She picked up the goblet and downed the potion in one gulp. She made a face. It might taste better than the Wolfsbane Potion, but she was betting it wasn\'t by all that much. The next time she saw Lupin she must remember to ask him exactly what the Wolfsbane tasted like. He wouldn\'t mind. Lupin was nice and approachable and always willing to talk about ideas. In short, he was as unlike some other wizards of Hermione\'s acquaintance as it was possible to be. It was such a pity that his monthly problem made him ineligible to take part in Hermione\'s current… undertaking. She\'d much rather live with him, or do anything with him, than with Snape. Doing things with Snape was so distasteful.

She closed her eyes as she was abruptly assailed by a memory of the night before. Unfortunately, closing her eyes didn\'t do her much good, since the memory was a sensory one. In fact, closing her eyes only served to enhance the memory of Snape\'s hands, stroking down her body, gently pushing open her legs, closing in bit by bit and…

Hermione swallowed. Yes, doing such things with Lupin wouldn\'t have been nearly so distasteful.

She put down the goblet back on the table where she\'d found it. Snape had left it out; he could clean it up. She would-

The goblet went flying as Hermione made a desperate grab for the side of the table. The room was spinning before her eyes, and everything was suddenly much, much brighter than it should be. She reached blindly with her other hand, found the back of the nearest chair and fell heavily into it. Trembling, she sat with her head between her knees, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.

But this time, it didn\'t pass. Even as she sat there with her eyes closed, Hermione could feel the room tilting and spinning around her.

She needed help. Hermione sat up very slowly, but she still felt sick to the stomach when she opened her eyes to see the room pitching and heaving around her. She got to her feet very shakily, clutching at bookshelves as she made agonisingly slow progress towards the door.

\"*Alohomora*,\" she whispered. The door flew open and she stumbled out into the school corridor.

She took one step and her legs gave out, folding up beneath her for all the world as though they belonged to a flimsy picnic chair.

She might have blacked out. She wasn\'t sure. If she had blacked out, she didn\'t think it was for all that long. She lay there for a while, the feel of the cold, hard floor against her head oddly comforting. She couldn\'t possibly fall any further while she was down there.

She knew she should try to get up. The door to Snape\'s private quarters was standing wide open and revealed to anyone who should chance by.

She hoped someone would chance by, and soon.

\"Help!\" she croaked. \"Somebody help me!\"

And then the darkness took her.