Blanc du Noir

Blanc du Noir
By: Aglaia

See first chapter for disclaimer.

“Albus!!” bellowed Snape as soon as he stepped into the Headmaster’s office.

Dumbledore looked up from his desk, only to be faced with a fuming (oh, how appropriate) Potions Master. He smiled serenely, further riling Snape, and spoke pleasantly.

“Hello, Severus. Back rather later tonight, yes? But you appear none the worse for wear, so I’ll assume there were no unpleasant surprises?”

“Of course not, Albus!” replied Snape sarcastically, pacing in front of the desk, “No, no, all the surprises tonight were very pleasant, and completely expected.”

“Lovely,” said Dumbledore, refusing to be drawn in by Snape’s bad mood. “Would you like a cup of tea? And then we can go over the evening.”

“Albus, just please, for pity’s sake; tell me what the bloody hell Miss Granger was doing there?”

“Ah, that…”

“Yes, that!”

At that moment, Miss Granger herself stepped out of the fireplace in the Headmaster’s office, and calmly brushed the soot from her clothes, ignoring the two men.

“Ah, Miss Granger!” exclaimed Dumbledore, glad for the momentary distraction, “Perfect timing. We were just about to have some tea, care to join us?”

“That would be lovely, Headmaster, thank you.”

“And how did you find Remus, this evening?”

“Oh, he fell asleep on the couch waiting for me, poor dear; the last moon took its toll,” she said, straightening up. “I ended up covering him with his quilt, and leaving a note not to worry, that I’d be by in a couple days, as I also need to see Tom.”

“Albus…,” growled Snape impatiently, tired of the niceties, and wanting answers.

“Yes, yes, Professor. You’ll get to badger me with questions in a moment,” said Hermione, waving him off. She took her cup of tea from the Headmaster with a word of thanks, and made herself comfortable in one of the chairs by the fire. Dumbledore moved to one of the others with his tea, surreptitiously watching his Potions Master.

It was an interesting display Snape put on, his normally impassive face was very expressive this night. Anger was very obvious, both because he wasn’t getting answers, and being spoken to in such a dismissive way by a student, who, by all rights, should have been terrified by him. As well, though, there was a hint of wariness, considering what he witnessed earlier of Hermione’s powers.

“Now, then,” began Dumbledore, “I think perhaps we should try to answer some of Professor Snape’s questions, Miss Granger.”

“About bloody time,” muttered Snape under his breath.

“Yes, of course, Headmaster,” said Hermione, then turned to her still-standing Professor. “You might, perhaps, want to sit down for this, Professor, it may take a while before we’re through.”

“Just get on with it, Miss Granger,” replied Snape irritably, “I’ve not more patience to spare tonight.”

“Quite, because I’ve always found you have so much,” shot back Hermione. She summoned another chair to the fire. “Sit,” she commanded him, and without thought, Snape sat. The moment he did, however, he jumped back up.

“What the hell was that?!” he demanded, “I didn’t do that!”

“Really? It certainly looked like you did to me. But, then again, appearances can be deceiving, as I’m sure you already know,” answered Hermione blithely. “Please sit, Professor… free of all outside influence…”

“That is one of the things I demand an answer to, Miss Granger. But firstly, how exactly did you get yourself into this damnable situation?”

“Long or abridged version?” she asked after eyeing him a moment.

“Sum-up.”

“Right. When my house was attacked the summer before last, and my parents killed, what is not commonly known is that I was there. They took me to Voldemort as a treat.” Snape knew perfectly well what sort of treat she would have been, and expressed his surprise that she had lived at all, let alone gotten to where she was now.

“Ah, well, there’s a simple answer to that. I laughed at him.” Snape gaped at her.

“Survived, because you laughed!?” he asked incredulously. “That’s the surest was to die by his right-hand, not become it! How the bloody fuck did you manage that!?” He let his normal coldly formal speech behind in his shock.

“Oh, don’t mistake the matter – he certainly had a good go at me, but I managed to block and dodge while getting some of my own hits in before he called a halt. You see, he figured that I was the, meaning the only, aside from himself, exception to the rule that Mudbloods are inferior. So he had to either shut me up, or have me switch sides. Logically, I’d never join him, but seeing as he hadn’t managed to kill me, that was his only option. He tried certain… methods… of persuasion. Suffice it to say, he went so far as to offer me the Malfoy spawn as my own little treat. Tempting as that was, I didn’t give over. However, momentary temptation was enough to convince him he had a foothold, and so he pried. I was already skilled enough in occlumency to hide my true feelings, and made him believe he was wining me over, while trying to find a way out.” She paused, considering whether or not to elaborate on the ‘techniques’ Voldemort used to convince her – and decided against it. That was rather more information than she really wanted him to have at present.

Snape cleared his throat impatiently as she had drifted off in though. Hermione shook herself back to the present.

“Long story short,” she began again, “I was kept for several days in delightful accommodations at the Riddle house. In that time, he ‘lured me over’ to his side, though I still didn’t show outright trust; that would have been stupid. I was given his mark so he could recall me, and sent back to London,” she finished quickly.

They all sat quietly for a few minutes while Snape digested this information. Innumerable questions were forming in his mind, and he couldn’t decide which to as first.

“Well, Professor?” asked Hermione. Snape’s head snapped up, and he scowled. “You obviously have millions of questions churning about in there – so begin with the badgering why don’t you?”

“Why didn’t anyone know you were at home that night?” he asked without preamble. “You were to alert the Order to you whereabouts at all times.”

“Several reasons. One, it got bloody tiring telling people ‘I’m going to Flourish and Blotts’, ‘I’m going to Madame Malkin’s’, ‘I’m going for a walk down this, this, and this street.’ Then, of course, there’s usually someone tailing you, and that’s even more aggravating.”

“Those were precautionary measures for you safety, you stupid girl! Or did you think it was all for shits and giggles that members of the Order were wasting their time on you and your friends!?”

“Severus,” cut in Dumbledore, with quiet reproval in his voice, “do try to listen to Miss Granger’s point of view and not insult her intelligence. She knows why such measures were taken.”

“Well it doesn’t bloody well look like that from here, does it? She went on her merry way, ignoring what she supposedly knew was for her own good. Doesn’t seem so damned intelligent to me, Albus! So what blood intelligence is this stupid girl am I supposed to not insult!?” Snape was by this time pacing and muttering under his breath about the egotistical stupidity of Gryffindors.

“Snape! Sit down, and shut up!” commanded Hermione from where she sat. Nothing but her voice showed that she was loosing her temper.

Snape sat without thought, and stopped muttering. Hermione fixed him with a glare worthy of a basilisk. He tried to stand again once he realized what had happened – and couldn’t. He also couldn’t speak so as to demand she release him.

Hermione continued to glare, and only when it turned into a contest between the two did she speak – this time in far more measured tones.

“In future, Professor,” she spat his title with distaste, “I would suggest you refrain from two things in my presence.” It again was not a suggestion, but a command. “One, and I realize this will be very difficult, so I may have to remind you on occasion, do try to not insult me. It may be momentarily fun, but that moment, I’m afraid, can have some rather serious consequences.”

Snape was now glowering and wishing with every vestige of his being that he could wrap his hands around her throat.

“And two,” she continues, unfazed by his look, “do not speak about me as though I weren’t in the same room. It really does add insult to… well, insults. Understood?” Snape nodded once, as he still couldn’t talk. “Very good, Severus!” she praised him mockingly. “Now, I was perfectly willing to answer most of your questions, but I now find myself rather reluctant. So what will happen, is that I will finish answering your first question, you will refrain from comment, and then you may ask four others. Only four. Clear?” Again he nodded. “You can speak now, if you please, but only to ask your questions.”

“Oh, you’re very kind, Mistress,” he replied acidly.

“I know,” said Hermione with a straight face. “Back to your first question, why didn’t anyone know I was home. As I said, it was grating on my nerves to constantly be tailed, and I needed time away from all that, and yes, I did know the dangers, just really didn’t care at that point. The main reason was that I needed to be away from the magical world, period, for a short space of time. I had to be alone before I could really apply myself to this fight, before I’d be prepared for whatever might transpire.”

“Oh, and you’re prepared for anything now, are you?” came the snarky rejoiner from Snape.

“More so than I was. And I remind you to restrict yourself to questions, Professor, keep your wit to yourself. Next question.”

“Why wasn’t the Order alerted? Then and regarding your current situation?”

“I believe the Headmaster could best answer that.”

“Albus?” Snape turned to question him.

“Originally, no one was alerted because no one knew Miss Granger was missing. The Aurors reported the Dark Mark over the house and her parents’ bodies, but there was no sign of anyone else there. It was assumed Miss Granger was still at Headquarters, or the Burrow, or some such thing.”

“And no one thought to check?” asked Snape testily.

“We did have quite a few things on our plates at that point, Severus, but I regret to say we made a grave error of assumption. But that’s neither here not there. That evening, when Miss Granger hadn’t returned, Remus informed me. We decided not to involve anyone else lest it be a false alarm, or certain people went off half-cocked and got themselves seriously injured or killed.” At the ‘certain people’ statement Snape snorted derisively. “Precisely. Her disappearance was a perfect lure, as Tom may have hoped.

“We kept it quiet, saying she had chosen solitude for a few days to deal with her parents’ deaths. Those of us who knew kept up a surreptitious search, and when she returned to London in a few days, more or less unharmed, there was no need to raise an alarm.

“When I debriefed Miss Granger and learned of Tom’s plans, I didn’t mention it to anyone for fear of putting them in danger. I still don’t feel we need to alert the entire Order to the situation, lest it prove of no value, and we simply raise false hopes and real fears.”

Snape was scowling fiercely at the Headmaster. “I’ve never understood your logic, Albus, but you always do as you see fit.” An ‘ahem’ from Hermione brought his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing. “Very well, Miss Granger. How strong are you, exactly?”

“Last I knew,” mused Hermione, “I could bench-press roughly 90 – 100 lbs - not bad for a female, eh?”

“That is not what I was referring to, Miss Granger. Magically, how strong are you?”

“I know what you meant, Professor. You heard what Tom told everyone, and you saw what I did. You just wasted a question. Next.”

“You’re evading answer, Miss Granger.”

“No, simply not repeating what you were told. In your position, I believe one is supposed to pay particular attention to everything said and done, so I see no point in repetition. Next. Question.”

“Oh, very well, but I will have an answer to that form you at some point.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him, and gesture impatiently to get on with it. “What, exactly, is your relationship with the Dark Lord?”

“I thought that was obvious…”

“Obviously not,” muttered Snape.

“With regards to Voldemort,” Snape flinched, but Hermione continued unperturbed, “I am his equal; his right-hand and confidante. With Tom, however, my relationship is a bit more complex.”

“Your speaking of him as though he were two people.”

“After a fashion, he is, yes. Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort are two very different facets of the same ‘man’. Voldemort – will you stop flinching!- is a sociopathic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur, and though Tom is just as murderous, he is also quite human.” Snape raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You may well wonder at it, but I’m in earnest. He can be wonderful company, unbelievably charming, and is really very nice toward those he cares for. Unfortunately, that seems to only be myself, so no one would know what I’m talking about...” She trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, but quickly picked up again. “So, relationship to Voldemort: entirely professional; with Tom, I’d say we’re more friends, companions, even. Your final question?”

Snape regarded her, considering the answer she’d just given him very carefully before asking his ‘final’ question. He leaned forward, fixing her with a piercing gaze, and demanded, “Where exactly, are your loyalties, Miss Gra-“

He was cut off by the air rushing out of his lungs as his chair toppled backwards. Hermione had moved so quickly, he hadn’t had time to react. In an instant, she was towering over his prone form, her livid countenance inches from his shocked one.

“Do not you DARE, EVER question my loyalties, Snape!” she snarled at him in a deadly whisper. “Mark this well, Man, it would not do for you to forget your place, or what Malfoy suffered tonight will seem like child’s play: I chose my allegiance long ago. I will fight for, kill for, and die for the Light, for all the Order, for my friends, my family, and yes, even for you. My loyalties will not waver regardless of what is offered me, given me, or taken from me. Do you understand?”

It was all Snape could do to nod, and make some inarticulate sound of ascent in his throat.

Hermione moved away from him, eyes still snapping with fire. “This meeting is over,” she declared, eyes locked with his. “Remember your place here, remember your place at gatherings, and remember what I told you.” Finally tearing her gaze away, she thanked Dumbledore for the tea, said she’d check in before she left for her meeting with Tom on Sunday, and bid him goodnight. She didn’t glance backwards as she left.

Dumbledore took in the form of his Potions Master, still lying in his overturned chair, and said in far too cheery a voice, “I think that went rather well.” He stifled a yawn, and continued, “But now, I think it is time I went off to bed. Do try to make it back to you rooms at some point this evening, Severus, your back will thank you for it.” He bade Snape a hearty goodnight, and doddered out, leaving the still supine man in his office.
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A/N: Thank you kindly for the reviews, they\'re marvelous.
I realize Hermione is severly out of character, but never fear, I do eventually give justification for it.

Hope you\'re all enjoying it so far!