Vain Wisdom All and False Philosophy

Author’s Notes: I must thank my beta, melusin, who has spent much of her time on my story.

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Chapter Three - Justify the Ways of God to Men

“It is quite wonderful to walk into a room full of such mirth during harsh times as these.”

Lemons, sunshine, twinkling eyes, Hermione had never felt so at peace all summer than at the moment when Professor Dumbledore walked into the kitchen.

“No, no, don’t any of you dare get up. We can forgo such pleasantries while I take a seat as well.” He twinkled at them while his tired old body sought Hermione’s favorite chair. Dumbledore’s robe hung loosely on him, hiding his injured hand from their view.

As she watched him slowly lower himself into the seat, closing his eyes as he reclined his back, uneasy emotions bombarded Hermione.

He looks like he’s in physical and mental pain.

At that moment, the last of Hermione’s optimism regarding her security chipped completely away. She finally realized that Dumbledore was but a man; a man who might possibly fall the next time he dueled Voldemort. With a fleeting look around the room, the bleak thought finally hit home.

This really is our fight.

With everyone attempting to persuade Professor Dumbledore to join their current conversation, no one in the room took any notice of the black figure that slipped quietly into the kitchen. No one, that is, except Hermione.

Professor Snape was always such an enigma to her. Even now, as she attempted to casually gaze at him, she could not hide the inquisitiveness from her eyes. He looks as tired as Professor Dumbledore.

His greasy black hair tumbled lifelessly on his shoulders, shielding his eyes from everyone in the room. The only facial features visible to Hermione were his prominent nose and high cheekbones. Before she mentally criticized the ashen paleness of his skin, her attention was drawn to the outline of his strong jaw. She lowered her eyes to analyze the rest of him.

Something seemed a bit off about his familiar black robes tonight. Maybe it was his slumped stance against the kitchen counter or the creases it caused in his cloak, but either way, he was not standing in his customary looming manner.

She watched curiously as he rummaged through the various cupboards before pulling out a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky and a small glass tumbler. He tossed his head back as he swigged one… two… three shots of the fiery liquid; Adam’s apple bobbing after each swallow. Entranced, Hermione watched this performance, appreciating the fluidity of his movements.

Suddenly, Snape’s shoulders squared as his body stood rigidly to survey the room.

Hermione jerked back into her chair. But his deep black eyes were too swift, catching her mid-stare. She quickly turned her head back to Dumbledore.

What was I doing?

Before Hermione could find some logical answer to her question, Professor Dumbledore rose out of his seat to begin the proceedings.

“As much as I am enjoying the company of my beloved friends, I believe we should start the meeting.”

The room grew deathly silent as everyone waited for their valued leader to shed light on the grounds for tonight’s meeting.

“You all know that a length of time has passed since the last Order meeting. I wish I could say that nothing dreadful has recently occurred in the name of this war.” The twinkle from his eye slowly faded out before he continued. “But, unfortunately, that is not the case. We have suspected for much of the past year that Voldemort was patiently biding his time before launching a massive and well thought out attack.”

“Who was attacked?”

“Shh, Charlie, let him finish.”

“No, it’s all right, Arthur. Two days ago, there was another mass breakout from Azkaban. The Ministry of Magic, even under the new regime of Scrimgeour, took my warnings lightly and delegated a paltry amount of Aurors as replacements for the Dementors. I believe this is related to the events of last night. I have recently discovered that there has been a mass slaughter of Muggle government officials all across the country.”

Intakes of air could be heard around the dinner table.

“How were they…?” Ginny paled before she could finish her question.

“I’m afraid to say, my dear, that they did not die peacefully in their beds. The entire Muggle community is panicked and distressed from the reports of unrecognizable piles of bloody human tissue and fragments of clothes at the scenes.”

“Sweet Merlin above,” Molly sobbed, grabbing a tea towel to fan her face.

“No lives were spared,” Dumbledore continued gravely, “women, children - the elderly. Anyone and everyone in the target houses were brutally mutilated. In the hopes of counteracting the growing hysteria, the Muggle government is claiming that the descriptions of the bodies are a terrible hoax, stating that the Muggles were shot with Muggle weapons.”

After another silence, the voice of Remus Lupin echoed in the kitchen. “What do you suppose we do about this, Albus?”

“I’m afraid there is nothing we can do about it at the moment, except be on the alert. The memories of a few Muggle investigators were modified to give the Ministry a chance to inspect what remained of the bodies. Dead, rotting tissue was discovered under the fingernails of a few intact hands.”

“Inferi,” Shacklebolt announced knowingly to the room.

Hermione’s face drained of all color as her hands began to visibly shake at this information.

She took no notice of the compassionate hands rested upon hers. “Do you think they will attack the Muggle government again?” questioned Harry.

“No, no, I don‘t believe so. I believe that this was a warning to the Muggle-born community only, not the Muggles themselves. A way of showing them, if you will, that if Tom’s Death Eaters could easily enter the house of Ministry government officials then no Muggle is safe.”

Albus Dumbledore slowly took his seat as he watched the young faces before him fall further into despair.

“Tom’s agenda has begun. I expect him, and his Death Eaters naturally, to now openly target Muggle-borns - and their Muggle relatives to be precise. This is one of the main courses of action he has obsessed over since he came to call himself Lord Voldemort. ”

This was too much.

“Oh, gods, no,” Hermione gasped. Concerned eyes turned towards her.

“Fear not, Miss Granger. Your parents are safely hidden and have been for some time now. I hope you understand my harsh actions of keeping their whereabouts hidden from you.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Professor,” she breathed.

Hermione felt the prickle of tears seize a constricting hold on her throat. But she refused to cry in front of everyone. Straining to maintain her resolve, she continued, “What are we to do now, Professor?”

“Some precautions have already been taken. We will continue to hide as many Muggle parents we can, regardless of the age of their Muggle-born offspring. But, this will take some considerable time. I’m afraid losses are unavoidable.”

“Is this all that Voldemort is planning?” asked an apprehensive Sirius.

“No,” a deep, resonating voice answered from the corner of the kitchen, furthest from the entrance hall doors.

Sirius turned hateful eyes upon the dark shadow against the wall. Of course, leave it to Snape to occupy the one spot in the kitchen untouched by the hearth fire.

“Well, out with it then!” he spat.

“Do refrain from your emotional dramatics, Black,” Snape purred menacingly. “I am confident Potter and company would become quite distressed if you collapsed from a theatrical stroke and died.” Snape’s sneer turned into a satisfied smirk as Sirius’ eyes widened. “Again.”

Hermione visibly flinched as Harry and Ron lurched from their seats, chairs tumbling to the floor.

“Why you greasy bast-”

“That is enough!”

Instantly reprimanded, everyone, save Snape, reluctantly took their seats as the unfamiliar figure of a livid Dumbledore stood before them.

“Inform them now, Severus.”

Snape leaned lazily against the kitchen wall as he slowly drawled, “As you wish, Headmaster.” He then locked eyes with Remus.

“It seems that the Dark Lord is planning to use his unyielding influence over Fenrir Greyback to gather support from additional werewolves in the wizarding community. He wishes for them to… extend… their numbers.” Snape raised his eyebrow in a challenge. “After all, a bitten Muggle relative is far more horrifying then a dead relative.”

“Don’t you dare believe that, Remus,” Harry whispered, as Sirius murderously scrutinized Snape.

“Who’s Fenrir Greyback?” asked Ron.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, but decided to keep silent. No one answered for good reason, but this mattered little to Snape. Plucking a piece of lint from his robe, he said silkily, “I am certain Lupin could answer that.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed before he turned away from the ominous man camouflaged in the dim corner. “He’s a very evil wizard, Ron. As a werewolf himself, he knows how dangerous he is to others whilst transformed. I’m afraid to say that he purposefully places himself in heavily populated neighborhoods every full moon.” Lupin uncomfortably paused, contemplating if he should continue. “Even before he fully transforms, he finds a sick satisfaction in biting his young victims during… while he… ”

“Ravishes them,” Severus finished smugly.

“No,” Harry breathed.

“That’s more then enough, thank you, Severus,” Dumbledore interrupted. “There are still a few other items on the agenda we need to discuss… ”

Expecting the inevitable, Remus cut him off. “What else do you need me to do, Albus?”

Dumbledore smiled sadly at the determined man. “You know I hate to ask this of you again, Remus, but we cannot allow Voldemort’s influence to reign over all the werewolves in the wizarding world.”

“I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait, hold on a second… ”

“Don’t interrupt, Harry.”

“But, Hermione! We can‘t just let him… ”

“No, he has made his decision so don’t you dare make it harder for him. We all have to make decisions.”

“Quite right, Miss Granger, which brings the next order of business to you.”

Hermione felt all color leave her face again, but her neck grew hot as perspiration made her dress uncomfortably sticky. She swallowed twice before she could continue. “Yes, Headmaster?”

“Since we will be hiding the majority of Muggle parents connected to the wizarding community, I would not be surprised if Voldemort tried to assault Muggle-born students at Hogwarts.”

“WHAT?” Ron, Harry and Ginny screamed in unison.

“For heaven’s sake, stop interrupting!” Hermione was getting pretty sick of their attempts to discuss matters before knowing all the facts.

Dumbledore decided to quickly continue during the indignant silence. “So, I would not be surprised if he has already recruited a few loyal followers from within the student population.” He paused to carefully choose his next words.

“I believe you have received your Hogwarts’ letter congratulating you on your appointment as Head Girl?”

“Yes, sir, about that… ”

“Excellent. Then you will appreciate the advantageous opportunity this affords to become my eyes and ears among the students - due to the unlimited access you will have around the castle, and of course, your increased privileges.”

“You mean you want me to spy on them?” Hermione was beyond shocked.

“Yes, I suppose you could look at it that way. You will be given the passwords for all four common rooms and access to hidden passages not mentioned on a certain map.” He smiled over his half-moon glasses.

“No, absolutely not, Professor.”

“This is not your call to make, Harry. I am happy to accept your proposal, Headmaster.”

In truth, Hermione was pretty frightened by the idea. She could not imagine herself stalking around the Slytherin lair in the dead of night where anyone could happen upon her. But now she had a logical reason to keep her Head Girl badge. Plus, she finally felt like she could be of substantial use to the war effort. It was her parents that were in hiding because of this war. It was her family that the Death Eaters wished to kill. And, if given the chance, they would gladly kill her as well.

“Harry’s right, Hermione, this is way too dangerous for you. You can’t be mad enough to… ”

“I understand the danger, Ronald, but it’s still my decision to make. I am not debating this with you.”

Snape examined the uneasy exchange with amused eyes. That is the third time tonight she has snapped at those dunderheaded fools.

He was also surprised at her complete lack of tearful, female hysterics. He himself had made her snivel by making comments far less distressing than those she had been subjected to tonight. My, my, how you have grown, Miss Granger. He sneered after the thought.

“I thank you, Miss Granger. We will, of course, discuss this further when you arrive at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore steadily rose from the armchair at her nod. “It is getting late. I am sure all of you would like to retire for the night. I bid you all a night’s restful sleep.”

“Fine,” Harry spat, springing from the table and storming through the kitchen door.

“I, erm… better go after him,” Ron mumbled uncomfortably.

“I’ll talk to you both tomorrow, Ron, okay?”

“Yeah, night, Hermione.”

Ron, Ginny, Remus and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley slowly exited the kitchen to ascend the stairs to their preferred bedrooms. The twins would be going back to the flat above their shop in Diagon Alley, while Bill and Charlie fancied some sleep at the Burrow. Moody, Tonks and Shacklebolt remained huddled by the fire, each sneaking glances at Hermione during their in depth discussion.

Sensing Hermione’s uneasiness at the exchange, Sirius attempted to draw her out of her discomfort. “I’m sure everything will be all right, Hermione. Dumbledore will guide you every step of the way.”

“I know, Sirius. But I can’t help being a little nervous.”

Casually, Sirius snaked his hand into hers. “If you need anyone to talk to, at any time, you know I’ll always lend an attentive ear.”

She was little taken aback by his forwardness, but Hermione attempted to hide it as best she could. “Thank you, Sirius. I really do appreciate that.”

“Anytime.” He gently squeezed her hand before he continued. “Goodnight, Hermione.”

“Night.” Hermione flushed slightly as the kitchen door closed behind him.

An irritating wave of confusion engulfed her after Sirius left. As she rose from the dinner table to exit the now empty kitchen, Hermione barely noticed the slumped black figure seated on a stool by the kitchen counter; the figure of the dark man who, unbeknownst to her, had perceptively watched her discussion with Sirius through narrowed eyes.

An impulsive idea hit Hermione before she reached the kitchen door.

Shit, Snape internally groaned as he detected her pause. Can’t even get pissed without fucking interruptions.

“Professor?”

“What do you want, Miss Granger? Professor Dumbledore made it perfectly clear that the meeting is now over.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” she replied, as she turned away from the door to look at him. She noticed that the bottle of Ogden’s was a quarter empty now. His lean hand cradled the tumbler between an elegant middle finger and thumb. Again, she could not help but notice the difference between his posture tonight compared to that of the Potions classroom. His black hair hung over his dark eyes. His upper body leaned onto the kitchen counter, weight supported by his elbows and forearms. One tense leg rested bent on the bar running below the counter while the other stretched languidly, heel on the floor. All too late, Hermione realized she was staring at him. Again.

“Well? Are you going to gape at me all night, Miss Granger, or inform me of the reason for your continued unwanted presence?” he barked.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I was just wondering if you could… I mean since I’ll be… since Professor Dumbledore wants me too… ” Hermione nervously fidgeted as she attempted to find her words.

“Out with it, woman! Speak clearly and desist in your incoherent babbling this instant.”

“I… never mind,” she quickly gasped before she escaped through the kitchen doors.

Snape watched Hermione’s robes billow behind her as she fled the kitchen. He pitched his head back, gulping more poison, and smirked as the kitchen door swung furiously on its hinges.

*** *** ***

Relief washed over Hermione when she noticed Ginny’s bed curtains were drawn around her four-poster. She truly did not feel up to being interrogated over the assignment Dumbledore had allotted her. But, the main reason was she knew she looked stressed and agitated from her dialogue with Snape, and she was not prepared to discuss that either.

What was that anyway?

She pulled a nightgown from her chest of drawers as her mind ran away from her. Why did I just stare at him? And why couldn’t I just request his advice on espionage? I made such a fool of myself running out of the kitchen like that.

Pulling the last of the pins from her hair, Hermione drew the curtains around her four-poster before she tugged back the duvet.

Malicious tyrant didn’t even give me a chance to say anything.

Her mind felt hazy as it tried to process too much information at once. She still did not know what to think about the new role expected of her once she returned to Hogwarts.

How on earth am I supposed to spy on anyone? Like the students will just converse about their loyalties to Voldemort in the Great Hall. And passwords to common rooms! I knew the Head Girl and Head Boy need to be aware of them for emergencies, but Professor Dumbledore made it sound like he wants me to regularly visit them.

Hermione needed to explore all the negatives of the situation first. It was just her way. But truthfully, she was more then willing to take on the assignment. She needed to do more for the Order. She needed to feel useful in the fight against Voldemort in some shape or form. But, most importantly, she desperately needed to keep herself busy.

As she slid her favorite goose down pillow between her knees, Hermione’s outlook drifted to the dilemma that was Professor Snape. He had startled her more then usual tonight before she ran out of the kitchen. His body, stance and expressions seemed so foreign to her compared to those she was accustomed to seeing at school.

He had seemed strongly approachable to her.

This might have been the reason she attempted to question him about his double-agent activities right there in the kitchen. But once he spoke, his voice and body emanated the familiar mannerisms of her Potions master.

It did not matter though. Hermione had made up her mind. She would somehow corner Snape and ask him to help her in some shape or form. He is in the Order after all. He would advise me for the sake of the Headmaster.

As Hermione felt her body drift off into sleep, a rather inappropriate realization entered her mind. He hadn’t called her ‘silly little girl’ when he kicked her out of the kitchen.

He had screamed ‘woman’.

Of course, she did not remember this revelation in the morning.

*** *** ***

“You are to stay here until the beginning of term,” Dumbledore said impassively, his voice echoing in the silent entrance hall.

“You must have finally gone senile,” Severus replied. He had his hand on the doorknob, with every intention of leaving this deplorable house as soon as possible.

“Nothing has changed, my boy,” Dumbledore said, as he walked to Severus’ side. “You kept your eyes on him before he came to this house, and you must continue your guard.”

Severus’ face twisted into a disgusted grimace, but he kept his back to the Headmaster.

Both stood there, silently; Dumbledore determined to have his way and Severus unwilling to concede.

Severus finally let his hand fall from the doorknob. Without a word or backward glance, he silently glided up the stairs to find a suitable room.

“Thank you, Severus,” Dumbledore called after him. “I will have your things sent over by morning.”

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Author’s Notes: Many thanks to my beta, melusin, who is dedicated enough to look over my chapters multiple times.

-Thanks for the review, Lucy. :)

-Chapter title taken from John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Book i. Line 22.