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Where Your Loyalties Lie	By : tcg Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 10957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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TITLE: Where Your Loyalties Lie
FANDOM: Harry Potter

AUTHOR: Tater Chip Girl

CHAPTER: 11/?

RATING: NC-17

PAIRINGS: Snape/Hermione, Harry/Ron, Dumbledore/?

WARNINGS: Consensual M/F sex with female age 16 or over; consensual M/M
sex with both males age 16 or over; some strong language and violence.

SUMMARY: The unintentional use of an ancient and powerful spell reveals
an unexpected connec bet between Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. It's
only a matter of time before Lord Voldemort's curiosity drives him to uncover
their secret and turn it to his own advantage. Will Snape's resistance spell
Hermione's doom, or will love win out?

In this chapter: Hermione finally Apparates, and Ron's role in Harry's life is decided.

DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter universe and its characters belong to J.K.
Rowling (A statement by Rowling regarding fan fiction based on her work can
be found here: http://www.scholastic.com/harrypotter/author/transcript2.htm).
No profit is being made from this story and any copyright infringement is
completely unintended. Other characters created for this story are mine and
should not be used in other materials or at other websites without my permission.

ARCHIVE: Yes, but please ask first so I can format properly for your site,
and also link to you.

FEEDBACK: taterchipgirl@ev1.net

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Where Your Loyalties Lie

by Tater Chip Girl

Chapter 11: Connections

Hermione and the Potions Master regarded each other breathlessly in the firelight, the moment unwinding with the studied slowness of a just-awakened snake. What went on behind the girl's huge, surprised eyes, he couldn't begin to know - but in his own mind, one self-recrimination tolled like a bell:

How could I have been so careless?

Severus Snape would not be demanding to know how a sixth-year student had appeared unbidden in his heavily-warded private rooms. He *knew*. He'd known since that night in the hospital wing when he'd used the Lumos Cardia to restore Hermione's strength. But he hadn't counted on something like this happening. There was no time to reflect on the fact that the object of his desire now sat within arm's reach, wearing nothing but a nightgown - right now, more urgent things required tending to. Snape quickly collected himself and advanced until he loomed directly over her.

"Did anyone hear you?"

Hermione just stared up at him in numb disbelief. This was the last reaction she would have expected.

Snape leaned forward and peered at her intently. "Did ... anyone ... *hear* you?" He spoke slowly, enunciating each word. When Hermione still saothiothing, he stepped back and signaled her to rise. "Stand up and answer me."

Hermione obeyed shakily, her eyes still fixed on his face. "Hear me?"

Snape's lips tightened with exasperation. "Yes, *hear* you, Miss Granger. As you're well aware, Apparation *is* accompanied by a rather noticeable noise."

Hermione sucked in a breath. "I *Apparated*?"

"Obviously," he snapped crossly. "Hence my question, which you *still* have not answered." Snape raised his eyebrows and prompted her with another gesture.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. "I don't know ... I was in my bed - "

"In your *bed* ... Merlin save us ... " Snape muttered, shaking his head. He moved swiftly to the wall and drew something dark and flat from between two books on a shelf. Hermione followed as he carried it to one of the tables arranged near the fireplace and gently laid it down. Her eyes brightened with recognition when the dancing light revealed a large disk of what looked like highly polished black glass.

"A scrying mirror!" she said in an awed whisper. "I've read about those - "

"I'm sure you have," Snape interrupted distractedly, moving his hand palm-down in a circular motion over the dark surface. "But now is *not* the time to discuss it."

The surface of the mirror grew cloudy, then clear, then changed into a sharp, familiar-looking view of several curtained bedsteads. Heads, obviously young and female, peeped out of some of them to cautiously scan their surroundings. Their mouths moved as they spoke to each other, but Hermione heard no voices. She suddenly realized, after a moment of staring, why she knew this room.

"That's my dormitory!"

"Be quiet!" Snape hissed. His eyes were closed now, his circling hand slowing as his lips moved in silent incantation. Hermione leaned in for a better look, and watched as the heads of the awakened girls withdrew, one by one, behind their respective bed curtains, and did not reappear. Snape continued until his hand was stationary, and the mirror had once again become a featureless black pool. He lowered his head to breathe a sigh of relief, then whirled abruptly to face Hermione. The look on his face made him all the more sinister in the flickering orange light, causing her to take a few fearful steps backwards.

"As you saw," he began, his voice tight with barely-contained anger, "your activities caused somewhat of a stir among your roommates. However, the timely use of memory modification and a strong sleeping spell has contained a potentially dangerous situation. The girls will sleep until morning and remember nothing, thus giving you ample time to return to your bed undetected."
UnsuUnsure how to respond, Hermione merely gulped and nodded. She was scared to death, Snape could see that, and bursting with uncomfortable questions he did not wish to answer. Her terrified face made him realize that he'd been wrong to allow his anger to surface. Great care was required here in order to keep things under control - calming them both down was the first logical step. He snapped his fingers, and dressing gowns appeared over their nightclothes.

"Thanks," she whispered, not looking at him as she pulled the dark velvet more snugly against herself.

Snape seated himself in one of the chairs before the fireplace, indicating silently that Hermione should take the other. She did so, and waited tensely as Snape sat with his head down, steepled fingertips slowly tapping his pursed lips as he sorted out what to say next. Only the end of his nose showed between the twin curtains of black hair that fell forward to conceal his face.

Snape knew there was no explaining away what had just happened here. As he saw it, his only choices were to tell her everything, or tell her nothing. After an interminable pause, he finally cleared his throat and looked up into the fire. Hermione thought she saw (though she told herself she must be imagining it) a touch of fear in his carefully composed features.

"I should tell you, in all fairness," he began cautiously, "that my anger was directed towards myself, and not you." He cleared his throat again and went on. "Had I been more vigilant in my instruction, this would never have happened. Therefore, you are not at fault. The responsibility is entirely mine."

"But how - " Hermione hesitated, expecting to be hushed, but Snape said nothing. "How did I get into your private rooms? I don't even know where - "

"All you need know," he cut in, "is that yucceuccessfully Apparated. Beyond that, the subject is off limits. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" He looked directly at her now, his dark eyes commanding her attention. "Needless to say," he added, "I do *not* expect to see you in my rooms again."

"Yes, sir," she whispered reluctantly, her next question dying on her lips. Though his expression left no doubt that he meant what he said, she could barely rein in her curiosity. Snape was definitely hiding something important from her, and she couldn't help thinking it had something to do with the elusive Geminus, whatever *that* was. The connection was logical - after all, it was the only thing for which her hours of research had turned up nothing.

"Very well, then." Snape's voice cut into her thoughts as he rose and straightened his dressing gown. "Other matters demand our attention. Stand up. I want you to Apparate to me." He backed up a few paces, then signaled to her. "Now."

Hermione stood, but stayed where she was. "What about the noise?"

"No one will hear. Do it now, in the same manner that caused you to arrive here."

Closing her eyes, Hermione took a few deep breaths and concentrated, reaching back into her mind for the pinpoint of light that had brought her to these hidden rooms. Instantly, she felt the familiar vibration that always announced Snape's proximity, and opened her eyes to find herself standing directly before him - this time not struggling to keep her balance. If Snape was at all impressed by this, he gave no sign, ordering her without further comment to Apparate to and from half a dozen different spots around the room, which she did with complete success.

"Now that we're assured of younsisnsistency," he said when she'd reappeared next to her chair, "you must learn to Apparate with your eyes open."

"Why?"

"Because, Miss Granger," Snape replied somewhat impatiently, "one's safety upon arrival cannot be guaranteed, especially one such as yourself, given your current precarious situation. The ability to clearly and immediately perceive one's new surroundings is invaluable, and could one day save your lifeot; ot; He beckoned her to begin. "The effect can be quite disorienting for one unaccustomed to it, so choose your spot carefulquotquot;

Hermione nodded, fixed her eyes on the lapel of Snape's dressing gown, and went to him. This time, she did lose her balance - only his quick reflexes kept her from falling backwards. She blinked a few times, making sure that everything was still solid around her. He was right - the transition had looked to her like a badly rendered abstract painting, with colors running together and swirling around her, taking away all seof sof space and direction.

"So *that's* why you make me wear the blindfold when we go to lessons."

"Exactly." Snape gingerly released her and stepped back a pace or two. "You'll eventually get used to the sensation, and be unaffected by it. For now, you may find it helpful to picture a featureless tunnel running directly from yourself to your intended destination. Try again."

Using Snape's suggestion, it took only two more attempts until she was able to move about with no trouble. "It really works!" she laughed after her fifth successful open-eyed Apparation. Snape's only response to this was a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"As to the issue of noise ... " he continued, as if nothing had happened, "If you wish to Apparate soundlessly, simply invoke the Dome of Silence immediately beforehand. The Dome will follow you and remain in effect until recalled."

Hermione remembered Dumbledore using the spell in the hospital wing. "Tholus Silentium," she whispered, and appeared noiselessly at Snape's side. Her proud grin quickly gave way to a furrowed brow, and she stood like this for a few seconds, as if working out some weighty problem in her mind. In answer to Snape's questioning look, Hermione started to speak, forgetting that he was unable to hear her. Then she blushed and pointed upward with an embarrassed shrug - she'd forgotten the words that removed the Dome of Silence. With a pained sigh, Snape flicked his hand, and the glowing words "Tholus Emovetis" appeared in midair where Hermione could see them.

"Sorry," she whispered when the Dome was gone.

"Tomorrow's lesson will be a continuation of what we've done here tonight," he snapped, "so I suggest you hone your memorization skills."

Hermione blushed more deeply and looked down at her feet.

"In the meantime, you must return to your dormitory. And Miss Granger ... "

She forced herself to meet Snape's stony gaze.

"I cannot warn you strongly enough that you are not to attempt another Apparation on your own. It is imperative that you do so only under my direct supervision. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, then." With a whisk of his hand, he dismissed her. "You may go."

Holding in mind a clear image of her curtained bed, Hermione once again invoked the Dome, and was gone.

Snape stood for a long while staring at the spot where she'd vanished, his vision blurring as he finally gave himself over to the flood of images and emotions he'd barely managed to hold in. Magical or not, he was still a man, and as such was naturally inflamed by thoughts of doing what men do with young and desirable females. But being first and foremost a wizard, his mind dwelled mainly upon something no Muggle man could ever experience - the feel of soft skin pressed against his own as the raw power of the Geminus raced unchecked through body and mind, working upon them its ancient and inevitable will.

At last, shaking loose from his reverie, he went to bed and carefully dosed himself with his most potent sleeping draught. As the potion took effect, he suddenly remembered that Hermione was still wearing his dressing gown - a thought that both pleased and frightened him.

In the stillness of a certain Gryffindor boys' dormitory, wishful dreams of Quidditch glory were cut short as a familiar coldness slithered stealthily through the mind of Ron Weasley, roiling his guts and shoving him unceremoniously into consciousness. He lay still, listening and waiting. A few seconds later, the first muffled moans reached him from behind Harry's bed curtains - the beginnings of yet another nightmare. Ron got up, shuffled sleepily over in his stocking feet, and pulled the curtains aside to find Harry gripping the covers and tossing from side to side, mumbling incoherently.

"Harry." Ron bent down and cautiously placed a hand over his friend's mouth. "Harry, wake up", he whispered a bit more loudly, giving him a gentle shake with his free hand.

The tossing continued, and Ron shook him again, harder this time. Harry jerked awake and sat up, his hands groping blindly in the dark. One of them collided with Ron's arm, which he locked onto with a death grip.

"Harry!" Ron hissed at him. "It's me, it's Ron!"

Harry went still and blinked owlishly at the shadowy face-shaped blur before him, finally understanding it was that of his friend, and not some nightmare vision. Ron removed his hand from Harry's mouth.

"Did I ... " Harry stopped and tried to collect himself, slow down his breathing. "Did I make any noise?"

Ron shook his head. "No, I got here in time", he whispered back. "Now let go my arm, you're making it numb." He wiggled the arm in question, and Harry released it.

"Sorry."

"S'alright. Move over."

Harry scooted to the middle of the bed, and a yawning Ron slipped in beside him. In a long-established routine, Ron held out an arm, and Harry rolled closer, resting his head on Ron's shoulder as he relaxed against his comforting warmth. They lay this way for some time, until Harry's breathing and heartbeat had gone back to normal.

"It was him again, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded against Ron's shoulder, his eyes closed. "Yeah."

Ron's thumb rubbed absently at Harry's shoulder. "So what's Vol - the old sod up to this time?"

Harry sighed heavily before answering. He really didn't want to talk about it. Though it had faded considerably in the last few minutes (as he'd known it would), the deathly chill of his mental contact with Voldemort still crawled sickeningly through his body. He just wanted to forget.

"He's looking for someone," he finally said, knowing Ron wouldn't leave it at that.

"Who?"

"I don't know. I've never heard of them." Harry sighed again and draped an arm over Ron's chest. "I just want to go back to sleep."

"C' you you promised." Ron gave his friend a quick squeeze. "Tell me, and I'll shut up."

Harry mumbled something unintelligible into Ron's shoulder.

"What? Can't hear you."

"I said, that'll be the day."

Under the covers, Ron kicked Harry's shin. "Be serious."

"Ow!" Harry sucked in a breath. "You don't have to get violent."

"And you don't have to be a smart arse", Ron whispered back. "Now tell me the rest of it. Who's he looking for?"

"Like I said, I never heard of them. Someone called Geminus."

"Geminus ... " Ron whispered to himself with a puzzled frown. "Who could *that* be?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But whoever it is, they really scare him."

"Scare the likes of him? They're alright in *my* book, then ... whoever they are." Ron shifted a bit, making himself more comfortable. "Maybe it's Dumbledore," he mused. "He's the only one the old sod's afraid of."

"I don't think so," Harry yawned. "He wouldn't be trying to find Dumbledore - he already *knows* where he is. Besides, he'd call him by his name, wouldn't he?"

"Yeah, I s'pose he would."

The boys fell silent again, and Harry's breathing grew deeper and slower, his body gradually relaxing as he settled back into sleep. Ron lay awake, letting his thoughts drift back to the summer holidays, the last month of which Harry had spent at the Burrow. The mysterious changes that had taken place during that time had brought him and Harry closer than ever - though not as close as he would have liked.

I wish I could tell him, but I don't know how ...

Once, he'd thought he had feelings for Hermione, but the passage of time had made it clear to him that his true affections lay elsewhere. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to believe that someone like Harry would ever want him as more than a friend. After all, he was the Boy Who Lived, and rich and handsome as well. Finding a partner would never be a problem for him, so why would he bother with a poor nobody like Ron Weasley?

Oh, stop ... he doesn't care about that. He's my best friend. I'm his Secret Keeper - that's *something*, isn't it?

Ron tightened his arm around Harry and buried his nose in the perpetually-mussed black hair. He knew the nightmares were hard on Harry, but in an odd way, Ron looked forward to them. Only then was he able to hold him, breathe him in like this, enjoy the soothing vibration that thrummed deliciously through them both. This last was one of the things they'd discovered, quite by accident, over the summer. They felt it always when they were together, and most strongly when they touched. Neither of them knew its precise nature, but they knew without a doubt that it was good - it was the only thing that made Harry feel better after one of his nightmares.

Ron's eyes flew open in sudden realization as his mind was catapulted six years back to the day they'd met. He remembered the warm shock of looking into Harry's eyes for the first time, and how the sensation had spread all through him like warm treacle. Sitting next to him on the Hogwart's Express had felt inexplicably good, as if all was right in the world, and only the two of them existed. What he felt now was all those things, but -

It's always been there! All these years ... how could I not *notice*?

He lay awake for a while, listening to Harry's breathing and thinking of all that had passed between them during his stay at the Weasley home. No one knew about any of it - they'd agreedkeepkeep it between themselves, thought neither of them could explain why. For some reason, it just seemed like the right thing to do. That was when Harry had made Ron his Secret Keeper. A wave of emotion washed through him - Ron tightened his arm around Harry and fervently kissed his forehead.

I'll take care of you, I swear. I'll die before I let that old sod get near you again.
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Where Your Loyalties Lie