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Amphitrite	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 9422 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
Cyrus was fuming.� �How many more
muggles are we going to invite onto this site?�

�We�ll worry about that later,� Draco Malfoy said, his voice sharp and
commanding.� �If this muggle
has information about my father it�s worth the risk.�

�You say that now,� Cyrus grumbled, �but when we have a thousand
reporters and their helicopters bearing down on us��

�It�s not going to happen,� Dawn spoke up, annoyed.

Cyrus gave up.� Muttering to
himself, he altered the wards with Essah.� �All right,� he said in a clipped voice, �you
can pass.�

The dark-skinned wizard was the first to move.� He was not tall but not short, with a neat
beard and a proud bearing.� �Come,
Cecil,� he said, beckoning, �it�s all right.�

The muggle, a taller man with a blond
comb-over and ruddy skin, stepped forward hesitantly.� He jumped as the wards scanned him and
several people had to stifle laughter behind their hands.� The joke at his expense was short-lived; his
wizard companion shot them a cold look and somehow they all felt chastened.

�What in the hell?� the muggle, Cecil,
stated.

�Questions later, my friend,� the wizard said.� �My name is Mehmet.� I am an excavator at Troy
and incidentally, I also do security at the School of Divination.�

�Troy?�
Draco said.� �As in�The Iliad and Achilles and Trojan horses?�

Hermione glanced at him.� She
wouldn�t have expected Malfoy to be familiar with the
writings of a muggle, even if Homer was an
exceptional one.� Maybe he, too, had done
his research before he came to Greece.

�That�s the one,� Mehmet said with a brief
smile.� �This is Cecil, an associate of
mine.�� Cecil raised a nervous hand in
greeting.� He still looked completely out
of sorts, but he was handling it better than some might have.

�So you have information about my father?� Draco
pressed.

Mehmet nodded.�
�Are you planning on interrogating us right here?�� His question held equal parts amusement and
challenge.� He was calling them on their
rudeness.

Hermione saw Draco�s fists clench at his
sides.� He wanted no part in
protocol.� She could tell that he didn�t
like Mehmet.� Draco never liked anyone who could stay calm in the face of
things that sent him into shambles.� She
glanced at Severus.�
His face was blank but his eyes were rapidly sizing their visitors up.

�I�m sure we can get these men a drink,� Dawn said diplomatically.� �Come with me.�� The two men followed her down the sandy
shore.� Severus
shook his head as Cecil nearly tripped, so distracted was he by the things he
was seeing.� Hermione squeezed his hand;
he returned to her and offered a faint smile.�

Draco had already stalked past him, as had Cyrus and Essah, the former still cursing under his breath about
security breaches.� They were alone.

Though reality had descended, her body was still tight and warm in all
the places he�d been.� Hermione had no
time to process what had happened; Draco had
literally knocked on the door less than five minutes after they�d reached their
sweaty completion.� She was staring into
his eyes, dark and depthless and surprisingly vulnerable, feeling him throb
inside her�

She bit her lip.� She liked
sex.� Who didn�t, when it was done
right?� But Hermione had never been the
sort of person who needed it all the time.�
Once in a while her body reminded her that it had base instincts, thank
you very much, and she would act on them if it was possible.� Usually that was enough.� Usually.

Right now, in spite of their visitors and whatever news they bore, she
wanted to do it again.� She had not had
the time to look at him, touch him, find out what pleased him�and she didn�t
regret their haste, but she longed to have the time alone to do those
things.� Hermione didn�t want to admit
it, yet part of her knew what had driven that haste.� With things the way they were, it was likely
that they�d have very little time for this fledgling relationship.� She knew that that was half the reason he�d
given in to her advances � it was half the reason she�d made them.

She turned toward him.� The fact
that he hadn�t moved meant that he, too, was lost in thought.� She reached up and touched his face.� He disguised a slight start and met her eyes.

Hermione wanted to say something.�
She wanted to speak words of comfort, of seduction, of anything�but her
mind and her mouth would not cooperate.�
His eyes seemed to know this.� It
was she who had to disguise a start when his hands came up to her face and his
lips descended upon hers.

His kiss was slow and deliberate.�
His lips plied hers, teasing, asking.�
He was a good kisser, that much she�d come to know.� There was something different in this kiss,
though; something heavier, something more meaningful.� Something that made her
knees unreliable.

His arms snuck around her, pulling her against his body.� She could still feel his heartbeat, not yet
calm from their previous lovemaking.� A
surge of arousal hit her and she parted her lips with a helpless little
moan.� My God�she would never have
predicted that Severus Snape
would be the man to turn her legs to jelly and her loins into a conflagration
of want.

His tongue dipped between her lips, seeking its counterpart.� His every move seemed calculated to undo
her.� Though she could tell that it was
undoing him as well; his body was stirring against her and the tickle of his
breath came faster.

He broke the kiss a moment later.�
She leaned against his chest, breathless.� If she was not mistaken, that had been a
promise.� A promise that they would one
day have the time to explore each other properly, but now was not that time.�

She felt his chin resting lightly on the crown of her head.� His hand was gently fisted in the curls at
the back of her neck.� Any question she
might have had about this, about him, evaporated.� Moments like this, where words and minds were
flummoxed in the face of sheer rightness, were few and far between in life.

She was standing on a beach in Greece, curled in the arms of Severus Snape.� A sliver of moonlight illuminated them and
the stars were bright in the wake of the city�s unresolved blackout.� The ocean lapped at the shore, soft and
insistent; it formed the sound of the white noise inside her brain.�

He was man she had once known and was coming to know again by a
different route.� A man
who had, in the past, frustrated her to no end.� Now he was provoking a different kind of
frustration in her.� It went to show just
how much things had changed.� The world
had taken much from her but now it seemed that in this enigmatic lover it was
paying her back for her patient endurance.

She looked up at him.� His eyes
were far away.� For a moment she wished
that she had learned Legilimency.� In his unguarded eyes she saw a hundred
things; fear, pain, uncertainty, defiance, resolve.� She realized how little she really knew about
him.� What sparked those things?� What storms went on in his brain?

He registered that she was observing him and slipped back from whatever
place he�d gone.� Severus
looked down at her.� Hermione once again
felt the urge to speak.� However, she
didn�t trust what might tumble out.� So
she stared at him, not realizing that her mouth was hanging open.

He touched her cheek and said softly, �Use your words, my dear.�

She wanted to hit him and embrace him at the same time.� An absurd smile found its way onto her
face.� Hermione laughed, unsure why tears
had sprung into her eyes.� She sniffled
once and swiped at her eyes.

�I just hope you can back up the claims of that kiss,� she goaded.

He fought a smile.� �Hermione, I
would throw you down right now, but��

But there were more important things at hand.� She nodded.�
They had to resume normal life � that life where they were colleagues in
the middle of a big pantheonic mess.� Still, they would not grudge her holding his
hand on the walk back to the camp�if he let her.

He did.� He even lifted their
hands to kiss the back of her palm at one point.� But when they got closer his fingers untwined
from hers and his whole demeanor changed.�
Severus Snape was
ready for business.

She sighed internally.� He was so
used to being two different things at once.�
He had already exceeded her expectations, cracking easily and allowing
himself to enter into an undefined relationship with a former student.� Snape was changing
even now.� Still, it would be a long,
long time before he was comfortable letting the rest of the world lay eyes on
his affairs.� She was going to have to
try very hard not to be offended by that.�
It wasn�t because he was ashamed of her�

Hermione took a cleansing breath and steeled herself.� The romantic interlude was over.

Two figures stood on the sand, watching the odd pair in the distance.

�I must hand it to you,� the man said, stroking his chin.� �You have really worked your magic on them.�

The woman turned to him.� He
would never cease to be struck by her beauty; even he wasn�t immune to the
charms of Aphrodite.� She smiled and
shook her head.

�Ares, I had nothing to do with this.�

His face registered his doubt.�
�You�re lying.�

�No.� They found each other.�

He couldn�t help it; he was a cynic.�
�There�s no way she would give a man like him the time of day, short of
your intervention.�

Aphrodite snorted at him.� As undignified
as it was, she could do it in a way that was attractive.� �You only focus on looks, Ares, and that�s
your problem.�

�You�re lucky you look the way you do, or else I wouldn�t put up with
you,� he grumbled.� They both knew he
wasn�t serious.� �But if it�s not them
you�re toying with, then why are you coming down here?�

She frowned.� �You know how
sometimes a man searches so long and hard for the right person that when he
finds them, he doesn�t even know it?� Or
maybe he doesn�t even realize he�s looking?�

�No,� he said sarcastically.� She
sometimes went on tangents like this and he had found that it was best to
ignore them.� He knew war.� The workings of love didn�t compute.

�All right.� Then
do you know how sometimes two people are perfect for each other, and everyone
else can see it except them?�

�No.� Love is not that
complicated.� Either you are or you
aren�t and if it passes you by it�s your own damn fault!�

�You�re an idiot,� she responded.�
�Go talk to Athena about battleaxes or something.�

When Anatole woke up his head was
throbbing.� It hurt so badly that he felt
like he might be sick.� He breathed
unevenly, trying his best to exercise willpower over his roiling stomach.� The pain made his eyes fuzzy, too, but he
could make out Nick�s still form next to him.

�Nick,� he whispered hoarsely.�
�Nick!�

Nick didn�t move.� The thought of
him possibly being dead or very badly injured made its way into his brain.� It overrode his control and he felt saliva
filling his mouth.� He was going to be
sick.

He was a moment later, turning away from his friend.� There wasn�t much in his stomach but that
didn�t stop his body from trying its damnedest to flush it out.� When the heaving subsided he shakily wiped
his mouth.

�Sorry about that,� a voice echoed sharply in the room, bombarding his
ears.� �Some people don�t respond well to
the tranquilizers.�

Anatole tried to see his visitor � his captor � but the
room was dark and his vision was still not cooperating.� His stomach didn�t feel any better,
either.� He felt like vomiting again.

�What did you do to him?� he managed, gesturing at Nick.

�Nothing.� He�ll
wake up soon.�

�Nothing?� Anatole
demanded.� He held up his hands.� They were bound together tightly with a thick
plastic fastening ring.� �This isn�t nothing!�

�It will be nothing if all goes to plan.�

�What plan?�� Anatole
struggled to his knees.� �We aren�t going
to be part of any plan!�

The man stepped forward suddenly and Anatole
recoiled, instinctually recognizing aggression.�
That reaction saved him from the man�s fist.� The man was still, looking him straight in
the face.� Though the edges of his eyes
were still blurred, Anatole could see him now.� He was some interesting mix of ethnicities,
his skin dark but freckled, with dark blue eyes that slanted slightly.

The stalemate lasted only a moment.�
Anatole had nowhere to go and the other man
knew it.� He lashed out again and this
time he made contact.� It was too painful
to be his fist.� As Anatole
hit the ground he realized it was the butt of a gun.� The warm creeping sensation on his temple
told him that it had drawn blood.

The man cocked the gun at his face.�
�Any more questions or grand declarations, Mr. Vasoulas?�

Anatole considered kicking him or spitting on him.� He was brave enough to do it.� Still, this man looked much too comfortable
with a gun in his hand and he knew that in situations like this they always
took two people for a reason.� One
hostage was disposable.� Anatole closed his eyes and shook his head.�

Live today, fight
tomorrow,
he thought.� If we
can�

I�m so thirsty that my mouth hurts.�
Since Prometheus�s visit I�ve been alone.� I can�t say how many hours have passed.� He�s playing psychological games with
me.� I doubt very much that he
understands what sort of thing he�s entering into. �I am good at psychological games.� I smile, ignoring the sharp protest my
cracked lips give.

My smile fades when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.� Someone is here.� I can�t turn to see who it is.� I seek control and clutch it.

The intruder doesn�t waste time.�
A form comes into view, shrouded in a silver-grey cloak.� Delicate hands push the hood back.� My eyes widen; she is beautiful.� Her features bear a strong resemblance to
someone else - Apollo.� She is like all
of him made feminine.� Except for that
regal arrogance; that is the same.

�Artemis?�

She smiles so briefly that I think I might have imagined it.� �They are coming with Veritaserum.�

Of course they are.� I�m almost
relieved.� With the Veritaserum
they�ll realize that I don�t know what they think I do.� Although that would render me useless; that
could end badly.� I frown.� Artemis reaches into her sleeve and pulls
something out.� It is a tiny sachet.

�If you eat this you will be able to resist its effects.�

�Why do I need to?� I ask.� �I
don�t know what they think I know!�

�Yes you do,� she replies.� �They
want to know the location of your dig.� The location of the school.�

My face falls.� Shit, I do know
that.� �What do they want from the
school?�� My eyes narrow.� �You�re keeping things from me.�

She looks annoyed.� �Are you
going to eat it or not?�

I sigh.� I won�t get any answers
from her.� This does let me know,
however, that there is something hugely important in that school.� If these people have designs on it, it puts
every person there in danger.

�Fine.� Yes.�

She hurriedly opens the sachet.�
Inside it is a paper thin slice of something the color of honey.� It is only slightly bigger than her
thumbnail.� She places it on the pad of
her pointer finger and starts to bring it toward my mouth.� It feels strange to be fed like this, but my
odd discomfort is banished when it touches my tongue.

It�s the sweetest thing I�ve ever tasted.� Sweeter than Dawn�s � no, I won�t go
there.� Not now.� My mouth is overwhelmed.� It feels the way it does when you eat
something extremely sour, only there is nothing sour about this.� It lasts only a few seconds.� The heady aftertaste lingers and I blink away
mysterious, reflexive tears.

�What was that?� I manage.� My
head is spinning.

�Ambrosia.�

I scrabble for coherent thoughts.�
I remember some mythology.� Enough
to know that ambrosia was the food of the gods and that if mortals were exposed
to it, it made them immortal.� That was
the blessing and the curse of Achilles; his mother had dipped him in ambrosia,
making him impervious to death everywhere except the ankle she held him
by.� Slytherins
appreciate that kind of irony.

�Does that mean�?� I ask, dazed.�
I am no Voldemort.� I don�t want to be immortal.� I don�t trust myself not to stray back into
madness in the grip of forever.� And as
horrifically sentimental as it is, I also don�t want to watch the few people I
care about grow old and die, leaving me with no one.

�No,� she says slowly.� Her
flawless face is thoughtful.� �It will
make you immune to any magic for a time.�

I nod, more relieved than I can express.� She smiles at me in earnest this time.� I think that somehow I�ve gained her
favor.� Then footsteps begin to echo
outside the dingy room, moving closer with each passing second.� She reaffixes her hood and makes to leave.

�Are you playing this game with the others?� I ask, flexing my hands
against my bonds.� No luck; they aren�t
magical.

The look in her eyes tells me that she knows exactly what I�m getting
at.� However, all she says is, �I�m a hunter,
Lucius.� I
don�t play games.�

After his initial resistance, Mehmet had
gotten right down to business.� He,
Cecil, Draco, Dawn, Cyrus, Hermione, and Severus sat intently around one of the long meal tables in
heated discussion.

�These people were definitely after him.� They didn�t take anyone else.� And they made a point of asking Cecil where Malfoy had come from or was trying to go to.� It has something to do with this site,� Mehmet concluded.

�And now they know where it is,� Cyrus sighed, rubbing his temples.

Mehmet was a shrewd man; Severus
suspected that if he was ever sorted he�d end up in Ravenclaw
or Slytherin.�
He confirmed this a moment later when he asked, �What do you have here
that they want?�

Everyone was silent.� Only he and
Cyrus knew the answer to that.

�It�s just a school,� Dawn spoke up.�
�We haven�t found anything of note, except maybe a werewolf preserved in
stasis for two thousand years.�

�And an ancient pensieve,� Hermione added.

�A werewolf from the time of the Greeks?� Mehmet
looked floored.� �It is alive?�

�Yes,� Dawn answered.� �She is
alive.�

Mehmet shook his head.�
�While that is amazing, I can�t imagine how it would relate.�

Severus felt Cyrus�s eyes on him.� He met them and nodded briefly.� It was time to impart the secret upon a few
more people.� �We fear that she is
exactly what they want,� he spoke up softly.�
All eyes turned to him, Hermione�s quickest of all.

�What do you mean?� Mehmet asked sharply.

�Some of us have had a look into that ancient pensieve
Hermione mentioned.� What we�ve seen
inside is a war.� A war
that began because of a potion.��
Several people opened their mouths to speak at once.� They were silenced with a jerk of his
hand.� �The original purpose of the
potion was to cure lycanthropy.� But the
creator went too far.� He�he accidentally
created a potion that could strip all magic from the user.�

�That�s possible?� Draco asked, aghast.

�Apparently,� Snape nodded gravely.� �Now, this man happened to be a surrogate
father to our werewolf.� He was trying to
cure lycanthropy because of her.� Even
though it would take away all her magic, he wanted her to decide whether to
take it or not.�

�The problem was,� Cyrus stated, �that other people wanted this potion
for very different reasons.�

�Hence the war,� Mehmet nodded.

�The point is, he told her the formulation of
the potion before he died.� Every other
memory or record of it was erased.� That
werewolf is the only one who knows how to make the potion.�

�How could they know about this if it was two thousand years ago?�
Cecil asked.� He had been lost for most
of the conversation but was starting to get over his initial disbelief.

�No idea,� Severus shrugged.

�But both muggles and wizards are involved?�
Dawn asked, frowning.

�Yes.� The force that attacked
the School of Divination was composed of both.�

�Why would they involve muggles?�

�That�s simple,� Cecil spoke up.�
�If I understand you correctly, muggles are
people like me.� People
without magic.�� They all
nodded.� �Then it�s obvious.� You people can do magic.� Magic.� It seems like nothing to you, but for us�it�s
terrifying.� You can do whatever you want
to us if you feel the urge, and we�d be powerless to stop you.� You�re a threat.�

�They can�t realistically think that the wizards they are working with
don�t know that,� Severus stated.� �And we have no designs on muggle sovereignty.�

Draco shot to his feet and paced.� �They�re both using the other.� The muggles are
trying to get the formula from the wizards so they can take our magic
away.�� He glanced at Cecil.� �Neutralize the threat, as you say.� And the wizards are trying to use the muggles to make the potion into a weapon.� That way they can take away the magic of
anyone who stands up to them.� They�re
trying to take over the world with muggles to do the
dirty work.�

Hermione exhaled through pursed lips.�
It sounded so awful when he said it like that.� �That can�t be true.�

�I think he�s right,� Severus announced.

�As do I,� Mehmet seconded.� �It makes sense.�

Draco cracked his knuckles, still nervously prowling
across the sand.� �If Cecil already told
them about Preveza, then what do they need my father
for?�

�Persuasion, of course,� Mehmet replied.� �Someone to exchange for
the girl.��

Draco sat back down and abruptly put his forehead
against the table.� Hermione felt like
doing the same thing.

�So, sooner or later,� Cyrus said, �we will have some unpleasant muggles and wizards knocking on our wards.�

Dawn frowned.� �We�re fenced
in.� Either way, we lose.�

�That�s it,� Hermione declared, thumping her palm on the table.� �We have to erase Lilith�s
memory of the potion.�

�No!� Snape exclaimed a little too quickly.

�She�s right, Snape.� It�s too risky.� That formula has already started one war,�
Cyrus disagreed.

�No,� he repeated, shaking his head.�
�That formulation is the best chance we have of ever curing
lycanthropy.�

�There�s no guarantee that it�s still brewable,�
Hermione pointed out.� �In two thousand
years ingredients may have changed names or gone extinct.� This might all be for nothing!�� She knew he was fighting his intellectual
curiosity; truth be told, she was fighting it, too.� She was also sure that this was what he had
meant when he said he had to tell her something.� Boy was she glad they�d put it off�

�You can erase her memory,� the potions master said sternly, �but only
after I have heard that formula.�

�That doesn�t solve the problem.�
It only puts you in danger instead of her!�

�And they�ll still want to take her.�
They�ll still be holding my father hostage,� Draco
added.

Hermione bit her tongue.� She
wanted to remind Severus of his own words � that some things were better left undiscovered.� Of course, he�d said that before he came to
know that the school�s great secret was a potion.� If he had known it was a potion all his
rhetoric about discipline and what was better would have gone out the
window.� Severus
Snape was intrigued by the premise of such a potion
existing, and if she knew him at all, he wanted to try to brew it.� Improve it.�
Make it a true cure.� And if she
knew him, there would be no talking him out of it.

�I think we need Remus and Lilith out here,� Dawn said.� �Now.�

No one disagreed.

They feel the need to manhandle me before administering the Veritaserum.� For a
wizard this Prometheus is a little too fond of fists.� I�ll take them, though.� Fists are infinitely better than the Cruciatus.�

If what Artemis said is true, the Cruciatus
shouldn�t do a thing to me.� I won�t let
them know that.� I can act like I�m being
put through the worst pain of my life quite easily; I�ve experienced it before
and it isn�t hard go back there.

A sharp, vicious peel of pain startles me out of my planning.� They�ve knocked the wind out of me and my
mind descends into a spiral of panic.�
After a minute I am capable of drawing breath.� Every move hurts; they may have broken a rib
or two.

I catch a glimpse of Prometheus through the stocky figures of his
thugs.� He is watching me closely.� Maybe he is surprised that I�m not putting up
a fight � not that I can do much but glare at them.� More likely he is wondering at my ability to
take punishment.� It is not something you
want to have, but once you do you are glad of it.

One of them grabs me by the hair and tilts my head back.� Prometheus dumps the potion down my
throat.� I manage to spit half of it out,
but the rest is going down whether I like it or not.� Coughing, I fix them with my best glare.� I know the Veritaserum
won�t do a thing and I am going to enjoy acting my fine little arse off.

Slowly the men release me.�
Prometheus paces.� Then, apparently
deciding that enough time has gone by for the potion to go into effect, he
stops in front of me.

�Where is the dig site, Malfoy?�

I know how to play this.� I
definitely haven�t lost my touch for acting.�
I deserve one of those � what do the muggles
call them?� Ottos?� Oscars?�
Whatever.�
I scrunch up my face as if I am trying very hard to resist.� My body is already worked up from absorbing
the most recent round of physical abuse, so the sweat and the pallor work in my
favor.

�Greece,�
I grind out.� Veritaserum
has its perks, but if one asks vague questions, they get vague answers.� I�m rewarded with a very unforgiving fist to
the face.� I can�t control an exclamation
of pain; he�s hit me in a place that is already injured.� My head swims with a wicked, throbbing agony
that I feel to the roots of my teeth.

�You�re clever, Malfoy, but it�s not doing
you any favors,� he scowls.� �Now, tell
me the name of the city that the dig site is located in.�

I hesitate a second, to see if �Preveza�
wants to come to my lips.� No.� I have no helpless compulsion to be
truthful.� I almost want to laugh.� I have never been so glad to lie in my life,
and that�s saying a lot.

So where to send them?� What
lovely destination to delay their dubious purposes?� It has to be in Greece.� I don�t know many places off the top of my
head and I can�t say Athens.� There are too many people in Athens that Prometheus
would be only too happy to kill if they stood in his way.� Where, then?�
I suppress a smirk as it comes to me.�
It is time for a little payback.

�Delphi,� I relent.� �It�s at Delphi.�

When the sun came up none of the people at the picnic table had slept,
excepting Lupin and Lilith,
who had managed an hour before Snape woke them.� The hours of arguing and plotting had been
worth it, though.� They had come up with
a rough sort of plan.

Lilith had agreed to tell the formulation to Severus.� They had
all agreed upon erasing Lilith�s memory of the
formulation once this was done.� Even
after two thousand years she was still unsure if she wanted to take it; Remus had touted the effectiveness of Wolfsbane
for the meantime.� It made sense.� Though Lilith was a
witch, she had never properly learned how to defend herself and was, as such,
quite vulnerable.� She knew this as well
as anybody.

Hermione was to assist Severus in researching
if the potion could actually be made.� It
was dangerous and stupid and scary to even think about.� Part of her hoped that it was a dead end.� When she looked at Remus
or Lilith, though, her conscience told her that they
were worth the risk.� This chance might
never come again.

They had met a barrier when Lucius came
up.� How could they get Lucius back without giving up Lilith?� Everyone was on the same page; neither was an
acceptable sacrifice.� Severus had pointed out that this was Lucius
Malfoy they were talking about; he was a clever
bastard and none of them should underestimate his ability to get himself out of
trouble without any of their help.� That
had made them feel better for a moment, at least until Draco
sullenly remarked,

�Even clever bastards get killed sometimes.�

None of them could argue that.

Then Remus Lupin
spoke up.� �If it comes down to an
exchange, you can tell them her memory has been erased and I�m the only one
that knows the formula.� I�ll go instead
of her.�� It had earned him several
incredulous looks, most notably from Draco and Severus.� �I�m
serious,� he went on.� �I know enough
about potions to delay them.� I can give
them one of your Wolfsbane alterations, Severus.� They won�t
know any better.�

�That still puts you in danger,� Hermione said.

�Yes, but I can protect myself.�
And,� he said, drumming his fingers on the table, �I have a built-in
escape route.�

�What�s that?� Snape demanded.

�This last moon was the end of my Wolfsbane.� I haven�t taken the next dose yet.� If I go with them, I�ll be sure not to take
it.� When the moon comes in a few weeks��
he trailed off.

The stunned silence was broken by Draco.� �You�d do that for my father?�

�No,� Lupin replied.� His eyes traveled to where Lilith slept, draped across the bench of the next picnic
table.� �I�d do it for her.�

The day was viciously hot.�
Hermione had heard about this kind of heat in her readings.� Temperatures upwards of 40 Celsius weren�t
uncommon in summer.� That was half the
reason the Greeks were so fond of whitewashing; the white paint reflected the
sun�s rays and kept the temperature within down.

She tried to sleep.� Severus had lain down next to her for a time.� He wasn�t fooling anyone, though; he didn�t
sleep a wink.� She couldn�t either.� It was too hot and there was too much on her
mind.� Eventually he gave up and began to
work on the potion in the dragon-shaped vessel.

Lilith was going to tell him the formula when she
woke.� The idea was for them all to
recover from the long night of planning.�
No one thought it was odd that they were missing because no one had
ventured outside; it was much too dangerous to work in this heat.� Most everyone was hunkered down in their
cabins doing their best to maintain cooling charms.

Severus wasn�t saying much and she was surprisingly
comfortable with that.� The sound of his
even breathing and the scrape of his tools were pleasant company.� Without them it was too quiet; the heat
seemed to have driven the spirit out of everything from the ocean to the sea
birds that usually squawked and circled above.

Hermione sighed.� Even lying
perfectly still she was sweating.� She
turned her glance to Severus.� He was as undressed as she�d ever seen him,
aside from last night.� He was wearing a
white cotton undershirt and thin linen pants that were rolled up to his
knees.� His feet were bare.� He had odd feet; she hadn�t noticed
before.� They were large but narrow, with
long, dextrous toes and a sprinkling of hair on top
of them.� As he worked he flexed and unflexed the toes on his left foot unconsciously.� She wondered if he did that while brewing
potions, too.

He turned to her.� He always knew
when he was being watched.

�You know,� he said, taking in her flushed skin and the light sheen of
sweat on her forehead, �you can strip down if it helps you sleep.�

�Oh really?� she said playfully, rolling over onto her stomach.� Her leg seemed to rise up of its own
volition.� �You give me permission?�

A smile ghosted across his face and he returned to his work.� He said no more.� In the end, Hermione did as he suggested and
tossed her shorts and tank top aside.�
Then, nestling in the cool cotton sheets, she was able to fall asleep.

Night fell and it was cooler but by no means was it cool.� Severus was sweating
as the girl recited to him.� Lilith was nervous but sure.

�Two�two teaspoons of saffron�stir clockwise eight times�it should turn
orange.�

He wrote it quickly but not so quickly that he wouldn�t be able to read
it later.� So far this was entirely doable.� Every ingredient was something he knew of and
no step was beyond what he could do.�
Many of the core ingredients of Wolfsbane were
there but with a few notable differences.�
He nodded, indicating that she should go on.

�A cup of diced glistrithra. �Let it sit on top for ten minutes, then stir
once.�

Hm.� That threw a wrench in the gears.� He had no idea what glistrithra
was.

�One leaf of a purple Evanescing Tuberose.�

Damn it.� He had never heard of
that, either.� Then again, he was no herbologist�

They both jumped badly when Cyrus tore the door open.� Severus turned, ready to berate him for snapping the girl�s
concentration, but the look on Cyrus�s face killed his rebuke.

�We have visitors,� the head excavator said gravely.� �Speed things up in here.�

�Is Lucius with them?� Severus
asked.

�We don�t know.� We�ve only just
spotted them.�

He took a breath.� �Okay.� Lilith, how much more?�

�Ten minutes,� she whispered.

�And another five for the memory alteration.� Keep them busy.�

Cyrus nodded and disappeared.

Fog was beginning to roll off the ocean.� It was like a cloud army, billowing up from
the tranquil waves and slowly encroaching upon the land.� Each time one looked back it had advanced
further, claiming more territory from the witches and wizards who held it.

Dawn stood in an odd but strong line with Draco,
Cyrus, and Mehmet.�
Draco was to her left, his arms crossed and
his wand ready.� In spite of the harsh
words he�d delivered upon arrival she found that she liked him.� He had inherited all the best parts of Lucius; the sharp mind, the good looks, and that intangible
sense of being untouchable.� The war had
made him strong.� She saw in him the same
thing she�d seen in Hermione; steely resolve and a promise that if you got in
the way, you would not come out on the better end of the fight.

Cyrus, for all his bluster, was a welcome companion.� And Mehmet gave off
the aura of a man who had seen and done much, a man that they were all glad was
on their side.�

The wards crackled suddenly.� In
the fog they could make out the shape of a man.�
A single man with something in his hands, reaching out
to prod the wards.� The crackle
sounded again and the wards gave off a green spark of protest.� The brief light was eerie in the mist, though
they were glad of it; they could barely see one another, side by side, so that
meant the invaders couldn�t see them at all.

�What is that in his hands?� Draco
whispered.� Dawn had been trying to
figure that out also.� It was much too
big to be a wand.

�It�s a gun,� Mehmet returned.

�A muggle weapon?�

�Yes.� It won�t work against the
wards,� Cyrus said.

�Why the muggles?� Draco
asked.� �They have no chance of breaking
through.�

�We need to scout them,� Mehmet
murmured.� �See how many there are and
who is with them.�

�How do you propose to do that?�

�Brooms.� In
the fog we can move right above them.�
They won�t notice.�

�That�s dangerous,� Dawn stated.

�Yes, but it needs to be done.�

She looked at Cyrus.� He hadn�t
volunteered for this, but he nodded his assent and said, �All right.� The brooms are in the supply shed.�

Lilith was finished.�
She looked exhausted and he felt it.�
There had been three more ingredients he was unsure of.� That made a total of five in a potion
utilizing roughly sixty ingredients.�
They weren�t great odds but they weren�t terrible, either.� There was hope.

He cast a few quick preserving spells on the parchment.� It was impervious to water, fire, and insult
by hand or scissor, at least for now.�
Once he memorized it he fully intended to burn the scrap.

He stood and opened the door.� Lupin and Hermione were waiting outside.� He nodded and they came in wordlessly.� Remus went to Lilith.� Hermione
went to Severus.

Her eyes scanned the parchment quickly.�
He could tell that she was cataloguing the unfamiliar, as he had.� When she was finished her eyes flickered to
him and then to Lilith.

�It�s time, Lilith,� Severus
said gently.

The girl nodded.� She put on a
brave face, but as his wand touched her forehead, her hand reached out and
found Remus Lupin�s.� He squeezed her hand and sighed.� With a nod, he signaled for Severus to go ahead.

Mehmet was standing behind the bold muggle
with the gun.� The fog was thick enough
to obscure him and he was fast enough to repel an attack if one came.� The man�s team was further off, across the
empty highway.� Mehmet
didn�t know what they were waiting for.

He jumped as a sharp sound cut through the silence, odd and muffled in
the fog.� Slowly, though, his tension
leaked out of him.� It was a cell phone.� The man reached into his pocket and removed
the offending device.� He flipped it
open, lifting it to his ear.

�Nugent.�

Mehmet fought the temptation to cast a charm to enable
him to hear the conversation.� But as it
turned out, he didn�t need to.� The
volume on the phone and the speaker on the other side were both loud enough to
carry to where he stood, breathless.

�Nugent, it�s Warrick.� I�ve got a location for you.�

Nugent chuckled.� �I thought you
said this Malfoy fellow would take a while to break.�

�Well, we have very persuasive methods.�
He talked.�

�All right.� When
and where are we moving?�

�Delphi.� Three days.�

There was a pause.� �I�ll prepare
my men.�� He closed the phone.� Its light cast a small pool of luminescence
in the fog.

Mehmet kicked up on the broom.� He had heard enough.

He and Cyrus began to talk at the same time.

�It�s all muggles--�

�They�re backstabbing--�

They both stopped.

�You first,� Dawn said, pointing at Mehmet.� He nodded.

�The muggles are acting independently of the
wizards.� Malfoy
isn�t with them.�

�What do you mean?� Draco demanded.

�The wizards have your father.� I
overheard a phone conversation.� They
said Malfoy told them the site was in Delphi.� So either
your father has found a way to lie to them, or the wizards are trying to send
the muggles on a wild goose chase.�

�So the muggles are here on
their own?� They didn�t tell the
wizards the location?�

Mehmet shook his head.

�It�s true,� Cyrus added.� �It�s
all muggles out there.� Muggles with guns.�

�They�re crazy.� What can they do
without the wizards?� Draco asked.

�A lot, I�m afraid.� They have
two muggle hostages.��
All eyes turned to Cyrus.

�Two�muggle�� Dawn trailed off.� �Oh no.�

�What?� Draco said.

Dawn felt like the breath had been pulled out of her.� A look at Cyrus proved it.� Draco didn�t get
it, not yet.� She ran an agitated hand
through her hair and met his grey eyes.�

�It�s Anatole and Nick.�

Author�s
Note:� That�s two chapters in less than
two weeks, people.� Hah.� I think that deserves some reviews.� I�m going to try to write as much as I can
before I return to grad school on the 22^ndcause I�m feeling
inspired.� And it has absolutely nothing
to do with Lucius Malfoy in
leather at the end of the OoTP movie.� Nothing. *cough* Er, right.
- 16
- 17
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