A Matter of Honor
by Amy McWilliams (McAmy)

Book 3: Love and Honor

Chapter 21: Progress Reports

The next morning, Mordred woke them by coming to land on the headboard and hooting repeatedly. When they did not immediately respond, he dropped an envelope on his master's head. Severus cursed under his breath and ripped open the message; Hermione burrowed further under the covers, refusing to acknowledge either of them.

"Dumbledore wants to see us after breakfast," he announced.

"Mmm." She heard him refold the note, then begin to get out of bed. "MMMmmm." She reached a hand back towards him with this inarticulate protest, and he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

As he crossed to the bathroom, he said (rather more loudly than was necessary, she thought), "I'd better shower, love. The Headmaster will assume that breakfast is going to happen at a reasonable hour."

She shoved back the covers with a pout. "It's supposed to be Saturday." He didn't answer, and she faded back to sleep.

To be awakened again when he grabbed her foot and shook it. "Come on, get up. I'll send for some breakfast while you shower." Pouting again, she headed to the bathroom. He smiled to himself. They were definitely not morning people, but the note from Dumbledore had made him curious, so he was doing better than she was.

From the bathroom he heard her grumble loudly, "Tea." He chuckled as he put the kettle on.

As they neared Dumbledore's office ("Pixie stix."), Hermione finally asked, "Did he say what this was about?"

"There's news about Draco, apparently."

"Mmm."

She fell silent again, wondering if she could perhaps go back to bed when this was over, and, more importantly, if she could convince him to come with her.

Severus opened the door for her, and as she passed in front of him she felt him tense. Sirius was there already, and he didn't look happy. He also didn't look at them as they entered. So much for a quiet Saturday morning.

"You wished to see us, Headmaster?" Severus's voice was coldly polite.

"Yes, yes. Both of you, please, have a seat. Professor Lupin should be along any minute, but I think we can start without him. Sirius?"

Black took the seat in the far corner of the office. Speaking to Dumbledore, with an occasional glance at Hermione, he began. "Last night I got word that Draco Malfoy had been spotted in London. I went there myself to check the reports. I found him having dinner with some tart--Muggle place, really fancy like. I tracked him back to her flat--he didn't stay the night, sorry bugger--and then planned on following him to wherever he was holed up. Demand some answers, you know, before he could disappear on us again."

Hermione dared not look at Snape. He was perfectly still, perfectly silent--and that was a very bad sign. She glanced at Dumbledore, who seemed to be listening impassively. She also knew better than to trust his appearance.

Black continued. "He stopped in a Muggle pub over on Oxford Street, looked like he was making a phone call. Don't know to who. Then he ducked into the Leaky Cauldron, and I figured he was headed out the back. I was hoping he wouldn't Apparate. I didn't want to follow too closely, and I lost track of him for a minute. Then…" he paused, looked almost sheepishly at Dumbledore, "as I passed Gringotts, I heard him behind me."

Now Snape drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He said nothing, however, and Black flashed him a look before finishing. "He asked me why I was following him. I tried to put him off, tell him he was too suspicious for his own good, but he didn't buy it. He had his wand pointed at me, or I'd have…"

"You blundering fool." Snape's quiet malice cut through Black's narrative. He leaned forward to snarl at the man, but did not rise from his chair. "You arrogant, blundering fool. What, exactly, would you have done? Beaten the information out of him? Asked him nicely where his Daddy was spending Valentine's Day? Perhaps called for the Aurors, removing the one sure link we have to Lucius Malfoy? What the hell were you thinking?"

"You watch your mouth, Snape. I know what I'm doing. I…"

"You know nothing, Black. Nothing. You know only what other people tell you. And now Malfoy knows more than he did two days ago. He knows that either I have enlisted the help of Hogwarts, or that Dumbledore is after him as well."

"And what do I care if he knows I'm onto him? The little rat-faced bastard…"

"I care! And if you had any sense of strategy about you, I wouldn't have to explain this. Not only have you severely limited our options in approaching 'the little rat-faced bastard,' as you so kindly put it, but you have ensured that he'll be even harder to track in the future. Imbecile."

The last was directed the office at large, or to himself, Hermione couldn't tell. At this point, Snape rose to begin pacing in front of Dumbledore's desk. She looked at the Headmaster, but he had simply steepled his fingers against his lips, and was watching both men in turn.

Black had apparently collected himself, because he stood as well and shot back, "Tell the truth, Snape. I see it all now. You're trying to protect that little weasel, and you want me to help you. If I had taken care of him last night, that would be one less thing to worry about this morning."

Snape stopped cold in his tracks. "So much for Gryffindor honor, Black, if you can so lightly discuss killing someone who might still be recovered. Then again, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that you'd vote to throw Malfoy to the wolves…"

Black lunged at Snape, growling, and Dumbledore rose to his feet. Hermione froze; the look on Black's face was…horrible. Neither could intervene in time, and Hermione had to back out of the way to avoid the two as they crashed into the wall behind her, Black's forearm crushing against Snape's throat. Snape struggled to reach his wand, to free himself.

"Let him go, Black, or so help me, I'll make you wish you'd never been born." Both men stopped; Black turned to look at her. Hermione had her wand pointed at him; her gaze was cold, and her hand steady. "I'm not kidding. Let him go."

Black seemed to be weighing the odds when another voice interrupted. "I expected better of you, Sirius," Remus said quietly from the doorway. "To give your word and--did you have any intention of honoring your agreement with Severus? Or were you simply looking for a way to cause trouble?"

Black snarled, pushed past his friend and out the door. Hermione sat down, hard. Remus asked, "Are you all right, Severus?"

Massaging his throat, Snape brushed away Lupin's hand. "Fine." He turned on his heel and stalked out.

"Should I go after him?" Hermione's voice shook.

"No, my dear," Dumbledore answered. "I don't expect to hear the sounds of a duel coming from the lawn any time soon. I apologize; perhaps I should have given the two of you some sort of warning."

"It's all right," she said, managing a smile. "I don't know that anything would have made it any better."

"Hmm. Now, Remus, take a seat. I think that what we all need is some hot chocolate. The rest will sort itself out later, when cooler heads prevail."

Remus touched Hermione on the shoulder as he took the chair beside her. "Headmaster, I always said you were an optimist."

Dumbledore merely chuckled.

An hour later, Hermione arrived in the Potions classroom, where Snape was, predictably, hard at work over a cauldron.

She watched him for a while, and then asked, "Are you all right?"

He glanced up before continuing with his measurements. "Yes. Thanks in part to you, I might add." His expression didn't change, but she could see the smile behind his eyes.

"Mmm. Well, I suspect Dumbledore would have stepped in if I hadn't been there."

Now the smile played on his lips. "Probably. But I wouldn't have traded the sight of you holding Sirius Black at wandpoint for the world."

She was surprisingly relieved. He continued, "And I know what you're going to say: I can't expect Black to stay in line when I'm constantly goading him. But I could not stand back and listen to him speak of Draco so callously."

"I most certainly was not going to say that."

"Hmm." He glanced at her again. "No, I suppose you weren't. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

As she joined him at the worktable, she heard him murmur, "God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with, one to show a woman when he loves her."

After a moment of mental searching, she asked, "And are you going to make me look that up myself?"

He smiled. "Of course."

That evening, Severus was reading on the sofa with Hermione's feet in his lap. Having finished grading a set of homework papers, she had promptly fallen asleep.

When she woke up, she took the opportunity to watch him for a minute; he was intently focused on his book, the crease between his eyes a testimony to his concentration. She couldn't resist. Slowly, she shifted her foot to the right…just enough…

He seized her ankle. Not looking at her, he said, "This is precisely the reason I resisted your feet in my lap the first time you put them there."

She smiled to herself. He did not release her foot. "You seem to be taking the events of this morning rather well," she noted. "I half expected you to pack up and disappear, since Sirius made a mess of things the first time out." She had not truly been afraid that he would go it alone--surely Black's actions were predictable enough--but his original warning she had taken seriously.

He sighed, and leaned forward to place the book on the table. Settling back, he propped his feet up on the table as well, rested his head against the back of the couch, and began to massage her foot.

"I suppose I was expecting it. And while he has indeed made things even more difficult, after so long a silence, he hasn't done irreparable damage." He turned his head to look at her. "Yet."

"Are you as worried as I am that we haven't heard anything out of either Malfoy for this long?"

"I am. Lucius--well, it surprises me that he could actually stay out of sight this long, given his craving for center stage, his insistence on taking credit. And Draco--he was never that clever. The fact that Carson"--Carson was the last remaining ally out of the group of ex-Death Eaters with whom he had been working--"cannot find hide nor hair of him, and that even Dumbledore's usual sources of news are as dry as mine, worries me."

Hermione sighed. He turned his attentions to her other foot.

"You're worried about Draco, too, aren't you."

"Yes." His hands stopped; she felt the tension in his grip as he continued. "I have seen far too many of my past students wind up dead or in Azkaban. Them, I cannot help. But there is still a chance that I can get through to Draco Malfoy, stubborn brat that he is." His hands began again. "If we can but find him…"

"We will," she said. She wriggled her toes to make him look at her. "We will."

The next day, Hermione got her wish--they slept in until almost ten o'clock, before heading to the classroom and their work on the lycanthropy cure. They had a meeting with Remus late that afternoon, and nothing to tell him when he arrived.

Their work in both directions--the original Wolfsbane Potion and the research into Dark Magic--had stalled out, and they were at a frustrating loss as to what to try next. The good news was that Hermione believed she had worked out a way to lessen the monthly dose. A minor consideration, but a spoonful of a horribly foul tasting liquid was better than a gobletful.

"Well, I'm disappointed, but not surprised. I've always suspected that there would never be a cure. After all, this isn't a curse, or, technically, a disease. How can you cure me from what I am?" Lupin's words were resigned, but his tone light. He smiled at Hermione.

"We won't give up, Remus," she insisted. "We…I will keep working on it."

"As will I," added Snape.

"Thank you both," said Remus. "I could not ask for two better friends."

Severus's eyes went wide, but Hermione ignored him to ask, "Remus, you haven't mentioned it, and since I'm used to men who don't want any special attention paid to the day, I thought I'd let it pass, but…didn't I read in your medical history that today was your birthday?"

Remus smiled meekly. "Yes, February 16th. I…never want anybody to go to any trouble…"

"Nonsense." The men exchanged a look; her tone was very much that of a Gryffindor know-it-all. "You'll have dinner with us, to celebrate." Then she smiled. "But we won't mention your birthday again if you don't want us to. Will seven o'clock be too late?"

"No, that'll be fine…"

"Come to my rooms, then. We'll see you there."

As she turned back to her notes, Snape and Lupin smiled at each other for what was perhaps the first time.

After Remus had left, Severus had asked if she thought Lupin would like Italian food. When she answered in the affirmative, he simply noted that she should bring Lupin through the fireplace when he came to her rooms at seven o'clock.

Severus had chosen well, and the three enjoyed a wonderful meal, from the wine to the manicotti. Afterwards, over espresso, they continued their conversation for some time. Of course, Severus hadn't said much the entire evening, but Hermione could tell that he was enjoying himself. He mainly spoke when the subject was school and students--to complain, of course. He sat quietly, listening, as they discussed anything but the cure and the Malfoys. Remus had received a letter from Harry the day before, and it seemed that Ron might have a new girlfriend. Harry wasn't sure. Hermione decided that Harry had counted on Remus to share the information with her, so that he wouldn't have to write her the news himself.

After Remus had gone, Hermione poured a glass of wine for herself, Severus having gestured that he did not want another.

"That was nice," she said, once seated with him on the sofa. "I had no idea you knew so much about Italian food." He'd clearly ordered everything to his exact specifications, and it had been better than the fancy Italian restaurant to which her parents used to take her, by a long shot.

"Mmm. I had it in mind for Valentine's Day, but then we decided not to do anything special."

"You know it's my favorite."

"Of course."

"And who could have imagined…Remus Lupin sitting at your table."

"Who could have imagined you sitting at my table."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before going to bed.

Severus woke in the middle of the night to a soft glow in the room. Rolling over, he saw Hermione seated at the table, surrounded by books and feverishly scribbling.

He slid out of bed, wrapping his dressing gown around him, and crossed to place a hand on her shoulder.

"What are you doing up?" he asked softly.

She jumped, despite his quiet tone. "Gods! Severus! You scared me."

"Reading this in the small hours of the morning can't have helped your nerves. What are you doing?" She had one of the Darker tomes out, as well as volumes on Transfiguration and Potions--and one on Muggle Biology.

She finished her notation, and then leaned her head back against him. He obligingly rubbed her shoulders.

"I didn't want to wake you, but I had a thought. I think…I think I may have an idea about Remus's cure."

Hopes of luring her back to bed before he was wide awake vanished. "And?"

"And I think we've been coming at this from the wrong angle. Come here, I'll show you."

She picked up the top page of notes and led him to the sofa.

"Now," she began, collecting her thoughts, "we've been working with the existing Wolfsbane Potion as a starting point. We've managed to refine, but not perfect. And I've decided that isn't possible." She watched his face for a response, but he simply motioned for her to go on.

"Well, I've been thinking about this in terms of the work we did on Cruciatus. There too, we were working towards a potion that would block effects. In both cases, the cure, or counter reaction, is dependent on there being an action in the first place. In other words, the Wolfsbane only works when the transformation occurs, just as the Cruciatus potion only works when Cruciatus is cast. It lies dormant until then."

He saw where she was headed. Of course!

"So, that's been rattling around in my head for a while, and I woke up tonight with an absurdly simple thought. We need to stop focusing on blocking the physical reaction, and work on altering Remus's body chemistry to the point where the transformation won't occur in the first place--then there won't be anything to block." She paused, then added, "Not that it will be simple to implement…"

"No, you're right. We should take a step back and come at this from another angle. So you're thinking about the Dark Curses to transform people into animals, and thinking of…what, adapting them somehow? Reversing?"

"Yes, or something like a…permanent transfiguration. Or…we may not manage a permanent change, but we might at least get him to the point where he doesn't have to deal with any effects of the transformation--even the discomfort as he waits for the right time to take his monthly dose. But I think that, because of the physiology involved, it will still have to be a potion. I can't tell."

"Well, I'm sure that McGonagall would be happy to help us, should we need her, as would Pomfrey," he offered. "But in the meantime, we have school tomorrow, and you've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are not a morning person. Come to bed."

She allowed herself to be led to bed. A few minutes later, she began, "Severus, do you think that if we…"

"Go to sleep, Hermione."

She sighed, wrapped her arms around him, and finally fell asleep.

After her last class on Monday, Hermione stopped at the library, and then was outside the door waiting when the last Potions class of the day let out. Snape was at the front of the room, scowling down at a student who had been late to class. Since the student had been with Flitwick, his Head of House, Snape had no choice but to let him have the full time in which to complete that day's assignment.

Hermione crossed the room, giving him a quick look, and tried not to laugh at his clear expression of annoyance.

She was intently working on a shopping list for their next trip to Knockturn Alley when she heard Snape growl. "What is it, Miss Fairfax? Well? Spit it out now, or get out of my sight."

She hurried to intervene. "Miss Fairfax, are you looking for me?"

The girl visibly relaxed. "Yes, Professor. I…need to change the time of our meeting tomorrow, and Professor Lupin said that you'd probably be down here." She glanced at Snape nervously. He said nothing, simply glared.

"Why don't we go to my office, then. We can talk now, or we can arrange some other time this week."

"Thank you, Professor."

They escaped the Potions classroom together, though Hermione couldn't resist waving good-bye to Severus as she went. He rolled his eyes and went back to his work.

"Why on earth are you so grumpy?" she asked upon her return. "Have you finally found Neville Longbottom's replacement?"

"No," he answered. "Just after lunch I received a letter. From Draco Malfoy."

A/N: The request/demand for tea comes from two places: Blow Dry, and British Men Behaving Badly. This one looks more like the first one, but my sister would scold me if I didn't also acknowledge Tony and Gary's exchange. ;) That foot-shaking thing comes courtesy of my father. My sister and I are definitely not morning people, either. But her birthday happens to be the 16th of February (just as mine is the 6th of January, or Epiphany...). The lines of poetry Snape quotes are from Robert Browning's "One Word More," dedicated to his wife, Elizabeth Barrett Browning. He always said that she was the better poet.

On to Chapter 22