—————H—————

She stared at the fireplace with trepidation, hoping her gown was sufficient. Hoping she was sufficient.

Hermione hadn't put much thought into the Malfoy gathering, deciding instead to focus on studying, on the Yule Ball, on the things a normal seventeen-year-old witch at Hogwarts should concern herself with.

She'd chosen wine red robes for the ball, off the shoulder, with an empire waist. Her friends had told her she looked older, grown and mature. Those words buoyed her into reusing it for the pure-blood soiree.

"Miss Granger doesn't need to be there," the headmaster adamantly told them as he, Alastor, and Minerva stood in the headmaster's office with them. "In fact, I think she shouldn't."

"I was invited," she said without looking at them, her voice strong despite her nerves.

"And passing on the invitation will make it clear that you do not share Severus' ideals."

"I don't harbor those ideals," Severus countered, with a barely respectful tone.

"But they believe you do, and for this to work, they cannot doubt you."

"Said it before, Albus. Works better if he has a partner. He goes alone, looks bad. Especially when they know he has a bird."

Hermione looked up at Alastor's voice, and saw the headmaster give a smile that made it all too clear that he was surrendering. For the moment.

Alastor looked at her, and she felt him probing at her mind. Her Occlumency shields were already in place and had been since before Christmas, when she realized what was going to happen and how badly she needed to keep her secrets. Severus had taught her how to put things she didn't want anyone to see behind a near-permanent wall, while keeping benevolent thoughts on the surface. She had felt the headmaster probing her mind when they first entered the office, and she suspected her new skill made him believe she was more vulnerable than she really was.

Moody gave a nod of approval. "Get goin', the pair a ya. Stay only as long as is polite, get what info you can, and get out."

Hermione nodded meekly.

"Understood," Severus said, coming to her side and taking her arm. He held her arm tightly as they stepped into the Floo together. He declared, "Malfoy Manor, foyer."

One moment, Hermione could see the concern on Minerva's face, the next, she was spit out of a fireplace with Severus still holding her.

They were both startled by the large-eyed house-elf that greeted them with a shy smile and a flick of its wrist. The soot and dust from the Floo vanished from their formal wear.

"Dobby is to bring Master Severus and guest to the ballroom," the elf explained.

Hermione held on to Severus just a bit more tightly, taking in the manor and the atmosphere.

It was all so jarring in its contrast: the manor was light and welcoming, its opulence grand but not completely outlandish; but the atmosphere was chokingly dark, the aura of more than a couple dozen magical beings with Dark leanings was nearly suffocating.

It only increased upon entering the ballroom.

There were many couples already dancing a quick traditional wizard dance that Hermione knew but doubted she was very good at. There were tables near the back, clustered around what was obviously the head table. From the opposite side of the room, Hermione could feel eyes on them, and only managed a glance at the lone figure in a tall throne-like chair.

Severus gave her hand a reassuring pat as they stepped into dangerous territory. There were a few confused glances and sneers as they came to the edge of the fray. Dobby had disappeared as soon as they were through the doors, leaving them with not much idea of what they were supposed to do. They didn't have to wait long before Lucius and Narcissa approached.

"Severus," he said warmly. "Wonderful that you could make it. And Hermione, of course. One needs a partner at these things, and you have chosen a marvelous one. Come, allow me to make some introductions."

The Malfoys turned, leading them around the throng of dancers to the high table.

The man who sat upon it was disturbingly handsome. Even with his eyes an unnatural burgundy with red around the irises, and his pallor closer to Severus' than Lucius', he was striking. And his smile. His smile was disturbingly enchanting. He studied Severus as if sizing him up, eyes occasionally flickering to Hermione at his side.

"My Lord," Lucius said as they were close, he and Narcissa bowing and curtsying, respectively. "This is the young man you have been longing to meet, Severus Snape. He is accompanied by Miss Hermione Granger-McGonagall."

"Severus Snape," the Dark Lord repeated, his voice rich and alluring with a sinister hiss beneath the surface. "The only non-Master to be featured in a potions publication, not yet out of Hogwarts. A Slytherin, top of your year, powerful. Your mother has renounced your father and rejoined her proper place in our society. And from what I've heard, if it were possible, you would also discard your father's name."

"Tobias Snape is merely the man who fathered me," Severus said, and then smoothly tacked on a swift, "My Lord."

He bowed, and Hermione fell into a curtsy, trying to use her Occlumency to keep from shaking.

"Yes, merely a tool, wasn't he? Simply there to give your mother an heir. I suppose, given her other choice would have been a blood traitor, it didn't much matter." Tom Riddle sighed, straightened, and stared Severus hard in the eye. Hermione felt a bolt of fear run down her spine, knowing what was happening despite Severus showing no sign of being invaded, and Riddle only clenching his teeth.

Slowly, very slowly, Riddle's grimace gave way to a Cheshire grin.

"Severus. Severus, Severus, Severus. You are going to be ... wonderful. You have such passion. Such spirit of invention. Tell me what I must do to count you amongst my friends. Which of your great ambitions can I help you to achieve?" Riddle's eyes turned to Hermione, and she felt him in her mind.

He ripped through what was available, perusing Hermione's life as if flipping through a book. All the important bits were tucked away, placed securely behind her walls. She had taken the time to imagine herself as she had been in her early days at Hogwarts, wearing an Ilvermorny uniform and thinking of her Muggle classmates as magical. They were fuzzy, of course, but they had a gloss of memory loss rather than alteration. Her clearest memories were post-accident, and while she wondered if he was interested in finding out what she was like, she noted he only looked closely at memories that included Severus. The memory of his confession of Dumbledore's 'request' for him to become a Death Eater surfaced, but Riddle didn't bother looking too deeply. He heard the title of his followers in her mind and latched on long enough to see she wasn't revolted by the idea. He pulled out immediately afterward.

"It would seem your lady is not opposed to you becoming one of my Death Eaters," Riddle said with approval. "She also seems to want you, so there is no persuading I can do there."

"Forgive me, my Lord, but regardless of what my desires might be, I am still sixteen."

"All the more impressive. When you come of age, we shall revisit this discussion. But for now," –he gestured to the chairs to his right- "let's get to know one another better. I feel as though we have a lot in common."

—————S—————

Their return to Hogwarts brought a rush of relief, and Severus nearly shuddered as the memory of Tom Riddle in his mind washed over him.

Alastor was gruff, but not harsh. Dumbledore was needling, like the buzzing of an insect in his ear. Hermione was warm and loving. Riddle was like a cold bath while reading the darkest tomes Severus had ever encountered, possibly more so.

"How did it go?" Alastor asked, eyeing them over with his good eye while the magical one did the same, but faster and more critically.

"Well," Severus started slowly, disliking the way Dumbledore lit up, "he's ... intrigued by me."

"May I see?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus hesitated, unwisely perhaps, but he couldn't help it. He had a headache from being invaded and keeping his shields in place. He was tired, and frankly didn't think he could keep the old codger from seeing things he didn't want him to.

The headmaster seemed to sense this, and Severus immediately looked to Alastor for guidance. Dumbledore chuckled.

"No, my boy. I will not poke around when I don't need to. Simply put your wand to your temple, focus on the memory, and allow it to move toward your wand."

Severus frowned, but did as instructed. As he brought it to the surface, he had to concede that the soiree wasn't quite what he had expected. While he knew the Death Eaters performed Dark deeds, he hadn't expected the party to be quite so lively or gentile. He had danced with Hermione, spoken to a pair of Potions masters who were brought in to entice him, but both seemed genuinely interested in snatching him as their own. He was among pure-blood society as a freshly-minted and acknowledged heir of a dying line, and many of those who had little to no use of him while in school suddenly didn't seem to mind his half-blood heritage.

The memory got foggy, and there was a gentle pressure on the side of his head like the beginnings of a new, different headache. He pulled his wand away, and there was an uncomfortable pulling sensation as a silver wisp of memory came free.

Dumbledore smiled and waved him to a stone basin. "If you could drop it in there, Severus, and then walk Miss Granger back to Gryffindor Tower. Please don't take too long, we'll need to discuss what happened."

He nodded once, took Hermione by the hand, and led her out of the office.

They were clear of the stairs when she pulled him to a stop, and he suddenly realized that, while he was still Occluding, Hermione had let hers drop.

She was shaking violently, her fingers digging into his arm so hard that he thought she would draw blood.

"That was terrifying," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He was ... he was in my head, and I thought for sure he would see that ... what you said. But he just wanted to see what I thought of you joining. He was stuck on that one part of the conversation and shoved the rest away. I need ... I need to be better. I need to be better for you if I'm going to face all that. I need ... I need to be more pure-blood, I need to be a stronger Occlumens, I need to be better."

As she spoke, her voice got higher, most desperate, and by the end, she was gasping for breath while trying not to sob. Severus pulled her to him, acknowledging that behind his shields, he was scared as all fuck himself but not as much she was.

"You can back out, Hermione. It's okay."

"No! No, I can't, I won't, I'll be better. I promise I'll be better."

Severus held the sobbing witch, not sure what to do or how to help, when he heard footsteps, short and clipped, coming toward them. Minerva rounded the corner and stopped for a moment at the sight. She hurried towards them once she processed who it was.

"Wha' happened to her?" she asked, a hand on Severus' arm while the other hovered over Hermione.

"She's unharmed, just ..." He sighed. "It was a lot to take in this evening. She did well, she's just—"

"I understand, lad. Albus is nae expecting me for a bit longer. I assume he wanted ye back up when you brought Hermione to the tower?" Severus nodded. "I'm goin' to bring her through to my office via the Floo upstairs. Come on."

Severus turned Hermione around, heading back up the stairs.

When they entered the headmaster's office, Dumbledore had his head shoved in the basin, and Alastor gave them a confused look before he snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Donea say it, Alastor," Minerva warned before trying to extract Hermione, now quietly crying, from Severus' arm. "Hermione, dear, let's go to my rooms so you can lay down. Severus will see you as soon as he can," she soothed, and Hermione relinquished her grip and let Minerva guide her away without a word.

Behind his shields, panic boiled. What if she left him? What if the pressure was too much and waiting for him to finish his Mastery was no longer an option? Things were made quite clear this evening: he was going to be marked or he would have to leave the country. He'd just wanted to keep his head down, get his education. If it meant being able to feed those opposed to the Dark Lord the information they sorely needed, it was a bonus. But it wasn't his goal, it wasn't what he wanted. But then again, would he have ever been able to avoid such a fate?

"What happened?" Alastor asked once the ladies were through the Floo, and Severus shot his eyes at Moody.

"She was overwhelmed," Severus admitted, letting his weight fall against the wall near the mantel. "He entered both our minds, and while she did fine, she just ..." He trailed off. "He wants me. We talked, extensively, and it seems he wants my skills. He wants my talents, he approves of the courtship, and he wants me out from under Dumbledore's influence."

"So ... exactly where we want ya."

"But not where I wanted to be," Severus hissed. "I didn't want to be involved before I got a break with Hermione, and I don't want to be there now."

"But it would appear that you are," Dumbledore's voice startled Severus, though he didn't show it. He turned to the old wizard, who gave him that infernal grin, hands folded in front of him. "My dear boy, you have done wonderfully. You are a favorite of Tom Riddle's already, and you aren't even one of his followers yet."

"Nor do I want to be."

"No, but as you have already deduced, there is no turning back. You will either have to take the Mark or flee the country. And how long do you think it would be before Tom hunts you down? And even if you hide, even if you make yourself completely untraceable, they will go after Miss Granger."

"Not if she's with me."

"No, but I doubt they will wait until she graduates before using her to draw you out."

"She can take her N.E.W.T.s early, with me. Merlin knows she's ready to."

"Yes, she could do that, but unfortunately, she needs the signatures of all the professors involved in her education, as well as mine. And I'm sorry, Mr. Snape, but I will not release her into the wizarding world before I absolutely must."

Rage burned through Severus and his lip twitched, trying to curl into a sneer. His nostrils flared and his muscles tensed as a dozen or so hexes zipped through his mind.

"It would seem, headmaster, that you have me in a corner, as it were."

"I confess it is a bit of a checkmate, ," Dumbledore said, clearly pleased with himself.

"It's dirty, Albus," Moody said gruffly as the Floo flared green and Minerva stepped through. "Ya know he ain't gonna leave his witch for ya, and yet the only option you give him that lets him back out is to do just that."

"Do what?" Minerva snapped, looking from Alastor to Dumbledore. "Albus, what did you do?"

"Merely secured us a spy, Minerva. Unless, of course, Mr. Snape decides to run? Leave Miss Granger behind? I've noticed Mr. Lupin seems rather fond of her, so she'll at least be in good hands should you decide to take the ... other route."

Severus heard the unspoken word as if the headmaster had shouted it from the Astronomy Tower: cowardly.

"Mister Snape," Minerva said in a steely tone that was not at all directed at him, "I'd like you to head back to your dormitory for the evening."

"Minerva—" Dumbledore started to say.

"Don't ye dare, Albus. Ye've done enough damage for one night. How dare you! How dare you do this?"

"Your answer, Mister Snape?" Dumbledore cut off McGonagall just as Severus reached the door.

Severus sighed heavily. He'd known it was all too good. He'd known it was a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. Not quite six months before, he had laid in that tent, looking at the stars on the enchanted ceiling, trying to read them to see when his good luck would run out. When he would lose the girl he loved, when the dreams he had of an apothecary would be pulled out from under him, when he'd lose the friends he'd gained.

And the headmaster was right; from every angle, it was a checkmate. He could avoid the Dark Lord, shun their interest, stay in school his seventh year, and lose the chance for an apprenticeship in Europe. If he left for anywhere else in the world at the end of this year, and Hermione was a sitting goose. Risk staying still, and they would both be tormented.

"I have no choice, do I?" he said over his shoulder.

"There are always choices," Dumbledore answered condescendingly.

Severus scoffed. "But only one right one, correct, Headmaster?" He looked the old man in the eye, and thought he caught a hint of remorse. "I'd already guessed this would be my path before I left for Lucius' home this evening. The visit just confirmed that I had no other options. I'll do it, but not for you."

"Fair enough, my boy," Dumbledore said, and Severus took his exit.

He hoped that Hermione would still wait for him; that being backed into this corner wouldn't send her running. Though, really, he wouldn't blame her if she did. He wasn't sure he cared what anyone else thought, though he did feel a slight pang at the thought of losing Lily.

But at least he knew that he would still have Alastor to turn to, as well as Minerva. She hadn't even waited for him to shut the door before starting to tear Albus Dumbledore a new one.

—————A—————

Aurora was thankful for her father's insistence that he decide who could ask her to the ball, because honestly, she didn't know what she would have done if everyone who'd gone to him had asked.

Fred wanted to ask her, and that made her heart and stomach do weird things that she disliked but savored. Neville wanted to ask her as well, and she didn't like how that both excited her and filled her with guilt. Neither had approached her, though she felt their eyes on her throughout breakfast.

Y ou know exactly why you feel guilty.

She hated that she was logical enough to know why she felt guilty at the sight of Neville's name: she didn't want to say no to him. But she didn't want to say no to Fred either. They were both her friends. Fred was older, a bit more handsome, but Neville was sweet and trustworthy. She never had to worry if the drink or snack he handed her was tainted. But then again, he didn't have Fred's intellect, and it perturbed her a little that a fourth year was asking her, a third year, Potions homework questions. But Neville was also one of the few people who stood with Harry right from the get-go of this whole tournament nonsense. And while they didn't exactly wish the worst for Harry, Aurora suspected that the bets for the first event were spurred on by jealousy that Harry had entered the tournament.

With a heavy sigh, Aurora slumped against the table, dreading the pending decision.

"It can't be that bad," Ginny said, trying to cheer her up. She knew of the list, and despite her brother being on it, she didn't have a favorite. Nor did Luna. And worse, both girls admitted that if she picked Fred, neither would be available to attend with Neville. Both already had dates.