Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: Deepest gratitude goes out to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers who have waited so patiently for this chapter. It's a little late, due to my new work schedule, but I hope it measures up to your lofty expectations! Thanks to SnivellusSnape, Laela, and Horesrider for their invaluable help and feedback. And, to those of you who sent me good wishes with the dealing job, it's going fairly well, thank you! :) Now, without further ado...

Chapter 18 –A Solution for Staging

Dumbledore was in his office, frowning at the parchments on his desk. Looking at the clock—8:36 a.m.—he sighed heavily. Fawkes gave an inquiring squawk. Glancing up fondly at the phoenix, Dumbledore grimaced and said, “I’m just trying to work out the rehearsal schedule. I’ve never done this before, and I feel like I’m flailing about blindly.” Fawkes fluttered over to Dumbledore and butted his head against the man’s shoulder. “I know that we’re supposed to start practicing the staging of the play, but I’m not sure how to go about it. And, we still haven’t worked out the charms needed for the glamours. I know we’ll have to enchant the instruments to play for the performance, turn the Great Hall into the theatre house, and change the sets efficiently… I just don’t know how best to do all that!”

He sighed again, and Fawkes minced over to the crystal bowl near the corner of the desk and picked out a lemon drop, which he then dropped in front of Dumbledore on the parchment. Dumbledore chuckled and picked up the proffered treat. “Thank you, Fawkes. However, I can see I’m going to need some help. Minerva will help me transfigure the Hall, but I don’t even know what it’s all supposed to look like!

Fawkes ruffled his wings as if to say that Dumbledore was overreacting and pointedly stuck his leg out, cocking his head to the side as he regarded the old man. “Of course, dear friend. I know you’re always ready to take messages.” He patted the phoenix affectionately. “Very well. I’ll send for Minerva and Severus and Filius. Perhaps they can think of a solution. Merlin knows I’ll have to draft Filius’s services for all the charms soon, so I had better prepare the good man.” Fawkes trilled and spiralled up from the desk, then arrowed back to his perch.

Sucking on the lemon drop, Dumbledore wrote the notes to each professor, summoning school owls to deliver them. Fawkes preened on his perch, looking decidedly smug.

***************** *************************

Snape looked up from the essay he was grading to see an owl winging toward him. He sat back, allowing the bird to land on the desk and offer its missive. As he took the scroll from the owl, it hopped to the side, waiting. Snape waved his wand absently and an owl treat appeared on the corner of the desk. The owl hooted happily and crunched the treat while Snape read the note.

“Severus, I find I require some help as Director of the play. I would like to have a meeting with you, Minerva, and Filius this morning. Please respond with whether or not you can join us in my office at 11:00. I understand that this is your Saturday, but this is a rather pressing matter. I appreciate your cooperation.

-A. Dumbledore, Headmaster”

Snape glanced at the time—9:02 a.m.—and smirked faintly as he scrawled his response under Dumbledore’s note.

“Headmaster, I am indeed available at 11:00; and I would be honoured to aid you in whatever fashion I may. I shall see you, and the others I’m sure, shortly.

S.S.”

He rolled the parchment again and secured it to the owl’s leg. It flew off and Snape went back to his grading, vaguely wondering what particular snag Dumbledore had hit this time.

******* ******************************************
“Lemon tart,” Snape said to the gargoyle. It turned and he stepped onto the spiral staircase. As he was about to ascend, he heard a squeaky voice in the hallway and rapid footsteps.

“Wait! Just a moment, please!”

Snape paused to let Professor Flitwick catch up. The tiny man wheezed as he joined Snape on the staircase. “I appreciate you waiting, Severus.”

Snape inclined his head graciously and murmured, “Certainly, Filius.” They reached the door to Dumbledore’s office and stepped in. Unsurprisingly, Minerva was already there, seated in a chintz armchair near the fire, sipping tea.

Dumbledore turned to the two men and gestured expansively. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me on such short notice. Please have a seat. Tea?”

Snape made his way to his preferred brown leather wingback chair set a little back from the group and sat. Flitwick took a chair near the fire, hopping up to sit with his feet sticking out straight. Once Dumbledore made the tea and passed the cups to the men, he sat, turning a thoughtful gaze on them.

“I have come to the conclusion that I need your help to make progress in the play. Minerva was already gracious enough to help me with the transfiguration spells for each actor’s costumes.” He beamed at Minerva and she smiled modestly, casting her eyes down as she waved her hand in airy dismissal. “I know you were not cast in the play, Filius, but I very much need your help to do all the charms necessary for the sets, the actors, and the instruments.” Flitwick nodded amiably, looking at Dumbledore, curious. “And, the main problem we face now is that I cannot even begin the transfiguration of the Hall and the charming of the sets because I really don’t have a clear enough idea of what it should all look like and how it should all change!” He wrinkled his nose and sniffed, perplexed, gazing at the other professors. There was a pause, and then he said, ruefully, “So, any suggestions?”

The other professors exchanged blank looks. Snape scowled in thought. Minerva muttered, bemusedly, “The script doesn’t give a clear description of the sets. It gives general ideas, but not much detail. If any of us had ever seen the play before, we would have a much better idea of what we need and what we can create to serve our purpose…”

Snape was struck with a thought, and he spoke before he realized what he was doing. “Miss Granger knows it. She must have seen it.”

All eyes turned to him, and he blinked, surprised at himself for volunteering such information. Dumbledore eyed him speculatively and asked, “How do you know that, Severus?”

Snape put on his snidest front and drawled, “Surely you’ve noticed that she already knows her part by heart. She knew the play before she was cast.”

Minerva cut in sardonically, “Then we could assume that you know the play as well, Severus, since you knew your role from memory at the last two rehearsals, too.”

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at Snape and added, “It is a lot to assume, Severus.”

Snape shifted minutely in his seat, fighting the urge to squirm under their gazes. He huffed and thinned his lips. “I’m not assuming, Albus. She said as much to me herself.”

Minerva started and asked, “When would she have done that? She never said anything at the rehearsals.” She frowned at Snape.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her and bit out, silkily, “She told me she had known the play for years now. At the first meeting you set up for us, Albus, she was singing along with the whole damned thing—every part! Suffice to say, I’m sure Miss Granger knows more about this play than any of us.”

Dumbledore sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Excellent. In that case, we will ask Miss Granger for her help in this matter as well.” He shot a twinkling glance at Snape. “Indeed, Severus, I should have realized how much more familiar Miss Granger was with the play when she suggested that your hair was not suitable…” Snape glowered at Dumbledore, almost snarling at the man’s amused countenance. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest and glared at everyone impartially.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together and beamed at the others. “Well then, this meeting is over. I appreciate your cooperation. Filius, if you have a few moments, I’d like to go over the extensive list of charms we anticipate needing. Good day to you all, and I’m sure I’ll see you at lunch. Perhaps Miss Granger will be there as well, and we can enlist her aid.”

McGonagall and Snape stood, Snape scowling for the woman to go ahead of him. She pursed her lips at him in irritation and swept out of the office. Dumbledore had moved to sit near Flitwick and was immersed in conversation about the charms he needed. Snape stalked out of the office, keeping several paces behind McGonagall. Once they were both in the corridor, and the gargoyle had closed, McGonagall spun on Snape, pinning him with a fierce stare. Snape stopped short, looking down his nose at the shorter woman, attempting an air of bored indifference.

“Severus, you had better treat Miss Granger nicely! I will not allow you to harass my prize student! With her, we have a solid chance of winning this competition, and I will not allow you to add more stress to her already full plate—”

Snape rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and drew his brows together. In a long-suffering tone, cutting off the woman’s tirade, he sighed, “Minerva…”

She fixed her hands on her hips, glaring at him, tapping her foot. Snape huffed and pinned her with an aggrieved expression, “As flattered as I am that you think so highly of me, I am an adult, and I can behave accordingly. Miss Granger and I have agreed to be professional about this whole affair, and I would never do anything to jeopardize Hogwarts’ chances to win the competition. I happen to agree that Miss Granger’s talents will go a long way toward that goal, so please refrain from haranguing me for things I haven’t done!”

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with Snape. He refused to back down and they stood there silently for several moments. Finally, McGonagall relaxed her aggressive stance and sniffed. “Very well then, Severus. But if I see so much as an inkling that you’re bothering her, I will go to Dumbledore.” With that, she nodded stiffly to him and murmured, “Good day,” before whirling to walk off. Snape sighed heavily at her theatrics and turned to go the other way. He stopped upon hearing her call out, “Severus!”

Gritting his teeth, he slowly turned to look at her again. She was gazing at him with a calculating smile. “I haven’t forgotten our little wager. I daresay that I may be closer to winning than you thought, after your admission about Miss Granger’s talents.” Her eyebrows twitched in malicious amusement. Snape merely rolled his eyes at her and spun around to stalk away. He glowered at the chuckle that echoed behind him.

Damned insufferable woman! If she only knew how right she is. Not that I can admit it, of course. Gods, wouldn’t she just crow over me if she knew precisely how worthy I do find a certain know-it-all Gryffindor…

Snape was torn between sullen dismay that he was bound to lose their wager and the cautious happiness that stemmed from the reason he would lose. He decided to head down to lunch instead of trying to do any more work at the moment.

I wonder if Hermione will be there this early? he mused, not realizing that his angry stride had changed to a smoother, lighter gait and that his expression was much softer and more peaceful than his usual sour glare.

Snape took his usual seat at the High Table and leisurely ate his lunch. He idly gazed out onto the raucous House tables. He had been there for a short while when Hermione entered. His chest tightened at the sight of her, gracefully striding to the Gryffindor table, with Ginny, Ron, and Harry in tow. She was talking animatedly, her hands waving about for emphasis, and Ginny was laughing. Ron and Harry were deep in discussion, gesturing wildly behind them. They all took their seats and filled their plates eagerly. As soon as they had all served themselves, there was a lull in their conversations as their mouths were soon too full to talk.

It was during this lull that Hermione felt the familiar tingle on her cheek and airily turned to see Snape regarding her through his curtain of hair. She beamed impartially around her, knowing he would realize her smile was for him.

Snape toyed with his teacup, swirling the dregs distractedly. Dumbledore took his seat next to him and said, “Hello, Severus.” Snape glanced at the old man and nodded politely, noting that the headmaster was once again reaching for the lemon tarts. He was suddenly struck with an idea.

Lemon… Smiling to himself, he reached for the teapot and refilled his cup, inhaling the fragrant steam. Then, he waved his wand to bring a small bowl of lemon wedges to him and Summoned a jar of honey. His eyes kept wandering up toward Hermione as he prepared her “tonic.”

Snape sat silently, savouring his tea, for a while. Finally, Dumbledore interrupted his reverie. “I say, Severus, you seem to be finished with your lunch. Would you be good enough to ask Miss Granger to meet me in my office after lunch?”

Snape turned to Dumbledore, acquiescing politely. As he pushed back from the table to stand, Dumbledore continued, “Actually, now that I think about it, why don’t I go on now and you can just bring her up when she’s done. I could use your help in demonstrating the Pensieve.”

Snape blinked at him, curious about his plans, but simply murmured, “As you say, Headmaster.” Dumbledore rose and Snape hastily followed suit. Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder, beaming, and shuffled out of the staff entrance. Snape strode crisply down the dais toward the Gryffindor table.

Hermione knew when he had stood, and she fought to keep from staring at him. But when she realized he was coming down the aisle near them, her stomach fluttered with anticipation. Trying not to blush, she glanced up, owl-eyed, as Snape towered over her. Harry and Ron cast suspicious glares at him and Ginny looked up, surprised.

Snape sneered at the boys before gazing coldly down at Hermione. Curtly, he said, “Miss Granger, the headmaster would like you to join him in his office when you are done eating. I shall escort you there.” He smirked at the starts of dismay from the group. “I will await your presence by the notice board. Do not dawdle.” He glared severely at her and swept a scathing glance over the others as he spun on his heel to continue down the aisle.

Hermione shot to her feet. “Professor!” Snape turned to look at her. Struggling to step over the bench without kicking Ginny, Hermione dabbed her lips with a napkin and cleared her throat. “I’m finished now, sir. There’s no need for you to wait.”

Snape nodded sharply and barked, “Very well then. Come along.” He stalked down the aisle toward the door. Hermione cast a baffled yet reassuring glance at the puzzled and worried faces of her friends before hurrying after her Potions Master.

In the empty corridor, she jogged to keep up with his fast pace, and tried to read his expression. It was blank and closed, and she felt a thrill of anxiety. Trying to get something out of him, she asked, “Is anything wrong, sir?”

Snape cut a glance at her and drawled, “Guilty conscience, Miss Granger?”

Hermione scowled and huffed at him. “Of course not! I’ve done nothing to feel guilty about.” Then, she paused, as she felt as if she had been doused with ice water again. Faltering in her stride, she cast a worried look up at the inscrutable man and said breathlessly, “He hasn’t found out about us, has he, Severus?”

Snape whirled on her so fast that she barely had time to gasp in shock before he had her backed against the stone wall, his furious face inches from hers. In a savage hiss, he snapped, “Never, never say my name like that where you might be heard! Have you taken leave of your senses? If, gods forbid, Dumbledore ever caught on to what’s between us, rest assured I would tell you before I just escorted you to your expulsion and my termination! In the meantime, we are safe. But we may not be much longer if you take such risks as you just did! Do I make myself clear?”

Hermione was gaping, wide-eyed. She was completely taken aback by his furious reaction and nodded dumbly, staring at him. She noticed that he was trembling with pent-up anger, and she realized that she was rather shaky at the moment herself. Stammering, she whispered, “Y-Yes sir. I-I’m sorry. I won’t be so foolish again.”

Snape saw the fear in her eyes and scolded himself for being so harsh. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. Relax. No harm done. There’s no need to terrify her! When he opened his eyes again, they held a mute apology for his overreaction and an appeal for forgiveness. He slowly backed away from her, darting glances down the corridor warily.

Hermione swallowed nervously. She could see his body sag from its tense stance and sensed the shame in his demeanour. In a small voice, she mumbled, “The corridor was empty. I wouldn’t do that when people are around.” She gazed up at him, wounded.

Snape favoured her with a look that clearly said, “Oh, really?” and gestured for her to follow him again. As they made their way further down the corridor, he gestured silently toward a painting on the wall and glared pointedly at her. Hermione flicked him a confused glance and he stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. He jerked his head toward the chatting people in the painting and narrowed his eyes at her. Hermione blinked questioningly up at him and he muttered, “The walls have eyes and ears.” Hermione’s eyes widened in comprehension and she flushed in chagrin. Satisfied that she had finally caught on, Snape dropped his hands to his sides and began their trek to Dumbledore’s office again. Hermione followed, chastened.

Their journey was a quiet one, as neither spoke the rest of the way. When they reached the gargoyle, Snape muttered the password. He courteously gestured for Hermione to precede him up the stairs and was surprised by a jolt in his groin as his body remembered the last time he had followed her up to Dumbledore’s office. Schooling his expression into one of indifference, they emerged into Dumbledore’s office, the early afternoon sun beaming through the tower windows. Dumbledore was beaming as much as the sunlight as he turned to welcome them. Hermione offered him a tentative smile, since she was still wary of why she had been summoned.

Dumbledore waved her to a seat in front of the fire and offered her a lemon drop. Snape took up residence in his wingback. Dumbledore settled into a chair across from Hermione and steepled his fingers thoughtfully.

Hermione looked attentively at Dumbledore and asked, “You wished to see me, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore nodded vigorously. “Yes, my dear. I need your help.”

“Certainly, sir. Anything.”

“Professor Snape informed us earlier that you have known the play for years now. Is this true?”

Hermione glanced quickly at Snape, seeing him ensconced in the shadows of his chair, and nodded. “Yes, sir. I saw it years ago and bought the soundtrack. That’s why I know my part. I learnt everything on the recording because I listened to it so much.” She smiled deprecatingly. She was distracted by a huff from the wingback chair. It clearly said, “I told you so.”

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Miss Granger, you are just the person to help me. You see, I need to begin staging the play, and I realized that I haven’t the slightest idea what the stage should look like or what the sets should be. You do, since you’ve seen it! So, what I would like to do is remove your memories of the play into my Pensieve, so I may see them and develop our theatre space. It’s a fairly simple procedure. Professor Snape can attest to that fact, as the Pensieve was invaluable to us in his role as a spy for the Order. If you’d like, he can demonstrate the use of the Pensieve and we can begin collecting your memories.” Dumbledore gazed at her expectantly.

Hermione was crestfallen. She didn’t want to let Dumbledore down, but she knew that her memories were fuzzy and incomplete. Her dismay clearly written on her face, she glanced imploringly at Snape before turning back to Dumbledore with a grimace. “Sir, while that is a wonderful idea, I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you after all. You see, it was so many years ago, and I was so young, and I don’t remember much clearly at all. I’m sorry, sir. If I had known I would need those memories like this, I would have paid much closer attention and kept them fresh in my mind. As it is, I know they’re tainted and practically useless.” She trailed off as Dumbledore’s twinkle faded and his smile drooped to a frown.

Hermione felt like it was her fault that Dumbledore looked so disconsolate. In an attempt to offer a solution, she blurted, “Um, sir? The play is still showing in London. You can always just go see it yourself and then you’d know what you need.”

Dumbledore glanced up at her rather blankly. Then, the twinkle resurfaced and he smiled widely. “Miss Granger, how very fortunate I am to have you around! That’s just it!”

Hermione blinked at him, confused. “So, you’re going to go see the play?”

Dumbledore clapped his hands again and beamed at her and Snape. “No indeed. I’m afraid I sha’n’t have the time for that. No. You will go see it again; and Professor Snape will join you.” He gazed at them with an expression of supreme satisfaction.

Snape started at his words and stared at the old man, stunned. Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked between the two men, gaping.

After a beat of shocked silence, Snape rasped, “I beg your pardon, Albus?” His voice held a note of warning.

Dumbledore waved his hand airily at Snape and chuckled. “Now, Severus, you have been acquiring information for me for years. You’re the one who is most skilled at observation. It would be beneficial for all of us if you saw the performance. But, Miss Granger is the natural choice to handle getting tickets to see a Muggle play.” He turned a thoughtful gaze on Hermione. “Speaking of, how would you go about it, and can you get there quite soon? I’d like to have the next rehearsal in a week and begin the staging, but I’m willing to wait until you have been able to go.”

Hermione bit back the wild desire to laugh. Faintly, she said, “Well, I can owl my folks and have them get online to check availability. If I remember correctly, it shows every evening. They can tell me the exact times.”

Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Excellent! By all means, do so. As soon as you hear back from them, let me know, and we will arrange everything. I do hope the tickets aren’t too pricey… but I’m sure Hogwarts can manage to foot the bill.” He winked at Hermione and chuckled at the derisive snort from the wingback chair.

Dumbledore stood, and Hermione shot to her feet. Snape rose slowly behind her. Hermione said briskly, “I’ll go straight to the owlery now. And I’ll be sure to have the owl wait for their response. It won’t take much time to find the information on the internet anyway. Hopefully, we’ll have an answer by dinner.”

Dumbledore patted her shoulder approvingly as she passed him. “Thank you, Miss Granger. Do let me know as soon as you hear back.”

Hermione nodded and exited the office, Snape slinking quietly behind her. They made their way out to the corridor again before speaking. When the gargoyle was shut again, Snape and Hermione turned baffled gazes on each other.

Snape blinked in consternation. Hermione felt her lips trembling as she choked back an unholy shriek of laughter at Snape’s expression.

In a low, deliberate voice, Snape murmured, “He’s going to send us to London… together… to see the play.”

Hermione grinned. Silently, they locked gazes and, as one, they strode down the corridor to a space devoid of any paintings. They paused. Hermione smiled up at him and drawled, “Really, Professor, it’s quite an ingenious solution. And it’s really not that torturous, is it? Being forced to see the play with me?” She tilted her head and coyly gazed up at him through her lashes.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her and smirked sardonically. “Miss Granger, you do realize how the Pensieve works, do you not?” He straightened to his full height and crossed his arms, looking down his nose at her.

Hermione shrugged and nodded. “Yes…”

“Then surely you are aware of the fact that whatever we see will be available for Dumbledore to view…” He trailed off, giving her a significant look. As comprehension dawned once again on Hermione’s face, he rolled his eyes and snorted at her expression of dismay. “Exactly. Now, it wouldn’t do to arouse suspicion by seeing each other too often in the Pensieve, would it?”

Hermione stared up at him, chagrined. “So, we’re going to have to sit through the entire thing without looking at each other?” Her disillusionment was almost comical.

Snape smirked again. “Come along. You should be getting to the owlery.” He lightly spun on his heel and strode off, Hermione hurrying to catch up with him. He glanced at the disgruntled witch beside him, noting her scowl.

She cut a sharp look at him and hissed, “You needn’t look so pleased with yourself either! You do so love to have the upper hand, don’t you?”

Snape raised his eyebrows at her and purred warningly, “Manners, Granger.”

Hermione huffed and looked away again, her chin tilted up defiantly. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Snape turned to continue down to the dungeons and she stepped forward on her way toward the Entrance Hall. Casting a quick glance around, she saw no one and paused. Spinning around to see the descending back of her Potions Master, she called out, “Good afternoon, Professor.” Snape stopped and looked back at her.

Hermione let her irritation dissolve and flashed him a warm smile. Snape pinned her with an intense stare for a moment before allowing himself to crack a faint smile in return. Hermione tilted her head at him and let her affection blaze out, bathing him in its warmth. She saw the answering incredulity and awe gleaming in his eyes.

Then, he let his lids drop, and favoured her with a smouldering gaze that set her heart racing. He watched her eyes widen and her breath hitch and he quirked one corner of his mouth up before slowly turning away from her and continuing his descent. Hermione felt the tingle wash over her at his look. Sighing at the sensations he evoked, she dazedly turned and set off to owl her parents.

*********************** ***************

Hermione was in the common room reading when she heard the scratching at the window. The owl she had sent was back. Once again grateful that Ginny, Ron, and Harry were practicing Quidditch and weren’t around to hound her about her meeting with Dumbledore, she opened the window, letting the bird settle on the table in front of her. She offered it a biscuit from the tray near her and it flew off with its beak full. She unrolled the parchment with a little trepidation. Quickly reading it, she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp.

“Dear Hermione,

We were delighted as usual to receive an owl from you. Mum says she’s sure you’re excited about being able to see the play again as well as being in it, of course. She remembers how you listened to the soundtrack virtually non-stop!

I went online, as you requested, and the shows start at 7:30 p.m. But, instead of just booking whatever we could get, I remembered something grand! Do you remember Mr. Campbell, the lovely fellow who set our practice up as exclusive with his bank? Well, we’ve remained friendly over the years, going golfing and such, and the last time we had him and his wife over for dinner, he mentioned that his nephew was a stagehand at the theatre and was one of the assistant stage managers for the Phantom of the Opera!

So, I called him up and told him about you being in your school production of it and how you needed to see it again, and he called his nephew. Well, long story short, we have two tickets for you in the third row centre for Friday night!

And, his nephew was kind enough to suggest that if you could make it, he could give you a guided tour of the theatre and everything backstage at 8:00 Saturday morning! Isn’t that wonderful? Your mum says we should send him a thank you note and remember him for our Christmas card list.

Anyway, your mum and I thought it might be nice if you were able to visit for a bit before you went, and we’d like to offer you dinner here before you go to the show. And, since the tour is available the next morning, wouldn’t it be easier if you simply stayed overnight? We do have the guest room for your Professor. It would save you travel time, I’d say.

Talk to your headmaster and let us know what the plan is. It’s not every day that you get an opportunity like this, you know. Hope to hear from you soon! We’ll keep our eyes open for any owls.

Love, Dad

p.s. By the way, since you told us you wouldn’t be able to come home again for Christmas because of the play, we’re really hoping you’ll be able to come visit, even if just for the evening. We miss you!

Love, Dad, and Mum of course!”

Hermione gaped at the letter. Shaking her head, she resolutely stood and exited through the portrait hole, heading for Dumbledore’s office.

*************************** ****************

Snape was reading the latest issue of Ars Arcanum when his fireplace glowed green and Dumbledore’s head popped into view. Glancing up at him, Snape drawled, “What can I do for you, Albus?”

Dumbledore twinkled at him and said, “Could you join me in my office again? We’ve heard back from Miss Granger’s parents. Just Floo in.”

Snape marked his place in the journal and sat forward. “Certainly. I’ll be there shortly.” Dumbledore disappeared from the fireplace and Snape stood before it. Grabbing a pinch of Floo powder from the jar on the mantle, he tossed it into the fire and stated, “Dumbledore’s office” before stepping into the emerald flames.

He scowled when he stepped out, seeing Hermione sitting there. He brushed the dust off his robes and peered at her through his hair. Her expression was one of pent-up tension, and she was worrying her hands in her lap, eyes wide and alert. She looked as if she were anticipating something. Snape frowned and looked at Dumbledore. He, of course, was beaming and twinkling.

“Do sit, Severus.” Snape perched stiffly on the edge of the chair across from Hermione. “Miss Granger’s parents went above and beyond the call of duty.” He paused to smile heartily at Hermione who flashed a tight smile back before reverting to her owl-eyed moue of expectation. Snape flicked a glance at her and narrowed his eyes. Suspicion crept through him.

He gazed back at Dumbledore, who was enjoying himself immensely. “How?” he said shortly, knowing he had to play along.

Dumbledore leant forward as if he was about to share something momentous. “They apparently know someone who is involved with the play in London, and they managed to get you two tickets for the Friday night performance. And…” he continued triumphantly, smacking his hand on the desk, “they have even arranged for a guided tour of the facility Saturday morning!” He sat back, grinning.

Snape looked between the two, cautiously responding, “How generous of them. So, it’s settled?”

Dumbledore nodded vigorously. “Indeed. You will leave Hogwarts to Apparate to the Grangers’ at 5:30 for dinner. Then you will proceed to the play at 7:30. After the play, you will retire to the Grangers’ for the night, to be ready for the guided tour Saturday morning at 8:00. After that, you will Apparate back here and meet me to put your memories into the Pensieve while they’re still fresh. I’ll have the rehearsal that evening since we’ll have the information we need by then.”

Snape’s eyes widened in disbelief as Dumbledore outlined the schedule. His jaw clenched in shock and he felt the colour drain from his face. Stunned, he dragged his gaze toward Hermione and saw her watching him warily. Suddenly, he understood her demeanour. Dinner?... With the Grangers?... Retiring for the night?... There?

Glaring at Dumbledore, incredulous, Snape ventured, “Is all that really necessary, Albus? Can’t we Apparate from here after dinner and come back that night? We can go back the next morning…”

Dumbledore shot him an offended look and shook his head. “Really, Severus. The Grangers have managed quite a treat for us. I hardly think it courteous to refuse their simple request to have their daughter for dinner and their offer to lodge you for the night. They’re offering you hospitality and convenience. It would be rather rude to throw it back in their faces.” Snape shot Hermione a look and saw her gazing about her, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.

Snape’s thoughts raced. He realized that Dumbledore’s mind was made up and, as usual, there would be no changing it. Railing at the uncomfortable position it put him in, he knew he had to capitulate. And there was no need to argue about it even more in front of Hermione. She didn’t need to see him held so securely under Dumbledore’s thumb. He took a deep breath and swallowed, putting up a façade of polite acquiescence. “As you say, Headmaster. I didn’t think of it that way. Indeed, Miss Granger’s parents have far exceeded our initial request for help, and it is only fitting that we graciously accept their plan.” He turned to Hermione, who was staring blankly at him. “Miss Granger, I will inform you when and where to meet me Friday to depart.” She nodded hastily. He looked at Dumbledore again and stood smoothly. “Now that that’s settled, if you have no more need of me, I shall return to my quarters.”

Dumbledore waved his hand at Snape and murmured, “Of course. Thank you, Severus.”

Snape inclined his head in a courteous bow to them both, saying, “Miss Granger. Headmaster,” before Flooing back to his rooms.

Dumbledore beamed again at Hermione. “Send your parents an owl accepting their generous offer. This is most helpful…”

Hermione stood. “Certainly, sir. I’ll do that right away.” She nodded at him as she passed to the door. “Good afternoon, Professor.” She exited and rushed down the stairs, heart pounding. As she hurried to her room, one thought kept spinning in her head.

Merciful heavens, Snape will be sleeping at my house!

********* *************************

Snape sat heavily in his chair before the fire, his copy of Ars Arcanum forgotten. He stared blankly at the fire, his head leaning against one hand. His chest felt tight and his stomach roiled. Only one thing held his attention above the roaring in his ears.

Bloody hell! I’m going to meet her parents!