—————S—————

"I can't imagine how you've managed to hold this in all morning, Minerva," Severus heard Dumbledore faintly out in the main ward of the hospital wing.

Hermione had been placed in a private room, away from anyone who could come up for a sudden onset of stomach cramps or unbearable headache. From the exasperated look Madam Pomfrey had greeted him with when he arrived at the beginning of lunch, it had been happening quite a bit since she brought Hermione into the hospital wing that morning. The matron had directed him to her room, warned him that Hermione still hadn't regained consciousness and promptly forgot he was there. Which was fine by him, as he intended to stay until he had to leave for Arithmancy later in the afternoon. And even going to that was debatable.

As a result, he doubted the supposedly omnipresent headmaster had any idea there was a student within hearing distance, listening to their conversation.

"I've been holdin' it in 'cause you've been avoiding me, Albus. I agreed to the Vow, but I didnae think ye'd be so vicious with it," Professor McGonagall shouted.

"Not vicious. Thorough. If Riddle were to learn what she does—"

"Donae start with that," McGonagall cut the headmaster off. "How'd he'd ever get holda her?" Whatever Dumbledore said after that was too soft to hear through the closed door, but the sharp clap of a palm against skin made Severus sit up straighter. McGonagall said something else too low to make out, but there was a hissing quality to her voice that led Severus to believe the headmaster was being lectured.

He was also satisfied with the thought that the Transfiguration teacher had slapped the headmaster.

Shadows blocked out the light under the door and Severus cleared his mind so he could pretend he hadn't overheard their conversation. It always helped him lie. He turned his attention entirely on the Arithmancy book in front of him, blocking out the quiet grumbling on the other side of the door.

A snort had his act shattered in an instant. Turning toward the bed fast enough to pop something in his neck, he took in Hermione's groggy smirk with a surge of relief.

He immediately put on his best scowl. "Exactly what did you think you were doing, falling unconscious as you did?"

"Did I ruin your day?" she taunted with a scratchy voice.

"Lupin has been shadowing me from a distance all morning," he sneered. "What exactly did you say to him to get him to follow me around like a lost puppy?"

"I didn't say anything to him," Hermione said as she tried to sit up.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back down. "It's not what he said."

"Then I don't remember," Hermione replied as she weakly tried to resist him. "Why won't you let me up?"

"Probably because you came so close to death this morning you made my complexion look downright radiant. You aren't getting up until Pomfrey says you aren't going to keel over."

There was a gentle rap on the door and it opened to reveal the headmaster and a harried-looking Head of Gryffindor.

"Mr. Snape, shouldn't you be in class?" Dumbledore asked.

"I have a free period, sir," he replied, doing his best to be civil.

"Ah, well, perhaps you should—"

"Albus," McGonagall hissed as she went to Hermione's side.

Dumbledore stared at her, then conceded with a nod. He looked at Hermione. "Miss Granger, I trust you understand what happened?"

"Yes, sir," she croaked.

"Good. Perhaps, in the future, you will be more careful to not trigger your condition?" He arched a brow and Severus noted Hermione's eyes darkening.

"Of course," she said, a bit too sweetly.

Dumbledore nodded once more. "I will have Poppy come and check on you." And with a sweep of his disgustingly bright pink robes, he left the room.

"Miss Granger, Hermione, let me assure you that if I thought, for a moment, that what—"

Hermione's hand shot out and gripped McGonagall's wrist with surprising strength. "I know," she rasped. "But let's not—"

"Right." McGonagall put her hand over Hermione's and nodded. The professor then turned to Severus with a gratitude and kindness he'd never seen from anyone in his life. "Mr. Snape, twenty-five points to Slytherin. I'd hate to think of what might have happened had Hermione actually collapsed during ... her attack."

Severus couldn't do more than blink for a full minute. He'd been awarded house points. Outside the classroom. For being there for his friend.

"Thank you," he managed to get out. It was the only thing that came to mind. And before he felt the need to search for something more, Madam Pomfrey came in and looked Hermione over.

"Whatever happened doesn't seem to have any lasting effects," she stated. "And I'm sorry, Minerva, but I can't find the reason behind it. I have a suspicion, but I can't imagine the reason for it."

"Thank you, Poppy," McGonagall said, letting go of Hermione. "We should go to your office and have some tea. We can discuss your suspicions there."

The two women left the room, Madam Pomfrey closing the door only part way before she and McGonagall disappeared.

"I assume I missed classes; did you take notes?" Hermione asked once they were alone.

Severus laughed. Out of relief, and because he'd been right to assume that would be what she focused on after her ordeal. He laughed because, after being at death's door, Hermione Granger was so steadfast that her studies were still her priority.

"I have notes, you bloody swot. But maybe wait until you don't rival the Bloody Baron in complexion before diving into your studies."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he merely shook his head. And if he felt a twinge of fondness for her, well, perhaps one of those annoying flying cupids had nicked him in passing.

—————A—————

Aurora looked at the disgusting scarlet pieces of paper in front of her that she'd yet to open. If she had to guess, the majority of them were attempts at buying her father's favor. Give Aurora Snape a Valentine and maybe Professor Snape will go the day without saying anything mean or excuse a lack of homework. As if that would work.

"Well," Ginny asked morosely, pushing her peas around her plate. "Are you going to open them?"

"I'm not sure I should," Aurora replied.

Ginny huffed. "You're one of the only first years who has any."

That wasn't exactly a reason, but Aurora had noticed a few of the other first years looking at the envelopes that had been following her around. She'd even tried to leave them in her father's class, hoping they would suddenly find themselves on fire, but they had continued to float behind her after class. The sheer number had him scowling upon her entrance, and she could hear the sneer in the scoff when the little envelopes followed her out the door.

Plucking the first one from the stack, Aurora looked at the writing on the front. She didn't recognize it, nor did she recognize the next three. She thought the fifth might be from Seamus Finnegan, but that wasn't comforting or reassuring.

"I don't know anyone's handwriting."

"Are you sorting them, then?" Hermione Granger asked from a few seats down. Aurora nodded, and Hermione gave her a knowing grin. "Move your wand like this." She showed her the movement. "And say Amicus Revelare."

"Amicus Revelare," Aurora repeated, following the wand movement before tapping the cards. They shook, then sorted themselves out into two distinct piles: three cards, and then the rest. It didn't take much of a guess to figure out which pile was the one of genuine Valentines.

She picked up the first card.

Aurora,

Perhaps on this particular day, we can bury our animosities and focus once more on strengthening a union sought since our birth.

With warmest regards,

Draco

Aurora snorted. "Honestly," she said, looking over at the Slytherin table. Draco was laughing at something, and from the way they were carrying on, she'd wager that Ginny's musical Valentine (one Aurora tried so hard to convince her not to send) was still being mocked. Shaking her head, she tossed the card onto the brownnoser pile.

She pulled the next one out.

Rory,

Happy Valentine's Day.

Harry

The boy in question wasn't around, so she thought she'd thank him for it later the same way he thanked her for hers: a slight grin and a nod. She quickly slipped the card into the middle of the pile before Ginny saw it and became more downtrodden or wanted nothing to do with her. She grabbed the last letter.

Your mother and I were not big fans of this holiday during our school years, so if it fills you with a bit of nausea, know it's a familial trait.

Aurora laughed at that one, her father's spiky handwriting a welcome sight. She knew why he'd done it, though he would never admit it: he didn't want her to feel left out.

She glanced up at the head table and smiled fondly at her father. He was deep in a conversation with Aunt Min, both glancing at Professors Lockhart and Dumbledore, who smiled much more broadly than necessary.

She tucked the envelope into her robes. "Anyone know a Vanishing spell or can control an Incendio ?"

"I'll do it!" Seamus jumped up excitedly. There was a commotion of people clamoring to get him to sit back down, and during that, the pile disappeared.

Startled, Aurora looked around to find who did it. When she looked at the head table, she realized her father wasn't there anymore. Turning slightly, she caught him on his way out through the staff entrance, a slight smirk curling his lips.

But not a second later, something in her mind clicked. It had niggled her mind all day, she was sure there was something really strange about Ginny's Valentine, aside from comparing his eyes to a pickled toad. Watching her father leave made her remember why she had felt such unease.

"Ginny," she whispered, looking around as she leaned in to ensure no one was listening. "Why did you refer to—to You-Know-Who as the Dark Lord?"

Ginny blushed to her roots, her brown eyes going wide. "I just read it somewhere. And it rhymed."

A bad feeling curled in Aurora's gut and she averted her eyes as she started to speculate.

Aurora watched Ginny watch Harry eat his dinner with an intensity that screamed of fear more than childish admiration. It was almost as if at any moment she thought that Harry would hex her. She wasn't quite sure why, Ginny hadn't been talkative or friendly since Valentine's Day.

With a heavy sigh, she finished her homework and thought it best to head up to the dormitory. There wasn't anything else to do. No one to talk to.

Well, except Hagrid, she was sure he would still welcome her with open arms. And if that's how she would survive her Hogwarts education, she supposed there were worse things than hanging out only with adults.

She was just outside of the main doors when she stopped suddenly at the sight of a blonde girl laying on her back, arms out to the side, legs splayed awkwardly. Aurora's heart stopped and then sped up to a painful speed. She glanced around, seeing no one else around. She thought of turning back around and getting her father, but a little voice in her head told her to suck it up and check things herself. She didn't need to run to daddy for everything; she wasn't a little girl anymore.

At first, Aurora was shaking when she saw that the girl's blue eyes were open, but when the girl blinked, Aurora understood that she wasn't another victim of the Slytherin monster. She paused, wondering if maybe she should get Aunt Poppy.

"Have you ever noticed there's a map of the stars and planets on the ceiling?" the girl asked suddenly, and Aurora recognized her as Luna Lovegood. "I imagine you spent a lot of time here as a child. Did you ever just look up at the ceiling?"

Aurora came a little closer, looking around again before awkwardly sitting on the floor beside Luna. "Er, just in my room. I mean, the room in my dad's—Professor Snape's—chambers. It, er, well it didn't have a map of the stars or anything." She frowned. "It was ... a raven. A glowing image of a raven and a lioness. The raven flew, making a figure eight around the lioness and she played with it, trying to bat at it or catch it in her mouth. They were always blue, like a—"

"Like a Patronus," Luna said, a dreamy smile coming over her petite face. "That's actually quite lovely. Probably a representation of your parents."

"Yeah," Aurora said. After glancing around again, she decided to join Luna on the floor.

She was right: engraved in the gold stone ceiling were clear images of the solar system. It was massive, showing the sun in the center, the planets around it, the position of all the constellations.

"It's enchanted," Luna said. "The planets have shifted since I first noticed. I'm always too sleepy to go to Astronomy and really pay attention, so sometimes I come down here and look up to have a better understanding of what Professor Sinistra talked about."

"You would think it would be the founders up there. Or the house symbols," Aurora said thoughtfully.

"This is much better, I think," Luna said serenely.

Aurora heard the distinct steps long before the person came close. She tilted her head and shifted her eyes as much as she could to see her father looming over them with a scowl on his face.

"Miss Lovegood, Miss Snape, why are you laying on the floor?" he asked.

"We're studying the planets and the stars," Aurora replied, and then added a hasty, "Sir."

"And how does one do that in daylight, inside, in the Entrance Hall?"

"The ceiling, Professor Snape," Luna said without a care, pointing upward. "But I suppose it's not the best thing to do when people are bound to come by." She got up, and Aurora quickly moved to do the same.

Professor Snape scowled. "Ten points from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor." Aurora's cheeks heated at the loss. "You can explain to your housemates why you lost points. I imagine that's punishment enough without adding detention."

"Yes, sir," Aurora said, bowing her head.

"Of course, professor. Given what has transpired this year, it was unwise to do it," Luna conceded, though she didn't sound the least bit contrite. She then turned to Aurora. "Would you like to come with me on a walk around the grounds? The Wrackspurts really don't like the coolness lingering on the grounds, so the walk will clear your head."

Aurora shrugged and allowed Luna to lead the way. At this rate, a friend was a friend.

She glanced over her shoulder to say something to her dad but didn't dare to when she saw him looking up at the ceiling as though he'd never seen it before.

"Harry." Aurora kept her voice low, trying not to draw attention now that she finally had a moment with him without Ron at his side. She was shaking, though tried to hide it. "I ... er ... I was wondering if maybe I could, er, borrow your, ah, cloak."

Harry frowned. "My cloak?"

"Yeah," she said, pulling at one of her loose curls. "You know the one that makes you, er, not noticed?"

Harry's eyes went wide, and he looked frantically around while leaning in and asking, "How do you know about that?"

Aurora arched a brow in such a perfect imitation of her father that Harry visibly flinched. "Ron isn't very good at keeping things to himself. Ginny told me about it, said she heard all about it from Ron, who told Fred and George. Or something like that. I didn't tell Dad," she rushed to add when Harry looked apprehensive. "But I just ... I want to go see him."

"Rory, it's not safe," Harry said, though she could tell by his tone that that was not at all the reason he was saying no. He shifted as she continued to stare at him, and then eventually sighed. He leaned toward her. "Promise me this won't get back to your dad."

"Of course," she said immediately.

"Ron and I ... we're going to go see Hagrid after dark."

"Hagrid?" Aurora frowned. "Why? It can't be for his rock cakes. I lost my first two teeth trying to eat one of those." The memory of her two front teeth missing made her shift uncomfortably. The Muggle kids had teased her relentlessly for it.

"We think ... we think he knows something about the Chamber of Secrets," Harry confessed, glancing around again to make sure they weren't listening.

Aurora snorted. "Doubtful. Hagrid was a Gryffindor, and—"

"He was expelled fifty years ago; around the same time the Chamber was last closed," Harry hurried to explain.

Aurora paled at the thought, refusing to even entertain the idea. Yes, Hagrid had a thing for 'misunderstood creatures,' but he wouldn't unleash something that caused so much damage.

"I don't want to believe it, either," Harry assured her. "But it's all too coincidental."

"Yeah ...." A heaviness settled in her chest before she took in a deep breath. "I won't be long, an hour at most."

He sighed, then smiled. "All right. Give me a moment, but don't put it on in here, slip it on outside."

—————A—————

Once Aurora had the cloak in place, she ran for the hospital wing. She met no one on the way and while she was terrified of what could be lurking around the corner, she didn't slow down for anything. The door to the hospital wing was open just a crack and after a quick glance around to make sure no one was there, she took off the cloak and went inside.

She wasn't at all surprised to see her dad sitting beside the bed with a Petrified Hermione Granger on it.

He didn't glance up as she approached, but he opened his arm for her to come and tuck herself into his side like she used to when she was younger.

"I can't think of her as your mother." His voice was barely above a whisper, as though he were worried he'd disturb the girl. "There's a disconnect. This Hermione is an entirely different one from the girl I met my fourth year. But she looks enough like you ... it's as though she's a relative, a niece or a cousin. But it's moments like this ..."

"But she'll be all right. She came to you."

"She did, does, will." He was quiet again. "Lucius has managed to get Professor Dumbledore fired. Avoid Draco, if you can. Between that and this happening to Hermione, he'll be insufferable."

She nodded, and they remained quiet, drawing comfort from each other.

"I'm worried about Ginny," she said after a while.

He frowned. "Miss Weasley? I'm afraid I don't know Ginevra Weasley well. Why are you worried about her?"

"She's always been sort of quiet," Aurora explained. "Ron Weasley likes reminding her that he's older and friends with Harry. She sort of just ... lets him do it. The twins, they tease her too. Well, not tease really, but they don't help. They're nice, really, but—"

"Rory," her father interrupted her rambling, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Right. Well, Ginny had this diary that she would write in every night. But I think it's cursed. It feels weird to me."

"Weird how?" The glint of amusement was starting to fade as he processed her words.