"You have a son?" the horse asked again and Severus could almost have pity on her. Stupid woman hadn't realised that she had been played with so far. And she would feel even more stupid if she realised that he had so far, possibly only told her lies.
"I have a son," Malfoy sighed. "Shall we..."
"We'll just go into the library and then leave when we have what we need," interrupted Severus again. As much as he wanted to witness Lucius making a fool of himself, Granger and himself had got the ball rolling, so to speak and the rest was up to him and his horse to do. Granger looked a little angry though and he couldn't blame her for wanting to see this. She had been humiliated by Malfoy more often than he had and those two had never been friends, not even such friends as he and him had been.
But — their task was clear. They had a job to do and he had a lecture to attend to later. Besides, he did not fancy seeing a Viscountess get angry. Or any woman getting angry for that matter. Angry women were hysterical, irrational, silly and stupid. All of the things he disliked. And their voice was pitched in a way which was painful for any normal human ear.
"Son, Luci? How old is he? I know you told me you were married but you never said you had children," the horse said and he quickly took Granger's elbow and pulled her away.
"Stop," she hissed, glaring, "I want to see this."
"No, you don't," he snapped back, pulling her with him still. "This is none of your business and you should be happy to realise that you started it and that should be enough for you."
"What? Why? I didn't start it. Just...if he can give me a loony episode, I can give his bit of Viscountess stuff a bit of a loony episode..."
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Have you forgot the purpose of our little outing?"
"No, I haven't but...do you feel sorry for him?" she asked quizzically, trying to stop walking and since his hand wouldn't move from her elbow, he had to stop also.
"No, I don't feel sorry for him," he glared at her. "Can we now find those books?"
.
It was remarkably easy to snap out of her possibly self-imposed state of shock. As soon as she realised that with the little use of his first name, she could annoy Malfoy more than anything, showing him disrespect in any way that she could in front of a Muggle who knew nothing whatsoever about magic, it had been like, well, easy. Not like riding a bike since she hadn't yet shown that kind of polite disrespect to a person before but it had been marvellous. It had made the entire shocked state, her loony episode a bit — worth it. If Snape thought he could make her feel insecure by showing her this display, he had another thing coming and she hoped that with her own display towards Malfoy, she had made that perfectly clear.
On the other hand...he hadn't seemed like he was trying to drive her insane. He had seemed almost honestly concerned about her. His eyes had been remarkably warm and kind when he had taken hold of her upper arms and had gently shaken her back into reality. He had seemed honestly — worried. Still. She wasn't going to be fooled that easily.
She had started something with Malfoy and that plain Viscountess who looked remarkably unremarkable and for a moment, she even pitied the poor woman. She had made sure that the woman knew that she had been lied to and that was something which, Hermione knew from experience, hurt.
She looked at Snape as he tried to drag her into the Manor and sighed. "Yes, let's go and find those books." Casting a last glance towards the couple, her glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest and him, looking almost too pretty to be standing there.
"Poor thing," she muttered and felt herself pushed by the elbow again.
"What?"
"I said poor thing," repeated Hermione as they entered the house, his hand slowly falling from her elbow.
"And why would you say that?" he asked and appeared quite uninterested, almost bored, in fact.
"Seriously, she's quite plain, isn't she? And he is a pretty boy even though I suppose you have to be into his type to think he's pretty and with the plaid trousers he looks kind of idiotic but she's so plain and he's too pretty and I suppose she wondered about him and whether it was only about the money, which I suppose it is, and then she finds out, thanks to me, that he's lied to her and I suppose she would feel her trust crumbling, if there was trust and that's why I said poor thing."
"You should have thought of the consequences earlier, Granger," he grumbled.
"Yes, I suppose so but I did feel quite out of my mind, to be honest," she giggled softly. "You couldn't have warned me, I suppose."
"And spoil the fun?"
"Yeah, I see," her giggle stopped immediately and her face fell. She was only entertainment to him. Only stupid entertainment. Something to pass the time. She took a deep and silent breath and, just after looking over her shoulder to make sure there was nobody following them, she pulled the wand from her sleeve to see if there were wards around the library.
"No wards," she said voicelessly and let Snap step in. She had stood up and had tried to humiliate Malfoy and it was only entertainment to Snape. A means of transportation and entertainment. A wand in a hand that would do whatever Snape commanded. That was the sum total of what she was to him. Nothing more, nothing less. She shrugged to herself, following Snape into Malfoy's library.
"He changed the covers of the books," Snape said calmly, businesslike.
"Finite," replied she with a little wave of her wand and the books were restored to their original way. "What are we looking for?" she asked and knew that she sounded discouraged. He had been worried earlier, had seemed worried, only because she was stupid entertainment on the Janus Thickey Ward. Or the entire thing had only been in her mind. He hadn't been worried about her but maybe just about the way he was supposed to get home if she should find herself incapacitated. Or something.
She was tired and her head hurt. This crush was draining her. This wasn't the happy kind of crush. This wasn't a day-dreaming, heart-doodling kind of thing. This was hopeless and she knew it. Her shoulders felt heavy and she wanted to apparate away and wanted to run away from this entire thing. She was nothing more to him than...she was nothing to him and it made her feel small and unremarkable and stupid and self-conscious. It made her feel ugly and unworthy. It made her want to fall into a heap in the corner of her room and cry for her mummy.
But it wasn't long until they'd find the right chant, by that eliminating the death-threat that would be imminent if they used a regular curse-breaker with his wooden mallet methods (she remembered very well that any regular curse-breaking would kill him. The chant would, hopefully, cancel that) and then she could vanish from his life. That kind of evil crush would end and she could be herself again. Happy and reading and not embarrassing herself every five minutes.
"Granger, are you listening to me?" he snapped.
"I was listening," she groaned. "We're looking for, erm, Thucydides's Chants. I wasn't aware we had moved onto the Greeks but so be it," she replied, keeping her voice steady and calm and almost bored.
He rolled his eyes. "So you haven't listened. I explained, in all detail, that it was the Ancient Greek who used chants in their plays and whose priests used them. For exorcisms as well. Or what they considered that. Since we are..."
"I heard you," she snapped.
He eyed her strangely for a moment or two, then gestured towards a plushy, worn armchair. "Sit."
"No."
"Sit, you're obviously still exhausted from that loony episode as you called it and you need rest."
"I'm not," she snapped. "I'm just..."
"Yes?"
"Nothing," she shook her head. "Do you know if his books are somehow sorted? Alphabetically?"
"They're not. Never have been."
"No system whatsoever?"
"You start over there, I start here. If you come across anything on exorcisms, or curse-breaking, shrink it and put it in your pocket and you will fill the gaps later," he instructed and she couldn't help the quick curtsey she dipped with a grimace.
"Yes, master," she hissed and a split second later, he had swooped down upon her, it seemed, his hands, as before, grasping her upper arms. The shake she was given this time was harder, however and he stared intently into her eyes.
"Don't ever call me that," he spat angrily and her eyes widened in fear and understanding.
.
He found it first. It stood there, small and slim and black. The book which would, hopefully, help him get his magic back without killing him. He remembered the words well — 'remove the curse, you'll die'. But all the research and all the books he and Granger and Malfoy had consulted came to the same conclusion. The right chant, the right words and the curse could be removed without his death. Dangerous were only, according to the books, curse-breaking in the regular sense of the word was deadly. Curse-breaking with brute force would mean death.
It didn't matter, he thought as he pulled the tiny book from the shelf and crossed the room towards Granger. Woman worked her way silently through the billions of books and never took her eyes off their spines and titles.
"I have it, Granger," he said softly. Woman should have rested. She had a loony episode, as she called it, and was still, with slumped shoulders and tired-looking eyes working for his counter-curse. She should have rested and should have just sat down when he had suggested it. Instead, she had to insult him and be too stubborn.
"Oh good," she said, a sarcastic note in her voice. "Would you like me to..." she stopped and shook her head, scratching her eyebrows and rubbing her eyes.
"Would I like you to do what, Granger?" he asked.
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you need any more? I found three more that might be helpful," she said, pulling miniature books from her pockets.
"Would you shrink those too?" he handed her the few books he had collected.
Without looking at him or saying something, she pointed her wand at the books and a second later, they had vanished into her pocket as well, just in time for both of them to be rather startled by a door being wrenched open violently and then banged shut.
"You idiotic Mudblood," Lucius shouted, a blueish vein on his temple throbbing massively. "And you, Snape, what was the purpose of that?"
"Mudblood again, am I?" Granger pulled herself up to her full height, the formerly tired-looking eyes alert now.
"You know very well you are," he spat. "Get out of my house."
"Gladly," she spat back. "But you know that you're...with a Muggle?" She turned around and stomped towards the door.
"Lucius," Severus tried to soothe. "You should have told her about Draco at least."
"She doesn't know about Draco any more now than she did before you arrived."
"You obliviated her?" Granger gasped. "My God, you're..."
"Be careful, Mudblood," the blonde grew quiet and dangerous and his wand was edged out of his sleeve.
"You have no decency at all. Why don't you steal money? That would be more honest than this."
"High and mighty Miss Gryffindor," Lucius sneered. "I do not think any of this is your business."
"Draco is my friend," she said angrily.
"Out," he repeated. "And you can go with her and the books stay."
Severus wasn't sure what to say. The books were safely in Granger's pockets and they could leave. It was a simple matter of getting out of the house and telling her to apparate them away. Maybe not startle her this time with the hand-holding. But Granger had other ideas.
"You could never change. You sent Draco back so you didn't have to explain that you have a son. That makes no sense at all anyway. What's so bad about having a son? It's money again, isn't it? It's always money and power," hissed Granger. "That poor woman. Will be obliviated so often that you she will have to be happy to remember her own name by the time she's forty. You just use her like you use everyone."
"Granger," he said quickly and moved to her side. The vein on Lucius's temple grew even further and the wand twitched in his fingers. "Stop."
"No, I won't stop," she pointed her own wand at Malfoy. "What else do you do with her? Imperius her?"
"Granger, stop it," he repeated, louder this time.
.
She wasn't sure where all this anger was coming from. She knew she had no right to judge Malfoy and she knew she spoke out of turn. She knew it wasn't her place to say and she knew that he would try to hex her or curse her any moment now. Her shield was half-cast already but she still didn't know what had triggered this — the word she so hated even though it had never held any meaning for her when she had been a child? Or Snape's treatment of her? Combined with her loony episode? She didn't know.
What she did know was that she was angry at Malfoy. Angry at him for playing God and putting himself above any Muggles again. Demonstrating it by obliviating the Viscountess.
She heard Snape telling her to stop and she could see how angry Malfoy was getting. She could see it and she didn't act on it.
"What else do you do with her? Imperius her?"
Snape told her to stop again and put a hand on her arm which she shrugged off immediately. She was done being played with. She wasn't weak. She could defend herself. Unlike that poor woman.
"When she doesn't want? Do you make her? Obliviate her when she remembers? I despise you, Malfoy," she exclaimed.
"Snape get that insane girl out of my house before..."
"Before what? Before you torture the Mudblood again? Try it, Malfoy, try it. I know what it's like. It happened just over there, just a few doors away," her voice went cold and steely.
"Granger, come on," she felt herself dragged out of the room and Malfoy followed them, unaware that she had the books in her pocket.
"You will get what you deserve," she shouted over her shoulder as she felt herself being lifted up and thrown...over a shoulder.
"Snape, let me down!"
"Yes, as soon as we're out of his reach," the man who had obviously thrown her over his shoulder hissed angrily. "And as soon as we get home, you rest." He ordered. He ordered her around.
"Why?"
"Because you don't think straight," he said with difficulty, carrying her out of the house.
"Let me down. I can think straight and I can walk on my own."
"As long as you can apparate straight, that should be enough," he replied immediately and just because she had to prove that she could, she scrunched her eyes shut tight and, as he still held her, or rather had one hand on the back of her thigh and the other on her shoulder, she held onto his upper arm, and apparated. Just to prove that she could.
