ONE – Up to His Old Tricks

Harry shook his head for perhaps the hundredth time that evening as he, Ron, and Hermione sat around the common room fire. They had been there for a majority of the evening, not really sure what to do with themselves until the feast started. No one said it, but it seemed that the very air had thickened with knowledge of Voldemort's return and the following debate from witches and wizards who were in complete denial.

"I swear I never got a single letter."

"We did write you mate, we promise. Think the owls got sick of us trying." Ron said chewing on some licorice he had bought on the train.

"We did, Harry. I'm sorry you never got anything." Hermione said distractedly.

She was thinking of her own post, a nondescript owl she had received this morning with an equally nondescript letter. Except of course, the content was quite interesting. Professor McGonagall had summoned her to a meeting with the headmaster right after the feast. Hermione had been instructed not to tell anyone. She had noticed that none of her things had been unpacked by the elves and she wondered vaguely if they were expelling her for some ridiculous reason. She couldn't think of anything else. Unless she was supposed to help Harry with Voldemort. She shook her head, that was doubtful at this point.

"You alright 'Mione?" Harry asked, looking over his glasses.

"Oh fine. Thinking about classes this term."

Ron chuckled. "Typical Hermione."

The feast was only a touch less jolly than usual, although Hufflepuff still had a certain solemnity to it. Cedric Diggory's death still haunted them. It haunted everyone, but in different manners. Hermione could not help but to glance at the staff table now and again, looking from Dumbledore to McGonagall, trying to figure out what was going to happen next. McGonagall never seemed to look away from her plate. Dumbledore and Professor Snape talked with their heads together and Hermione decided Snape looked irritable. She still had doubts about his loyalty but she decided, after a rather long debate with herself, that that was appropriate given the circumstances. But she also felt no suspicion in trusting him, which was a lot more than Harry and Ron could say given their outright hatred of the man.

Hermione waited until both McGonagall and Dumbledore left the room before she rose out of her seat and wove her way slowly to the headmaster's office. She didn't glance at the staff table again, and was deaf to the boys' calls wondering where she was going. The halls were nearly empty, most students were still stuffing their face in the Great Hall, and the gargoyle on the seventh floor let her up with a whispered password. Hermione rolled her eyes as the staircase rose, pepper mint nibs, she thought, his passwords get more ridiculous every year.

SHSHSH

Severus Snape leaned against a wall in the shadows of Dumbledore's office, his thin lips pinched in irritation. He was absolutely certain this was the worst plan Dumbledore had ever thought of. It was positively foolish and Snape dared to guess that the headmaster had taken this harebrained scheme from a cheesy muggle novel. Pool trash, his mother had called it. Snape nearly rolled his eyes and gave up on the whole thing when Granger walked through the door. She was so, very, annoyingly Gryffindor: her school tie of burgundy and gold, the arrogantly proud way she carried herself (especially for a fifteen year old), for Merlin's sake she even had a burgundy ribbon tied of neatly at the end of her braid. He breathed out sharply through his nose and saw her freeze and stare in his direction.

"Um, excuse me professors, but why is Professor Snape here?"

"Because his services are required at this meeting." Dumbledore smiled over his glasses and motioned to a chair in front of his desk. "Please sit. And do have a lemon drop, I am afraid I've had too many already."

Hermione do as she was bid, obediently popping a lemon drop in her mouth. At first Snape wanted to scoff, dutiful little Gryffindor. But then as he watched, he realized she had only taken the lemon drop to keep herself from asking a million questions he could see spinning around her head. Interesting. He hadn't even known Granger could not ask questions.

"We have decided to relocate your sleeping arrangements." Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh please!" McGonagall scoffed. "Tell the poor girl the whole truth."

Hermione glanced in almost disguised horror between the two. Dumbledore cleared his throat will a jolly little smile and Snape decided the old man was enjoying this too much. "Now, Miss Granger, this is a bit, unconventional of me to attempt, but to do so could change everything."

"What do you mean, professor?"

"Well, we are going to re-sort you."

"What?!" She looked like a fawn seeing a predator for the first time, Snape thought, and he had to admit she looked decently shocked. "Isn't that impossible? I mean, how would you even do...that..." Hermione's voice faded as she caught sight of the sorting hat.

She looked from McGonagall to Snape, back to the hat then to Dumbledore. "You can't be serious." She breathed.

Snape took a step towards the small group. "Indeed we are Miss Granger." She visibly swallowed and he was tempted to smirk.

"I've asked the sorting hat to reconsider its choice and see if perhaps you would be a suitable Slytherin." Dumbledore explained. "This has never been done before I cannot honestly say what will happen next."

"Why, Headmaster?" Snape studied her again, whatever she was feeling about this insane idea, she was doing a fair job of keeping it hidden and he silently approved, with a little training she'd be set to carry on this ridiculous façade. Snape glanced at the sorting hat, but if the hat declared it so, was it really a façade?

"We need you to help Professor Snape. Having only one spy between the light and the dark is proving to be a taxing requirement." Snape glared at Dumbledore but the headmaster seemed not to see it. "Since you have been close to Harry and Ron for several years, you will have information he does not."

"And it might just save your life." Snape drawled. He'd been asked to say it, to pretend like he gave a damn.

"How?"

"Because you are muggle born. If you prove yourself undeniably useful to the Dark Lord, he may find some room for you in his new world." Snape hissed.

"If- and only if- it comes to that." McGonagall said, tossing a glare in Snape's general direction.

"There's one more thing, Miss Granger, before you agree." Hermione only stared at Dumbledore. "Your relationships with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley must be suspended for the time being, you must be completely convincing."

Hermione closed her eyes and Snape could swear the wheels turning in her head were causing static in her hair. "Okay."

The room went eerily silent. No one had really expected her consent, they thought they would have to bribe, plead, maybe cast a confundus charm. But she sounded sure of herself. McGonagall picked up the sorting hat and gingerly placed it over Hermione's head, squeezing her shoulder as she let go. The silence continued, the hat moving as it mumbled. And suddenly the silence was broken with a low spoken, "she'll do," from the hat.

"You need to say it." Dumbledore encouraged.

"SLYTHERIN!" The sorting hat boomed with the same confidence it had shouted Gryffindor four years previous. Hermione was certain the walls shook and the entirety of the wizarding world could hear the gravelly voice that declared her fall from the side of light.

McGonagall rushed to remove the hat, acting as if it was a soiled diaper. Hermione realized that McGonagall was no longer her head of house. Would she really have to go to Snape when she wanted advice? Surely not... With a sudden tightness in her chest that felt like a door being slammed in her face, she knew without a doubt nothing would ever be the same. Harry and Ron would hate her. In fact, most of the school would hate her. She would be a traitor to three of the houses and bottom-feeding muggle scum to her own house.

"Congratulations Granger, you are the first muggle-born in Slytherin history." Snape sneered at her.

"The elves are moving your things to your new rooms, Miss Granger. Professor Snape will show you the way." Dumbledore stood and led Hermione to the door where she cast one last longing look at McGonagall, as if that would change her fate, then hurried to catch up will the sullen potions master.