There was a slightly sinister feel about the chambers. She turned around in a half circle slowly, making sure to look at everything. There were so many small contraptions, some of them made noises all the time, some only at certain points in the day. And even more, some that were completely hostile to any kind of examination and let out piercing shrieks when feeling impressed upon in an untoward way. But it wasn`t those contraptions that left her uneasy. She`d spent the greater part of her days so far alone, and whether that gave her a finer intuition to the unforeseen, or she was going crazy, she wasn`t sure. But the silence, it wasn`t really silence. And the foreboding feeling that she was missing something was growing

After seeing Snape in the light she had, things had been different. Inexplicably, her feelings had changed almost irreversibly. The opinions she`d had of him before now seemed so harsh and she felt a painful shame for ever considering them. The headmaster was not a Death Eater any more so than she was. Perhaps in name and association, but there was no real intent in his eyes, no motivation in his words or inspiration in his actions and for the first time, she counted herself lucky that it was him who had her captured and not someone else. It became very clear to her, very suddenly, that Ron and her had been biased to a fault. She had known Harry had hated Snape from the very beginning. She could remember very clearly their first potions class ever and how Professor Snape had blamed Harry for Neville's indiscretions. Surely Snape had deserved a certain amount of ill will. But perhaps Harry's opinions of the man had been exacerbated in to something unrecognizable.

Of course, his opinion of her hadn`t changed. He still spent as little time with her as possible, occasionally engaging her in a study of the limitations on her curse. They both found as time went by that she could afford more liberty in her movements and her denials. Whether that was because the curse was slowly ebbing away of its own accord, or punishment had merely not manifested itself because she was no longer disobeying him out of new opinions, she wasn`t sure. He was hard pressed to think it could be the former. A curse like that didn`t just go away so to speak and he was ever more worried it was only in slumber to come back with a vengeance.

She busied herself with the books McGonagall had procured for her. They were hefty and she read them thoroughly so as not to miss even a nuance that might pertain to her situation. It took up most of her time and a part of her was glad for it. It wasn`t until she`d found an unassuming chapter on house elves which she almost skipped over, that she found something that might help them.

`PROFESSOR! PRO-`she crashed right in to him and felt the weight of the book press the air out of her lungs.

`Yes.`

Ì think I might have found something about the curse, the-`

`Show me.` No snarky remarks, just hope. She pressed the text in between them and supported the bottom with her other hand.

`Though house elves are coerced in to the loyalty they have to their masters by their own nature, they are sometimes freed from the natural bonds that tie them to their familial obligations. This is often done by the presentation of wearable garment by the master to the servant. However, in some rare cases when a genuine affection develops for elf, the master`s desire for the elf to be free can alter the relationship and give the elf up to its own free will.`

She stopped and caught her breath, the excitement of finally finding something presentable warming her face. There was no answer however, and when she looked up to see the Professor`s angered gaze, her excitement washed away in to trepidation.

`What exactly are you suggesting.`

`Well… I was, here-`she pointed at the text, as if seeing it for himself would force him to understand.

`Which part do I find most absurd, the fact that the great Hermione Granger has just compared herself to a house elf-`

`There`s nothing wrong with house-`

``Or the fact that you suggested I might hold affection for you.``

`Maybe you-``

``Miss Granger, I can assure you, there is not a wits of warm feeling toward you that I harbor that might affect the outcome of this curse. I suggest you keep looking.``

`Wait!`

`What?" he sneered.

`What about that night…`

Her voice had started in a shout and ended quietly as he laid his most withering gaze on her.

`That night?` he repeatedly silkily.

`When you called me to your… bed.`

`That was a mistake. An accident. I can`t control my mind when I am asleep just as much as you fail to control that mouth of yours when you are awake.`

`Sir-`

`You want me to admit I have a soft spot for you. To add some kind of meaning to this entire debacle when there is no meaning to be found. There is a megalomaniac thirsty for power and death, there is me and there is you. We are both victims here, I no less than you, Miss Granger.. What modicum of kindness I show you does not equate to an affection deep enough to override a centuries old curse.``

He was quite finished, and made as such apparent however, the obstinate Gryffindor was not.

``Why did you call me to your bed then.`

They hadn`t spoken about it properly since it happened.

`Why did you let me rest my head on your knee the other day.`

Another thing they had never mentioned again.

`Don't flatter yourself Granger. Loneliness favors no shape.`

`You`re not as cruel as you make yourself out to be.` she stated, closing the text and folding it to her chest as armor. If you were, you would have killed me by now, or used me for exactly what the Dark Lord intended when he… gave me to you. But I`m still alive, and despite your rather dangerous temper, I am unharmed and healthy. Those must be your desires, otherwise it wouldn`t be so. `

He opened his mouth to argue but she pressed on.

`Furthermore, I think we both know that you prefer when I`m around more than if I`m not. ` Her referral to the many times he`d called to her unknowingly, passed between them and landed on his shoulders. " If that`s what you need, if that`s what you want, I can do it Sir.``

She managed one more glance before setting her gaze on the carpet. He couldn`t deny her evidence and it seemed his inability to refute her had stunned him in to anger. But what good could come from continuously pushing it aside and letting it sit there. If they understood how this curse worked, at least they could figure out a way to make it work for them instead of against them. She took a deep breath and continued

`Sir-`

"Enough Granger, that is enough.`

His voice was suddenly weary and he sat in hi favored winged back chair against the fire.

"Ì am sorry.` he stated.

She wasn`t sure if he was apologizing in admission or for his temper but she dared not ask. Instead her forgiveness was all encompassing as she resumed her spot with her head against his knee. He didn't touch her, gave no sign of pleasure or displeasure but without actions or words they had come to some kind of understanding. He cared for her, enough to give her as much of a free will as he could.

"It doesn't explain why I can't hear your commands in my head all the time, this curse, it's supposed to be intense, isn't it?"

`Yes.` he agreed. It only explained why she wasn`t completely at his mercy, driven insane by his commands and desires. She looked in to the fire for a little while and watched as the flames flared once, twice, three times, as if the floo was being activated. No one entered the headmaster`s private quarters however. "It would have driven any sane person completely mad by now."

`Professor`

`Yes.`

`Can-can muggleborns have house elves`

`No. There`s no magic to tie them. A house elf can choose who to serve, they can be fiercely loyal to anyone. But the reason why so many elves serve pureblood families is because the magical draw is so strong. A wizard`s magic is part of what drives such loyalty.`

`What about an elf with no magic? Would it still make a magical tie`

`What good would an elf with no magic be` he asked already battling with a disdain for the nosey creatures. An elf with no magic would be completely unbearable.

She didn`t press the matter further. Instead she started to gaze again at the tattoo on her arm. The question she'd been meaning to ask him, but never found the right time to suddenly made its self clear.

"Professor"

"Yes, Miss Granger" he muttered.

"Can you tell me about your family? About the crest?"

There was a brief moment of silence as he decided if he would in fact tell her. To relay intimate details about his past and his heritage seemed redundant, but he supposed they were harmless details.

"The Prince Family is one of the oldest pureblood families in England. The name came from a time when there were in fact Princes and Princesses-"

"Wizarding Britain had Monarchies?"

"Yes" he sounded surprised she hadn't known. "The idea of divine right was actually a concept that had its roots in magical power. The so called gift of human divinity was only a manifestation of magic. Of course a developing mistrust of magic and anything muggles could hardly understand soon pushed wizards in to reclusion. And so we had our own monarchies for a time, but a species as advanced as us could hardly hold on to something so archaic." Hermione snorted, thinking of all the medieval technologies wizards still employed. "Never-the-less, the Prince family had been one of the first ruling families after the divide. The family Crest was a fitting symbol and it was kept long after our reign as a symbol of power and a reminder of it as well."

"And now? What of the Prince name?"

"There are a few Princes left. My grandmother and my uncle. My mother died long ago. It seems the name will die out soon." There was no sadness in his voice. She felt if her family had such an amazing history she'd be proud, but this was Snape. He didn't take pride in seemingly illogical things like one's heritage.

"And the wheat?" she fingered the wisps of wheat that were held in the crown. Now that she knew the crown had actually represented royalty, she was curious to know how such a contrasting symbol of wheat would play in.

"I beg your pardon?" she raised her arm for his examination and he moved away to garner a better look. "What the devil?" he pulled her arm (rather roughly) closer to his face for examination. "That was never part of it." He muttered.

She looked at his face from where she still sat on the floor. For just a brief moment this all seemed rather fantastical. She would never have assumed to know the Potions Professor well enough to be lounging on his study floor, now with her arm in his grasp. His fingers were strong and large, calloused and well-manicured. They held her in place with a strong force, but not enough to harm her. However the look he proceeded to give her brought her rather quickly back to her very real reality.

"Why did you not mention this before?" he asked, letting her arm drop and standing up.

"What do you mean?" she asked, standing as well. "You knew I had the branding."

"That is a bastardization of my family crest. There was never any wheat, ever."

"What do you think it means then?" Had Voldemort tied her to the wrong family? Had he made a mistake? Professor Snape gave her a hard look as he thought of the implication. Not one to be left confused for long, realization daned on him as apparently as the morning sun after a frigid night.

"Granger."

"Yes."

"No. no. Granger, it means?"

"I don't know-"

"Farmer, it means farmer in Old English if I'm not mistaken."

Suddenly the tattoo on her arm meant something entirely different. It wasn't just Professor Snape's family crest tattooed on her arm to claim his property. It was a combination of her and him, just as it had been throughout this entire time. Her will had been hers and yet not hers at all. She had been a kind of servant to him, tied to him but not tied at all. It was the combination of the two, her and him that had saved her from the completion of the curse.

"It must have been some kind of mistake, some kind of alteration in the magic… What was it you said about house elves?"

"What?" she was dizzy with confusion.

"You were drabbling on about muggles and house elves."

"I asked you if a house elf could be tied to a muggle…"

He paced away from her, his expression drawn in to a deep frown. He was thinking very seriously about something and the thought that they might be close to an answer made her feel giddy.

"The curse must not have worked as the Dark Lord had intended." He finally muttered. "Because-"

"Because I'm muggle born."

"It would be like a tie between a house elf with no magic, and a wizard. Except you very well have magic. It was your descendancy as a muggle that saved you from most of the curse." He pointed at her arm again. "It's your magical abilities that draw you to me, that force you to comply against your wishes."

"And" she remembered what she had just read "my loyalty to you."

"I can't see it being much, by far." He said the words but he barely believed them now. The mutual affection they seemed to hold for each other was undeniable now.

Finally, after two months of absolutely nothing, here was something. She felt relief knowing they knew something, finally. If they could work with it, maybe they could combat this curse once and for all.

Her relief was short lived as she watched Snape's expression turn from one of thought and understanding to dreadful passivity.

"My Lord." He stated as he bowed his head. Hermione turned to look behind her and saw standing in all of his grotesque power, the monster who had put her here in the first place and whose reign had showered terror and pain over her for the past seven years. Standing before her was Lord Voldemort and beside him Alecto Carrow with a funeral urn in her hands.