A/N: I began this in another attempt at escapism from exam stress, and sadly, my plot bunnies ran out of juice, so this chapter was rather long in the making. I hope it's worth the wait for you all. I may not be allowed to reply to reviews in chapters now. but I'll do my best to answer by means of email, if you review, of course :)

Chapter 16: Departure

That incident kept him awake for most of that night. Although his mind shied away from the thought, he examined every scrap of memory that contained her, picking them apart and analysing the emotions enfolded in them, and they communicated to his intellect what his subconscious had already figured out: His feelings for the girl who slept in the room on the other side of his wall were beyond platonic. Hell, they were so far off the path it wasn't even visible anymore.

He sighed aloud and scrubbed his face, idly wondering which trickster deity had taken it into his or her head to make him develop feelings for someone who, to all appearances, was a sworn rival of his. Not that he resented it, mind, it was just that the consequences for this were terrifying in all its possibilities; his father would probably disown him in the blink of an eye. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as a mental image of him telling his father, "Father, I'm in love with Hermione Granger" popped into his head. Right, that would go down really well with the old man. He might even die of apoplexy on the spot, if he was fortunate.

Hearing the grandfather clock in the common room strike three in the morning, he grunted and rolled over, resolutely closing his eyes. He had a reputation to maintain, and purple eye-circles would not be at all conducive to that particular endeavour.

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Not for the first time and probably not for the last, she was awoken by insistent tapping on her windowpane. Groaning, she grabbed her wand from her bedside table and flicked it at the window, steadfastly refusing to open her eyes. Unluckily for her, the owl, apparently acting under orders that the recipient must read the missive upon delivery, flapped onto the pillow and hooted insistently until she yielded and cracked her eyes open just enough to take the letter. "Biscuits on my desk," she told the feathered messenger hoarsely and squinted in the early morning light to see the seal. Finally breaking it, she lighted the candle on her nightstand and pushed herself up to read the familiar script through sleep-blurred eyes.

When she finally managed to get the point of the written words across to her brain through the heavy fog which helpfully spoke of inadequate sleep, she grumbled under her breath, checked the clock, grunted and flopped back to bed. Slayer she may be, but sleep was still imperative.

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Too short a time later, a jet of water hit her full in the face, sending her tumbling out of bed spluttering. Finally regaining her bearings, she got to her feet and gave the clock sitting innocuously on her nightstand a glare. Flicking her wand, she stopped the alarm and stamped into the bathroom, muttering about too-smart wizards who invented clocks to wake people up in the worst way possible.

Half her invective, however, was also directed at herself, as she had obviously slept through the shrilling of the alarm and the little magical device had to resort to water. What kind of Slayer did she make if she couldn't even wake up quickly in the morning?

Leaving a note in the common room to notify Draco of her whereabouts, she climbed down the stairs and out of the tower, making for the Headmaster's office.

As the spiralling steps reached the door, she heard voices from within and hesitated, debating whether to knock or wait for a bit. But that decision was quite neatly taken out of her hands a few moments later when the door swung open and Dumbledore called, "Please come in, Hermione."

Entering, she was surprised to see her Watcher seated before him, his head resting on one fist, eyes closed. Exhaustion etched the lines in his face even deeper and his entire posture bespoke of a weariness that made her feel a flash of pity mingled with respect towards him. He opened his eyes at the sound of her footsteps and tilted his head in acknowledgement before closing them again.

Dumbledore gestured at the tray of tea and sandwiches before them. "Help yourself. I have a feeling you'll be missing breakfast."

Feeling her stomach rumble, she blushed and took a cheese sandwich from the pile. "Professor, has something happened?"

The Headmaster glanced briefly at Snape, who gestured vaguely with his free hand without opening his eyes. Nodding to himself, he leant forward. "Voldemort has ordered Professor Snape to take leave of his job here to apply his...unique talents to another mission—"

"There's no need to shield her, Albus," said the younger man irritably. "I'm ordered to spy on a king whom the Dark Lord thinks will make an excellent ally or servant. Either way he doesn't care, as long as I make sure there is no one there to stop his plans of conquest."

She took that in, and then a chuckle escaped her suddenly, drawing questioning looks from the two men. "He wants you to ensure Dumbledore's corrupting influence has not reached the king yet, doesn't he?"

He lifted his head, and she saw a glimmer in his eyes as he, too, realised the irony of the situation. A corner of his mouth twitched. "Indeed."

Nodding, she turned back to Dumbledore. "Something tells me that there's more to it than that, or my presence would not be required here in the first place."

He laughed. "Sharp as ever, Hermione. Very well, I shall be blunt. The Dark Lord has ordered Professor Snape here to persuade you to take your NEWTS early with psychological trauma pertaining to your parents'...untimely demise and tag along to help carry the luggage."

The Potions Master in question raised his eyebrows. "Really, Albus, there is no need to sound so abominably cheerful about it. He hopes that out of the 'corrupting influence' of Hogwarts and its Headmaster, you will be more easily swayed to the Dark Side."

He makes it sound like some Jedi proverb, remarked the part of her that always remained aloof enough to provide the most scathing and more often that not, enlightening of commentaries.Suppressing the urge to laugh, she shrugged. "Then I'll do it. Let him think we are dancing to his tune before we spring the nasty surprise on him."

Snape turned to her, disbelief written all over his usually expressionless face. "Do you even understand the implications of this?" he asked in a near-hiss. "This is not some heroic charge or innocent little jaunt we are planning. There are lives at stake here."

She looked at him impassively. "I know that," she responded mildly. "Do give me some credit, Professor. I am not a child anymore, nor do I have a liking for 'heroic charges', as you so charmingly put it. I want to do my part for the Order, and not just settling for staking the vampires that form part of You-Know-Who's legions." In other circumstances, she would have derived amusement from the look on her Watcher's face, but her mind was too deeply engaged with other occupations to do that. "When do we leave?"

"Three weeks from now." Dumbledore leant forward to peer at her over his half-moon glasses. "Are you certain of this, my dear?"

"Absolutely. Am I allowed to tell the boys?"

Snape answered that query. "If they can be trusted to be discreet." He was somewhat disturbed to see her faraway gaze, at the cold predatory glint that appeared in her brown eyes.

"They can be," came the absent reply. "I'll make sure of that myself. Is there anything else, Professor Snape? Headmaster?"

They spent the next half hour ironing out the kinks in the plans Snape had formulated prior to her arrival. Finally Dumbledore sat back, looking every bit of his hundred-odd years. "I think that's all there is to it. I'll contact you if anything crops up."

With a nod, Watcher and Slayer left the office, leaving the ancient wizard to stare at the door long after it shut on their backs. "Gods protect us all," he murmured softly. "Another innocent sacrificed to the brutality of war."

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The reactions of the boys were just as she expected. Harry protested Dumbledore's decision to allow her to go with only Snape for company—evidently six years of dislike was a little hard to forget—Ron demanded how she was going to take care of herself in a alien place, and Draco simply shrugged.

She had waited till the two spluttered themselves dry, and assured Harry and Ron that Snape would make sure she slept under a roof and ate her greens and the like, and that she had mastered spells to guard against assault, so taking care of herself would be reasonably easy.

Nobody said a word for the next five minutes after her pronouncements, until Ron ran his hand through his hair and grimaced. "It's not fair for you to be allowed to do field work while we are still cocooned within Hogwarts."

"You mean you hate the idea of being left to kick your heels while I get to play hero," came the incisive retort. "You two have to master control and prudence, as well as learn to be a little less rash. Forgive my bluntness, but I believe I possess a little of those three qualities, and Professor Snape will be on hand to ensure I don't lose my head."

Harry chuckled. "Well, there isn't anything we can do to prevent her from leaving with Snape, is there? The grown-ups have already laid the plans and are going to set them in motion beginning tomorrow. Three weeks right? We'll be sure to get all the sweets we can in Honeydukes' during the next Hogsmeade weekend for you to take along. I won't put it past Snape to starve you a little."

She rolled her eyes at the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and said nothing. It didn't escape her that Draco had not uttered a word throughout the entire episode.

She sensed him coming up behind her as she tidied up after their evening study session and braced herself mentally for a tirade.

To her surprise, he cleared his throat pointedly. "I'm not going to lecture you like some ten-year-old. You are old enough to make your own decisions. Just tell me why you are so open to the idea."

She turned to him. "I'm helping our side. That king, whoever he is, needs to be warned of You-Know-Who's intentions. We can't let him gain another foothold."

"Is that all?"

She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"What about revenge?" he asked softly, crossing his arms. "You can't tell me you don't desire to pay him back for what he did to you."

She busied herself with rearranging the cushions on the couch. "Since you already know the answer, why are you asking?"

"I just wanted to be sure."

"Well, then, is there anything more to say?" She tried to duck around him, but he caught her arm.

"You will keep your head, won't you?" he said, searching her eyes. "How certain are you that you won't allow your thirst for vengeance overwhelm you and make you do something that will cost you your life?"

"My Watcher will be on hand to make sure of that. I told the other two just as much earlier. Weren't you listening?"

He scowled. "He can't be always around to keep you in check, Hermione. I'm guessing he will be away a great deal and you will be left to your own devices. What happens if you come against any of the Death Eaters? What will keep you from going berserk and charging in blindly?"

She bit her lip and looked away. His observations had hit far too close to home for comfort. At last, she turned back. "I promise to give your father a fighting chance, if that's what you're worried about."

It was a low blow, and she instantly regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth. But as the elders oft said, what was spoken cannot be undone. His carefully neutral mask cracked. "It's not my father we're talking about here. I'm trying to reason with you here!"

"Save your breath," she snapped, shaking his hand off and striding in the direction of her room. "I'm going, and nothing you say will change my mind."

He started after her. "I know you are used to being the expert on everything, Hermione, but this isn't something you go and look up in a book. Hermione!" The slam of the door greeted his call, and he exhaled, running his fingers through his hair, subconsciously mirroring the Boy-Who-Lived's tendency to do exactly that when he was troubled.

Two heads emerged from the cover of an Invisibility Cloak in the corner. "Well," Ron Weasley said. "That went absolutely swimmingly, didn't it?"

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"Warm clothes?"

"Check."

"Toiletries?"

"Check."

"Nearly three tons of Honeydukes' goodies?"

An affectionate chuckle. "I haven't got round to putting them in yet."

"You'd better start, then." Ginny Weasley's eyes glinted mischievously. "They'd be positively wounded if you didn't put their joint effort to good use."

"Like gumming up the jaws of wizards before they can hex me right?"

"I didn't think of that," admitted the younger girl. "But it's a good idea." She paused in the middle of folding the pile of clothes into the trunk. "They're all worried about you, you know. Even Malfoy. Now that is a miracle."

"He is still human, remember?" She sighed. "I know they are, Ginny, but I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," came the matter-of-fact reply. "But there's still a lot of 'what-ifs' for them to work through."

"Let them do it," she replied uncompromisingly. "It's high time they get used to me not being around to bail them out when they get themselves into hot water." This time her companion looked up from her task to gaze at her until she got discomfited enough to return the stare.

"You've changed a lot, Hermione."

"We all have, Ginny," she reminded gently. "For Harry, me, your brother and you, the past years haven't been exactly quiet or peaceful or normal, and it was bound to have some sort of impact on all of us. We've all grown up, whether we want to or not, and that includes Ron."

Ginny gave a lopsided smile. "I only just realised. My brother may be developmentally challenged, but you balance him quite nicely." That earned her an eye-roll. "No seriously, what he lacks in smarts and maturity, you make up for it."

"Thanks ever so much," Hermione said dryly. "You make me sound so ancient."

She sniggered, then abruptly hugged her. "Don't be off too long. I don't know how we'd manage without you."

She just smiled, unable to speak around the sudden lump that had appeared in her throat.

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The exams were over and done with; the graduation certificate handed to her in a private ceremony with only her teachers and friends in attendance, and she found herself quite free of the obligations of a student all too suddenly. To think she actually had been looking forward to it. When they discussed the plans, she hadn't thought to include the emotional factor.

It seemed she and her friends were now worlds apart by virtue of the disparity in their statuses. Before, she had been one of the three who regularly got into trouble, looked upon as the one to save their collective butts, and on occasion, big-sister figure to Ginny Weasley. There were just some things one could never discuss with brothers, no matter how mature they were.

Now...now, she was the adult, expected to be level-headed and proper and all that sort of tosh. Not that she wasn't all that before, mind, that was different. Those weren't requirements of being a student.

Strange really, how much difference graduation actually made.

The fact that the Head Girl had graduated ahead of all her yearmates was quite well-known throughout the school, courtesy of the intensive broadcasting by means both discreet and public. For the next few days after the official announcement that she had left the school quietly, she had to lay low, living in guest quarters right beside her Watcher's subterranean ones.

On the morning they were slated to leave, Snape entered in his customary way, appearing to be in a foul mood. He ate half the food on his plate and departed robes-a-swishing behind him. All of these weren't much surprising to the other bleary-eyed individuals breaking fast in the Great Hall as well, for that was exactly what he did every single morning like clockwork. Only three pairs of eyes watched him go, and waited for precisely thirty minutes to pass with nerves stretched taut in anticipation before making their own excuses.

Slipping out of the Great Hall, they exchanged a look and split up, each taking a different route to a common destination.

Slayer and Watcher waited in a circular courtyard, bags ready at their feet. Hermione was mildly amused to see that her Watcher had been as surprised as she was when Dumbledore brought them to that discreet spot. "I'm not even certain if that's an actual existent part of the castle or something Albus ordered into being," he had muttered to Hermione when the old wizard had left them to make their way back to the dungeons, humming merrily to himself.

At that very moment, the door that led into the castle opened, and four figures entered. Actually, three all but stampeded in, while the fourth followed at a more sedate pace. Harry, Ron and Ginny made a beeline for her as Snape raised his eyes heavenward in a half-hearted gesture of resignation before turning to Dumbledore. "The portal will be opened in five minutes," he told him. "There'll be someone on the other side waiting to receive you both."

He frowned minutely. "Is there anywhere free from your 'corrupting influence'?"

"Very few," came the smug reply. "And before you ask, my boy, I'm not going to tell you."

"As if I wish to know."

He chuckled genially and clapped him on the back. "Take care of yourself, and I daresay, Miss Granger as well. I know there'll be a few people waiting in line to pummel you if she comes back with so much as a freckle missing."

The younger wizard smirked faintly at that, and he turned to watch the four teens clustered close together. Ruthlessly squashing a surge of envy, he called, "Hurry up and say your goodbyes. The portal will open any minute now."

His charge acknowledged his less-than-gentle reminder, and with a last hug from the two boys, picked up her bag and came to stand beside him. The-Boy-Who-Lived-And-Had-Yet-To-Vanquish looked up at him. "Take care of her, sir."

For the sake of decorum, he bit back the acerbic retort that was on the tip of his tongue and nodded instead. "Rest assured I will bring her back Potter, if only to help you and Mr Weasley get out of another tight spot."

He grinned faintly. "We'll try to be good boys and not cause trouble."

"I doubt that." He turned away; vaguely unsettled at how easily he was speaking with the boy whom he had treated like dirt since he first stepped into Potions. Thankfully, the air a few feet away from them was beginning to shimmer, catching all their attention and saving him from further thought. It grey progressively with each second, and began to twist into a vortex-like phenomenon, making them feel a little dizzy as they watched the manic spiral distortions. Elongating and stretching in a way that reminded Hermione of Silly Putty, it finally settled into an oval hole, hovering inches above the grass.

Albus Dumbledore beckoned the two of them forward before stepping through himself. The farewell committee watched in silence as the black form of their Potion Master slipped through, followed immediately by the smaller figure of their friend. Voices could be heard, and shortly after, Dumbledore popped back into sight. "I did the introductions," he explained. "They'll be reasonably all right with my contact there."

The portal began to shrink in on itself, and the last thing Harry saw before it closed completely was the Slayer waving frantically at all of them.

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A/N: Well, that's done. I know a Portkey could be easily used, but Icouldn't resistthe idea of a portal being opened between one place and another. Bit more dramatic, I suppose. That's one thing I share in common with old Voldy: our flair for drama. That, and a penchant for evil cackling. Lol. I hope this is to your satisfaction. Comments, suggestions, keep 'em coming!