There was an unfamiliar sound above, and Sasha, the bird, flittered close to Hermione's head, finally trying to bury itself in her hood.
Hermione looked up and saw a falcon circling the sky. Well, there were supposed to be hunters. Perhaps they were falconers.
She walked on, not afraid to meet them. In the tale they had been protective and no threat. She wondered what would happen if she found them.
The merry band walked on for some time before Hermione heard a voice. She knew there was nothing to fear, but her instinct insisted she be cautious.
There was smoke in the air and the sound of someone setting up camp. Then something bigger; large enough to make noise on its own without the help of the bushes and packed snow.
Hermione peered through a hole in the dense foliage and to her surprise she saw Snape, doing exactly what it had sounded like. Then a giant form loomed above him and she gasped as the wolf, huge and dark, appeared close to Snape.
It was as terrifying as it had been in the tales. Yellow eyes and giant teeth; the air of something feral and dangerous.
Then Snape reached up to scratch it behind the ear and its tongue lolled out happily.
Hermione's hand slipped and she broke a dry branch from the overgrowth she was holding on to.
Snape and the wolf both snapped their attention to her.
She gasped as she sat straight up in her bed. She panted for a moment before she realized she was alone in her room. She almost expected to see Snape waiting for her, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, but there was no one.
She checked the clock on her wall and saw that it was still a few hours until she had to get up and tried to settle back into her covers, but she only slept lightly until she gave in and got up.
She slid carefully from the laundry chute and gently touched a toe to the floor. She was early, perhaps too early, for she didn't hear anything coming from the room he usually used. She tiptoed down the hall and looked in.
She was wrong; he was here, looking over sheets of music that looked ancient. He turned a page and picked up a violin.
It wasn't a familiar tune, but it resonated with Hermione. Some part of her knew it, she was sure. She smelled the ocean and felt the rock of waves beneath her feet. She sighed and he stopped playing and froze, his eyes darting around to catch a glimpse of something, but there was nothing. Just the coldness of the castle and the occasional dripping of water.
She stood transfixed. So this was what musical enchantments could do. The only time she had ever seen an example of it had been when she had watched an enchanted harp lull Hagrid's giant three-headed dog to sleep so many years ago.
She slid away from the doorway and took her place leaning against the wall in the corridor.
To her surprise, this evening there was no recording. He didn't even touch Peter and the Wolf. She didn't recognize anything he chose to play, although all of them sounded as if they could have been used as an example for her Renaissance Music class at university.
They each seemed to evoke a feeling from her, more than mere Muggle music would have been able to. She could smell the streets of Paris, filled with bread and perfume, her slippered feet slide over polished marble floors, the jostling of riding a horse through a field in the spring: the wind in her hair and the sounds of life around her.
She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. In his songs, she was always so happy. Things were uncomplicated and she knew what she was expected to do. Hunt a wolf. Ride a horse. Dance.
When he was through, she slipped away as if in a daze. She was drunk on the music, except this time it really did feel as if she had polished off a bottle of wine by herself.
She made her way back to her room, pausing to do a few dance steps when the door was shut behind her. She wanted to dance again.
The swell of skirts around her legs and a gloved hand gently lit upon the shoulder of a silk jacket. A strong hand around her waist and the warmth of someone so near.
She slipped out of her robes and into her bed, the cool cotton sheets cooling her off. She must be flushed. She certainly felt like it.
She sighed deeply as the memory of the music washed over her, the last of the enchantment riding its course.
In her mind the dancing turned horizontal when she lay down, and now she was sure her cheeks were burning.
Firm kisses and a singular goal: she felt the ghost of strong hands pushing those skirts up and the frenzied kisses on her collarbone.
She dipped a hand below her waist and let it overtake her. Primal and sensuous, fast and reckless.
She cried out as she climaxed and soon drifted off to sleep. She dreamed of dancing.
His music was like a drug. No one had warned her, but then again, she doubted anyone had stalked him like she did.
Tonight he was back to Peter and the Wolf. She found herself slightly disappointed, and then blushed at herself. She came down here to enjoy the music, not get off on enchantments.
Didn't she?
She decided she wasn't interested in pursuing that direction of thought at this time and settled into her usual place.
She almost giggled as he brought out the kettle-drums. She risked poking her head around the corner to see him beating on them with a scowl, his hair flying about and the white arms of his shirt flowing through the air.
She sighed deeply and slipped around the corner again.
Her eyes opened wide.
Did she really just sigh over Snape the same way she had done with Lockhart her second year? iSeriously?!/i
She opened her mouth and pulled a face. She didn't even know what to think.
She shook her head for a moment before she stormed back to the laundry chute. She didn't even care if he heard it. She climbed into the chute and snapped it shut before stomping back to her room to make a cup of tea.
She may have put the kettle down a bit roughly. She shocked herself with the 'BANG' and tried to regain her senses.
She loved music. He was good at making it. That's all that sigh was about.
The image of him in hunters' clothing flashed through her mind, a giant beast by his side. She felt her cheeks flush and it annoyed her even more.
She tried to calm down. This was insane.
There was a quiet knock on her door and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
She went to it and was relieved to see Flitwick.
"What did you do?" He asked curiously.
"What makes you think I did anything?" Hermione asked quickly. Far too quickly.
"Because you look like you've seen a werewolf and Severus is down in the faculty room flapping his arms and making noises about spies and conspiracies." He strode into her rooms and she was glad to close the door behind him.
"Oh, Gods," Hermione groaned.
He shuffled over to her small table and climbed up onto a chair. "What did you do?" he repeated, this time one eyebrow rose as he conjured himself a cup.
"I—I think I'm getting rather too attached to listening to him," Hermione said firmly as the kettle began whistling. "The enchantments are addling my senses. I even came home drunk last night!"
"And, so, of course you went back tonight." Flitwick prompted her, looking altogether too amused.
She huffed in an irritated fashion as she poured the tea. She settled down in the other chair and looked at the little man. "I don't know. Maybe this time I realized what I was doing. I had to leave."
"What is it you're doing?" Flitwick asked as he took a drink.
"I—I think I'm abusing the music," Hermione confessed, her voice a whisper.
Flitwick gave her a pitying look. "You think you're the first person to drown their sorrows in music?"
"This is enchanted music!" Hermione protested, but he just waved her off.
"Relaxation charms." Flitwick snorted. "If it bothers you so much use the Room of Requirement for meditation."
Hermione thought for a moment. "That might work."
"You worry too much," Flitwick said, shaking his head.
Hermione made her way down to the dungeons, trying to let go of the guilty feelings she was harboring.
It was only music. The only release she was afforded these days. She should be enjoying it. Flitwick was right.
She unpacked herself from the laundry chute, strains of music already filling the air. It was something she didn't recognize, again, but it wasn't what he had been practicing last time.
This time it was light and airy, something with piccolos and clarinets. It was a distraction from his usual dramatics and she settled into her place in the hallway comfortably.
It cheered her. Made her think of when she was still young and vibrant, with a new wand and a trunk full of books on magic.
She had been so afraid of being behind, she had drilled herself mercilessly before arriving at Hogwarts. She had been embarrassed when she had found out that none of the first years knew any magic she had tried to cover it up by showing off, which had backfired spectacularly.
She was lucky to have had Harry and Ron. She'd take the pair of them over Lavender and Parvati any day. Gods, she'd have roomed with them if she could have. That would have saved her numerous headaches from both arguing and the over-perfumed cosmetics scattered all over the room.
Well, they had made sure she wasn't a fright at the Yule Ball. That was nice of them.
There was a pause in the music and the sound of him scribbling furiously on parchment.
Her shoulders relaxed and she stretched her back, trying to make it lay flat against the stone wall. It caused her lower back to relax and she quietly sighed.
Suddenly, she burped.
Her mouth made a small 'o' shape as the situation hit her. Footsteps were stomping towards the door and she had to run. She didn't have a true invisibility cloak like Harry, just a standard, modern one. One that made a shadow on the wall like smoke.
iDamn him for making it brighter down here!/i
She scrambled down the hall, nearly swearing as she stepped on the edge of her cloak and tripped herself.
She knew he was in the hallway before she rounded the corner, into the room with the open laundry chute.
He didn't move fast.
iHe must not know about the chutes. He thinks he's cornered me!/i
Hermione dove into the chute and snapped the door shut. She banged on the side of the wall to get it to shoot off, and she squeaked in surprise as her cloak was whipped off her as she was whisked off.
iThe edge! It must have caught in the door!/i
She pressed her lips together. If he looked closely enough, he just might find it. She didn't know how much was hanging out of the chute, but no one ever had a problem finding Harry's cloak when he wasn't wearing it, and hers was the same.
She swore now, and loudly. She arrived at her destination and plodded to her room. She sat down in one of her little chairs with a loud groan. She waved her wand and the kettle, full of water conjured from the kitchens began preparing itself.
She kept expecting Flitwick to show up, but he never did.
She felt stupid. She knew she should have never eaten a second helping of soup for dinner. It had a history of giving her heartburn, and tonight was no exception.
"Proof!"
Severus snarled as he shook Hermione's invisibility cloak in his fist. She sank further into her chair. Flitwick had noticed.
"Proof of what, pray tell?" Sinistra asked, in far too innocent a tone.
"That someone is slipping around the castle, spying on persons unknown. I could just be one target!" He drew himself up to his full height and scowled at those sitting around him.
"I'm not sure finding a cloak in a laundry chute is proof of anything, Severus," McGonagall said slowly. "But I do understand your concern. Was there anything on the cloak? A hair, perhaps?"
"According to the house-elves, the chutes have an enchantment on them that removes bits of debris from the cloth before the items arrive in the laundry room." Snape frowned. "Whoever this was, they planned their escape well."
Hermione disguised a laugh as a cough, which didn't go unnoticed by McGonagall. Flitwick's eyes narrowed further, but Snape was so wound up he just threw her a look before going back to glaring at the other faculty.
"I think we'll all be alert to invisibility cloaks around the castle," McGonagall looked at each of the teachers in turn, her eyes furrowing slightly when they got to Hermione. "It wouldn't do to have chaos in the castle. Again."
"We should start by having those chutes locked up!" Severus growled.
"I'll talk to the house-elves about having them charmed against student abuse." McGonagall said, but Hermione had a feeling that McGonagall already knew they had been.
This seemed to satisfy Snape, who swept from the room dramatically when the meeting was over.
"Professor Weasley, Flitwick, could you please stay a moment. I'd like to talk to you about castle security." McGonagall shuffled some papers about until they were the only three left in the room.
She narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "What have you done to poor Severus?"
"I didn't mean to!" Hermione blurted out, but she suspected she sounded whiny.
"You've gotten rusty with the whole 'sneaking' bit, haven't you?" Flitwick asked, his voice full of amusement.
Hermione threw him a look, but McGonagall interrupted Hermione's protest. "Don't encourage her."
Hermione had scowled as fiercely as Snape had and Flitwick choked back a laugh.
"I appreciate the fact that you enjoy music, Hermione, but must you insist on driving Severus insane while you do it?" McGonagall fixed her gaze on Hermione, who found herself incapable of doing anything besides blushing.
"Perhaps I need to come up with something else," Hermione said lamely.
"I think you ought to before he tears the castle apart." McGonagall looked from Hermione to Flitwick and back again. "I mean it."
"Yes, Headmistress," Hermione said reluctantly.
The Room of Requirement, it was.
Hermione passed the space in the hallway three times and the door finally appeared. She walked into Snape's music room.
She groaned.
At least all the instruments were already set up, suspended in mid-air. She looked around. No one would ever need know about this, what was she so afraid of?
She walked in and lay herself on a long, cushiony couch. The instruments tuned themselves for a moment before starting the opening to Peter and the Wolf.
Hermione vaguely wondered what would happen if she fell asleep in the Room of Requirement, but tried to put it out of her mind.
At first she jumped when Snape's voice started, but she relaxed when she realized the Room was mimicking his narration.
This was far more comfortable than that dirty old dungeon hallway, that was for sure.
She drifted, but she didn't fall asleep. After the piece was done she felt ready for bed. The instruments put themselves away as she rose and stretched.
It would be better this way. No one would ever know and Snape wouldn't be driven insane. She'd have to thank Flitwick later.
"Well, you're looking bright and Severus is brooding into his coffee, as usual." Sinistra plunked herself into the seat near Hermione. "I'm guessing Filius' advice was worth something?"
Hermione nodded. "It was brilliant. I'm just angry I didn't think of it before."
Sinistra shrugged. "He's been around longer. He knows what the Room can do better than anyone." She snickered for a moment. "If those walls could talk…"
"I bet!" Hermione giggled. "Was it an original part of the castle?"
"You know, I'm not really sure." Sinistra shook her head. "I'm sure some note of it might be in the old archives—"
"What old archives?" Hermione interrupted her.
Sinistra waved her hand. "It really isn't that exciting. Just a bunch of old books that age hasn't destroyed yet. I think the last one to look at them was that witch that wrote that book on Hogwarts."
i"Hogwarts: A History?"/i Hermione asked.
Thinking Hermione was poking fun at her, Sinistra made a face. "That's the one. I think she squeezed it for everything she could. You're probably already read the interesting parts."
"Unless the Headmaster at the time asked her to leave certain things out." Hermione said thoughtfully. "I doubt any headmaster would like a book with all of Hogwarts' secrets in it."
"I think you're just looking for an excuse," Sinistra said with an arched eyebrow.
That night, Hermione felt rested enough to stay in her quarters, paging through her picture album with a mug of tea. She stopped at one of the Yule Ball and smiled.
Ron was so jealous. He was scowling outright. If Hermione had really known what was going on she'd have grabbed him and kissed him and it would be done.
But, she rather ihad/i liked Viktor and he was in the picture as well, not facing them, but having a word with his Headmaster.
There was a knock at her door and she waved her wand at her pajamas to change into traditional robes.
Sinistra was at the door, looking at Hermione with a strange smile on her face. "I did you a favor. You should thank me."
Hermione stood to the side as Sinistra walked into her quarters, opening a paper bag and bringing out an ancient-looking book.
"They aren't kept in the library or the Headmistress's office," Sinistra explained. "They're in the shelter under the astronomy tower."
"There's a shelter under the astronomy tower?" Hermione asked blankly.
"After that Muggle bomb went off, the early part of last century, a few Muggle-born teachers thought it might be best to prepare for the worst." Sinistra crinkled her nose. "It has the records for magical building should the castle fall into disrepair… or bombed into oblivion."
"Why couldn't they just use the dungeons?" Hermione asked.
"The charms don't work as well if someone is as high up as an airplane. If they're high enough they're not going to get the feeling they've forgotten something and walk away. They'll look down with their binoculars and see people running around." She shrugged. "We really need to update our charms."
Hermione doubted anyone would be running around if an atomic bomb dropped on Hogwarts, but she reasoned that stranger things had happened. She was just pleased that Sinistra knew that binoculars were, so she just nodded.
"Thanks!" Hermione said as Sinistra conjured herself a mug and reached for the teakettle.
"I brought you one of the first ones from the sixteenth-century," Sinistra said with a smirk she tried to hide. "After the big rebuild."
"What rebuild?" Hermione asked blankly.
"Voldemort wasn't the only wizard to do damage to Hogwarts." Sinistra shrugged. "It's been rebuilt a few times. It wasn't this big, at the start."
"That's fascinating!" Hermione fought back the urge to grab at the book and flip through it.
"I'm not sure you'll find anything on the Room of Requirement, but I do know it's the first mention of that part of the castle." Sinistra sipped at her mug. "The first Hall was blown to bits… except for the Great Hall, of course."
"How is it that the Great Hall always seems to survive?" Hermione mused.
"Oh! That's because it's guarded with some ancient blood magicks." Sinistra nodded. "Way back when it was used as a place for judgment and truce-making. You just can't do anything violent in or to the Hall."
"I've seen my fair share of fights in the Hall!" Hermione protested.
Sinistra waved her hand. "When they pull crossbows on each other they'll be a threat."
"Perkins got stabbed in the leg with a fork." Hermione pointed out.
"His sister wasn't trying to kill him, he just kept pissing her off." Sinistra looked fairly amused. "Never try to get between a fourth year and her crush."
"Even if she's half your size and your mother has told you to keep an eye on them." Hermione giggled.
"Amendment Number One:" Sinistra began, reciting from memory. "'Keeping an eye on them' does not mean flinging said sister over one's shoulder and marching them back to the common room."
"Amendment Number Two: No proclamations of duels without the other prospective dueler present." Hermione had begun laughing.
"Amendment Number Three: If said brother gets caught snogging by said sister, he may not subject his housemates to his whining when she hits him with an entertaining curse of some sort."
They both burst out laughing.
"Poor Sprout." Sinistra wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm surprised there was no damage to the Hufflepuff common room."
"Well there was that isolated Blizzard Charm, but that dried out quick enough." Hermione snickered.
"Would have been worse if Romeo was a Hufflepuff," Sinistra pointed out. "The Ravenclaws were pretty good at intervening at his behalf."
"Is that list still hanging in their common room?" Hermione asked.
"Permanent sticking spell after he ripped down the first three." Sinistra laughed.
"Good grief." Hermione shook her head. "They're all a bit mad, aren't they?"
"You love it," Sinistra said with a smirk. "I've seen that look on your face when one of them pulls off something spectacular."
"I realize Filius wanted to keep that bit of swamp—" Hermione began, but Sinistra interrupted with a high-pitched giggle. Hermione continued, "but secretly raising an alligator in it was completely unacceptable."
"Oh, but it was just a baby," Sinistra cooed.
"I'm sure it started that way," Hermione said grumpily. "Hagrid will never convince me that he had nothing to do with it."
"We definitely had a drop-off in the number of wildlife attacks after he retired." Sinistra sighed.
Hermione shook her head as she took a drink from her cup.
"I'm afraid I was just stopping by," Sinistra said guiltily. "I have to start my rounds."
Hermione thanked her again for the book as they finished their tea. She waved Sinistra off as the other woman started down the hall, and she let out a sigh as the tapestry rolled down and she latched her door.
She bustled over to the old book and tested the preservation charms on it. They were still strong, so she didn't have to worry about damaging it from handling.
She tidied up her room and settled into her bed before she began reading.
She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was walking through the forest, her toy gun gripped tightly in her hands. A cat was perched on her shoulder; a duck and a small bird circling overhead.
She was tracking, better than she ever had while awake. The signs seemed so obvious to her now. A dip in the snow here. A leaf on the ground there. A snapped twig still hanging from a branch.
She could feel it. Smell it. The wolf was near.
She climbed a tree. It seemed the smart thing to do. She only had a toy gun and she never dreamed about her wand. Her hand went to her jacket just to make sure, but it was gone.
She heard something monstrous moving through the forest. Something that snapped branches and went through the brush with crunching footsteps and a slithering sound.
It was coming nearer and she fought the urge to climb higher. She was already far from the ground, further than she remembered, and the overhead branches were smaller.
There was a loud crunching sound and the wolf broke into the clearing.
It was huge, bigger than last time, and atop his back was Severus Snape. He was sitting tall in a grey saddle, surveying the area around them, the wolf's head mimicking the motions of his head, as if they were one.
Hermione looked down to her footsteps, but they were gone. Such is the nature of dreams, she supposed.
She decided not to do anything. Her friends were in the tree with her, safe from harm. She was sure the wolf wouldn't eat her, and even if he did, so what?
She was sure the lecture from Snape about skulking around the forest wouldn't be half as amusing as she had just imagined.
And… what if it truly was him? What if he was in her dream?
She shook that from her head. That just didn't happen, not even to witches and wizards.
At her request, and a weekend of Weasley merry-making and building, the small cottage was built near the castle, full of Muggle items and things of interest. She thought it would help keep them excited about their project but that had backfired spectacularly when one of her small nieces, to small even for Hogwarts, had pronounced the house 'dead.'
"What do you mean?" Hermione had asked with an astonished look on her face.
"It's not alive yet," the tiny girl had said. "Make it go."
There had been some snorts and giggles at that, but it had make Hermione think.
Then she had the cottage moved far enough away from the castle that electronics could be used. The students reacted far better to Downton Abbey than they had to Arthur's egg beater demonstration, a subject that still rallied amusement from those who were sitting in the back.
But there were still some days…
"Professor Snape says Muggle Studies is a waste of time," the boy told her flatly.
"Then why are you here?" Hermione smiled at him.
"Because it's required for an internship at the Ministry and it's not eating up class time," he told her.
"True. You're here of your own free will. The Ministry wants you to learn something you'll use in your later profession. Doesn't seem like a waste of time to me." She smiled wider.
The boy huffed and said something like 'well, you wouldn't, would you?'
Hermione felt the edges of her mouth turn into a smirk. "I can see Professor Snape saying it's a waste of time. I'll make a deal with you. If you can make it to tomorrow afternoon without the use of Muggle inventions I'll pass you. No more classes."
The boy perked up instantly. "Really?"
"Really," she said. "Just remember, the Muggles invented wicks, weaving, milling, sugar processing, papermaking, the Post, building construction, tools, the use of fire for cooking, and wand-making. To begin with."
His face fell and several other students looked amused.
"Have fun with scavenging for dinner. We'll be waiting for you to appear naked in the gardens so you can demonstrate how to make yourself a nice mat of grass to sleep on." She looked at him pointedly as the small bell ending class rang. "Extra credit to whoever joins him!" She added as the students gathered their things and laughed.
"If I sleep outside can I get extra credit, too?" Hermione's head whipped up from the papers she had been glancing at. Flitwick was walking into the room and looking heartily amused, his hand waving in the air.
Her shoulders sagged. "I feel like a big bully."
"Oh, he deserved it, and he knew it." Flitwick waved her off. "But, you did sound a little like—"
"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me." He grinned at her widely. "Why are you out here, anyway?"
"To sign up for the Hufflepuff slumber party."
"Very funny."
"I was teaching growing charms on the pumpkin patch and thought I'd pop in." He shrugged.
"You were checking up on me." She snorted as she lifted a large book to put it on a shelf. "It's only two evening classes a week."
"Just making sure you don't overdo it." He held his hands up.
"Thank you, but it's totally unnecessary."
"Trying to keep yourself busy?" he asked.
"I've been sleeping much better, thank you," she assured him. "The room of Requirement is very helpful."
"Good to hear it," he said with a grin.
Hermione quietly padded to the Room of Requirement. It wasn't as if she were doing anything wrong, but she didn't want to be caught skulking around the castle in her pajamas.
It wasn't far from the laundry chute, but she was cautious, just the same.
She walked into the familiar room and settled onto the couch. The instruments tuned themselves as she closed her eyes.
There was an unfamiliar shuffling noise and she opened her eyes, and then started. She closed her eyes for a moment. Just because the room had never produced copies of people there was no reason why it couldn't. Just poppets of people, she was sure.
At least, that's how she rationalized the appearance of Severus Snape.
When she had reacted to him, he had looked at her for a moment as if he didn't know she was there. He stared at her for a moment before going back to what he was doing.
Hermione swallowed. Surely he would have said something if he had been real. Shouted at her, swore at her, anything but this stony silence.
The Room for some reason thought she needed him, so he had appeared. It had recreated his voice so well; there was no reason why it wouldn't be able to recreate Snape. Perhaps it was a mouse, transfigured and enchanted.
Her mind flitted to Aberforth Dumbledore for a moment, but she pushed it from her mind.
She lay back down and closed her eyes. After a short while the music started up.
He played through the entire piece once. It was something Hermione did not know, but it was full of deep tones and haunting notes. When she opened her eyes he was in shirtsleeves and a bassoon was on his hands.
Her eyes met his for a moment and they glittered at her.
Why had the room created him? The music would have been enough for her. There must be something, some reason why the Room thought he needed to be here.
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes tight. He may be here, but she didn't have to look at him.
The longer he played, the more relaxed she became and after several lines, she began dozing off.
She awoke to a room of instruments, but no sign of Snape. She let out a sigh of relief and sat up. She stretched and her back popped several times. She wondered what time it was, but had a feeling morning was still a long way off.
She slipped from the Room and sneaked to the laundry chute that dropped her off near her quarters.
"Read anything interesting lately?" Sinistra grinned at Hermione, a twinkle in her eyes.
"Not as much as I'd like, I'm afraid," Hermione admitted as she took her place at the faculty table. "The extra evening class has been eating up my time."
"Are you sure you're not overdoing it?" Sinistra asked, her lips pursed suspiciously.
"I swear, I'm not. Muggle Studies is a piece of cake," Hermione assured her. She reached for a dinner roll. "Besides, Filius is already checking up on me."
Sinistra rolled her eyes. "Of course he is."
"You know him." Hermione shrugged. "He's like a mother hen."
"I heard that." Flitwick climbed into the chair near Sinistra and gave them a faux scowl.
Hermione snorted. "You'd trumpet it from the rafters if we let you."
He harrumphed at her, but looked cheerful after he had made the token noise. "Been sleeping well?"
"I've been sleeping great!" Hermione confirmed. "And I haven't even been going to the Room often."
"It gets easier," Sinistra said sympathetically.
"And Severus hasn't had a fit in nearly a week," Flitwick chimed in. Sinistra nodded in agreement. "It's nearly been peaceful!"
"Except for that exploding toilet incident." Sinistra corrected him.
Flitwick winced. "I'd forgotten about that."
"Well, at least I haven't caused mayhem," Hermione said helpfully.
"Cheers!" Flitwick said and the other two raised their glasses before drinking.
"What are you three celebrating?" McGonagall leaned over as she passed them on the way to her seat.
"Not causing mayhem," Hermione said, promptly realizing how thin that excuse sounded.
McGonagall snorted. "Indeed."
The Headmistress continued on to her own seat as Flitwick and Sinistra dissolved into giggles.
Hermione was curled up on the couch in the Room of Requirement when the music stopped. She looked up and Snape was there. She had no idea when he appeared, or how he did, but sometimes he showed up and sometimes he didn't.
Tonight it was Peter and the Wolf again, but the music kept stopping so he could make adjustments. Hermione decided it was to make the experience more authentic.
He finally stopped and went to another tune. Soft and silky, winding its way around her senses. She sighed and relaxed. This was something different. Something that slid her into a stack of memories, flipping by each of them in turn.
The kiss from Viktor. From Ron. From several boys she had met at uni. Meeting Ron again, all grown up and less foolish than she had remembered him. Ten years can do that to a person. The kiss that brought them back together.
Stars exploded behind her eyes, just as they had done in the past. His hands on her back, sliding down to her waist. She sighed as her body responded.
They had gone back to her first flat and had kissed for hours on her tiny single bed. Clothing had come off and soft strokes slid over bare skin, but he hadn't been the way he had been as a teenager. Thoughtful. Unflustered. Unhurried.
They had lain next to each other and had slept without making love. Honestly, she would have been more than happy, but Ron had muttered something about doing it right this time and they had slept spooning each other, and not just because Hermione had a single bed.
Instead of making her sad, she felt content. She felt herself lightly touching herself. Snape was just a construct; she could ignore him as easily. Her fingers traced over her face and shoulders, she shied away as if they were a lovers. Between her breasts and down to her hips, opening her legs and stroking her thighs.
Her voice hitched and she jerked as she found the right spot. She giggled. The whole thing just felt so naughty.
She finished fairly quickly, but she had gone higher, flew longer than she had thought she would. She stretched and her back popped. The music was still going, but she just couldn't look over to Snape. She turned over to face the back of the couch, settled herself in and slept.
"You look almost human again." Sinistra joked as Hermione sat down at the Head Table for lunch.
"I feel wonderful," Hermione said. "I've been getting real sleep and classes are going smoothly."
"I hear there might be an extension of Muggle Studies." Flitwick plopped himself beside Hermione. "What's all this?"
"They need to learn how to use Muggle money." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not overdoing it!"
"What's this plan?" Sinistra asked.
"On the weekends, for extra credit, Muggle Studies is going to run a small stall in the courtyard." Hermione explained. "Selling candies and things. The hardest part is convincing Gringotts to set up a small stand to convert money."
Sinistra made a face. "I've forgotten about that."
"I think I may be able to help," Flitwick said thoughtfully. "One of the managing goblins owes me a favor. Problem with a broken lock."
"If you could help, it would be wonderful," Hermione hinted.
"I'll see what I can do." He smiled at her.
"Have you even gotten a chance to look over the archives?" Sinistra teased.
"I have." Hermione confirmed. "I'm working backwards. Apparently during an unusually cold winter it was used as a warming room."
Flitwick nodded sagely. "The castle was supposed to be quite uncomfortable at one time."
"That's when they changed the student housing around," Hermione said excitedly. "Separated everyone out by year so the rooms would be smaller. Easier to heat."
Flitwick chuckled. "Well, i'Hogwarts: A History'/i could only be so long. I'm sure there were many things that were left out."
"At the rate I'm going I'll never get through." Hermione admitted.
"When do you find the time?" Flitwick asked.
"You don't find time." Hermione said with a grin. "You make it."