Author's Note: The feedback from this was INCREDIBLE. Thank you! So many subscribed for the next chapter... I hope it's okay. Please, please, please review. I beg of you. It brings me such joy, and I'm so excited for this fic. Thank you to my lovely Shi'ar for being my beta!
There was no sign of the witch. He had nothing to go off of, no clues to research. He was at his wit's end at not being able to find her, but also that he had allowed her to get under his skin in such a way. He had sworn long ago that he would never let another person have so much power over him - not after Lily, not after Dumbledore, not after Voldemort. He was weary of letting others have any kind of control over him. But Merlin's beard, this stranger had bewitched him on a level he couldn't deny, much less escape. The fire in his blood was raging. How long had it been since he had gone after something for himself? It was high time he followed his own wants and desires, and that masked witch was calling to him. He would find her, and he would have her. There was no other option.
Yet, almost a week later and he was still empty-handed, and nearly ready to capitulate, telling himself daily that he was being uncharacteristically foolish. He toyed with the idea of asking Lucius to host yet another ball, which would probably be no problem for one of the richest wizards in Britain, except that since Lucius had learned of where his son's romantic interests lie, he had gone on a rampage. Best to leave that idea behind, Severus admitted.
Then it occurred to him, rather belatedly, that perhaps if he visited the newly-outed couple, and showed them his memories or described his mysterious witch, they might be able to offer assistance. Draco, being a Malfoy, should have been acquainted with every person who had attended; and Harry, as one of the most popular figures of his age, would certainly know many of those who had been there.
And so it was one troubled evening, having owled Draco a few hours previously, that he found himself standing on the cobblestone street in front of the former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. 12 Grimmauld Place hadn't changed much in the past six years, but there was a modicum of relief within him as he approached the building knowing he wouldn't be given another seemingly impossible task in which he would need to risk his life again.
Sternly commanding his heartbeat to slow, he lifted his hand to knock. This was his last-ditch effort to find his mystery woman.
Draco opened the door, a wide smile on his face. "It's good to see you. We're all in the library having tea." He stepped aside to allow Severus entrance, then closed the door and raised his wand to set the protective wards back in place. "We have a friend over, I hope you don't mind."
Severus inclined his head and followed Draco down the narrow hallway to the library. He would have prefered to meet them privately, but perhaps their guest could be of assistance, too.
Harry looked up, as did the woman beside him, whom he recognized as Hermione Granger, given the frizzy mop on her head and the intensity with which she had been scrutinizing the book in her hands. They were standing near the vast wall of books which extended on both sides of the fireplace. Her eyes widened at the sight of Severus but she quickly dropped her gaze back down to her book, and urged Harry to listen to whatever discovery she had just made.
Severus' nose wrinkled in distaste. She had always been a thorn in his side. He found her incredibly irritating; though, to be fair, he hadn't seen much of her in the last few years. After the plethora of Ministry events in honor of the end of the war and its heroes, they hadn't had much reason to be in contact. But just the blasted tone of her voice as she read to her friend made him narrow his eyes. She was still a know-it-all, and probably insufferable, too.
But as his eyes traveled over her, noting the differences the years had brought, there was something familiar about her. Her long legs, mostly covered by a knee length pencil skirt, sparked a memory in him. As his eyes roved over the curve of her shapely arse, his brow furrowed. Surely she was not the witch he had been seeking… No, no, he was just so focused on his mystery woman that he was imagining things.
As Draco bade him to sit on the sofa in front of the fire and called to the others to join them round the coffee table, Severus' gaze remained on the Granger girl. His nose wrinkled again in dislike as he watched her sit down primly in a chair opposite his, straightening her conversative, button-up blouse - which was buttoned all the way to the top - and throwing her frizzy hair over her shoulder. She was not even close to what he had encountered at the masquerade ball. There was no way. Resolved that he had thoroughly eliminated her as a possibility and intending to ignore her for the rest of the time he was there, he turned to Draco and Harry.
"I came for information about the masquerade," Severus told the two young men, without preamble or further explanation.
Hermione, who had just been reaching for a teacup, clattered the item abruptly. They all looked at her in confusion.
"Hermione? Alright?" Harry asked, brow pinched in concern.
A titter of nervous laughter escaped her, and she nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. "Yes, thank you."
Draco and Harry swung their gazes back to Severus, who was growing impatient.
"So? What about the masquerade?" Draco asked, impatient to hear why Severus had come.
Severus frowned, regarding Hermione suspiciously as she inconspicuously clearing her throat. Could they not have told that chit to go home so he could be here in private? He turned to Draco once more, though he remained distracted. "There was a woman."
Draco howled in laughter, and Harry joined in, the two of their bodies shaking with mirth. "There were many women," Draco replied sarcastically. "No doubt women my father thought I'd rather enjoy."
He exchanged a wicked look with Harry, and Severus very nearly made the juvenile motion of rolling his eyes. If they were like this after only a week, he shuddered to think what they might be like after a month together.
He gathered his next thoughts, about what kind of clothes and mask the mysterious witch had worn. From the corner of his eye, Severus saw Hermione gather the long length of her frizzy brown tresses, twisting them up and securing them at the back of her head. She reached forward again for her tea, and sipped it carefully, staring down at the book in her lap as if she weren't keenly aware of their conversation.
Eyes narrowed, Severus took in the sight of her as she sat across from him. His gaze traveled over the graceful, delicate curvature of her neck. Bewildered by his silence, Draco and Harry waited with befuddled looks for him to continue; but he simply sat and observed Hermione, who finally lifted her head to look at him questioningly, her cinnamon eyes connecting with his obsidian ones.
It hit him like a freight train, taking the breath out of his lungs, making him feel as if he had been punched in the gut.
"It's you," Severus snarled.
The widening of her eyes and the sudden drop of her jaw confirmed his words, and he surged up from his chair to stalk toward her menacingly.
Harry was in front of him in an instant, hands up to hold him off. "Wait just one minute," Harry said in a warning tone. "What is going on here?"
Draco stood too, moving next to Harry, the two of them establishing a solid wall in front of Hermione, who had pushed up from her chair as well and hovered behind them appearing like a frightened rabbit.
Severus sneered at them, his eyes not leaving Hermione. "It's her," he grit out through clenched teeth.
The two young men stared at him, utterly flummoxed.
"Um, yes. It's Hermione. Who has been here the whole time…?" Draco's voice was tentative but pointed in his attempt to make Severus realize he was acting barmy.
"She's the one from the ball," Severus bit out.
Draco stepped up to him, speaking to him as if soothing a beast. "You aren't making sense," he told him gently.
"I didn't know my presence would upset your visit," Hermione announced to the three men. "I'll come back later." She inched around Harry and made for the door.
Severus was on her in seconds, caging her against the shelves of books next to the fireplace, his hands on either side of her head. His eyes roamed over her face, taking in her fiery eyes and pursed lips. Her defiance only made him angrier. He had spent a week searching all over for the woman from the ball, only to find out that she was actually one of the most irritating creatures he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. Disappointment was broiling in him, frustration and anger bubbling dangerously together just under his skin.
"I would thank you to move," she said indignantly.
He leaned his head down toward hers, causing her to look away. The smell of her perfume washed over him as his head dipped lower, and a surge of electric fire spiked through him as he remembered the scent. "You were at the ball, were you not?"
Her gaze snapped back to his. "What ball?" she asked innocently, her tone edging on sarcasm.
His nostrils flared. "Do not toy with me, Miss Granger."
"Why are you bullying her?" Harry called from behind them. "She's allowed to attend a ball. I invited her."
"Well, I invited her; you and her, Harry. She made for quite the distraction," Draco corrected, a note of pride in his voice.
Severus closed his eyes, trying to reign in his control. He had completely forgotten that Harry and Draco were still in the room. Images floated through his brain from the night of the masquerade. His witch had attended with a tall, unrecognizable wizard. Hermione bloody Granger, on the other hand, had attended with Harry bloody Potter. Perhaps he was being unreasonable. Many women had brown hair and brown eyes. And surely her perfume was a widely-used one. And no, that hadn't been her graceful, delicate neck he'd been nuzzling that fateful evening.
His arms dropped and he folded them quickly, staring down at her in displeasure. "My apologies," he said uncomfortably. "It seems I've mistaken you for someone else."
Hermione stood to her full height and lifted her chin. "I'd expect better manners from you," she told him prissily. She stepped to the side to address Harry and Draco. "I'll come back when you have less volatile company." Turning on her heel, she left the room, shutting the door behind her louder than necessary.
Draco put a hand on Severus' shoulder. "What in the bloody hell was that all about?" He guided him back to his chair, and poured him a cup of tea.
Utterly chafed now, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "That infernal masquerade, I knew I shouldn't have gone. But for your father's ridiculous pleas, or rather, incessant guilt trip…"
Harry sat down next to Draco, his face still showing his displeasure about how his best friend had been treated. "What has that got to do with Hermione?"
Severus felt like a dog with his hackles raised when her name was spoken. With as much patience as he could muster, he spoke to them clearly and succinctly. "I met a woman at the masquerade. Green velvet dress, bronze mask." He ran a hand distractedly through his hair.
"Oh, well that makes sense. Hermione wore that," Harry nodded, and sipped at his tea.
Head snapping up, Severus glowered at them both. "What did you just say?"
"Do you remember when I picked that dress out for her?" Draco asked Harry absentmindedly, not noticing the way the older man's face was mottling with rage. Draco took on a high-pitched feminine voice, clearly meant to imitate Hermione. "'Slytherin colors? Malfoy Manor and Slytherin colors, how atrocious.'" He and Harry chuckled. "But I have an eye for these things. It fit her perfectly, and she was divine."
Severus sat forward, his body tense. "She accompanied a tall wizard I'd never seen before." His voice was quiet and serious. This was not the same witch. Could not be.
Harry smirked. "She came with me. Draco and I hadn't intended to come out together so soon. I wanted to be there for him but also go unnoticed by everyone else, so I used Polyjuice and took Hermione as my date."
Recalling his memories from that night, Severus remembered wondering why, when Lucius had caught Harry and Draco, Harry's clothes had appeared to be so ill-fitting. Fucking hell. It had all been right in front of him, all along. He had, on some level, recognized her that night, but had quickly tamped the feeling down. He remembered the way she had caressed his face, her dainty hand sliding down the length of his cheekbone with the saddest look in her eyes. Of course she'd known exactly who he was, the little chit. Why had she run?
Because you acted like this when you found out, Severus castigated himself bitterly. Hermione Granger and her friends had been the bane of his existence for seven years of his life, topped only by a dark wizard psychopath and a moonstruck headmaster who believed he could bring about world peace. He had always been dumbfounded that she, indeed the brightest witch of her age, would put herself in such precarious positions. And vastly intelligent as she had always been, the fact that she consistently shoved it onto others at every turn had made her one of the most unbearable people to be around. He didn't know much of her now, except that she had used her talents well and was serving dutifully in the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures… and apparently went weak-kneed at the sound of his voice in her ear.
He rolled his neck to ease his tension. Did it matter that his mystery woman had turned out to be her? Did it really? He didn't want a relationship with her; he merely wanted to quell the ache her body had created in him.
Of course, it didn't matter much now. She had fled from him again, only this time he had welcomed it like an utter pillock.
"Severus, we wanted to speak with you about something, too," Draco suddenly said, wrenching him out of his thoughts.
Nodding and waving a hand for him to continue, Severus willed his mind not to stray to Hermione.
"Harry and I are having a bonding ceremony at the end of the month. We've been in love for years and now that I don't need my father's financial backing to get through university, we want to move ahead and bond with each other before anyone can try to tear us apart." Draco leaned forward. "We want you to attend," he told Severus graciously. A sly expression crept across the young man's face. "And I was hoping you might convince Father to calm himself. I'm prepared to be without his money - doesn't mean I want to be."
Severus raised a brow, considering the request carefully. These two young wizards had caused him a world of grief, responsible for bringing the Granger girl to the masquerade, in resplendent beauty, which he'd been floundering over all week.
Cunningly, he replied, "I will attempt to persuade Lucius for you." There was a pregnant pause, then he added his stipulation. "If you secure a meeting for me with Miss Granger."
The look that crossed both Harry's and Draco's face would have been comical, had he not been gravely serious about his request.
Suddenly Draco smiled impishly, and offered his hand to Severus, who shook it. "Done," he said triumphantly. At the raised brow from Severus, he continued smugly, "She will be at our engagement party next week. You're invited."
Appeased for the time being - though he felt somewhat hoodwinked - Severus stood to leave.
"What is going on with you and Hermione?" It was a question from Harry, who still sounded concerned for his friend.
"I believe that's none of your business, Mr. Potter," Severus replied smoothly, no trace of harshness in his voice. He'd regained some semblance of control over his emotions, thank Merlin. Now he needed to plan how to gain control of her.