Under the surface

He always said she was as good as gold
And he can see no reason 'cause there are no reasons
What reason do you need to be shown?

(Boomtown Rats – I Don't Like Mondays)

I Don't Like Mondays

Monday 5th of September 1994 was a date now marked in Hogwarts history. The corridors murmured with the shocking news that Hermione Granger, resident Swot, had failed an entire class. Not only did she never raise her hand which harnessed speculation. Her red rimmed eyes and sallow complexion almost caused titters in their own right. That was not what had caused the loud whispers to become a crescendo of gossip amongst the halls. For the insufferable know-it-all, bookworm, eager beaver student – had botched a spell!

Spectacularly! So badly that even Neville had to come to her aid. Everywhere she walked she heard the dark murmurs of suspicion that maybe Little Miss Perfect had other distractions – said in tones that implied heavily what nature those distractions took. The ones that Ron and Harry could hear were met with vicious, protective scowls on their faces. Once Harry's startling green eyes glittered threateningly at fellow students. Scar prominent on his forehead. The gossip in that quarter stopped and the students scurried off in their own alcove.

Normally, Professor Flitwick who was quite unflappable, showed something of concern towards Hermione. Many a staffroom conversation were Flitwick imparting his jealousy of Minerva to have Miss Granger under the Gryffindor banner rather than the one he felt she truly belonged. Ravenclaw was more her speed he secretly felt. During these discussions Sprout chided and goaded Flitwick that, actually, her loyalty and compassion were more Hufflepuffian attributes and her house would have nurtured those lovable traits. Severus kept his own council, due to her blood status, it would be pointless to join in – though he loathed to admit it, she did also show the cunning and logic of a Slytherin. Minerva was obnoxiously proud of her cub and let the debates wash over her.

Of course, it was very well walking through corridors to the Great Hall for lunch but once in it was as if her entire year had decided to stop talking and look at her with mirrored expressions of undisguised shock and curiosity on their faces. The Slytherins leered nastily in her direction – it was clear it was they who set the implications in stone.

Grumbling Hermione turned to Harry: "I am not hungry."

"You have to eat something," Harry said concerned. He hated seeing Hermione like this. The cowering nature was something she rarely showed. Waspish he could take. Sarcasm was second nature to Hermione, and she had a plethora of Muggle and Wizard innuendo at her fingertips to draw inspiration from. Scary, definitely. So to see her walk away with embarrassment thrown Harry for a loop: "Come on, it is probably why..."

"Why what?" her voice rose.

"Why you..."

Narrowing her eyes Hermione stepped close to her friend wand pointing at his throat: "I dare you to finish that sentence, Potter," she hissed darkly pressing the point in his jugular. "Try."

Now the whole school was watching. Even Draco had to recover quickly. Did he hear and see right? That was not Granger's normal behaviour with scarhead.

"Hermione," Ron began.

Slowly, Hermione turned her head and glared at her other friend: "I would love to hear your views, Weasley but you think food is the be all and end all."

"That's not true!" Ron blushed also raising his voice an octave. "I was about to say that you look like you could do with some sleep rather than some food and was prepared to walk you back to the tower and make sure you could nap before lessons."

Grinding her teeth together Hermione knew she should apologise. None of this was their fault. Neither was it fair on them that she could not confide in them. Shaking her head Hermione sighed and slumped: "I'm sorry, Ron," she said. "I need to see someone."

"Can we..."

"No!" she snapped. Then counting to twenty in German to soothe her nerves she opened her eyes and gazed at her two concerned friends and wrapped an arm around each of them: "no," she whispered. "This is something I am going to have to talk to someone knowledgable about to help me sort things out in my mind," with that she pecked each of them on the cheek and dashed out of the hall.

"Well, that was entertaining," Draco leered at her retreating back. "I would have preferred it if Potter got a bloody nose like I did!"

"I'll give you a bloody nose, prat!" Ron yelled as he was about to leap on the tables destroying several bowls of fruit.

It was up to Harry to keep Ron back by his robes and yank him on the bench: "I could have had him you know, Harry!"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "As well as 100 points off Gryffindor."

With that the two boys, still wondering what Hermione's problem was about, tucked into their garden salads. Quiches. Thick egg and cress sandwiches with freshly made bread. Piles of fruit and ice cream. Hand churned. "Shame Hermione is missing out on this," Ron muttered. "The ice cream's her favourite flavour."

Trying not to run down the twisted corridors to where she knew Professor Snape's office was. The only sound was the beat of Hermione's heart thudding through her body. Did she really have the right to inflict her problems on him? Especially after they had thwarted him, yet again, just mere months before. Gryffindor Courage, she sighed. Do not fail me now.

Standing outside his stark forbidding doors she closed her eyes, clutching hold of her wand as if it offered her comfort. Hugging some slim volumes she had taken from the library Hermione had to count to more than just twenty in the few languages she knew how before releasing a sigh. Tentatively, she tapped her knuckles against the door and gulped. No harder. Professor Snape had extremely good hearing, she did not need to ram down his door. After what seemed like an age Hermione heard feet moving about the other side of the door. With a last minute check over her shoulder to make certain that no one had followed her she rolled her shoulders around to ease her muscles. Slowly, she turned around to a sea of black velvet. Perfectly aligned buttons. Stern rough looking hands the only flesh visible through the sleeves where a peek of white shirt cuff caused Hermione to lose focus. As her eyes rested on those long, elegant fingers, Hermione wondered how they would feel like separating her folds as they caressed... Damn it, Malfoy, you've ruined me.

"May I help you, Miss Granger?" the sneer was not needed to be seen to be felt.

"Yes, Sir," she said squaring her shoulders and tilted her chin defiantly. "I need... advice."

Arching an eyebrow, Professor Snape stood aside and gestured for her to enter. The office was stark, cold. Spartan. Forbidding. Much like the man himself. Various pickled and preserved ingredients stood on shelves stewing in juices. An eye turned and looked at her. Mischievously winking at her. It served to place a smile on her lips.

"I assume this is something you do not wish Mr Potter or Mr Weasley to know?"

"Especially so," Hermione sighed, daring not to sit unless asked. "It is rather delicate."

How was she so calm? She had tossed and turned. Lost sleep. Could not eat for a fortnight. Burst into tears over the thought of this encounter.

"Then I suggest you sit down," Professor Snape said motioning towards a chair. Unsteadily, Hermione picked her feet up and made it to the chair without him snapping at her so she sat down. Keeping her back straight darting her eyes around the room. Professor Snape flicked aside his robe as he sank down on the chair opposite her. "If you need sleeping draughts and remedies to other aches Madame Pomfrey is the best person to see in this establishment."

"No, it is nothing like that," Hermione blushed. "I had...," stop there Hermione. This is going to be embarrassing enough as it is. "That is to say...," did all Slytherins have private lessons in eyebrow arching, Hermione seethed. Scrunching her robes in her hands Hermione decided to be as vague as she could: "Have you heard of the Marriage of Figaro?"

"A rather nonsensical opera about a man trying to stop his Lord seducing his wife-to-be the night before their wedding even though he was, himself, married?"

"Exercising his Droit de Seigneur, I understand it is called, or Rights of the Master?" Professor Snape now leaned back and looked at her as if he had only just registered her existence. Which he probably did. Imperceptibly, Professor Snape nodded his head. "Is there a similar arcane law that rich Pureblood families think they have a right to, you know, any young Witch or Wizard they desire no matter of what birth?"

"I believe some Purebloods have the sense of certain entitlements," Severus tilted his head as he began to realise that Miss Granger was trying to say something – confide in him – even though she despised him and was a Gryffindor? Why would she ask him these questions if she had no underlying purpose behind it? When she was away from the other two brats she was vaguely tolerable. "But it is not an actively pursued law," tilting his head with his private musings. Keeping his dark, raven eyes on her own tawny orbs. "Mostly the Ministry refuse to believe there ever was such a right, so it has never been contested or officially repealed."

Great, the bastard had not lied to her then on that score! "Um," she bit her lower lip and lowering her eyes, this next bit was going to be awkward as it was the instrument to his being thwarted just months previously: "You know, I was given the permission to use a certain artefact that allowed me to attain all the classes I wished to last year?"

"I was aware of you being given an instrument of significant power," Professor Snape sighed. Finally, I will get a decent answer rather than Dumbledore's twinkle and a shrug of his shoulders: "What was it, may I know?"

Well, she may as well be honest: "It was a Time-Turner."

"I see," and the old goat does it again. Manipulates those he purports to care about. Then another cold thought had crossed his mind. She would not have had access to such an instrument if it was not cleared through several channels. Ending at the Minister himself. Lucius Malfoy would have been pivotal for it to have landed on the Minister's desk. For all School Governors would have debated and signed, he was head of the table his decision went, and his opulent Ministry position would also have increased her chances tenfold. A man who had met her a year prior to the original application. This was not sitting well with Professor Snape and, for the first time in his life, he wanted to speak to Lupin. "A rather complicated piece of powerful magic entrusted to a 13 year old," he muttered, "can that fool become more irresponsible."

That was not meant to be said aloud, Hermione sighed, but she decided not to take offence. For once, Professor Snape had a valid point. Though she was not sure who the fool he alluded to was. "I was told, on receiving said item, that there were complications," gulping down her insecurity. Hermione tried not to let herself break down in front of this imposing man. Although she was certain he must have had crying girls in his office before. Even if he was the one that had made them do it. "That certain..." she sighed trying to think of the right word. "Avenues would be speeded up."

Unable to withstand his penetrating glare, she now buried her gaze so deeply into her lap that she felt as if he had called her here for detention instead of her coming of her own accord. "I suppose your nature was the reason why you needed said Time Turner?"

"I could not decide which classes I wanted to take so I ticked the lot," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I probably took triple the classes last year so I had to constantly go forwards and backwards in time." No interruption? No exasperated sigh? Where was the sarcastic eye rolling and 'Serves you right for being such an Insufferable Know-It-All?' "Does this lend, or take away, age?"

"I suppose there is a point to all these questions?" Of course there was, Snape, he sighed. You knew that the moment she came into your office. He had been trying to get the information the easy way but she was surprisingly good at keeping him out of her mind. Part of that was the reason why she frustrated him so much. How could a Mug... No, he sighed, thinking like that is what got you in the situation you are now. Just accept that this girl has the chance to be your intellectual equal and the only reason why you treat her the way you do is that she was not around in your year as a Ravenclaw. "I ask because you must not miss your next lesson."

"It's History of Magic," Hermione sighed. "About as interesting and beguiling as watching a Muggle Soap Opera." The smirk that graced his lips lifted her heart. That she was able to at least make fun of at least one subject was refreshing. Gods did he know how banal they were. Her mother, for her sins, liked Coronation Street. "So, I am sure the Goblin Rebellions can await if need be."

"I am sure they could," he said. No purred. The way her eyes darkened at the sound of his voice worried him greatly. "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Still, my next lesson is not open to such flexibility."

"Of course not," she flushed.

"So, are we nearing your winded explanation?"

The hurt in her eyes gutted him more than he cared to admit. "Yes, I just wish to know some answers before I came here to tell you what I really have to tell you." Oh, did this man know how impossible he was? Why did he not want companionship? Am I so bad that he would rather I just come right out with it without any background? I thought Slytherins appreciated tact. "I was told to confide in no one but I have to..." there were tears in her eyes and shame evident in her posture.

This set his heart on ice: Told by... who? What could she not want... in his experience that was said by victims. Victims of abuse. Of physical or... the blood froze in his veins as he thought of Miss Granger – insufferable she may be – innocent though, and one in his care. A muggleborn Gryffindor. Top scoring Witch. How he hated someone's innocence being stripped of them. What could... who... Her manner. Droit de Seigneur? Time Turner having to be signed twice by... NO! Shaking his head out of his reverie he realised Miss Granger was still talking.

"... I have already snapped at Harry and Ron when Harry suggested I eat something," she sighed again. How often in a conversation can a person sigh. "Then Ron was being so kind and offered to walk me back to the Tower to allow me have a nap instead, an amazing empathetic act from him," she smiled. "I snapped. Blaming them for this secret problem that has been churning around," lifting her gaze she realised that Professor Snape was seriously listening to her. "I failed at a charm so badly this morning due to this situation that Neville had to show me what to do." The last thing she expected to hear was Professor Snape to laugh. Actually, properly laugh. His dark bird like eyes twinkled with mirth as he did so. Suddenly Hermione felt her heart quicken within her soul. Wow, he should laugh more often he looks so much better. Deep throated from the depths of his being. Then it brought to mind how Lucius Malfoy's chuckle felt as it vibrated through her core. How he had finally seduced her. Sexy though the image was, Hermione realised she ought to be offended and proceeded in that direction. "I am glad someone finds it funny," she mumbled blushing deeply.

"Continue, Miss Granger," Snape said calming down. "I am... sorry... you clearly have a serious personal issue and I am... humbled that you feel you can come to me."

What? No taunts? Jibes? Sarcasm? No name calling ? Sneers? Jeers or Jabs? Snape apologised! All he needed to do now was have a cute fluffy kitten in his arms and that would be it – her hormones would skyrocket into the Milky Way.

"Was my source right?" she had been talking again and he had once again drifted from what she was saying.

"Right about what, Miss Granger?"

"I was unreliably informed that Time Turners can either increase or decrease your age depending on how often you use them to travel backwards or forwards in time?"

"There are always consequences to our craft, Miss Granger," Professor Snape's eyes glittered at her as his pale skeletal calloused fingers clasped together on the desk. Sinuously elegant – Hermione was starting to wonder if she loved hands now more than eyes: "You essentially tried to do in one year what many students need a life time to accomplish – as it is you attempted two years worth of study in one – taking into account how hard you work I would hazard two years yes."

"So, does that mean instead of nearly 15..." Hermione hesitated. "I am, more likely, nearly 17?"

Tilting his head to his side Professor Snape observed the young girl before him. Had no one really told her of the consequences before giving her the infernal contraption? Suspicions were mounting in his mind over what this was all leading too. "I am rather afraid that is a point up for debate," he said. Calm measured tone kept her on Planet Earth. Not sounding the least annoyed by her now. Hermione wondered if she should try and pick his brain more often in lunch hours. Show him that she did not, despite popular opinion, know everything. That would be impossible. "But I hold to the school of thought that there are certain things that Magic should never have ventured into and Time Travel is one of them," here he leaned back, the chair creaked with his action, stretching out those arms she felt around her and oh how delicious they felt as they protected her. Concentrate you slut, she sighed. "I would say that many scholars and philosophers hold to their supposition that travelling forwards in time does exhilarate the age process. Not enough studies have been conducted to support the theories but I feel that the consequences add up to their ideas." He was surprisingly almost amiable. Still not chummy. Professor Snape was not the type to slap on the back and call Sev. Hermione was about to say something but jumped as another set of knuckles rapped on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Sir!" It was Draco.

Immediately, Professor Snape witnessed the change in the girl. Guarded. Almost terrified. This cannot be the same girl who had slugged the entitled prat? She looked startled. Sizing up an escape opportunity. Finally settling her doe eyes on the wall where the door would open. Quietly she rose off the chair and looked as if she had the Bloody Baron walk right through her. Snow white complexion made her look consumptive. In her haste she dropped her books. Chivalrously, Professor Snape picked them up and gave them to her. So that when the Professor opened the door Draco would not know she was here, even had the presence of mind to take her bag with her. Odd! Sensible, he mused. Fairly Slytherin of her to find somewhere to hide and remain quiet.

"Come in," Professor Snape urged coldly, "but I have little time to spare as do you."

"It is about Granger," Draco sighed sitting down on the chair she had recently vacated. Professor Snape kept the door open but stood in front of Hermione. Voluminous robes and a rather impressive frame had further protected her from Draco's view. "I know something's up."

"Why would you care?"

"I care when I have a suspicion as to why something is up with the... her."

Furrowing her brow Hermione wondered why, when he was with Professor Snape privately, he had not resorted to that term that he so freely used since their second year, in public. "What is your unfounded reasoning behind Miss Granger's odd behaviour?"

"Well," Draco ran a hand through his hair and groaned in exasperation. "I heard Potter and Weasley talk," here Professor Snape pursed his lips. "Apparently she has not been the same since the World Cup Match."

"Why should I care over what some insufferable know-it-all behaves at some silly event?"

"The behaviour was before the Match started."

"Do you have a point to get to, Mr Malfoy, I do not have time to be cryptic. Sometimes the Lion's bluntness is a trait to be copied."

"All right, well she was on her own by the lake – the day was warm and I could not blame her for wanting to be away from the Weasley tent to get some space," Hermione could not believe it! Draco, unwittingly, was telling her story for her. Or the part he knew. "She was not that annoying then actually. In fact she looked rather..." here he quailed under Professor Snape's arched eyebrow and folded arms. "Well, she looked rather nice," he sighed, "and then my father shows up," she shrunk further into the shadows. "Tactfully she offers to move if we wanted to spend time there. Father suggested she stay – after flirting with her."

Did Hermione see a finger twitch on Professor Snape's hand? His wand hand at that. Who was he wishing to hex? "So? Your father flirts with any..." he could not say attractive. Snape suddenly realised he had seen a glimpse of the woman she was going to become and he was more jealous over the Potter and Weasley brats than he had a right to be. Remember, she is a Student. "Approachable Witch he can find."

"Yes, but you didn't see what she was wearing," Draco's smirk was so self-assured Hermione's fingers found themselves grabbing onto the back of Professor Snape's cloak. "The green and silver skirt. Tight white blouse..." again she saw the blond skitter backwards slightly as another of Professor Snape's withering glares hit him squarely in the eyes. "Anyway, my father left for me to go to the Marquee alone. I was going to invite Granger to actually," now Hermione wished the Whomping Willow had killed her. Or that the Professor had allowed Lupin to bite her. "He joined about half an hour to an hour later with wet hair and when Cornelius Fudge mentioned that he looked happy my father's response was... well," here Draco blushed. Crap, Hermione thought, if Draco blushed at certain words how would she have faired? "Father said his mood was rather orgasmic and that his morale had been sufficiently boosted."

"Is that all, Mr Malfoy?" Professor Snape sounded bored.

"Not entirely," he sighed, "about two weeks later he returned home with another smirk on his face and when I moaned about how stupid Muggles where and how useless Mud... Muggleborns were," Hermione chewed her cheek and gripped hard onto Professor Snape's robes. Something she would apologise for when Draco left. "He said that they had their uses and that some of them were actually more vicious in tricking Muggles than we are and we could learn from their creativity."

"Did your father seem extremely happy, Mr Malfoy?"

"Could not stop smirking."

"Is that all, Mr Malfoy?"

"Well," Draco sighed, "the strangest thing was, that the ragtag red heads and Potter circled around the lake at the World Cup match looking for her and I went around in search of my father. It was like the lake dropped off into some abyss. I could not see them. Let alone hear anything."

"What would you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't know," Draco huffed. "I told Potter that I wanted to have a word with her as soon as possible but he clearly did not pass the message on as I saw her alone several points of the journey on the train and I know she saw me alone too but she did not approach me."

"Did you think to approach her?"

"Every time I did Weasley showed up taking hold of her hand."

"I see," Professor Snape sighed. "Now, I really have other things to be getting on with, is that all?"

"Yes, Sir," Draco said. "I swore I thought she was in here."

"Why would Miss Granger come to see me, Mr Malfoy? She reads the vast tomes our Library holds so I doubt I could enlighten her on any problem."

"Suppose you heard about her miserably failing a charm?"

"There were rumours, most uncharacteristic," Professor Snape conceded. "Why does this bother you, Draco?"

Shrugging his shoulders Draco glowered at his Professor: "When I hear Longbottom had to rescue her," he smirked, "it just does."

"I sympathise with that reasoning. Heaven forbid we have to rely on Longbottom to help us in any grave danger!"

Snape could feel his robes being tugged on by a rather irate Miss Granger behind him. This just aided the smirk on his features. The girl was rather protective over that boy.

"I suppose you wish me to talk to your father."

"No, to Granger," Draco said. "She won't talk to me. She may open up to you."

"If she did take me into her confidence I trust you would not expect me to break it, Mr Malfoy?"

"No, just tell me if she does, if it is what I suspect it is I do not wish to know the sordid details."

"Understandable," tilting his head Professor Snape coughed: "The door, Mr Malfoy, is over there."

With a nod of the head Draco walked out of the door. To make absolutely certain Professor Snape then placed silencing charms so no one could hear what was about to happen. Also, he closed his Floo network so no one could interrupt that way and as Apparition was impossible in Hogwarts grounds accept to the Headmaster, Snape was satisfied he had covered all bases. Turning around he saw a visibly pale and shaking Hermione as she realised he had now connected her rambling foreward and Draco's abbreviated story together.

"I suppose Mr Malfoy suspects correctly?" the tone was somewhat... softer. Hermione was too shaken to walk and she felt Professor Snape wrap an arm around her waist to lead her to a chair. Great Godric's gonads, it felt good to be in his embrace, albeit a chaste one. "Lucius Malfoy," he sighed. "This is about him?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

Anger coloured his tone. "Raped you?"

"N-not exactly." He cares? Gods, Snape, you are an enigma in black aren't you? "N-not how I define r-rape."

"Did he take you by force? Bruise you? Jinx you?" he turned her around to face him, gently curling his fingers around her arms. Eyes burning with care. Impossible, Hermione thought, Professor Snape does not care for me. "Contrary to popular belief, Miss Granger, I am human and I do have a heart."

"I-I never said you weren't and that you didn't," she stammered.

A small smile graced his lips: "By implying I am incapable of caring you are suggesting otherwise."

"You can read minds?"

"Probably the only male on this Earth to be able to read a woman's mind," his mouth twitched at the corners as he gazed into those gorgeous eyes of hers. "I would not believe everything Black and Lupin say either."

"I don't and Remus respects you more than you think, Sir."

"You came to me to talk about this and you were trying to put it in a way you would think you were after knowledge."

"Who would have thought I would be grateful for Draco Malfoy," Hermione sighed, "still he cannot be all bad. Also, he said it in a way I never could have."

Here Professor Snape's breath caught in his throat: "So, his father," he held in his breath and closed his eyes as if thinking carefully over what to say next: "Seduced you, for want of a better word, a month ago." Bastard, his mind snarled. When he knew she could not... Coward! Immediately he hovered his wand over her womb. "Thank Merlin for that," he sighed. Wanting to hug her, to stroke her hair. "Is that how you would describe it?"

"I was willing, I responded, and I did not fight. That does not make it rape."

"He trapped you in charms to make sure coitus was not interrupted," controlled seduction. Hermione would have been trapped. His usual method. Get them somewhere they could not run from and they gave in. "Would you prefer not to go into sordid detail?"

"I don't know how it began or why." Hermione fidgeted about trying not to cry, "I should have been suspicious that there was a hot reserve of water. Smooth place to sit before I began another swim in the lake."

"Swim?"

"I love swimming."

"What was your attire for bathing?"

"A lilac and silver bikini." She felt his fingers tighten on her biceps but he regained composure. "I have rather vivid dreams – the ones where you think a touch is real. You can taste food. Those sorts of dreams so I thought that I was experiencing a highly sensed dream."

No wonder Lucius chose that moment. Alone. Scantily clad. Warm weather. Perfect for the Sun King of Wiltshire. "Of Lucius?"

"Of a Muggle Actor I am rather fond of," blushing Hermione fiddled with her fingers on her small lap. "It was Malfoy Sr. that told me of the uses of the Time Turner. Then he tapped into my fantasy and seduced me with it, Sir."

"Look at me," reluctantly, Hermione raised her large cinnamon eyes to his own. Hitching in a sob in her throat at the tenderness of expression in his intent gaze as she quivered in his touch. "I am not angry with you over this," Hermione tried not to cry, he could see her refusal of breaking down. Bloody Gryffindors. "What of the second time?" he sighed.

"I was sitting in my local park – watching a family. An auburn haired child had achieved a clean Accio stealing coins from a brutish man's pocket," she growled. "I wanted to hex the Muggle from here to the middle of the next century for laying his hands on the frightened girl. He was going to hit her with his belt." Why was he gripping onto her so fiercely? Was it possible that Snape hated child cruelty? "Harshly, he grabbed the beautiful son – telling the woman that Stephanie was no longer his problem as she was never truly his daughter, calling the mother all sorts of names. Scared the son managed to hover out of his father's arms as he wanted to be with his mother," the hint of pride in Hermione's voice as she recounted her witnessing the next generation of Muggleborns in action was unmistakable. "I wanted to go up to the mother when he left her with the two magical children," she winced as he let go – there were going to be indents of his nails there. Though she did not care. She would not try to excuse or heal them, to her they showed Professor Snape actually worried about his students. Even her. This was private knowledge that she wished for own selfish purposes to keep secret. "But Lu – Mr Malfoy – would only let me watch..."

"In your home town?" Professor Snape blanched. Wow, just when I thought he could not get whiter, Hermione sighed. "I interrupted. Continue."

Checking the time Hermione realised she had best make this quick: "Lucius put himself in another charm. I could see him but it seemed no one else could," she thought she heard Snape swear under his breath. It was deliciously sexy, another time she would have giggled. "Anyway some girls I went to my last school with," why was he being so attentive? Not one nasty comment. Surely he was leading her along? "Began to insult me," she squirmed in her seat as she continued her story. "It was childish but something in me snapped. Years of name calling. Years of bullying. Years of looking at that group of girls looking so perfect, so beautiful. So damn un-me!" now she was seething. "I always tricked the Leader – but this time I made her do something really stupid. Anyhow," Hermione sighed waving her hand as if trying to clear the thought from the air, "it seemed to impress Lucius Malfoy into a full on arousal." Professor Snape had moved closer. Cupping his hands over hers silently urging her to continue: "As he was roughly seducing me behind a tree, again I do not use the word rape because some sick perverted part of me actually enjoyed it, another friend showed up."

Now this was going to be the embarrassing bit. Describing her feelings for her muggle friend was sure to make her blush. "He was two years older than me and we were so close at one time we promised we marry one day," she risked glancing at her Professor. Shocked and flattered that he had knelt down by her side. "He told me that I would never see him again. He told me he was moving to Canada with his father – the parents divorced over the past year," she sighed now brave to keep eye contact. "If I had stayed at home and been bookish I would not have been in a shameful situation then," unwanted tears began to drip down her cheeks: "No, I had to be a... as you put it once: Young Gryffindor wanting to enjoy a nice day!" her bitter tone belied her youth. "After Steven broke my heart Lucius pulled me back behind the tree and then reminded me, rather physically, that certain parts of my body were his, and his alone, and told me to tell no one whilst making me yearn for him all over again. I have been pulling myself apart over this. What do I do?"

"Did he say when he would... again?"

"Mentioned about coming to the school and that he was not going to do it on the ground next time," she sighed. "I know this is my fault. I know I must have done something or said something. I don't..." suddenly Hermione felt his fingernails dig roughly into her wrists and gasped in shock.

"It is most certainly not your fault, Miss Granger," hissed Professor Snape. Fathomless eyes glittered with rage on her behalf that would give Hermione pleasant dreams for the rest of her life. "That I can assure you with right now."

"I was... have been... so scared!"

"As advanced as we have become with our various uses for tinctures, potions and poultices, there is not a concoction yet created that could make a woman resist the attentions of Lucius Malfoy's wandering tongue."

"I thought you would have yelled. Screamed. Called me a silly girl."

"Why?" Professor Snape was truly puzzled over this, "You were, perhaps, too greedy for knowledge which meant the use of the Time Turner," Hermione was about to protest that was due to the fact that she was a Muggleborn but other Muggleborns were not voraciously devouring the Hogwarts Library every term. "How did Lucius know you were in possession of this item?" He was curious as to know what he told her exactly.

"Apparently he signed the final order allowing me permission to use it."

The lying serpent. "Yes," Professor Snape nodded, "in an attempt to burn you out so badly you would be the one to be humiliated rather than his son."

"If that was his ultimate aim in seducing me, this time he succeeded," Hermione said in anger finally standing up as the meekness left her. "Gods Professor," she swept an arm down her robes and looked at him. "Truthfully, all I am is a buck toothed, bushy haired, insufferable know-it-all mudblood!"

"Do. Not. Say. That. Word. In. My. Presence!" Professor Snape said taking a heavy step between each word towards her. "You understand me?"

"But..." she furrowed her brow. "It is what I am."

"How would your friends see you?"

"The same only omit the last adjective," she said wryly. "Why would he seduce me other than to get information about Harry which I would never give. I am not Pettigrew!" she spat.

Professor Snape faltered a little. Oh no, she sighed. I've gone too far. "It is not that," he sighed, "Lucius Malfoy is used to the best."

"I'm not the best, Sir," Hermione said slumping her shoulders as she picked her bag up, "I am just books and cleverness. A girl with an eidetic memory. A brain covered in indistinct curly fuzz."

Professor Snape sighed – this was new territory for him. Normally Gryffindors, with the exception of Lily, held a supreme arrogance over their entire selves. Too assured and strutted around the school like peacocks. Acting like they owned the building. Yet here was the best friend of the Boy-Who-Was-A-Thorn-In-Snape's-Privates. Twiddling her thumbs in her skirts absolutely terrified and insecure. Snape watched her properly. She really did seek approval due to low self-esteem. Starkly now, the girl reminded her of him. Completely. In fact, he sighed with poignant irony – this girl definitely could have been their daughter. Despising his role not for the first time he wanted – no needed – to show this one a peek of the real Snape. The one who loved. Not the Dungeon Bat but the man who cared deeply for his students, damn Dumbledore – I will show this girl I am not the monster everyone perceives me to be.

She felt her bag being removed from her shoulder and she turned to see Professor Snape twisting his mouth: "Magic comes from within, Miss Granger," he said with such tenderness Hermione could not believe this was the same man that made students pee in their pants. Unfortunately the effect he was having on her was another source of moisture. "Muggleborns perform Wandless spells sometimes years earlier than Pureblooded children do to show how raw the energy is."

"Is that why we're... resented?"

"Partially, and do not lump yourself in a group."

Pointing her longest middle digit to her red and gold, lion embossed, logo proudly emblazoned on her robe, Hermione cheekily smiled, showing two sweet dimples as she did so: "Too late, Sir," she said airily. "You are correct, part of the issue is this petty house rivalry but I doubt that will go away in our life time, perhaps never. Shame we just cannot learn to... get along... as a community instead of segregating ourselves in little camps from childhood."

"You know, Miss Granger, that is the most sense I think I have ever heard you speak," with little encouragement Herm... Miss Granger could go into Wizarding Law. Depending on how the Ministry treats her in the future when the Dark Lord returns. "Perhaps you could come over for another lunch time chat where we could discuss the future direction of Hogwarts if you had power to do so?"

Blushing, Hermione suddenly became awkward. Praise, apology, tenderness and now an invite for more personal chats? Who was the real Severus Snape? The one who could cut down the strongest pupil in tears with a well aimed insult or the one she had been spending her lunch hour with. "I may do so, Sir, but at your bequest only." Respect deserves respect. Glancing at her watch she sighed: "I think I had ought to go," she tilted her head. If this was Lupin she could shake his hand. McGonagall would hug her. Dumbledore would have told her to sit back down and offered her a cocoa. "Thank you for listening, Sir," she sighed.

Just before she reached the door Professor Snape was there. Covering her hand over with his making her look up into his eyes: "Thank you for trusting me," he returned in a low haunted voice, "but I will have to inform Headmaster Dumbledore about the fact that Lucius Malfoy was seen in your neighbourhood witnessing two Muggleborn children display their powers."

"Just that, Sir," she said. "Stephanie is auburn haired, freckly, pretty and calls stealing: Temporarily Borrowing," this made Snape sigh and smile at the same time. If he had a daughter that sounded like one he would be have been proud to have conceived but only with the right witch. Much to his discomfort he realised in little over five years, Miss Granger would be an ideal candidate. "Jolyon is a curly headed cheeky blonde with apple cheeks I could not see anything else about him," then she criss crossed the strap of her satchel on her body. "I was not able to get the last name," she was rather sorry about that. "I want to make sure they are well."

"I will endeavour to track them down and make sure the future students are unharmed," Strangely, in an act of what seemed like uncharacteristic gentleness, Professor Snape brushed aside a chocolate curly lock of hair behind her ear. Again, like the way she did with Steven, Hermione raised her hand to where her Professor touched her and felt warm inside. "I understand the delicacy of this issue and it's far reaching consequences to your honour and to young Mr Malfoy's family."

"Yes, he suspects already," Hermione mumbled. "I hope I do not have him confronting me on this. I mean why Professor? Why would Lucius Malfoy want me as his property?"

"Draco has yet to achieve that subtle art of interrogation and misdirection his father possesses, Miss Granger. You have matched him before, you will best him again." With a wry curve of the lips, glowing eyes almost in humour, Professor Snape continued: "I believe I have already explained that if Lucius Malfoy is going to pick a Muggleborn mistress he would pick the ones who held extraordinary abilities, which you have displayed time and again." Hermione gulped. More Professor, speak to me more. I don't want to leave you. Then her gaze wandered down observing how close Professor Snape was to her. The heat made her feel wonderful. She wondered if there was a cure for hormones? Remembering how the proximity of Lucius Malfoy made her feel. With kinder words, warmer tones, and a man she genuinely admired Hermione felt a definite small tingle between her legs. Discomforted at how she was so easily persuaded by her treacherous body to give into carnal nature. Was she, perhaps, meant to be a whore? "No," his voice became harsh as he stepped ever closer. Closing her eyes she breathed him in and how wonderfully he assaulted her senses. "You are not a Whore, Miss Granger," shyly she gazed up into his fathomless eyes that had, themselves, darkened with some sort of desire towards her. Her lips pulsed as they yearned for a lovers caress. "Now, if I hear that Mr Longbottom has to aid you again I will seriously be worried."

"He is not that bad," her husky voice seemed to have an effect on him as his grip tightened around her hand. "At least his parents were magical," she mumbled.

"What did I say about groups?"

"Hard not to when we literally wear our badges with pride, Sir," Hermione smiled, as she noticed his eyelashes. Dark. Long. Splayed wide. He had yet to let go off her hand. The darkened raven eyes hooded over with signs of lust. Hermione realised if they did not break contact and separated they may wind up in extreme trouble that could lead to his sacking. "I have to go, Sir, I may have time for a sandwich." Let me go, she sighed, before I do something really stupid like kiss you Professor. "Professor Snape," she tried to jerk her hand out from under his. The movement stirred him somewhat, as he gazed at her as if she was someone else. "I have to go now."

"What?" he said blinking. Then he noticed he had been cornering Miss Granger against his door. "Sorry," he muttered. No you're not, a wicked voice sneered inside his head, admit it you see why Lucius craves her. You do too. You know how old she is and you could technically take her. Why don't you, Severus? Sweep her up in your arms and keep her locked in your dungeons where no harm shall ever befall her you closet Gryffindor. "You can come back to see me about this problem any time you have a breakdown," he said. "However, I would suggest a mild sleeping draught for the next few nights and I agree with your friends, eat something and rest somewhere comfortable. An open book in the Library is not somewhere comfortable."

"Sir," Hermione sighed as he seemed still somewhat reluctant to let her go as his grip, though lessened, had not left her hand as yet. "Um," she caught his gaze and made him follow her eyes to her hand. "My hand, sir."

"Of course," he sighed reluctantly letting her go. Carefully, Hermione opened the door and cautiously stepped out risking a glance at her dour Professor. Distracted, he seemed to be staring into his fireplace. Hands behind his back clasped in worry. "Miss Granger," he whispered, she stopped in her tracks. Here it is. The insult: "You are more than you think you are," he sighed. Of course she was, his own inner Snape tormented him with. You would not suddenly desire her had you not held her so close to you mere months before. Wonder if she knew how that made you feel? Like you were her own knight in shining armour and you always will be. She's Lily in different colours. Unlike Lily, you know this one would have heard you out. You know this one would have told the Marauders where to go, but she was not there – because of that reason and that reason alone, you despised and taunted her, and will do so again. You despicable creature! "Not many 12 year old's would have been able to have worked out what you managed to in the heat of a moment the way you did." Merlin, he knew she was the one to work out the Potions riddle in the underground crypt where the Philosophers Stone was hidden. "Just remember foxes have bushy tails and they are known for cunning too."

Silently, Hermione shut the door behind and left Professor Snape's office. Unsure of what had passed between them. Did he actually respect her after all and it was all just an act to make sure none of the kids in his house ratted on their parents? Whatever his reasoning, Hermione sighed, it was a weight off her shoulders to have someone she could talk to that would comprehend her situation. Hermione walked around a corner with a smile. Unaware she was being watched by a pair of blue eyes – following her slow; even, more assured step.

"There you are!" Harry exclaimed as they saw Hermione walk in the now emptier Grand Hall. "Where were you?"

"Library," Hermione lied.

"You weren't," Ron sighed. "Lavender and Parvati looked for you in there and they saw nothing of you."

"Maybe I had left by the time they sought me out."

"So then where were you?"

"What is this the bloody inquisition!" Hermione sighed. "I have need to be on my own sometimes, is that so bad?"

"No," Harry said shooting Ron a warning look, which Ron read correctly: "It is not. Sorry," he scooted over so she could sit next to him. "Good job we managed to save you some food before Ron scoffed the lot single handed."

The trio burst out laughing over this and Hermione allowed herself to enjoy the companionship of her friends. "So," she thought aloud, "the Goblet, eh?"

"We can't do it," Ron muttered. "Just our luck something a bit more fun than trailing Grease Nose around making sure he does not kill Harry happens and we're a year too early."

Holding in her usual retort lest it spoil the mood and hiding her blush Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald," she said in perfect imitation of his mother he actually darted his eyes around as if she had appeared at the school, "Professor Snape," she reminded him, "has not been trying to kill Harry, will you let it drop!"

"But..."

"Let it go, Ron," Harry sighed. "We all know Hermione has a crush on him!" he teased elbowing Hermione in the ribs.

"Idonot," she mumbled turning beetroot red. Truth was, in his office, he was concerned. Caring. He was kind towards her. Her now awakened body was almost aching for him to do more than gingerly tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Can we drop it please?"

"Seem to be dropping rather a lot lately are we not, Granger!" a voice sneered.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" Ron jumped up brandishing his wand. "OR I'LL..."

"Make me eat slugs, Measle?" Draco tilted his head.

Harry was about to join in defending his friends honour but Draco rolled his eyes and looked at her reaction. She had not even bothered defending herself. That was... odd. With that he turned on his heel suavely, in almost perfect manner of his father, and walked out of the room.

"Prat!" Ron muttered.

"He was just after a rise out of you," Hermione sighed as she finished her salad and started on a sandwich and drank down some water. Hungrily, she ate the sandwich and looked at her timepiece: "Come on, lessons beckon."

The trio stood up and Hermione thought nothing of Draco's interruption. Typically him, she thought, so what was the real Draco? The one she had not meant to witness in Snape's office or the one who kept needling her on her status. It was only when she got her books neatly arranged and opened at the page where they should be that a note fell at her feet. Picking it up she surreptitiously opened it under her desk and glanced with horror. That little spat in the Hall was just a distraction whilst he put this note in her bag. Even she had to admit that was clever: "We need to talk, Granger. I don't care on whose terms but we have to talk! D."

"Miss Granger," Professor Binns, Hogwarts only resident Ghost Teacher sighed dustily, "have you been listening?"

"Sorry, Sir, I was lost in your eloquence."

Now that was a lie. Professor Binns was probably the only teacher even Hermione found extremely dull. "All right," Binns said. "Mr Longbottom, perhaps, can answer."

Again? This can't be happening. Now she knew why everybody hated Mondays. This one certainly had it in for her...

Except for Professor Snape. He was so wonderful. Compassionate, understanding, kind, he listened. Would have done so up until she got around her illogical ramblings until it came to the point that Draco so unwittingly provided for her. There was a tone in Draco's voice that... No, he can't... inwardly, Hermione groaned. If he did that would really be the icing on the cake.

Chicaning her thoughts back to Snape Hermione ruminated on the way he covered her hand in his as he knelt beside her. She could tell he was willing her not to cry not understanding that she had shed all the tears she possibly could over this scenario. Then that almost fatherly touch of tucking a hair behind her ear before she left made her feel more precious than any amount of praise any other professor could heap on her. To her, it was all the proof she needed that he was not what her friends seemed to believe he was, that she was right.

It dug into her heart when she had to hear Ron and Harry call him names. If only they knew, she sighed, that he was truly there for them. If they bothered to ask.

A/N - Ha ha - bet you all thought Snape was going to be nasty, poisonous and churlish. Nope. I get the feeling he actually respected Hermione even if she does annoy the heck out of him!