Something to Worry About

Disclaimer: Pretty standard, after all. If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, now would I?

A/N: Same as before, see end of chapter.

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It was inevitable that Hermione Granger would research a subject to death if she was at all interested in it. In fact, she had done so when she didn't quite care. But this was different. She had to know the things that made HIM tick. Otherwise her whole plan would go to hell in a hand basket.

Unfortunately, it was the one place that she couldn't find anything about him at all that she wound up studying him the most:

The library.

Stalking was not on Hermione's list of things she would ever admit to doing. However, she was not totally above it.

She peered at him through the bookshelves in an attempt to investigate the Potions Master while he researched in the library. Anyone noticing her would have thought nothing more than that she was searching for an elusive book title. That is, until he spoke.

"Miss Granger, you are incredibly bad at spying. Come out from behind there and tell me exactly why you have been following me like some half-wit Ministry Auror.

She wilted like a flower under his words and dragged herself sheepishly from her hiding spot. He turned his head to look at her.

"Come with me," he stated only loud enough for her to hear him. Taking his time, he gathered various books and parchments and ink, tucking his wand up his sleeve, and headed out the door. She followed him, barely keeping up with his long-legged stride. She knew where they were headed as soon as they took the second set of stairs on the left past the Great Hall. Down, down, down the dungeon steps they trekked, and she followed him obediently. His gait didn't slow until they'd reached the door to his classroom. He unlocked it with a swish of his wand; if he said a password , she never heard it.

She'd continued to assist him in this classroom for the last week, although conversation and manner had been strained.

"In," he said, holding open the heavy oak door, an expectant look on his face. She did as instructed, waiting for him to close the door.

"Sit."

She sat, taking the first chair by the door. He leaned back against it, staring at her as if waiting for an explanation.

She didn't give him one.

"I thought we talked about this."

She looked at the floor.

She looked at the scarred, burned surface of the desk in front of her.

She looked at anything and everything but him.

"Look at me when I speak to you, girl."

She looked at his buttons.

"I said, look at me," he growled.

She looked into his eyes. In the unlit classroom, half of his face was hidden by shadow, but his jaw was set tightly; he was barely controlling anger. His eyes glinted darkly. She suddenly felt ashamed; her eyes flooded with tears. She blinked then away maddeningly.

"I thought we talked about this," he repeated.

"W-we did, I suppose."

"Then why won't you let it go? Damn it girl, you're my student and I won't get involved." He stomped to his desk and began shuffling papers in an attempt to look busy. He set the library books down on his desk chair.

"There isn't any rule against it." She said it so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"What?"

"I'm of age, and there isn't any rule against a student-teacher relationship if the student is legally of age."

He gaped at her. Had she even thought through what she was saying?

He softened; even though she kept trying to hide them, he could see the tears threatening to spill over; damn it, he didn't want her to start crying.

"Miss Granger, do you understand the severity of the consequences should Voldemort find out? You and your family are already targets. Being the paramour of a Death Eater isn't a really good idea. I suggest you think about this and head back to your dormitory. It is, after all, ten minutes to curfew, and I don't really want to take house points from you.'

She stood as she had a week ago, one hand on the door, face turned toward him as she was leaving.

"Yes, you wouldn't want take points from me, now would you, professor?"

The mocking tone of her voice echoed in the empty dungeon room.

*

It was early the very next morning that the barriers that had protected Hogwarts for centuries began to crack. Death Eaters spilled through the break, wands at the ready.

Voldemort had come to Hogwarts.

And the side of the Light slept soundly in their beds.

~

A/N: Really short chapter in preparation for chapter five. Kind of a filler chapter; did you like the end twist? I have a feeling that the plot bunny haunting me for weeks is going to turn this into a novel-length fic. Next chapter begins the final battle, and it will be a TOTAL angst-fest.

Thanks to all of my reviewers; you inspire me.