A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting this. I've been away etc etc, but here it is. I've been thinking about DH Snape and decided that I will make mine mostly compliant. There still won't really be any spoilers here, though.

---

CHAPTER FOUR

He was furious. His anger was so tremendous that nobody dared look at him; that at least was how it should be. Snape. The word, even as a thought in his head, seemed acidic. The memory of him had the ability to poison.

There had been no word from his spy for days though he had been calling and calling him. The plan was failing. Whether the old man had trapped him or Snape had asked to be trapped he did not know, but the deserter would pay either way.

His larger plan would have to wait for the revenge he desired so much.

---

Hermione jumped, startled, and the shape withdrew slightly. In the dim light she could make out only that it was a large feline creature. She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a squeaking sound. As she was currently an otter, this should not have surprised her as much as it did.

Her mind had not quite caught up with her – whether this was due to her form or just the strangeness of the situation, she didn't know. Feeling dazed, she took a few steps away from the gate. Her companion followed, several paces behind.

She had no idea where they were going; it was too dark to see anything much. Invigorated by the night and the freedom she began to run, her sleek form carrying her quickly over the ground despite her short legs. Behind her the soft padding of heavy paws told her that his pace had quickened too.

A flash of green light in front of her forced her to stop dead. She felt something hit her in the back but before she could analyse it soft jaws were closing around her body and lifting her into the air.

She wriggled, pushing at the creature's mouth with her tiny paws. It growled slightly, agitated, and began to run with urgent bounds back in the direction they had come.

By the flashes of spell-light she could see a rapidly closing circle of cloaked figures: Death Eaters. Why were they attacking? Wasn't Snape on their side? Did they think he had left them? Through the centre they ran blindly, wildly, dodging hexes and curses.

The gate: once they were behind it they would be safe. It was nowhere in sight.

She began to squeak and struggle in earnest until he was forced to drop her. His shape ran on, frantically trying to find the entrance while being wary of the cliff they must be near. A red light came dangerously close and she froze, fearful. To locate their cottage she was sure she had to be in her human form. She had to have a human level of conscious thought; she had to need to return.

Crouching in fear was going to get her nowhere and all the time her companion was out there running for his life. She sank into a deep concentration, desperate to return to her human form.

Whether her need helped her or whether changing back was easier, she didn't know. It seemed to take an age for her limbs to lengthen and her fur to change to skin.

She was on her hands and knees with loud voices all around. They were coming after her and she stumbled forwards, trying to focus on her need to find the house. Suddenly the shape was alongside her again and they were crossing the path, diving through the still-open gate.

They fell to the ground and a last jet of light illuminated the leopard that was now Severus Snape. He was breathing heavily but looked to be largely unharmed. She reached into her robes and drew out her wand.

"Lumos," she whispered.

The sounds and sights of the attack had faded and, in the wandlight, nothing was visible beyond the gate. She knew that they were still there, but apparently the wards prevented them from seeing out as much as it prevented others from seeing in.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was rough but not unkind.

"N-no," she replied shakily. A few slicing hexes had come very close but luckily the only thing that really hurt was the back of her neck where he had grabbed her Animagus form. "Thank you for picking me up, Professor. You're not hurt?" He shook his head, clambering to his feet.

"Get inside, Miss Granger. And-" he paused, grimacing, "Don't go outside that gate again if you don't want to get yourself killed." She nodded, wearily standing up and trudging into the cottage.

---

Safely tucked up in bed with Crookshanks, Hermione let her mind wander over the events of the evening. She had come up here to her Transfiguration books after dinner, as usual, but one thing had been different. As her mind relaxed that last fraction she could feel her body changing. When the transformation was complete she looked down at her small otter-paws and was disappointed for a fraction of a second. Though she had known most people's Animagus forms were the same as their Patronuses, she had wished she'd become something a little more exotic. Nevertheless, she was proud of herself and did like her new sense of smell, sleek body and long tail.

Desperate to see if she could get through the wards she had ventured into the garden. She had hardly been there for a minute, however, when she was joined by another form. It had taken her a while to realise who it was and even longer to work out what it was. Her eyesight had worsened with her change, unlike his, and the dim light hadn't helped.

A leopard! She wouldn't have guessed it in a million years, despite his grace of movement and predatorial qualities. Somehow she would have expected something a little more dramatic; a raven, perhaps, or maybe even a black big cat of some sort.

Then had come the attack. Looking back, she couldn't believe how stupid she'd been to go so far from the gate, especially in the dark. Not only that, but they'd now given away the exact position of their house. It was a disaster on all sides, really, and she couldn't understand why he hadn't at least shouted at her for it. She would have deserved it, for once.

The only reason she could think of was that he was simply too busy with his own thoughts and wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible. Had he known Voldemort was after him? Perhaps Dumbledore only sent him with her because he'd been found out. But Snape couldn't have been found out because he wasn't on either side.

Hermione sighed and tried to empty her mind enough to sleep. The whole situation was far too complicated for her to bother unravelling, especially after midnight. Anyway, at least now she knew that he would have to stay with her unless he wanted to get killed. Why she found this comforting she didn't quite understand. She decided that, from tomorrow, she would do her best to try and get on with him. She realised with a jerk that she had almost subconsciously been looking for friendship. Perhaps, in time, that could be achieved.

---

The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that Dumbledore had deliberately trapped him. Why the man would have lost faith in him after all this time, he didn't know. Maybe he had never had much faith in the first place. One thing was clear – Voldemort was looking for him, and it wasn't to invite him round for dinner. Why? Severus was sure when he'd last seen the Dark Lord that he had been in his favour. That could only mean that, since then, he was believed to have deserted the cause.

This, in turn, could only mean that he had refused to come to the Dark Lord when he had been summoned. But he had not been summoned. The mark on his arm was as dull as it had been after the Potter boy resisted the Killing Curse as a baby. He wondered in passing whether Dumbledore's wards had somehow blocked the connection made by the mark. It didn't ought to be possible but with Dumbledore he had learned that anything was possible.

Not for the first time, he felt caught up in something much bigger than him. He wasn't worried; whatever happened, he would live through the war or die in it and that would be the end of everything. For the moment, though, he was stuck here and he would try to start again. Hermione – or Granger, or whatever – would make amiable enough company if he just put his mind to seeking it. He couldn't believe he was having those thoughts, especially with her being a Gryffindor, but he had not always sought solitude. In this house he had no standard to upkeep and no façade to put on. He did not have to please the Dark Lord or Dumbledore or people like Lucius Malfoy.

His thoughts turned back to the evening and Animagi. He had been surprised at Hermione's form; he had expected something typical like a lioness. That said, he had been surprised at his own. His Patronus, a doe, served as a reminder of his love for Lily. He had known, or hoped, that he would not become a stag like that idiot Potter. He felt his attachment to Lily was not strong enough for that anymore. The leopard, he could only suppose, came from his own soul – like Hermione's otter. It wasn't what he expected but he liked it all the same.

After the marathon he'd had to run earlier and the marathon his thoughts had run afterwards, he was beginning to feel tired. Undressing, he crawled into bed and fell to sleep almost immediately.

---

She drifted awake gradually and lay still for a moment, finding the strength to drag herself into a vertical position. Her neck was annoyingly sore and she really, really wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. It seemed an age since she had woken up in her Head Girl's room and gone to breakfast with Ron and Harry. She missed them more every day though she doubted they had much noticed her absence – except maybe when they wanted to copy her notes.

Placing an indignant Crookshanks on the floor she climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

She was rinsing shampoo from her hair and humming softly when the door burst open unceremoniously and a scantily clad Professor Snape entered.

He jumped and went decidedly red, turning around.

"Miss Granger!" he boomed. "I'll thank you to lock the door next time!" She watched him leave hurriedly and resisted the urge to laugh. Luckily she was mostly hidden behind the shower screen. Why had she not locked the door? She must have got out of the habit when she'd had a bathroom to herself. Making sure all the soap was out of her hair she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. She'd never much liked drying charms.

Professor Snape was standing awkwardly in the hallway in what looked like green boxers, clutching a towel. Hermione noticed there was still a hint of red colouring his pale cheeks.

"Sorry, Professor," she said brightly, "Won't happen again. Shower's all yours." He made a gruff noncommittal noise and headed for the bathroom.

She sighed. He had definitely become much easier to live with since the first day but there was still a way to go on the friendship score. Maybe, she thought, about the distance from the Earth to the Moon. Still, an improvement was an improvement.

Downstairs she found a message from the Headmaster on the parchment.

I hope you aren't hurt? It was foolish of you to breach the wards. I hope you have learned your lesson – I would have expected more from both of you. AD.

Should she leave the message for Snape? She decided it was aimed at them both and penned her reply.

I'm sorry, Headmaster, it was my fault. I just wanted the challenge and I felt so caged. I was stupid. I promise I won't go out again. HG.

Not expecting a reply, she was surprised when her neat letters were replaced by Professor Dumbledore's small, slanted handwriting.

I understand, Hermione. I am sorry that I had to do this to you, but I hope you will stay inside the gate for now. I trust the project is coming along as planned?

Yes, sir. I don't know if we're going to try and add extra properties to the potion. I hope Professor Snape will let me help as much as I can; I want to try and do something useful.

Thank you, my dear. I shall speak to Severus. Speaking of Severus, do you think you could leave my next message on here? I'd rather like to hear what he says about last night.

Certainly, Professor.

There was a long pause where her Headmaster was clearly trying to remember what he had written first. Then the original message reappeared and she left it to get some breakfast.

---

"-two turns clockwise…" He stood behind her, ready to take action if she made a mistake. She obeyed him silently though she already knew the instructions by heart. His voice so close to her ear was having an odd effect on her and more than once she very nearly lost her concentration.

When the stage was completed she lowered the flame and cleaned the stirring rod. When he did not direct her otherwise, she consulted the book and went to add more ingredients to the end of the queue.

He was watching her intently and she wondered what he was thinking. After she had restocked the queue he said,

"We should get some lunch, Miss Granger. We must be back here in twenty minutes." She nodded and left the room in front of him. At the top of the steps she was forced to clamber over a large trunk that he had put there in order to stop the door closing.

"Honestly," she complained, "Isn't it almost better to have the Viennese Whirls? I can't help thinking there's got to be some risk associated with barricading the door like this." Hopping over the trunk decidedly more gracefully than she had managed, he raised an eyebrow and said,

"Perhaps you just feel your climbing ability is inferior to mine, Miss Granger?" She glared half-heartedly and shot back,

"I should think you should be better than me, Professor, what with me being an otter and you being… what was it? Obviously I couldn't see very well in the dark… but you were distinctly like a lion. Quite Gryffindor, wouldn't you say?" The look he gave her would have curdled milk.

"I would have thought even you, Miss Granger, would be able to distinguish between a lion and a cheetah." She looked up gleefully.

"Oh, but I can. It seems it's you with the problem. I'd have thought, what with you being a teacher, that you'd know the difference between a leopard and a cheetah. You see, cheetahs have-" She was cut off by an angry exclamation.

"Miss Granger!" Snape was shouting but it was obvious his heart wasn't really in it. "I don't care what cheetahs have! As far as I'm concerned, I was a large cat-like animal with spots and a tail and we now have sixteen minutes in which to have lunch!" Smiling, she followed him into the kitchen.

---

He lay on his bed, savouring the forty-three minutes he had spare before the next phase of brewing. So far, plan get-on-with-Hermione was going well. Sadly, plan stop-thinking-about-Hermione-in-an-inappropriate-way was not going so well. If he didn't know better he'd swear she'd navigated that box – twice – in the most arousing way possible. Both times he'd been faced with a brilliant view of her rear end in jeans that were just bordering on being too tight. And this morning in the bathroom… all he could hope was that she thought the shower screen had hidden her.

He listened to her crossing the landing, tunefully singing something about not wanting the world to see her. Well, she got her wish here, he thought. He wouldn't have imagined her to be musical, but not many people were at Hogwarts where Muggle devices for listening to music didn't work.

There was a scrabbling at the door and he opened it to find a rather adorable otter peering up at him.

"Mreep?" He frowned, wondering what that was supposed to mean. "Meep-mreep?" This elaboration didn't make things any clearer. The otter was standing on her hind legs now, staring up at him.

"What d'you want?" he asked. "And what am I meant to call you? Miss Granger hardly seems appropriate."

"Meep."

"How about 'Otter'?"

"Meep…" This he took as a disgruntled affirmative. Her paws – if they could be called paws, as they were webbed – were now batting his leg gently. As he watched, she did what he was sure was meant to be an impression of a lion. He raised an eyebrow.

"You want me to change?"

"Meep!" He frowned. He felt a bit odd conversing with an otter.

"I can't imagine your reasons. I must warn you that if you make me late for that potion I'll hex you into next week, Hermione Granger." In a second a leopard stood in his place. With a joyous chorus of 'Meep meep meep!' the otter raced off. He rolled his eyes and followed.

He took the stairs in one bound and waited haughtily and the bottom while she took them in tiny steps. Her legs were so charmingly short! She was letting out what he was sure was a string of otter swear words when she tripped slightly and tumbled the rest of the way down.

He pushed her to her feet with his nose and continued on, liking how he could take one step to her three. When they reached the garden he started to run, laughing at her futile attempt to keep up.

Running round the house it was a while before he realised she was no longer following. He called out and it came out as a small growling sound. Giving up, he was about to look in the house for her when there was a loud 'M-reep!' and she jumped out at him, dancing round in circles and clearly grinning. He batted at her with his paw and she ducked teasingly.

He batted at her again, only to find she'd returned to her human form. She caught his paw, laughing.

"Bad kitty!" she said. Then as an afterthought she added, "Those claws are sharp, you know." She could have sworn he rolled his eyes. She patted him on the head; his fur was soft under her fingers. He growled and changed back to a crouched Professor Snape. She backed off to a respectful distance and he said,

"It would serve you well to note I am not a domestic kitten, Miss Ott- I mean, Miss Granger." She laughed.

"I am aware of that, Professor, but you're just so endearingly like one. It's hardly my fault you turn into something so cuddly." He looked as if the word 'cuddly' might kill him, so she added, "Did you see the Headmaster's message this morning?" Nodding, he got to his feet and went inside.

---

"I don't suppose, Otter, in your infinite wisdom that you know something useful we can do with fourteen stale Viennese Whirls?" The small animal sat up on her hind legs and took one of the biscuits from him. Sniffing it carefully, she took a small bite. He laughed as she fought to swallow, coughed slightly and nonchalantly replaced the confection on the table.

Did he realise he'd laughed, she wondered? Coming back to her human form she said,

"I think those are even worse as an animal, no wonder Crookshanks won't eat them… Of course, being stale doesn't help either."

"I should imagine not." He was still smiling – an odd expression, like he wasn't used to it, but nice nevertheless. "The potion is nearly into the complicated phase; I should like us to go down there." She nodded and followed him out of the room.

It had been an odd day, she thought as she waited for him to hop gracefully over the trunk. He seemed to treat her almost as an equal when they were in animal form. This behaviour did seem almost to be starting to occur all the time, too. This new side of Severus Snape, she decided, she liked very much. Coming here, apart from the attack, was turning out almost as fun as staying at Hogwarts. Hopefully he would let her help with the brewing through this next phase. The war was coming - surely it would not be far off – but at the moment there was no time for worrying. She was safe here, for now, and somehow she trusted him.