A/N I'm afraid finals and then a trip to England got in the way of posting this chapter… I had half of it finished before I left, and then I was stuck in the New Forest (a very nice place, if you like horses) without a computer, leaving me unable to write anything over the past month and a bit. I'm really sorry about the wait, and if you're still with me, thank you for not giving up. I'm going to edit this for mistakes, post it, and then sit down and write the next chapter immediately. Again… really, really sorry. Forgive me!

After Hermione's giggles had subsided, and Snape's scowl had reached epic proportions, she finally went upstairs to look through his closet. Snape was extremely reluctant to let her into his room, but he did not have much choice after she pointed out that she would need to see what clothes he had for her to be able to help him. He reluctantly opened the wardrobe door, and Hermione momentarily felt like she had gone blind.

"You don't own any clothes that aren't black?" she asked him.

"No," he said shortly.

"Right. Um… okay, what muggle clothes do you have?"

"Those I've been wearing into town."

"That's all you have?" she asked in disbelief.

"Is there a problem with your hearing, Miss Granger?" he asked her in a dangerously low voice.

"Not at all, professor. Repetition of a phrase that comes as a surprise to the one who hears it is in fact a common occurrence in general conversation," she told him. Not wishing to start another argument, she said quickly, "I think we'll have to transfigure something for you. All black is good sometimes, but you probably don't want the town thinking you're a Goth. I don't know, maybe you do, but we should probably add a touch of a different colour, if nothing else." And it wouldn't do to look like you're still in mourning on your date this evening, she added to herself.

Snape glared at her.

"Okay, black it is," she said hastily. "Umm… let's see. You've got the pair of black trousers… how about jeans? Then maybe a short-sleeved shirt, much more casual. Hmm. Can I transfigure one of your robes, sir?"

"This one," Snape said, drawing one that looked identical to at least five of his others from the wardrobe. "If you must," he added. Hermione rolled her eyes and took the robe from him.

"I'll need another one, too," she told him. "Unless you're willing for me to cut this in half, that is." He silently handed her a second robe. "Thank you." With a frown at the material, Hermione took out her wand and swished it experimentally. It shrunk to short sleeved plain black shirt. Another swish and the hems were sewn in silver. He raised an eyebrow at her but did not comment, so Hermione left it as it was. She smiled to herself… she would have him wearing grey in no time. Somehow, however, she doubted she would be able to get him to wear anything brighter. Like blue. Or hot pink. That vision made her smile widen, and Snape glared at her.

"Just thinking," she told him amiably. "Now for the jeans…"

Getting the material to change to denim took some work, but once that was done it was relatively easy to charm the colour black. The conventional pockets and seams were difficult to do, but in the end they looked as if they had been bought in a conventional muggle shop. With a grin, Hermione added a brand name, too. Then, deciding she might as well go all the way into her little venture into piracy, she added the polo symbol to the shirt, in red. Snape's other eyebrow went up, but he still refrained from commenting. Hermione was rather impressed at his restraint.

"I've finished, sir. Why don't you try it on, and then I'll make any adjustments."

"Very well, Miss Granger." She nodded and turned to leave the room. "I thought you wished to make adjustments, Miss Granger?" he asked. She turned, and saw him wearing the clothes she had just transfigured.

"How…" she began, and Snape smirked at her.

"Magic, Miss Granger. The reason for the last six years of your schooling."

She chose to ignore that comment, and instead critically eyed his clothes. The shirt could do with being a little larger, an adjustment she made easily enough. The jeans were a little strange. Summoning to mind a memory of Harry's jeans last summer, she made the necessary adjustments. Much better, she thought approvingly. I wonder what he'd say if he knew I used Harry's clothes as a model? she thought idly. Then again, she reflected, he'd be even angrier if I based his clothes on Dudley's cast-offs before I shrunk them to fit Harry better.

"Have you finished, Miss Granger?" Snape asked sourly. She realised that she had been staring at his legs for quite a while, and blushed slightly.

"I think so, Professor. Now, your hair…"

"What about my hair, Miss Granger?" he asked in a dangerously calm voice.

"It's quite long, really. Have you considered tying it in a ponytail?"

"No."

"Perhaps you should."

"Why, Miss Granger? While I can see that you are enjoying dressing me up as a child would a favourite doll, I fail to see any humour in this situation. I believe I am muggle enough. I thank you, but that will be all." Hermione looked at him, considering. Perhaps it was time to admit defeat, at least for the day. She smirked. The ponytail, nose piercing, and tattoo can wait for later.

"Okay, Professor," she told him.

He eyed her suspiciously. She gave him what she hoped was an innocent look but, judging from his narrowing eyes, was probably not as innocent as she had thought.

"I'll be going, then, professor. You might like to leave fairly soon since you'll be walking all the way there in the rain. Enjoy your…" she considered saying 'date,' but decided that her life would be safer if she did not. "…evening," she finished.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"Jane, uncle," she reminded him with a grin, and then fled the room, deciding that she had already pushed her luck enough today. She would take the Charms practice exam paper one this evening, she decided, have dinner, and then sit down to the second exam. Humming contentedly to herself, Hermione closed the door to her room and began searching for a pen.

Severus Snape, meanwhile, was decidedly put out. He wondered morosely whether or not he was losing his touch. She hadn't even been afraid of him! She'd been sharing a house with him, and today she had dared to actually tease him. Glaring at his foreign reflecting in the mirror, he allowed himself a weary sigh before trudging down the stairs and out the door. Buffeted by the rain, he began the long trip to town.