A/N: Woah! So I wasn't expecting the response I got on the last chapter. I was expecting a whole lot more outrage, so I want to throw a huge thank you to all of you for being open-minded and decent, rather than twattish. I CANNOT wait to see what you make of this chapter!

xx-Kitten.

Darkness and Silence

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Ten

Hermione packed her suitcase quietly, unable to look at Lavender as the other girl chatted animatedly to Parvati about how she'd been invited to the Burrow for a brief time over the holidays. She was loudly boasting about it as though Hermione hadn't been invited there every holiday since first year, and it was hard not to roll her eyes at the silly, simpering witch. She felt terribly guilty for shagging Ron last night when Lavender was obviously so smitten with Hermione's best friend, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. She never did, where Ron was concerned. Besides, Lavender was only being such a chit about it all because she thought it would bug her and Hermione couldn't help chuckling quietly to herself.

"Something funny, Hermione?" Parvati asked raising her eyebrows.

"It's just occurred to me that I'll have to put up with Lavender over Christmas," Hermione said.

"What?" Lavender asked. "You're going to Ron's house, too?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I spend a portion of every holiday as the Burrow," she said, smiling widely and feeling just a little bit like she might be channelling Severus – his magic still fluttering against her own from her little absorption trick the other day. "Mr and Mrs Weasley think of me like a daughter. It's practically my mailing address. Won't it be fun to share a bedroom there too, Lav?"

Lavender made a face, looking entirely furious and Hermione laughed wickedly as she finished packing her trunk and levitated it behind her, ready to leave.

"I'll bet they like me better than you," Lavender sneered quietly.

Hermione paused in the doorway on her way out, turning to look at Lavender over her shoulder.

"I'll bet Molly Weasley is going to eat you alive," Hermione replied, positively grinning at the thought of how Molly would react to having such a simpering twit for a potential daughter-in-law. Given how badly she'd taken to Fleur, Hermione could just imagine that Lavender was in for a very uncomfortable Christmas.

Without another word, Hermione left the blonde girl standing there looking pale and worried now, rather than spiteful.

"Alright there, Hermione?" Ron asked when she reached the common with a spring in her step.

"I'm fantastic," Hermione beamed at him. "I can't wait to see what your mother thinks of Lavender."

Ron laughed.

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I… uh… didn't get around to warning Lav about her, yet."

"What, really?" Harry asked, pausing in his feast on a chocolate frog to stare at his friend in alarm.

"Didn't want to spook her too much," Ron shrugged.

"This is going to be the best Christmas, ever," Hermione announced, skipping closer and stealing a bite of Harry's chocolate before leading the way out of the common room.

Harry and Ron followed her, arguing over the merits of warning Molly about Lavender and her simpering giggle. They dropped their trunks off in the Entrance Hall on the way to breakfast and Hermione almost stumbled as she skipped into the Great Hall and ran right into Professor Snape as he was on his way out.

"Oomph," she said, her hands coming up to rest against his chest while he gripped her shoulders, forcing her back a step and steadying her.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, eyeing her coolly before his eyes jumped to Ron and Harry behind her.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked, his hand brushing the middle of her back.

"Fine," Hermione said. "Sorry for barrelling into you, sir."

"Watch where you're going next time, Miss Granger," he chastised, his hands tightening reflexively around her arms before he released her.

"Of course, sir," Hermione said, unable to keep the wide smile from her face. "Got any plans for Christmas, sir?"

He eyed her darkly, obviously less than pleased by her attempts at polite conversation.

"Unfortunately, yes," he replied, and Hermione almost laughed at how annoyed he seemed by the idea. "Now, go away, Miss Granger. You're entirely too cheery for so early in the morning."

"And I haven't even had my coffee yet," Hermione grinned. "Well, Happy Christmas, Professor Snape."

He narrowed his eyes on her, obviously thinking it ridiculous that she was bothering with such formality when he'd probably be dragged to some Order gathering at Headquarters over the holidays.

"Try to stay out of trouble, Miss Granger," he sneered in retort, stepping around her.

"But trouble is so much fun," Hermione heard herself softly say, watching the way his dark eyes darted to her face, flashing in warning. He didn't respond before stalking away, but Hermione couldn't keep the grin off her face.

"Twisted," she heard Ron mutter in her ear when they reached the Gryffindor table, but she ignored him as she fixed herself a hearty breakfast, in entirely too good a mood to let anything bother her.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"It would be unwise to draw any undue attention to yourself over the holidays, Draco," Severus told his godson in the quiet of his office shortly before the train was supposed to depart.

"I'd figured that much out for myself, Severus," Draco drawled, entirely too snarky in his terror to bother with titles.

"Your attempts with the necklace and the poisoned mead will not go unnoticed," Severus went on quietly. "Claim that Potter interfered with the girl during her mission to bring the item to Dumbledore and the Dark Lord will be merciful. He is prone to making allowances when Potter meddles."

Draco curled his lip.

"You realise the focus this season will be on you, not me, don't you, Severus?" Draco asked, eyeing him over the rim of his tea-cup – laced with Calming Draught to ensure the boy actually took the train home rather than holing up in his dormitory all Christmas.

"I am aware," Severus inclined his head. "And yet, my concern lies with you."

For the briefest of moments, a flicker of the little boy Draco had once been could be seen and Severus almost wondered if the boy wasn't suddenly itching with the urge to climb over his desk and nestle into his arms, as he'd done as a tot whenever he was scared.

"Save your concerns for yourself, Uncle," Draco murmured softly, using a long-since-shelved title he'd once addressed him as before he could master the concept of godparents over blood relatives. "The whispers I've heard suggest that you're going to be given a few unpleasant gifts this Yule."

"Don't let one of them be your suffering or your death, Draco," Severus said quietly. "I'm afraid I might take issue with such a gift, and it would be a terrible day in Malfoy Manor were I to be seen spurning a gift bestowed upon me by the Dark Lord."

Draco's mouth twitched into a familiar smirk that Severus hadn't seen him wear all year before it fell from his face once more.

"How do you do it, Severus?" he asked quietly. "How do you not… spit in his face and call him a bastard? How do you stand there in his presence, defiantly speaking out when he makes certain suggestions, without fearing his wrath? All I want to do is pull my wand and curse him whenever I'm near him. I want to…"

Draco looked away, clenching his hand around his wand and gritting his teeth.

"When he threatens Mother and Father, I want to use the Killing curse, Uncle. I hate the Dark Lord," Draco blurted bitterly, and Severus wondered how long he'd been holding that in.

"No, Draco," Severus said gently. "You love the Dark Lord, as we all do."

Draco scoffed.

"I'd sooner abandon all blood purity and run off with a muggle than ever love the likes of that monster," he breathed, almost as though he couldn't believe he dared say such things.

Severus sipped his tea, eyeing his godson over the rim before he whispered. "Wouldn't we all?"

Draco dropped his cup, his hands shook so much at the admission, and Severus rose to his feet when the boy jumped up and rounded the desk, hurling himself against Severus's chest. He'd been wondering how long it might take before he broke, and Severus found himself pleased it was happening now, rather than in the middle of a meeting or in the presence of the Dark Lord. Catching his godson, Severus pulled him close as he hadn't since Draco had been just a boy.

He hated the humanity that stirred in his chest, the embrace recalling a million memories of Draco's childhood spent reading the boy stories and bouncing him on his knee and sneaking him sweets when Narcissa pretended not to look. It had been a long time since such memories had surfaced, buried deep beneath layers of Occlumency and hatred and wretchedness.

"I don't want to die," Draco breathed, his face hidden in Severus's shoulder.

"You won't, Draco," Severus told him. "I would commit the most heinous of crimes to protect you."

"He's going to kill my Mum and Dad," Draco whispered brokenly. "He'll torture them because I've failed."

The use of the terms 'mum' and 'dad' told tales of how scared Draco truly was. He hadn't referred to his parents by those titles since he'd been just a tot and Severus found his arms lifting to squeeze his godson into a tight embrace.

"He might torture them," Severus admitted. "He might torture you, too. And I won't be able to intervene. You need only get through the holiday, Draco. After that you will be out of his reach, once more."

"He's torturing them every time I fail," Draco shook his head.

"Not every time," Severus disagreed. "I was with your parents last night. They're in good health, but for their worry for you. They're anxious to see you."

Draco hands fisted the back of his robes as he tried to pull himself together, and he jerked away just as suddenly as he'd claimed the embrace, never wanting to seem weak. Severus understood the urge and he let the boy go, watching him turn his pale face away to hide his red eyes as he surreptitiously wiped at them.

"Will it ever end?" Draco asked quietly, his voice thick.

"One day," Severus nodded. "Perhaps sooner than you think."

Draco glanced at him sharply, his brows drawn, before he squared his shoulders and reached for his propriety once more.

"Thank you for the tea, and the advice, Severus," he said formally.

Severus inclined his head in turn, knowing it was best if Draco distanced himself once more, even if the shreds of humanity that still existed within Severus wished it didn't have to be so. Merlin's bollocks, he would kill Miss Granger for these wretched sparkles of humanity and feelings that he'd been enduring since the Essentia Ceangal that had occurred between them. They should have worn off, by now, and yet he would swear that little glitters of her magic were still interspersed amid his own, causing moments of weakness such as his revealing his past to Potter, and his sentiment over his godson.

Draco hurried from the room, leaving Severus alone once more and he dropped down to sit behind his desk, his brow furrowed as he traced the tip of his finger along his lower lip. He needed to do something about Miss Granger, but he had no idea what. He needed to do something about Draco, Lucius and Narcissa, too. He doubted the Dark Lord would be merciful if he ever suspected Severus had turned traitor. The idea of seeing them suffer for his sake didn't sit well.

A knock intruded on his thoughts a short time later and Severus looked up, his eyes narrowed at the idea that a student dared come to call on him when they all ought to be making for the station down in Hogsmeade.

"Enter," he growled, hoping whoever it was might hear his tone and think better of their decision to bother him.

When the door was pushed open, Severus supposed he should have seen it coming the minute she uttered her little comment about trouble being fun.

"Miss Granger?" he said, eyeing her from across his desk as she walked confidently into the room, not at all concerned that he might tell her to go away.

"Good morning, sir," she greeted him, as though she hadn't barrelled into him in the Great Hall. Severus watched her with annoyance as she closed the door firmly behind her and warded it before crossing the room and helping herself to the chair in front of his desk, uninvited.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked in frustration when she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, regarding him quietly.

"We never finished our discussion the other day," she said softly. "And you've been avoiding me since then."

"I don't believe either of us actually planned on discussing anything further, Miss Granger," he drawled, narrowing his eyes on her.

Her lips twitched into a quick grin and she nodded her head, conceding the point.

"I chose both," she said, launching into the topic as though there hadn't been more than two weeks between then and now; as though they'd never been interrupted. "So, I wondered what your theory might be about that, sir, and I wondered if you still believe Dolohov's curse had anything to do with it."

Severus leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and eyeing her in silence, waiting for her to grow uncomfortable. She didn't fidget beneath his gaze the way most of his students were prone to doing. She simply waited. Severus hated her a little bit more for that.

"Has your patronus always been a fox?" He asked finally, conceding that she was determined to discuss it and not going to be intimidated into just leaving well enough alone.

She shook her head. "It was an otter last year. And I know that Tonks had her patronus change when she fell for Remus, but I haven't fallen in love with anyone, so I don't believe that's the cause for the change. Do you know of any other reasons a patronus changes shape, sir?"

Severus mulled it over, taking another deliberately slow sip from his tea cup as he regarded her, intrigued that she wasn't at all nervous or uncomfortable beneath his gaze. She often grew to be, during classes when he eyed her projects critically, but it seemed that while she clearly craved academic approval, she wasn't looking for his approval outside the classroom. Severus wondered if it was born of confidence or arrogance.

"Despite popular and thick-headed myths, a patronus does not only change shape when two dunderheaded fools make the mistake of developing feelings for one another, Miss Granger. That change, and any change of shape a patronus takes, is born of an alteration to the personality of the witch or wizard. Anything that affects the core magic of the wielder by altering who they are fundamentally can cause such change. While falling in love does affect the soul, changes such as that of Miss Tonks - wherein the shape of hers changed to reflect the shape of Lupin's - are more often than not born of obsession, rather than healthy and reciprocated love. Often when two people are evenly matched - as close to being soulmates as any educated person might allow without sounding ridiculous - their patroni will form the male and female counterpart for one another. Miss Tonks, however, bears the same male counterpart wolf patronus as Lupin, displaying obsession. However, as you believe you have not fallen in love like some hapless fool, any other alteration to who you are as a witch can cause the change. Did you lose your virginity sometime between the initial otter shape and now?"

She didn't even have the decency to blush and Severus clenched his fist as she shook her head.

"No. I lost my virginity in the summer after fourth year but didn't cast a patronus until midway through fifth."

"You have witnessed death since then. Black's expiration may have affected your core in the same way that seeing death allows one to see Thestrals," Severus said.

Again, Miss Granger shook her head.

"I'd cast my patronus since then," she told him. "It was still an otter over the summer. The change is recent."

"Suggesting, then, that your survival of Dolohov's curse is also not the cause for the change. Do you remember precisely when you last cast a patronus before the change?"

"Not since the summer. So, it has to have been something I did since September," she sighed, frowning as though trying to recall anything new she might've experienced since the commencement of the school year. "The only unusual thing I did this year was shag you, Severus. Your patronus isn't a fox, is it?"

Severus shook his head. "No, it is not. Though your interaction with me might cause such a change. I am a Dark wizard, after all, and the fusion of our magics might have altered something in you enough to change your patronus shape. A fox and an otter are somewhat similar."

"One is just a bit more cunning and less playful than the other."

"Do you consider yourself to be more cunning than playful of late, Miss Granger?" Severus drawled, unable to keep his eyes on her face when she shifted slightly in her seat.

"Perhaps," she murmured, frowning.

"Weasley's patronus," Severus said, frowning in return. "What is it?"

"A Jack Russell terrier," she told him. "Harry's is a stag."

"And Mr Krum's" Severus asked.

She blinked, her frown deepening. "A wolf, I think."

"Not a fox?" He confirmed.

"Mine hasn't changed to reflect Viktor's," she rolled her eyes. "How did you know about he and I, anyway?"

"One need only read the newspaper to discover the nifflers in your bank vault, Miss Granger," he smirked.

"Not all of them," she said, looking at him pointedly and Severus might've laughed were he more prone to such things.

"Not yet, anyway," he muttered darkly, dreading the day when it would undoubtedly come to light that he'd been fucking one of his students.

"Yes, well," she sniffed, sighing. "Wait… I came of age since the summer. Would turning seventeen be a cause for a big enough change to my core that it would change my patronus?"

Severus had never considered it. Most wizards never actually managed to perfect the Patronus Charm enough to have cast a corporeal patronus before the age of seventeen.

"It's as good an explanation as any," he said after a long pause.

"And the magic?" she asked quietly. "Do you have a theory about the fact that I was unable to choose between the Light and Dark magic in the jars, sir?"

Here, Severus's mouth twisted into a mean little smile.

"Actually, I do," he said, watching the way her expression grew wary when she saw how he was looking at her. "You were unable to figure out which was Dark and which was Light because both spells were neutral, Miss Granger. They felt different when you touched each one because my intent whilst unleashing the magic was of a Lighter or Darker mindset, but it was the same spell inside both jars; one that can be used for Light, or for Dark, depending on the will of the caster."

"Which spell was it?" she asked, frowning.

"A Blood Warming charm," Severus said. "Used in healing magic to regulate body temperature and calm the infirmed; or, alternatively, used by Dark wizards to boil the blood of a victim until their brain melts and their flesh sloughs off. You were unable to tell them apart because I didn't put enough good or wicked intent into either one to allow you to feel the difference."

She looked thunderstruck, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in outrage. Severus began to laugh.

"You!" she spluttered. "You let me think for weeks that I was turning into some…some… terrible person who couldn't even distinguish between good and bad? You avoided me, even when I attempted to speak to you about it and you let me think I…"

Severus laughed harder, entirely amused by how positively furious she looked. Her curls crackled with purple light, her magic sparking as her temper flared and when she shot to her feet, he almost choked on his own amusement.

"Stop laughing!" she snapped, slapping her hand down on his desk and glaring at him over it. "How could you? I've been worried sick that I must've somehow corrupted my moral compass and you just…"

She stomped her foot, flying into an even more glorious rage and Severus watched the magic in her curls, making her hair begin to frizz out of control. Her eyes glittered with fury as she glared at him.

"I should hex you," she snarled, and Severus laughed even harder at the very idea until he felt certain tears might begin to stream down his face in hilarity if he didn't get a grip.

She stomped around his desk angrily, wrenching his chair around to make him face her with a surprising amount of strength for so slight a witch and Severus looked up at her, still laughing, as she put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, apparently thinking about how to most effectively punish him.

"How could you?" she demanded again as his laughter faded to a chuckle.

"It's hardly my fault that your friend was unable to control himself and burst into my office to interrupt before I could explain, Miss Granger," he drawled, leaning back in his chair and regarding her, just daring her to throw a hex at him like she so obviously wanted to.

"And you didn't think that maybe you should've attempted to explain to me later?" she hissed. "You could've kept me back after class or spoken to me about it during one of my detentions rather than pawning me off on Madam Pince in the library. You could've summoned me to your office at any time and put me out of my misery, and you didn't!"

Severus raised one eyebrow at her, smirking just a little bit.

"You'd have liked that, wouldn't you, Granger?" he asked, loathing that, up close, he could smell the sweet vanilla scent of her hair and found his fingers itching to bury in her wild curls.

She narrowed her eyes on him, apparently not in the mood to be taunted over whether she wanted to fuck him again or not.

"I'd have liked to be put out of my misery," she said.

"Wouldn't we all?" he replied quietly, watching as some of the fire drained out of her until she let her hands fall back to rest limply as her sides, standing close enough to touch him, but not daring.

"I'm not morphing into some Dark witch who can't tell right from wrong?" she asked softly after a pregnant pause.

"Who can say?" he asked. "That you are concerned about it suggests that you can still distinguish right and wrong, but also suggests that you feel seduced by the wrong, just the same. Morally sound people tend not to question if they're being seduced by the Dark."

"Are you calling me morally corrupt?" She frowned.

Severus didn't answer. Instead he slowly reached a hand toward her, watching her quiver with anticipation until he touched her. When he pressed his hand to the middle of her chest, palm flat, she stepped closer and Severus dug his magic against hers. She gasped at the sensation, but Severus pressed forward, digging into her magic in the same manner he could dig into her mind, seeking answers. Like a fabric he was examining for pulled threads or holes, he scanned over the very magic within her that made her Hermione Granger, witch.

She closed her eyes, tipping her head back and mewling softly at the sweet sensation that almost bordered on pain as he examined every inch of her magical core. Unlike what had happened when they'd fused their magic, or what occurred when he brushed his magic along the length of hers, this felt much more intrusive but no less pleasurable. Severus ignored his rapidly swelling cock, digging at her harder, searching for the sparkles of darkness that infected his own core.

By the time he pulled back she was standing between his knees and she had her hands tangled in his dark hair. She was breathing heavily, and her face was alight with lust despite her tightly closed eyes.

"What did you just do?" She whispered, scraping her nails against his scalp in a way that almost made Severus want to purr like a contented housecat.

"Examined the fabric of your magic for Darkness," he said huskily, his hand on the middle of her chest sliding over her ribs as he reached the other to grip her hip, not at all thinking clearly as he pulled her down into his lap.

She straddled him readily, one of the few unafraid to touch him when so many were.

"And?" She asked, awaiting his findings.

"You are not infected with the Darkness, yet," Severus murmured, nuzzling his nose along her jaw before leaning in to kiss her neck.

"Yet? You think I will be?" She asked, tipping her head to give him better access.

"If I have anything to say about it," Severus whispered before latching onto her neck and suckling her delectable flesh as she ground herself against him.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Hermione moaned, pressing further into his arms and rubbing herself needily on him. She could feel that he wanted it as much as she did, and she found her hands trailing to the front of his robes, her fingers toying with the buttons.

"If you undo any more of those, you'll miss the train home, Miss Granger," he said when she'd unbuttoned the first ten of the many buttons that adorned his robes, barely managing to do more than expose his collarbones, which she lavished with nips and soft, tantalizing kisses.

"Might be worth it," Hermione muttered, enjoying the way he tipped his head when she latched onto the sweet spot below his ear.

"Perhaps," he agreed, his voice husky. "At least until we had to explain to Albus and Minerva just what you were doing, instead."

Hermione nipped him again, rolling her hips and enjoying the way his hands tightened on her hips.

She didn't want to go. She loved her parents and wanted to see them, but the sensations pulsing through her made her think she'd be better off staying at Hogwarts where she could shag her Potions professor senseless all Christmas, instead.

A chime of the school bells sounded in the distance, warning students to make their way to Hogsmeade if they wished to take the train home and Hermione sighed, leaning into Snape and resting her forehead against the top of his shoulder.

"Off you go," he said quietly, his hands trailing to her bottom and giving a surprisingly gentle squeeze. "Before Potter or my colleagues come looking for you."

Hermione nodded, pulling back and climbing out of his lap reluctantly. When she was on her feet, Snape rose too, towering over her and wrapping himself in his teacherly persona once more. A flick of his wand righted the buttons she'd opened, and Hermione sighed softly when she met his unfathomable gaze, disappointment obvious in her eyes.

"Are you coming to Molly's Christmas lunch for the Order?" she asked as she trailed back around his desk, needing to be on her way.

"No," he scoffed.

Hermione laughed just a little, unsurprised. He was hardly made to feel welcome with the Order most of the time. Well, ever, she supposed. The rest of the Order hardly liked him, and she got the feeling that not many of his colleagues liked him, either.

"What will you do for Christmas, then?" She asked. "Do you have plans? You can't spend the holidays alone…"

His mouth twisted like he didn't know if he wanted to smile or sneer.

"I assure you I can, Miss Granger. I have before. Many times," he said. "However, this holiday will not be spent moping in my quarters. The Dark Lord is extremely fond of the Yuletide season and likes to ensure that we misfits all have somewhere to go."

"You don't look pleased about it."

He chuckled darkly. "A Death Eater Christmas is something I wouldn't wish upon anyone, Miss Granger. But there will, undoubtedly, be many a victim whose holiday will be ruined forevermore. At least if they survive. Most don't."

He shrugged.

"You could spend it with us sane people, instead?" She suggested softly, her heart clenching for him that his position as the Order's spy meant he would probably be forced into the company of sociopaths and psychopaths, and might have to witness or participate in the torture of innocents.

He simply shook his head, dismissing her suggestion for the folly it undoubtedly was. For Severus Snape, being forced into the company of cheerful and suspicious people like Harry and the Weasleys would likely be just as unbearable, if not even more wretched, than being in the company of Lord Voldemort and his minions. He nodded at the door when Hermione did her level best to conceal her disappointment that he wasn't even going to consider the company of people she happened to adore, silently telling her to be on her way as the second chime of the bells indicated that stragglers better hurry.

"Maybe I'll see you?" she asked when she reached the door, looking back even as she turned the door handle.

"For your sake, Miss Granger, I sincerely hope not," he said quietly, eyeing her like she was something complex he didn't quite understand just yet.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said softly, smiling in farewell and knowing better than to make an arse of herself by suggesting anything further or complicating something that shouldn't be happening at all. He didn't return the sentiment, but he nodded a second time before she hurried out the door, needing to run if she was going to make the train on time.

She raced up out of the dungeons and was just crossing the Entrance Hall when she barrelled right into someone standing in the middle of the room.

"Ooomph!" The person - a boy, by the feel of him - grunted.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione blurted, trying to right herself. "I'm going to miss the train if I don't hurry and I didn't even see you standing there. Are you alright? "

"Good luck hurrying out from under this cursed mistletoe without my help, Granger," the infuriatingly familiar drawl of Draco Malfoy filled her ears just as she tried to hurry around the boy she'd barrelled into, only to find her feet stuck to the floor.

"Malfoy?" She asked, hissing as she twisted to look up above their heads where a particularly aggressive looking sprig of mistletoe had sprouted. "Oh, for Merlin's sake! Really?"

"Really," Malfoy drawled. "I've been stuck here for almost ten minutes. Everyone else is gone."

Hermione eyed him in trepidation, not at all liking what she suspected was about to happen.

"You realise we'll both miss the train if we don't deactivate the charm, right?" she sighed.

"I'm aware," he nodded.

"My friends would have kittens if they saw this," she muttered.

"Mine would commit murder," he replied.

"No one ever finds out, then?" She asked briskly.

He nodded sharply, eyeing her and obviously waiting for her to make the first move. The reluctance and disgust on his face was obvious and Hermione didn't doubt that her expression mirrored his at the very thought of having to kiss him to be free of the wretched little plant. Huffing, Hermione fisted the front of his robes boldly, pulling him down as she stretched up on her toes until she could reach his lips. He resisted, obviously not thrilled at the idea of snogging a mudblood and displeased by the rough treatment she was giving his shirt. He'd probably consider it to be soiled beyond saving when she let him go. Hermione pressed her lips to his quickly, brushing her closed lips against his, hoping the charm would break and set them free. When she pulled back a moment later, they were still stuck, and Malfoy wiped at his mouth in disgust before glaring at the mistletoe hatefully.

"Pretty sure it's going to require proper snogging if we want to be set loose. Which, I do. If I miss the train, Harry and Ron will assume I've been murdered," Hermione grumbled.

"Hang around in my vicinity long enough, and you might be," Draco said quietly, though he looked more like he was trying to warn her away, rather than like he was attempting to threaten her. She frowned at him, opening her mouth intent on saying something to him but before she could utter another sound, he struck.

She squeaked in surprise when he nodded again before his hands closed over her shoulders, jerking her close as his lips crashed down on hers. He snogged her hard, his tongue sweeping between her parted lips, bringing the taste of tea and Calming Draught with it. She kissed him back as well as she could manage amid her surprise and her disgust, frowning when there was no scatter of mistletoe over her immediately. He nipped her bottom lip before exploring her mouth more fully and Hermione kept her eyes tightly closed, kissing him back and hating that her mind flashed with longing that Snape would snog her like Malfoy currently was.

When, finally, the enchantment broke, a rain of leaves and berries scattered over the pair of them, and they broke apart both panting and both wiping at their mouths as though burned by the taste of one another.

"What is the meaning of this?" A familiar cold voice asked, and Hermione's eyes widened in horror while Malfoy closed his, looking like he feared his death was imminent.

Turning to Severus, recognising his voice without even needing to look, Hermione stammered at him, her cheeks turning scarlet.

"Mistletoe," she said, picking a few scattered twigs from her hair and holding them out as though they might offer some defence.

His dark eyes flicked to the twigs and berries that must surely still be stuck in her nest of curls, before resting on her face once more. His face was devoid of any expression. Yet, for some reason Hermione had the strangest feelings that he was angry, or perhaps even hurt, that she'd snogged Malfoy for her freedom.

"How convenient for you both," he hissed quietly. "Get out of my sight before you miss the train. And don't be stopping along the way to tongue-bath each other."

Hermione gagged just a little, but she didn't dare argue, reminded that she needed to run if she was going to make it to the train before it pulled out of the station.

"Oh, bugger," she said, spinning on her heels and racing for the door.

The steps were slippery, and she almost lost her balance when she skidded on them, landing awkwardly on her ankle but running hard for the road down to the village where the bright red Hogwarts Express was whistling and preparing to depart. She ran full pelt, her hair streaming, the chilly and snow-filled air making it hard to breath and hard to see. The path was treacherous, but Hermione ran, just the same.

When she skidded through the gates, the enchantments that protected the castle washed over her and she shook herself, wondering why she'd never felt them before. The train was still whistling and she could hear the sound of footfalls pounding along in her wake. Twisting her head, she darted a glance over her shoulder, spying Malfoy running behind her, obviously intent on making it to the train on time, too.

She didn't spy the hooded figure in the dark cloak that suddenly stepped from behind one of the pillars of Hogsmeade Station and right into her path until it was too late. Barrelling right into someone, Hermione screamed in surprise even as unforgiving arms clamped around her slim frame and a terrible twist behind her navel dragged her through space and time as she was apparated away.