MALFOY MANOR - A few days later

Snape fumed. Something he was rather good at. He had been beastly to the girl but he'd had a right to, had he not? Here he was quite content to live his life in peaceful anonymity, and then she barges in with the belief she had the right to pry into his life, and to question why he was not out in the world decrying the vituperation of his spiteful detractors.

In the parlour Severus slouched down more into his chair after taking a good measure of his brandy. Lucius had removed the fire whiskey (its alcoholic properties as opposed to Muggle alcohol was incendiary, to say the least), and so the dark wizard was now reduced to the weaker effects of the brandy. Basically, it took a lot more to settle himself into a right pissed mode, and before that happened Lucius' clever magic intervened, and Severus' liquor usage was cut-off. Consequently, he not only had to face his thoughts more, but his nightmares had been returning; nightmares he could not chase away with Dreamless Sleep due to its extremely addictive properties.

So, nightmares and Miss Granger. Severus was now caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. The nightmares he could do little about, but perhaps he could do something about that twitchy witch. He was unaware of the slight curl of his lip as his thoughts pleasantly settled upon the young woman's curvier assets.

Hermione glared at the small refrigerator that sat in the corner of her living room that served as her "kitchen". On top of the refrigerator were her dishes - a plate, knife, fork, spoon, and a jelly cup. Sitting on a short cabinet was a hot plate for the few meals she did heat up. Opening the refrigerator door her frown deepened. She had hoped for the ingredients of a salad but there was nothing but a rather ragged looking piece of lettuce. In the tiny freezer was her only other meal alternative which was a pint of cookie dough ice cream.

Hermione switched her glance to her hips, and smacked her hand against her left hip. She knew her nutrition was abhorrent. She also knew she had a terrible sweet tooth, and would eat waffles with syrup over a chicken salad. It was her dip in funds that made sure her curves had not fallen into obesity.

This poor diet, and lack of a proper kitchen was one reason she wound up at Harry's home 4 to 5 nights a week. Of course, Harry was a terrible shopper, and he had a diet that was as bad as hers. More than once Hermione told Harry he needed a wife to keep him healthy. Harry had jokingly countered that she needed a husband to restore her to healthy habits.

Of course, the last time she had visited and told Harry he needed a wife, he had glared at her, and refused to talk to her throughout their whole meal. Hermione later learned that the "Stalker Weasley" no longer was stalking Harry. She was now firmly ensconced with the Holyhead Harpies, and she now had quite a number of fans, and no longer was bothered with thought of Harry. As for Harry, he almost seemed to miss the twisted attention!

Slamming the door of the useless refrigerator shut Hermione walked over to the clothes tree where her one of her few luxuries hung; a beautiful cotton-wool blend cloak in dark blue. It had also come with gloves, a scarf, and a hat for Winter.

It was then she was deterred by a knock at her door. Expecting her landlady Hermione strode to the door, opened it quickly,...

"Would you like to go to dinner?"