Disclaimer: I obviously don't own anything Harry Potter related, and I'm not making any money off the writing of this. It's all for my own perverted amusement! :)

Thank you to my two amazing betas, Lorcalon, and VIVAvivacious - You both are amazing!

"I want an explanation for this outrageous behavior!" McGonagall demanded, leaning over her desk and looking at the two girls. She had confiscated Ginny's wand before allowing her into the office, but allowed Hermione to keep hers as it had not been drawn. Hermione chanced a glance at Ginny from the corner of her eye, only to see the younger girl staring straight ahead, anger still etched on her face. "Miss Weasley, I am speaking to you."

"I was correcting a wrong, Professor." Ginny's voice was cold, and she shot a harsh glare at Hermione. McGonagall sputtered for a moment before turning to Hermione.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione felt the various stares on her as she looked at the floor, though Snape's from the back of the room wore on her the most. She still was unable to understand why he was here. Letting out a sigh, she looked up to meet her Head of House's gaze.

"Ginny is under the impression that I have been leading her brother on romantically," she stated calmly. McGonagall sat behind her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh.

"Miss Weasley, you attacked Miss Granger over this?" Ginny nodded stiffly, her lips pursed into a thin line. "Well, I'm sure this was simply a misunderstanding, but you will st-" "If I might, Minerva?" Snape moved from his place near the door to stand directly between Hermione and Ginny where they were before McGonagall's desk. "Miss Weasley's actions went beyond a mere mis-communication."

"What do you mean, Severus?" McGonagall cast suspicious glances at both girls before returning to Snape.

"Miss Granger explained that she is not involved with Mr. Weasley- or anyone, for that matter- prior to Miss Weasley threatening to hex her."

McGonagall turned towards Ginny and frowned. "Is this true?"

"Yes, but-" Ginny ground out, only to be interrupted by McGonagall continuing.

"You were going to attack a fellow student after being told you were-"

"She's lying!" Ginny shouted. A stunned silence fell for a moment before she continued in a calmer voice. "She spent the entire day in the dungeons. She must-"

"Miss Granger was brewing potions with Professor Snape for the Infirmary since seven thirty this morning," McGonagall said flatly. Ginny's eyes widened, all anger wiped from her face in favor of her surprise. She looked dumbly from Snape's blank expression to that of Hermione, gaping at the two of them.

"We... I... had no idea," she muttered, looking down at her feet.

McGonagall let out another sigh and looked to Hermione again. "Miss Granger, would you prefer to simply forgive and forget this incident?"

Hermione kept her expression impassive as she mulled the question over. Ginny had nearly hexed her, and almost certainly would have if they had gone unnoticed any longer. On one hand, it had been because she hadn't shared with her friends what was going on, and a small voice in her mind suggested that she was partially to blame. But the logical part of her couldn't agree. She had told Ginny that she was mistaken, and the girl was still willing to harm her. Even if she had told Harry and Ron what was going on, this confrontation was likely to have come about at one time or another.

"No, Professor, I wouldn't." McGonagall seemed surprised, and Ginny's soft gasp said she felt the same. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw approval in Snape's gaze, and thrilled at the thought.

"Very well, Miss Granger. You're dismissed."

"'Mione?" Ginny's voice was quiet, and Hermione paused at the door, keeping her back straight in determination. She had considered Ginny as trustworthy a friend as any, but that feeling was gone the second she had refused to listen to her in the hallway.

"There is another syllable at the beginning of my name, Ginevra. Please see you use it from now on," she spat, stepping from the room and taking comfort in the loud slam of the door.

/-/SSHG/-/

Rather than heading to the common room, Hermione retreated to the library with her bag slung over her shoulder, intending to find a small, deserted corner near a window. Since it was a Hogsmeade weekend, no one above second year was in the library, and it was easy enough to find the perfect table, right beside the Restricted Section. Pulling her workbook from her bag and ensuring that it was still covered with the cover of her Arithmancy text, she leaned back comfortably in her chair and focused on the first exercise again. By the time she calmed down enough to attempt a response, though, she had read and re-read it several times. Absorbed as she was with the words in front of her, she failed to notice Snape pass by twice, the second time with a Potions book in hand.

Hermione laid the workbook flat on the table in front of her finally, using her self-inking quill to begin scratching an answer onto the provided space of the page. She turned the prompt over slowly in her mind as she wrote, trying and failing to find an appropriate way to word her thoughts. As she scratched off yet another attempt to respond, a pair of talons dug painfully into her shoulder and her head snapped up. Snape's owl was watching her curiously, holding out her leg to allow Hermione to remove the small note attached. 'This is becoming a routine,' she thought to herself, opening the parchment.

Miss Granger

I would recommend using a more effective sticking charm if you wish to disguise your contraband as a school workbook. Unfriendly eyes may take notice your current charm appears to be slipping.

Pausing, Hermione looked down at her workbook and realized the Arithmancy cover had indeed slipped down an inch or so. She quickly adjusted it before returning to the note as the owl nipped at her hand. Apparently Snape was expecting an answer to this one, for some reason.

Perhaps your 'Arithmancy' studies would best be restrained to the privacy of your room, Miss Granger? Or, at the very least, a more secluded area than the library, as I doubt any of your fellow students would be receptive to such a subject.

However, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not offer my assistance should you require it.

My door is open if you have any questions.

S.S.

Hermione stared at the last bit with wide eyes, wondering at his meaning. 'Remiss in his duties' as a teacher? Certainly not. But perhaps as a Dominant, he was obligated to offer his help? A frown turned down the corners of her mouth as she thought back to the first book she had read in the Room of Requirement. Nowhere had she seen any mention of such a thing, or anything to suggest that was the case. All of her reading so far had made it clear that there were no obligations between Dominants and submissives that were not entirely voluntary. Which left her with only one other explanation for his offer- Snape wanted to help her.

/-/SSHG/-/

Severus Snape turned another page of his Potions text, refusing to glance at the clock for the tenth time since sending Bryna with his note. Once the owl had swept from the room, he had questioned the decision to make such a bold move so quickly. But he resigned himself to the consequences of his action soon enough, knowing there was no changing it now. Still, Bryna had been gone for more than half an hour, and his impatience was getting the better of him. He had just slammed his book shut, intending to pace the floor to calm his nerves when his owl swooped into the room, dropping a small roll of parchment on his desk on her way to her cage.

For a moment, he stared at the innocent looking reply, unable to reach for it or look away. She had replied, which was more than he had really expected; but how had she responded? Taking a slow, measured breath, he extended his arm to grasp the note gingerly, as if afraid too rough a touch would make it disappear. He unfurled it slowly, forcing himself to remain calm despite his strange nervousness. As his eyes scanned across the lines of her delicate scrawl, though, the corner of his mouth curved up in a genuine smile.

Thank you for your kind offer, Professor.

Is 'Professor' the correct address in a situation such as this? Or would 'Sir' be better suited? I'm rather unsure which would be most appropriate.

There is quite a bit I would like to ask, but my thoughts and feelings on this subject are muddled. Even trying to tackle a simple exercise of my workbook- explaining what attracts me to this world, and why- seems impossible. I do not know how to proceed, to be truthful. Would you happen to have any advice in that regard?

H.G.

He could feel the nervous energy of her words, as if she was uncertain of herself as she wrote. Remembering her flustered reactions to him throughout the day, a smirk replaced his previous smile. She wanted his assistance, but had no idea of how to handle her situation. Perhaps another bold move was in order, then. Calling Bryna back to him, Severus quickly scratched out a short response and passed it into the beak of the dark bird. "Please deliver this to Miss Granger's room," he said, stroking her feathers lightly. "If she is there, you may give it to her, but otherwise, I'd like it left somewhere that she will see it."

She bobbed her head in something akin to a nod before taking off, leaving Severus alone in his office. Steepling his fingers in front of him, he looked into the fireplace across from his desk, his smirk still in place. "Let's see how serious you are, Miss Granger."