Ok I promised to update soon, so here you go. Thank you guys soooo much for all the reviews and support! You are the reason I write! I hope you enjoy this chapter and if you do, Please Review!
…~*~*J*~*~…
"So what brings you here, Severus? I am certain it is not my pleasant company you seek." Lucius leaned back in his regal armchair and took a sip of brandy. A fire was beating waves of heat toward them from the giant hearth and all manner of ward and secrecy had long been established.
"That's for a certainty, my friend," Severus replied. "You have less cheer than a dementor at present."
The blond man sighed. "And for good reason. I've scarcely spoken with Narcissa for weeks. It is beginning to seem less and less likely that she will ever come to terms with our new situation."
"Well, it is only temporary after all." There was a long, heavy pause in which neither man mentioned the uncertainty of that statement. After all, if the dark lord won the war, their circumstances could very well be permanent. But then, that was exactly the train of thought that Severus was trying to push on his old friend.
"You haven't come to talk about Narcissa; of that I'm sure. Speak your mind Severus, or I'll grow impatient with you." Lucius most certainly was not himself to be so rude. His eyes were bloodshot and there were bags beneath them. Apparently the glory of having the dark lord as a personal guest had evaporated rather quickly, leaving only fear and anxiety in its wake.
"Actually I wanted to ask you about Draco," the professor said. "He's been acting rather strangely of late and I wondered if perhaps you had noticed anything peculiar."
From Lucius's frown of concern and confusion, Severus surmised that the other man had not noticed anything out of the ordinary. "I haven't heard much from him at all if truth be told."
"Hmmm." Severus took a sip of brandy. "Do you usually hear from him with some frequency?"
Lucius nodded absentmindedly. "He enjoys regaling me with tales of his enemies' misfortunes and his own excellent academic successes."
Severus suppressed a smirk. That sounded about right. "He has seemed rather sullen. And I can't imagine what could be the cause."
"I have no idea," Lucius admitted in a weary voice. It seems we all have too much to worry about these days." He looked over at his dark-haired friend. "What about you, Severus? Those worry lines aren't all for my son, are they?"
Severus allowed himself a deep sigh and turned toward the other man. "It is as you say, Lucius. We all have our worries."
"Come now, Severus. We are friends, here. Must you continue with your vague political responses?"
The sullen professor had to smirk a bit at that. Lucius always had known him better than anyone else. "I'm sure you can't imagine."
"It's the girl." The guess was offered without any hesitance and it took Severus momentarily off guard. He nodded and Lucius laughed. "Of course it is. And what, pray tell, has happened to you this time? A lovers' quarrel is it?"
Severus tensed at the implications of his words. "I would hardly call us 'lovers.'"
"Oh, save your caution for your enemies, Severus. We both know she isn't just your slave. And I imagine that it isn't something she's done wrong that has you so upset. In fact, I'd wager that it is you who has somehow angered your partner and therefore learned the fire of a woman's wrath. Tsk tsk, Severus, I have twenty years on you in this game. You cannot fool me."
Severus slumped with a sigh of resignation. "I just… with Albus or… anyone else… I know exactly what will anger them. But… women require a completely different strategy and I haven't learned it yet."
"Oh there you go comparing life to chess again. Just tell me what you did and be done with it."
The dark wizard looked up at his friend guiltily. "Well…" he wasn't sure where to start. "I made the mistake of not confiding in Hermione when a certain student of mine made sexual advances toward me. But in my defense, I honestly thought nothing of the girl's poor attempt at seduction. It wasn't as if I had any interest in her."
"Tsk tsk," Lucius began. "Women are jealous creatures, Severus. Especially when they are insecure. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel certain that you have not given her any solid reason to have faith in your loyalty to her." He had a point and Severus cringed at the truth of it. Honestly, he didn't know what they really were or where the boundaries and lines and labels were. It was near impossible to navigate the harsh terrain without a map of some sort. "But I am hearing something even more interesting behind the words you say and that is that a female student of yours offered you sexual favors and you turned her down. Well, that is quite fascinating, as you have no marriage bonds keeping you faithful to the Granger girl. Do you have a practiced excuse for that as well?"
Severus scowled at his old friend. "She is my student. And most certainly not my type."
"Ah, and what is your type, Severus? Bushy-haired Gryffindors with a passion for books? That does seem to be the trend."
"Alright, Lucius, I have already admitted to caring for the girl. And I've confided our latest bit of drama with you. Must you harass me further? My sole concern at present is putting the whole mess to rights."
"Well," the aristocrat began, thoughtfully, "take it from a man who is completely incapable of giving his angry wife what she demands; if you have it in your power to make her happy again, even if that means a blow to your pride, she will be worth it in the end."
The Saturday sun was obscured by the foreboding storm clouds that encroached upon the castle like uninvited guests, beckoned by All Hallows' Eve. Hermione watched the blackening sky with a wary eye, wondering if it was an omen or just an eerie coincidence. The castle was abuzz with excitement, but here in Hermione's dormitory there was only heavy silence.
The door opened and a moment later Ginny Weasley stood beside her, staring out at the ominous storm. "Merlin," she murmured in good humor, "even the sky is dressed up this year."
Hermione's lip quirked up as a bit of her worry was siphoned away by Ginny's happy mood. This Halloween was an even grander occasion than it had been any other year, because this year Professor Slughorn was hosting a masquerade. It was the talk of the school, though only a select group of older students had been invited. Yet the excitement of the party was contagious and the entire castle was suddenly full of various colorful costumes. Already a group of older Slytherins had lost 50 points for terrifying a Hufflepuff first year, someone had jinxed Neville Longbottom's mask to stick indefinitely to his face, Peeves had somehow managed to dye Filch's face green which made him look eerily reminiscent of a witch from a muggle children's tale, and there were still hours of daylight before the festivities even officially began.
"Is your costume finished?" Ginny asked the other girl.
Hermione nodded. "I'm still not sure I'll have the nerve to wear it, though."
"Oh, come on!" teased the pretty redhead. "Compared to mine, yours is practically modest."
Hermione grinned mischievously at her friend. "Unless there's a light behind me." The Grecian gown Hermione had designed for her impersonation of Nike seemed opaque to the casual observer. But anyone who took a second glance at its unassuming folds would see that the outline of her body was entirely visible beneath the thin layer of cream was secretly hoping that a certain angry professor might take notice.
Ginny's costume was a ballerina's rendition of a phoenix, complete with tutu and corseted bodice. Lengths of red satin hung beneath her arms, attaching at the wrist, and her mask was an extravagant bird of crimson and gold (a blatant display of Gryffindor pride). And anywhere the girl could show a patch of skin, she did so shamelessly. After all, Halloween was an opportunity to break dress code and flaunt one's assets for the world to see.
Or so Ginny Weasley seemed to believe, and she was not alone. Parvati and Lavender had also designed rather scandalous costumes and Hermione was afraid to even imagine how Pansy Parkinson might be dressed. Beside them, she would blend into the wall and no one would notice that beneath the modest gown she wore nothing else at all. No one, that is, except Severus Snape. At least… that was her plan.
Severus stared down at his musty, old costume. It had been years since the castle had a proper Halloween party, and Severus had once enjoyed the occasion. Once a year he was able to disguise his true identity and enjoy the festivities as any other man. He had taken delight in shaming the other dancers only to reveal at the end of the night that it was the dreaded Potions Master who commanded the dance floor with such grace. The sight of their horrified faces never ceased to amuse him and that thought alone could sustain him for months afterward.
But this year would be different. She would be there, and Severus was busy contemplating what sorts of tricks he could play on the girl before she realized who he was. A wicked grin spread across his face as he freshened the old costume with a few quick spells and made some adjustments to the design. There were rumors that a vampire had been invited to the masque, but Severus knew the man would not dress as the young dunderheads expected him to. It would be the perfect disguise.
The entire faculty had been extended invitations to the grand affair, but a portion of them planned to attend the feast in the Great Hall in support of the large number of students who would not be able to join their friends at Horace's party. Albus himself was to remain, and though Severus was sure a number of them planned to come afterwards, the Headmaster likely would not join them. All the better. The old man would probably only ruin his fun.
Hermione stared at herself in the mirror for a long time. Was it too obviously transparent? Should she make the fabric thicker? She studied the subtle lines of her body beneath the gown and reminded herself that the Halloween party was likely to have dimmer lighting than her bathroom. But it still seemed so daring to step out into the castle so scandalously dressed. No one else will notice, she reminded herself. But it was hard to believe at the present moment.
Ginny popped her head in for a peek and whistled approvingly. "Merlin, Hermione! You look fantastic!"
Hermione spun around to face her. "Is it too obvious?" She knew the worry was written plainly across her face and Ginny smiled reassuringly at her.
"You worry too much. It's very subtle," she assured her. "If it were any less obvious, Snape himself wouldn't be able to tell."
"You think?"
Ginny nodded. "You need a mask, though. It's a masquerade."
"Of course!" Hermione had almost forgotten. Nike had wings, but she didn't want to look so much like an angel, so she had decided to put wings on the mask instead. The elegant white mask curved over her nose and the impression of feathers reached away from the center, framing her eyes.
"Perfect," Ginny murmured, excitement edging into her voice.
"Can you help me do my hair?" Hermione asked.
The other girl shook her head. "Leave it as it is," she said. "You look like a goddess."
Hermione beamed at the pretty redhead in the reflection. "That was my intent."
As the two girls made their way down the stairs to the Common Room, the three waiting boys stood up to greet them with expressions of awe upon their faces. Ginny ran immediately to Harry who kissed her and appraised her with a mouthful of compliments while Neville looked on and blushed awkwardly. Ron, however, had eyes only for her, and Hermione suddenly felt exposed before him as his eyes swept down her figure.
"Wow, Hermione," he said, "you look amazing!"
"Thanks, Ron," she replied, fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands. It's only for a little while.
Luna met them a corridor away from the party to join up with Harry as his date. She was dressed in some poofy ensemble with striped stockings of purple and red and a twisted curving unicorn-style horn atop her head.
"Er… what are you dressed as, Luna?" Harry asked.
"A Crumple-horned Snorkack of course," she replied. "I've never seen one personally, but I know enough about them from my father. He's seen one himself, you know."
"Has he?" Harry replied dully. "Well you look… er… lovely."
"Thank you, Harry," Luna said dreamily. "That's very nice of you to say."
There was a line of students pushing their way through the door to get into the masquerade, and when it was their turn to enter, Ron put a hand on the small of Hermione's back. It made her skin itch and she pulled away from him the moment they had passed through the door. A quick scan of the room told her that Severus was not yet there. Only then did she allow herself to take in the surroundings and appreciate the extravagance of the affair.
Horace Slughorn was a man of luxurious tastes, to be sure. Ribbons, curtains, and lengths of flimsy fabric draped from the ceiling at random to give the air a bit of mystery. Tables covered in dark red cloth lined the walls and dotted the outskirts of the dance floor, and each was lit with candlelight that flickered through the eerie visages of skulls and Jack-o-lanterns. More candles hung throughout the room, suspended in midair. They were no different than the candles hanging in the Great Hall, but in this dim atmosphere they reminded Hermione of another time in another place where a thousand glowing candles surrounded her on all sides, reflected in the blinking surfaces of a hundred mirrors. And her heart began to pound irrationally at the memory.
But there was no stone altar in the middle of the dance floor and the gentle waltz of the couples clinging to one another was a striking contrast to the couplings of the Death Eaters and their victims. She took a steadying breath and felt some of her anxiety melt away. Then she turned her body to face the door so that she would see Severus the moment he arrived.
Ron was looking at her sheepishly. "Hermione," he began in a soft voice, "I know we've been a little on the outs lately, but you know it's only because I care about you." Oh gods. What do I say to that? "It's just… it's not supposed to be you and Snape. It's supposed to be you and me and Harry. Like old times."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione began, but she was interrupted by a very excited Ginny Weasley.
"Did you see Parkinson's costume?" she whispered happily. "It's ghastly!" Hermione looked up in time to see the girl in question strutting through the room on the arm of some stupid-looking Slytherin and wearing some sort of slutty pink and black lingerie with cat ears and a tail.
Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Pathetic."
Suddenly Parvati and Lavender were there beside them and Lavender leaned over to join in the Pansy-bashing. "Have you heard about her and Snape? Apparently she went to him for help with an assignment and he offered her a whole lot more…" She winked hideously at them and Hermione felt her temper rising.
"That's not true, really," came Luna's voice from out of nowhere, and she was suddenly standing right between Ron and Hermione. "You've got it switched around is all." The entire group was staring down at Luna in incredulous confusion.
"What?" Lavender bit out in a mocking tone.
"It's true," the little blonde told the other girl. "Pansy asked Professor Snape, really. Only he wasn't interested. He doesn't love her, you see." In that moment, Hermione could have kissed the pretty Ravenclaw. She didn't know how Luna had come by that information (if she hadn't just known it somehow), but her timing was impeccable.
"Are you kidding me?!" Lavender hissed. She and Parvati exchanged a wicked smirk and then Lavender began to laugh. "Oh that is so much better! Come on, we have got to tell Padma!" Yes. Go. Spread the news. I knew those giggling gossips had to be good for something.
Their little group dispersed as the other Gryffindor girls ran off to share the story with anyone who would listen, Harry went off to get Ginny some punch, and Neville asked Luna to dance. Hermione had a horrible feeling that Ron was about to ask her to as well and began searching desperately for some excuse.
"Hey look," Ginny murmured excitedly, pointing toward the entrance. "A vampire. Do you suppose that's the real vampire or a fake one?"
Hermione glanced at the door. The man in question was a handsomely dressed Victorian gentleman all in black with silver detailing. A black velvet cloak covered his forehead and cast shadows across his face as its deep, heavy folds swept the floor. His half-mask was pale off-white and ornate as far as she could tell through the shadows of his hood. And below it his lips were parted in an evil grin, revealing razor fangs an inch longer than incisors.
Hermione smiled. His posture, his movement, the angles of his body, the elegant grace with which he commanded attention, even the way his tight buttoned sleeves flared slightly at the wrist to cover part of his hand told Hermione who he truly was. "No, Ginny," she smirked, "he's not a vampire."
Severus's eyes swept the dim room. His vision was impaired by the itching, irritating mask, but he knew he would not be able to remove it for a long time. Already sweat was coating the surface of his skin wherever the damned thing touched, but he was determined to ignore it. Where is she? It took him a moment, but he finally found Hermione standing beside a bright red be-feathered Weasley girl. Her simple white mask did not hide her identity and that wild mane of curls was a veritable beacon to anyone looking for the little know-it-all, as Severus was.
She was watching him, smiling, he thought, in a rather seductive way. But if she did not know who he was, was she then attempting to enchant a complete stranger? No. She would not sink so low. They had not yet had a chance to make peace with one another, and for all Severus knew she could be plotting against him. But that was a worry for another time. At the moment, he could only stare transfixed at the beautiful woman watching him from across the room.
Her soft, full lips were tilted in a devious smile and her hair was down and wild. The pale, soft folds of her gown were an elegant contrast to the cheap, tacky displays the other girls had put together. And a candle somewhere behind her gave her hair the ethereal illusion of a halo.
She looked like the angel from his dreams.
And she was suddenly walking towards him. Severus's breath caught in his chest and he glanced nervously around to notice several other pairs of eyes watching him. Apparently his arrival had not gone unnoted, but he could see from their curious expressions that they did not recognize him.
His gaze returned to her approaching form and he was startled to see the light of several candles breaking through the translucent material of her gown. The curves of her body were outlined by light like a goddess stepping out of the heavens. She might as well have been naked. But before Severus's body could react to that thought, he stepped toward her, meeting her in the middle with an outstretched hand; a gesture of invitation onto the dance floor which she readily accepted. Does she know me?
Another waltz began to play, to his relief. If anyone other than Horace Slughorn had planned this grand affair, the music would have been an entirely different sort. As it was, he soon had Hermione spinning and gliding with him across the floor like a vision from a dream. And though it was immediately obvious that she had never danced a day in her life, he knew how to lead and she knew how to learn. He smirked when he saw that many of the onlookers were exclusively watching them, but Hermione's eyes never left his face (except a time or two to check her clumsy feet).
There was no longer a doubt in his mind that she knew who he was. But that was amazing to him. Albus himself had had a hard time recognizing him the first time he'd worn this disguise. But Hermione Granger had spotted him immediately and come to him without a moment's hesitation. Gods how he wanted to kiss her.
When the song ended, he offered her his arm and led her from the floor.
It felt marvelous to be beside him for all the world to see. Hermione practically clung to Severus's arm as they headed toward the punchbowl at the far end of the room. She was surprised to see the level of interest their dance had drawn, as several people were blatantly staring at them. Lavender and Parvati looked jealous, Harry and Ron were clearly confused, but Ginny winked knowingly at her and Malfoy seemed alarmed.
Severus said not a word as he poured a cup of punch for her and Hermione merely stared into his masked face with a secret smile meant only for him. Even if no one knew who he was, it was so liberating to be with him this way. It was almost as if there was nothing shameful about their relationship. And she so wanted to believe that was true.
Hermione glanced around in time to see Ginny whispering in her brother's ear as a look of comprehension dawned behind his plastic mask and Lavender Brown suddenly appeared at his side. She leaned over to him, drawing his attention, and as they stood and headed toward the dance floor, Lavender sent Hermione a triumphant look. Does she honestly think that will upset me? And then Severus was leading her away with a gentle hand on her elbow.
He led her toward the outer wall where long black curtains hung at regular intervals all along its length, concealing shallow alcoves with floor-length windows that would have let in too much moonlight. Once they were ensconced within one of these narrow nooks—and there was no doubt half the room had seen them slip into it—Severus withdrew his wand and cast a Muffliato. "Hermione," he murmured softly, "you little temptress, are you punishing me?"
She laughed softly. "Would I be so cruel as that?"
His hand came up to cup her face and Hermione sighed desperately at his touch. It had been so long since he had caressed her this way. "I am not the only one who can see through that gown, you know."
Hermione could feel herself blushing. "I know."
"Do you mean to tease them too?" His voice was a growl.
"Am I teasing you?"
"That depends." His lips spread in a mischievous smirk. "While it is certain that you are arousing me, you are only teasing if you do not plan to relieve that arousal as well."
Hermione's eyes grew wide and her lips parted as he stepped toward her, pushing her against the wall and leaning down to capture her mouth as his hands met her waist. He growled a long deep moan as their lips brushed against each other and Hermione whimpered as a hand came up to cup her breast. His tongue begged entrance and Hermione obliged him, rubbing her own tongue against his as his mouth slanted over hers again and again. Soon, his body was pressed against hers, moving restlessly as they panted against each other's lips.
Hermione's hand slipped down to grasp the prominent bulge between his legs and he groaned in agonized bliss. He broke away from her mouth to kiss her neck and she could feel the sharp tips of his fangs against the tender skin. "Oh, Hermione," he moaned, sliding a hand up her bare thigh and finding nothing beneath her gown. In a heartbeat his hand was between her legs, teasing her with deft fingers until she was whimpering against him.
Hermione pushed him away and slowly slipped down the length of his body until she was on her knees before him. Even behind the mask, she could see hunger in his eyes as he waited, frozen to the spot. She began to undo the buttons of his trousers, but he stopped her with a hand. "No," he told her, "not here." She only blinked up at him in confusion. "I want to make love to you, Hermione." Oh gods. "Will you meet me in my chambers?"
"Yes," she replied in a husky voice. "With pleasure."
"Go ahead, then. I require a moment to compose myself. Besides, my exit will be somewhat more conspicuous and it would be best if you were already long gone." She nodded excitedly up at him and Severus helped her to her feet. She turned to go, but he pulled her back and pressed his lips to hers once more.
"Don't make me wait," she whispered. And with that she stepped through the curtains and made a circuit of the room to lose any lingering eyes and to tell Ginny where she would be.
"Yeah, girl!" Ginny shouted. Someone had spiked the punchbowl and Ginny had clearly taken advantage of that. "Go get that makeup sex!" Luckily the noise in the room had elevated and the dancing had grown wild, so no one so much as noticed the pretty redhead's shout.
As Hermione slipped away, she caught sight of Ron and Lavender making out in a corner and rolled her eyes. Well, one less problem to worry about, she thought. Then she gleefully returned to the task at hand. There were voices farther down the hall. They were so faint, Hermione almost didn't notice them. But the corridor was empty and quiet and the sound of muffled murmurs drifted easily to her ears.
As she passed an archway leading to a balcony, Hermione paused, catching sight of blonde hair glowing in the moonlight. From the look of it, Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood were leaning against the railing, looking out on the castle grounds. Malfoy's mask dangled from his hand and his voice was weary when he spoke. "But, what if you don't know what you want?"
"Most people don't, I think," came Luna's reply, "but when I don't know what to do I put my choices in a hat and pick one."
Malfoy snorted. "You put it down to chance? God does not play with dice."
"No, that's not it. If I don't like the one I pick, I throw it away. Eventually there's only one that's left, you see. And that's the one you wanted all along."
Hermione's heart was hammering in her chest. What was Malfoy so unsure about and why the hell was he listening to Luna Lovegood's advice?
"But say…" Malfoy began again, "say one person wants you to do one thing and another… wants you to do another… well… how do you know which to do?"
"Oh, that's easy," Luna told him. "I just do the one that's right." There was a long pause and then Malfoy turned to look at the girl beside him. Hermione felt suddenly uncomfortable, as if she'd seen too much, and slipped away before either of the pale blondes caught her watching them.
What the bloody hell was that?!
Having calmed the fire in his loins, Severus stepped out of the curtained alcove and straight into madness. Horace's party had quickly gotten away from him and he doubted very much that the old Potions Professor had ever heard most of the music that was playing now. He stifled the urge to cover his ears as he made his way through the boisterous crowd. Not only had the music gotten louder, but the students themselves seemed to have turned up the volume. The result was a cacophony of monstrous proportions.
Trying his best to ignore the ruckus, Severus shoved his way through the excited crowd to the door that led to freedom. Outside, a cool draft fell across his face, heightening his desire to remove the mask. But soon enough he would be able to remove that and much more, he thought. A smirk twisted his lips as he remembered the way Hermione had whimpered against his mouth. He hadn't even had to apologize for her to forgive him. Funny, but that made him want to apologize even more. It made him want to kneel before her and promise her the world.
He closed his eyes as he walked, remembering the way the soft light had framed her body like a golden goddess of myth; the sexy little smile on her face as she made her way toward him. Me. She wanted me. The thought hit him in a strange light. She wanted him; all of him. So, why should he hold back from her? If he was lucky enough to have someone who wanted every bit of him, why shouldn't he give her everything? The thought had him practically walking on air as he approached the door to his bedchamber. But as he raised his wand to open the portrait door a searing pain lashed his left arm and he sucked a breath in pain.
Fuck! Severus flung open the door and ran straight into his bedroom, Summoning his Death Eater mask and cloak as he did. It was then he caught sight of Hermione, stretched across his bed, the translucent layers of her gown falling in seductive curves around her beautiful body. And on her face was an expression of alarm. It sent a shock of pain to his heart and opened a wound of gushing anger toward the dark lord for taking this from him.
"I have been Summoned," he told her, though it was apparent she had surmised as much. "I have to go. A Summons on Halloween cannot be a good sign. I am certain the dark lord does not wish to discuss strategy with us tonight. It would be better for you to wait in your dormitory and I will advise you of my return."
But the stubborn girl shook her head and slipped off the bed to stand before him. "I will wait here," she told him, reaching up and cupping his face in her hands. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her slowly and show her the depth of his affection in his large, empty bed. But his duty was to Albus and the dark lord. That comes first, he reminded himself. "Be careful," she told him, reaching up on tiptoes to press her lips to his. He savored the feel of her a moment longer, then slipped through the door that led to the cave and headed off to meet the dark lord once again.
…~*~*J*~*~…
:}
Uh oh! What do you think of that? :P