She got a few looks as she walked down the hallway. All seven of them did anymore. Especially Harry, of course, but word had spread feverishly and exaggeratedly across the school. There wasn't a student who didn't know about their little escapade, or the standoff at the Ministry. Details were pulled out of thin air and facts were twisted. Even when Remington had slipped into the second floor girls' lavatory to get some quietude and a couple seconds to herself without being late to Divination the first day she'd gone back to her classes, Myrtle had asked her whether it was true that there was a dragon in the Department of Mysteries that almost killed Ron.

Of course, it didn't help that she was a Gryffindor wandering about the Dungeons during a free period.

She'd long since stopped fearing Snape, or rather, feeling uncomfortable around him. It'd been a long year, and having classes with him twice a week, it curbed any aversion she normally felt. Not to mention that she'd had to come to him regularly about the sleep draught, and occasionally for some business or another involving her mother.

She pulled open the door to his office as soon as he'd answered her knock at the door, closing it behind her as quietly as she could and walking over to settle into a chair near his desk. She wasn't sure where he managed to get all of the papers that he was perpetually going over, but she wasn't about to ask.

For once, he turned from his work right away to settle his hands across each other on his desktop, looking at her with his usual mask of disdain and indifference. Surprised, but feeling slightly favored, she stated, "I've got a proposition for you."

"I'm just dying," He drawled, "To hear what must be your brilliant plan."

She glared at him for a moment for sounding so condescending. "A friend of mine is having a wedding in a few weeks, and I was hoping I'd be allowed to attend." She said, looking down her nose at a leg of Snape's desk. "And possibly stay for a while to visit with my friends."

"In America, I'm sure." He remarked.

"Naturally." She said, "I'd stay with Natalie."

"You realize what your mother will think of this idea?" He inquired, eyebrows arched.

"It's a wonder I came to talk to you first, isn't it?" She commented, arching an eyebrow pointedly. "Just mention it to her, if nothing else. I can always argue until I get my way. Or severely piss her off."

"Language, Remington." He interrupted sharply.

"What? She's very easy to pi- tick off." Rem shrugged. When he just looked at her sternly, she plopped her hands onto her chair dramatically. "Well, if that's-"

"I've got my own recommendation for you, Miss Alvers." Snape said as she had started to lift herself out of the chair. She immediately relaxed back into her seat, quite attentive. "I'd suggest you don't attach yourself too much to Mister Malfoy."

Slightly shocked, she stared at him for a moment, "And why not?" She asked, inquisitive and unbelieving. "He's pretty much your favorite student, why would you object to-"

"You're not in any position to question me, Remington." He cut across her.

"But I deserve to know why." She argued. "If I'm going to obey an order, I'm going to know why I'm doing such."

"Your reason for obeying would quite simply be that I'm your guardian and your superior." He told her. "I want you keeping a healthy distance from the Malfoy boy."

"And if I don't want to?" She demanded, standing up.

"And if I don't want to suggest you be allowed to attend the wedding?" He prompted.

She exhaled irritably through her nose and spun around, exiting the room and closing the door behind her with more force than was called for.