Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix
Sorry for taking so long, real life caught up with me! Even though I managed to write two short stories answering the 2 til 6 Challenge on the WIKTT website... They are called What Dreams Tell and An Accurate Prediction.
Another thing: I talked about Viktor Krum in the previous chapter, I wasn't going to let him disappear :) You will notice that I make him speak a perfect English (well, as perfect as I can write it), not the one J.K. Rowling makes him speak - or the one she uses for the people from Beauxbatons. The reason for that is that I find it first of all, difficult to read for something who's not English born and secondly, it's perfectly humiliating for a native when reading it in the text. There, I had to get it out of my system. My two cents on the subject.
Thank you for all the reviews!
Tracey: yes, I like the image of a sleep-tousled Severus too :)
Jade: the answer to your question is coming soon!
Otherside: more unicorns next chapter! :)
Taya: thank you for reviewing, you are the only one to have reviewed all my stories!
Severus knew it was time for the second part of his plan to start. He had noticed some gazes on her – especially coming from Slytherin – and he didn't trust his students with Hermione's welfare. He made a point to come to lunch that day and would have had a hard time to say what was on his plate, since his eyes rested on Hermione during the whole meal.
He could see she was shifting restlessly, playing more with her food than eating it. When she looked up, he knew she was going to leave the table. Swiftly, he stood up and walked toward the Gryffindor table. Countless eyes followed him with curiosity, first years already trembling for the poor student who was the subject of his wrath.
He stopped beside Hermione and couldn't miss the brief glint of relief in her eyes as she looked up at him. He presented her his arm and she pressed her fingers on his wrist when leaving her seat. They left the Great Hall side by side, not touching, yet there was something about him that seemed to claim ownership. He saw her pursing her lips when the whispers began behind them.
He took care on being on her way when she was changing class or going to the library. He accompanied her out of the Great Hall after each meal, always silent, his movements the same day after day. He had met Albus's eyes once and seen the approval in them. It was time to let everybody know that Hermione was under his protection.
One week after and the whispers hadn't died; in fact, rumours had become wild. He heard some of them and gritted his teeth, wondering how Hermione was taking them – if she knew of them. It seemed nothing could reach her; she was curiously detached of everything, accepting his constant attention resignedly, though she didn't look as if she resented it. Sometimes he even had the impression she was relieved of having someone come to her willingly.
He didn't see her with her fellow Gryffindors in Potions anymore, since Harry, Ron and Neville had dropped the subject as soon as they had been allowed to, though how Harry could hope becoming an Auror without taking Potions was a mystery to him. Maybe he was asking Hermione to tutor him privately. The thought made him grit his teeth. Hermione, naturally, had kept Potions – along with every other subject she could cram into her busy schedule – and without the need of keeping an eye on Neville, she could now fully devote herself to her subject, which, incidentally, had brought her even higher grades.
Thinking of it, he hadn't seen Hermione with Harry and Ron for quite a long time now. Was he losing his touch and did he let things pass him without noticing? Yet, he was sure that she was quite glad of his continued presence near her. He could see her looking up at him when he was roaming in the corridors on her way to class. That she was happy to see her hated Potions Master didn't sound good to him. Especially if Draco was around casting spells on the seventh year girls, as Lucius more or less told him.
He was in the library, keeping an eye on her as she was studying furiously, alone in a forlorn corner. He didn't see a single word of the book open in front of him. His eyes were on her while his mind wandered back to the potion he was currently working on. Having to watch over Hermione gave him less time to do his own research, but he hardly could refuse a favour to Albus. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of asking her to work with him – it would solve the problem quite nicely – but then, her behaviour recently was odd and she probably couldn't be relied on for delicate work.
At dinner that evening, he made a point to arrive early at the Head Table and frowned when looking at the Gryffindor table. The students were coming, Hermione among them. It was surprising how lonely she could appear even when lost among the others. Something was definitely wrong. She sat at the end of the table, Neville by her side. Even the young man was wary around her and he wasn't seating as close to her as he used to. She looked up only once from her plate and Severus could see the deep sadness in her eyes before she carefully guarded them. Severus glanced at Albus; the Headmaster had a puzzled look on his face as he was looking at the Gryffindor table too. Something that even Albus doesn't know of? This doesn't sound good. Not good at all, he thought.
He speared a tiny bit of meat on his fork and chewed it conscientiously, his eyes still on Hermione. Neville's behaviour was obviously the nicest she was expecting. Harry and Ron were pointedly not looking at her – apparently lost in a discussion about Quidditch with Dean and Seamus – the other Gryffindors were ignoring her and, well, she had been relegated at the end of the table. They didn't do that to the most hated people of the school.
Once again, he glanced at Albus. This time, the Headmaster met his eyes. He shrugged slightly, to show his ignorance of the situation, but what worried Severus was the absence of the usual twinkle in the blue eyes. Then he slightly inclined the head toward Slytherin table and Severus could see that Draco was looking at Hermione. There was a definite smugness on his face. Considering that it was Lucius Malfoy who had brought him the news of the Dark Lord being interested in Hermione, the worse was to fear.
He caught sight of Viktor Krum in the corner of his eyes. The young wizard had stopped eating, his fork and knife forgotten in his plate, and his dark eyes were locked on Hermione. He was frowning, obviously seeing her distress and wondering what to do about it. He looked briefly at Albus then at Severus and his eyes narrowed when he caught the Potions Master staring at him.
Viktor stood up, meal forgotten, and made his way to the door. Passing by Severus, he leaned forward and murmured:
"Are you responsible?"
The gruff voice didn't startle Severus, who had expected something of the kind after the glare.
"Meet me in the dungeons in fifteen minutes," he hissed back. "Then we will talk."
Viktor nodded and left the Great Hall.
Severus didn't even raise the head when Viktor entered his classroom.
"So, what is it all about?"
"Are you responsible?"
"Responsible for what?"
"Hermione. Is it because of you she's rejected by her fellow Gryffindors?"
Severus sighed.
"I didn't do anything to Miss Granger, Krum. Whatever happened is not my doing. And even if it was, I wouldn't want you to meddle with my business."
"Everything concerning Hermione concerns me," Viktor said quietly.
"Besotted with her, aren't you? Spare me the romanticism, I'll get sick."
Viktor's eyes narrowed.
"I've been in love with Hermione since I met her. I guess everybody knew that because of the second task at the Triwizard Tournament. Several people told me she's Muggle-born and I told them I didn't care. It's true. I don't care. Hermione is above such petty restrictions. I don't care for her House, for her birth, but I care for the person she is. When I was offered this position at Hogwarts and I told her about it, she was honest with me. She told me she liked me, but not romantically; she knew of my feelings for her and she had the courage not to give me false hopes. I gave up Quidditch without second thoughts, though she didn't want me to; she liked the idea of me coming here, but she didn't want me to sacrifice my career for it. She never cared for me because I was famous, but always for who I am. This is the woman I'm concerned about and nothing you can say – about me being a teacher and her a student – can make me change my mind."
Severus looked at him in wonder. He had heard the Dark Lord's speeches during his youth about pure-blood and Muggle-born wizards, he, as a Slytherin, had prejudices about Houses, yet never had he heard such a heartfelt declaration of love. Hermione is above such petty restrictions. He would have to think again about this annoying little know-it-all, but later, when he would be in the loneliness of his rooms.
"Very well, Krum. Since you are so concerned about Miss Granger, I will let you know that she may be in danger. Before you run to her to protect her, please hear me out. Albus already took care of the matter and assigned me as her… shall we say, protector? So, yes, I'll probably be often seen with her and maybe rumours will get wild. Nevertheless, the point is: it's me or the Dark Lord."
Viktor's face became surly again and his eyes darkened.
"Did you tell her?"
"No, Krum, I didn't and Albus didn't see fit to tell her either. So not a word from you! As you could see, she has already enough problems on her shoulders, that with being also Potter's sidekick."
Viktor remained silent for a moment, then said:
"Very well. I shall entrust her to you and won't question your actions. But mark my words: if something happens to her, I don't care if you know more hexes than I do, I'll have your head."
Severus smirked.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Slowly, Viktor grinned and left the room. Severus remained dazed for several minutes, Viktor's speech about Hermione still ringing in his ears.
Though he refused to think about it, he discovered that his mind was of a different opinion. The following day, classes were setting him on the edge and he would have sworn that the students were getting dumber with the years passing by. During the last class of the day with sixth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, he ended up exclaiming:
"Is there anyone in this school of dunderheads who is able to brew a potion correctly?"
A young Ravenclaw raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Berkley?"
"Hermione Granger, sir," she said brightly.
She immediately received glares from the other people present in the classroom, while some sniggered, looking snidely at Severus, wondering how he was going to react, since he was supposed to have an affair with her.
"Miss Berkley, may I know why you are mentioning Miss Granger?" he asked calmly.
"You asked for someone who could brew a potion, sir. Hermione knows how to."
There were murmurs around her and Megan straightened up, looking angry.
"It's true! And she's nice. She spent countless hours explaining things to me in the library!"
"You just don't mention Granger," hissed the Ravenclaw sitting next to her. "She's evil."
"Twenty points from Ravenclaw for insulting an absent student, Mr. Lewer. Miss Berkley, stay after class, I will have a word with you. Now back to your potions!"
He closed his eyes and thought about the song of the foals he had heard Hermione play last time they had been with the unicorns. The memory soothed his nerves a little but didn't prevent the building headache. Trust the girl to give him a headache even when she wasn't around. He wondered how Minerva did to support her as her Head of House. But then, Minerva probably didn't consider all her students to be dunderheads…
"Sir?" asked little Megan Berkley.
"Thirty points to Ravenclaw, Miss Berkley, for defending a student, even belonging to another House," he said, apparently not looking up from the papers he was grading.
He was observing her and didn't miss her look of utter surprise. He wasn't known to give points to Houses except Slytherin.
"Thank you, sir," she replied, her voice filled with puzzlement.
Severus hid his smirk. He had no doubt that it would add some more fuel to the rumours and he couldn't help to find amusing that a Ravenclaw would stand for a fellow Gryffindor – who was, incidentally, the Heir of Ravenclaw…
He was stalking through the corridors, hoping to catch a careless Gryffindor when he saw something that made him smirk. Harry and Ron had just entered an empty classroom. Silently he followed them and glanced inside. Hermione had been sitting there on her own, studying, and, by the noise he had just heard, her chair had fallen on the ground at the unexpected entrance of the two Gryffindors. Ron picked up a parchment on top of her stack of books and read it aloud. Her face pale, she didn't move to stop him.
"'Dear Hermione, please meet me in the classroom at 8. Viktor.' So one lover isn't good enough for you! You're betrothed, yet you need someone else on the side!"
"Is it how you get your good grades?" Harry added. "Dumbledore was concerned about you too. Did you seduce all the male staff, Herm-own-ninny?"
"Don't say anything against Professor Krum," she said between clenched teeth. "Your quarrel is with me, not him."
"'Professor Krum'! Is it how you call him when you're alone with him in his rooms?"
She blushed a deep red, but remained silent.
"Frankly, Hermione, how could you do this to Ginny?" Ron exploded.
She looked surprised for a moment then a feral expression passed on her face.
"Oh, Ginny! Little Ginny, who can't get over him. And it's so sick that her own brother just accepts it. If you were really concerned about her, Ronald Weasley, you would find a way to make her forget, with other means than to let her date the whole fifth to seventh year male student body! Did you lure Malfoy to her already? I'm sure he would have interesting tales to tell her!"
"How dare you insult my sister!"
"How dared you insult me?" she replied simply. "Did you even give me a chance to explain?"
Seeing Ron move threateningly toward Hermione, Severus decided it was time for him to intervene. Except that he heard steps that he would have recognised anywhere and he sank deeper in the shadows. Viktor appeared in the corridor and entered in the room without hesitation.
"Gentlemen, I think this sweet interlude must come at end," he said, his eyes hard on Harry and Ron.
"Yes, Professor Krum," said Harry, glancing at Hermione, whose fingers were clutching the desk until her knuckles were white.
He grabbed Ron's elbow and dragged him outside the classroom. Viktor came by Hermione's side and gently took her hand in his.
"Are you alright, Hermione?"
"Yes, Professor, thank you."
"It hurts me to hear you call me Professor Krum. I told you to call me Viktor when we are alone."
Outside the class, Severus scowled.
"Is Snape courteous to you?"
Severus cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes," she replied testily.
He grinned from behind; obviously she didn't appreciate his concern.
"Karkaroff told me about him… Snape. You can trust him."
"I know," she said quietly. "He's supposed to watch over me. I'm sure he hates me even more than before now, because of that."
"Do you care?" Viktor asked, coming nearer, his hand on her shoulder.
"I don't think her opinion matters just right now," Severus said, entering the room before Hermione felt even more embarrassed.
Immediately, Viktor's hand dropped from her shoulder and he squirmed under the black gaze.
"Miss Granger, it is time for you to go back to your dormitory. You don't want to be caught outside after curfew."
"Yes, Professor Snape. Good night, Professors."
"Good night, Hermione."
The two men looked at her leaving the classroom, her shoulders tense.
Viktor turned to Severus.
"Couldn't you be nice to her and say good night?"
Severus replied by a cold glare.
"Why do you hate her so?"
"She's an insufferable know-it-all," Severus said categorically.
An unexpected smile graced Viktor's features.
"She is, isn't she?" he admitted. "So eager, so enthusiast… But her thirst of knowledge has another point, aside her being naturally curious. She had to prove she belongs here."
"Meaning?"
"She's Muggle-born. She wants to prove that you don't need to be a pure-blood wizard to be good, so she has to be better than all of them."
Severus was ready to be offended – after all, he was a pure-blood wizard – but then he remembered something.
"You are a pure-blood. Durmstrang doesn't accept other than pure-blood students."
"I am. Some say I'm the Heir of Hufflepuff because there is no reason why Karkaroff would have me as a favourite student without being in Slytherin."
Severus raised his eyebrow and Viktor grinned.
"Rubbish, of course. Anyway, back to Hermione. She told me how her friendship with Harry and Ron began. I think her words were more or less 'Well, we had to fight a troll'. Then there was her third year, when her cat kept trying to eat Ron's rat – who was in fact Peter Pettigrew. Ron was mad at Hermione for most of the time. And Harry at her because of the Firebolt incident, the one sent by Sirius Black. And in fourth year, Ron was jealous of Harry entering the tournament."
"And of you because you were with Miss Granger," Severus said dryly. "What's the point of it?"
"Their friendship doesn't resist some tests. I think this is one again."
"Krum, you're blind. They are her friends because she gets them out of every bad position they manage to find themselves in and she stays with them so she's not alone."
Viktor grinned.
"I know. I just wanted to make sure you knew too. You're a lot like her, you know, Professor Snape?"
Severus bristled and Viktor added:
"You manage to make me talk the way she does."
The Potions Master looked at him for a long time before throwing a parchment to him.
"Look at this."
Viktor unrolled it and stared at the drawing.
"It's her. She's glorious. I… I didn't know you cared…" he breathed, looking up at Severus.
"I don't. It's not your precious Miss Granger. It's Rowena Ravenclaw."
"It's Hermione at the Yule Ball in her blue robes–"
"In her Ravenclaw blue robes. Rowena loved blue. Miss Granger is Rowena's heir."
Viktor stood up quite brutally.
"Professor Snape, I don't need to know this to know Hermione is worth everything. The question is: do you need it?"
He rolled the parchment and set it on the desk.
"Think of it," he hissed before leaving.