Alone in her office, Ophelia began to unpack her belongings with what would appear to an observer to be an agonizing, meticulous slowness. Humming softly to herself, the half-veela pulled paintings, wind chimes, sun catchers, incense burners, and numerous wall hangings from a small, enchanted tote bag. As she draped a deep blue tie dyed cloth that doubled as a sarong over the summer, over the Victorian sofa Hogwarts had provided for her, there was a severe knock at the door.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she strode across the room and opened the door to see the tall, dark figure of one of her fellow professors, "Snape. What brings you here?"

Snape coughed and looked over his shoulder. Ophelia laughed sarcastically, "What? Don't want to be seen acting social?"

"That is not it at all, I assure you," Snape replied darkly, lowering his eyes to the floor, seemingly impressed with the cracked stone.

Rose, ignoring his statement, held the door open wide for him, "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

When he had brushed past her with a small grunt of displeasure at having his defense ignored, Ophelia shut the door behind him and turned to look upon the intruder into her small haven. Snape was sitting awkwardly on the couch, picking at the blue cloth, trying to look entirely disinterested in Ophelia and her half completed decorating job. After staring at the dark haired man for a few minutes she commented, "You never answered my question."

"Question?" he growled, keeping his defensive, self-assured poise, sounding as much like the borderline cruel man that his students were used to as ever.

"Snape. What are you doing here?"

"I wished to speak to you about your class this morning. Is resisting a veela really appropriate material for a defense against the dark arts class?" he demanded, his fingers still picking at the material he was seated upon, his eyes locked with Professor Rose's for a few brief moments.

Rose shook her head "It was necessary to make the class, and life around here in general, run smoothly and you know it," noting that Snape was still making faces as though she had caused his favorite students to be bitten by vampires, Ophelia took a step towards him, "If you object that much to my teaching material you can take it up with Dumbledore. I am sure he would have some wonderful suggestions for me. I do not need you telling me what I should and should not teach."

"No! It's not that." Snape argued, suddenly seeming extremely out of character.

"Then what is it? You needed an excuse to come here? Honestly. You are too powerful a wizard for that. No. I know you want this job. I told you in the hall before that I do not require your help. I still do not. I can run my class and I can run it well. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I still have some unpacking to do," Ophelia nodded curtly to Professor Snape, opening the door for him to leave.

Snape stood, his robes billowing around him, "If you object to my company so-"

"Yes. I do." Ophelia cut him off before he could continue with his self-righteous speech, "Now leave. Please."

"If that is what you truly wish. Forgive me for my intrusion," Snape shot back. Turning his nose up at Ophelia, Snape swept past her and out of the room, into the halls of Hogwarts, heading back to the dungeons where he and the rest of the Slytherins resided.

When she was sure he was gone, Professor Rose leaned against the wall and slid slowly into a sitting position. *What was that all about?*

As Snape was making his way back to the dungeons, the thought of Ophelia rejecting his company and advice bothering him a lot more than it ought to have, he glanced into the Great Hall to see Hermione dropping her name in the Goblet of Fire.

"Miss Granger!" he called, "Curfew is in mere minutes. It wouldn't look good for Gryffindor to lose points because of Hogwarts' Head Girl being out of her room past curfew."

Hermione turned and scowled at him, "I can make it back to my room in time. I don't need you to tell me what time it is."

"Insolence," Snape warned, pulling his robes close to his body, "will get you nowhere, I assure you."

With a small "hmph" of resentment, Hermione stomped past Snape and out of the hall.

"I expect you to be in your room in exactly three minutes Miss Granger!" Snape demanded as Hermione sauntered off, trying not to let the professor's sour mood (only one of many) get to her.

When she was almost sure that the professor was out of earshot, Hermione muttered something scathing about Snape sticking his large nose in everyone else's business and dashed up a flight of stairs leading to her suite. As she approached the faerie painting, she was about to give the password when, looking up from her crouched position on a toadstool, the faerie giggled manically.

"Hey! You never talk to me. The boy talks to me. Nice specimen of manhood, that one."

"I couldn't care less about how he looks," Hermione growled.

The faerie didn't seem to believe her, "Oh, but he is so wonderful. The faerie queen would like him very much, she would."

"Well good for the faerie queen. I'm not a faerie queen so I suppose that my tastes are a little different," the young witch tossed her frizzy hair over her shoulder and sighed impatiently.

"Don't you like me? I'm just trying to make conversation," the faerie lamented, "And you're so lucky to be sleeping with such a handsome man!"

"I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH DRACO MALFOY!" Hermione cried, her face bright red.

The faerie grinned mischievously, "And why not?"

"Because that would be ludicrous! I don't even like him as a human being, let alone as anything else!" Hermione sputtered, outraged at what the faerie was suggesting.

"The lady doth protest much methinks," the tiny winged woman in the painting quipped, pulling a small face at the witch before her.

Hermione was about to reply when she heard a voice behind her, "Miss Granger. What did I say about being in your room at curfew?"

Hermione groaned, and turned to face Snape, "This is in no way my fault. The faerie in the painting wouldn't stop blathering on about-"

"Oh yes! Just pin your crimes on me!" the faerie piped up from behind her.

Snape scowled at the faerie, silencing her. Hermione regained her composure and continued, "And why were you following me?"

"With the ruckus you were making a blast-ended skrewt could have found you. Not only were you out after hours, but you were making a great amount of noise, Miss Granger. I am afraid I will have to deduct twenty points from Gryffindor for this," Snape intoned darkly.

"That is entirely unfair! I as about to enter the room when the faerie just began talking to me!" Hermione objected.

"Miss Granger, any further argument from you and I will be forced to deduct more points from your house. Now return to your room and I do not wish to see you until breakfast tomorrow morning," Snape snapped at her, pointing a pale finger at the painting portal.

Glaring at the faerie as darkly as she could, Hermione muttered "Serpent," and stepped into the door as the painting swung open.

Hearing the door slam behind her, Hermione stomped over to a bookcase that had been provided for her and Draco's textbooks and, retrieving her Advanced Arithmancy text, she retired to her chair for a good hour's worth of studying. As she poured over the pages, Draco waltzed into the common room via the faerie painting.

"You're out late Malfoy," she said between clenched teeth.

"Yes mother," Draco replied sarcastically, "You know I don't need you to point these things out to me Granger. I'm a big boy. Besides," he poked his head around the side of her chair and slammed his hand down on her book, grinning maliciously, "you aren't trying to help me anyway. You don't even like me as a human being. You said so yourself."

"And when did you finally figure that out?"

"Oh, a little faerie told me," Draco mused, flipping the pages of Hermione's book, purposefully losing her place for her, "You really shouldn't be saying things about other people."

"And you're one to talk?" seeing the angry look in Draco's eyes, Hermoine sighed, "Look. We have to live together. Let's try to at least avoid each other, if not leave each other alone entirely."

"You're the one who started it. I just walked in the room and-" Malfoy began to protest haughtily, but Hermione stopped him.

"Just shut up, okay? Don't you have a small animal to torture or a potion to make for Snape or something? Please just leave me alone."

For once, Draco obeyed.

****

Sorry this was so short. I had some terrible, overly sappy drivel written up and I hated it so about half of this chapter ended up getting scrapped when I read it over before typing it.